Quito & the Mountains | Ecuador Part III
My final stop in Ecuador landed me in its capital, Quito. Subtract the Spanish influence, and you think for a second you are in Switzerland. Nearly 3,000 meters above sea level, the Andean air has an Alpine feel: flowered balconies decorate the winding cobble-stoned streets that burst into open squares filled with stylish residents draped in colorful ponchos, wool blazers, and the most wonderful hats. Staircase alleyways provide shortcuts up and around the hills upon which the city is built on; looking out on the skyline, the roofs roll with the topography. Turn around at any point and in most directions you can find a mountainous peak rising above.
The looming presence of Catholicism appears on every corner, each denomination seemingly outdoing their biblical brothers. The humble Jesuits adorned every millimeter of church in gold; the Dominicans seemed to favor scale over precious metals. All are impressive, as are the legends that aid in the lore. Diego told me about the construction of the San Francisco Church: with only a day before his deadline, the architect sold his soul to the Devil in order to finish the building by sunrise. Thousands of demons worked tirelessly through the night, and as dawn broke, it seemed to be complete. But when the Devil came to collect, the architect held onto the final brick and never placed it. In a way, the church is a work in progress, just like one’s faith in God.
On a hill south of the city, the Virgin of Quito stands tall, looking at the rising metropolis to the North. With her back turned to the poorer communas, locals believe it is her gaze that grants the capital city the economic prosperity she enjoys. Like in many places though, corruption may have more to do with it. A ride to the airport takes one through a magnificent highway that cuts and careens through the mountain ranges; it also happens to be the most expensive project per kilometer in the world; I became more skeptical about Guayaquil gondola after the ride.
Not only its political capital, Quito also is the country’s center for culture. If one stumbles on a protruding cobblestone, they will likely fall into one of the many galleries and artesian shops tucked along the streets. Music fills the streets and many bands come here on LatAm tours. The food is excellent (Purisma was a favorite), and young chefs are taking creative chances on traditional recipes to add their own flavor to the city. Before heading to the airport, I made a pitstop to the house of Oswaldo Guayasamín. Considered one of South America’s most important artists, he was a cubist who travelled the continent painting portraits and portrayals of daily life. Next to his home studio, is his masterpiece, La Capilla de Hombre (The Cathedral of Man). Part homage to the past, part message for a better future, the structure made me feel small and the artwork of suffering made me feel helpless. I walked out onto the terrace which offered an unobstructed view of Quito, and reflected for a moment. In the distance, I saw the Virgin looking over her city and in a silent prayer, I hoped that she starts taking care of all the people in Ecuador, even the ones she can’t see.
