 ECUADOR JOURNALS
Photography by Steve Wallstrom
Journals by James Mallory
Quito - Good times, bad times
Four months of stifling heat have given way to the crisp, alpine climate of Quito. Climbing skyward above Panama City aboard the unfamiliar comforts of airborne travel, I reflect upon the past 7 countries. The chill of air conditioning pouring through the plane only accentuated the animosity towards the steamy climate below. Emotions of melancholy never crossed my mind, I was thrilled to rid myself of such inhumane temperatures. Ecuador is next and if the weather reports I've checked daily ring true, an average high of 70 degrees awaits us.
Blessed with a nearly perfect climate, the capital of Ecuador sits at just under 10,000 feet elevation. Of course, as the name suggests the country known for high volcanoes and the Galapagos islands is cleanly dissected by the equator. Which is odd because one tends to imagine Central America sitting squarely between the north and south pole. But the southern continent is quite long, 6,500 miles from Quito to Tierra Del Fuego. Realizing our proclivities towards zig-zagging it seems our pace needs to quicken a bit.
Though thoroughly enjoying our new surroundings, two rather depressing occurrences marred an otherwise triumphant arrival into the later half of our trip. Four months ago we mailed a package from San Diego to Quito containing all our cold weather riding gear. Evidently some underpaid Ecuadorian decided he could use a pair of electric fleece biking jackets and climbing pants. I can just see him tugging at the cord at the bottom of the jacket wondering what fool accidently stiched an extension cord into a perfectly good fleece. None the less, $800 worth of warmth comes and goes.
The second tragedy though is more painful than the first and of course, is entirely my fault. After making a call, I failed to retrieve my journal from its resting place atop the payphone. Realizing my mistake 30 minutes later was not quick enough as I frantically searched the area. What anyone would want with a rambling travel journal is beyond me, but I've learned logic has yet to present itself as an esteemed value among this region. There is still hope I suppose, my email address is written boldly across the inside cover.
Quito could easily earn the name of hostel city as literally dozens of them crowd the vibrant streets. I know 'hostelling' is the hallmark of the hip traveler, but personally I find them detestable. For one, you actually have to converse with fellow travelers, usually the last priority on our list. Also, the travelers attracted to hostels are simply cut from a very specific cloth. Bowing to my penchant for generalizations, here goes: Chain smoking is mandatory as is a complete inability to lift a toilet seat. Ownership of food is a foreign concept as the commune mentality necessitates a free for all mentality. Perhaps the former transgressions can be overlooked, but really, do you have to eat my Cheerios?
Fortunately amid these minor setbacks we discovered some great opportunities for volunteering in Ecuador. Set amid a landscape of towering volcanoes and deep jungle to the east, the country has just about everything a team could ask for. Quito, with a population of 1.5 million also leaves many possibilities for urban ministy. After a couple frustrating days of dead end phone calls and emails we finally happened upon several solid projects.
Youth World International operates a multifaceted base in Quito reaching out, as implied, to the younger generations in Ecuador. Their largest ministry, La Red, Spanish for ‘the net’, trains and equips youth workers in both English and Spanish. In Ecuador most youth leaders have very limited access to such materials and the demand is great for such resources. Options for serving also include short-term trips designed to expose participants to the world of international missionary work.
For those with a strong stomach and open heart, Youth World Int’l works with the families living around the city dump. This has grown from an annual Christmas party to include serving street kids and children of prisoners. For those who perhaps come up a bit short in the Spanish department, one can work with the large numbers of English speaking students residing in Quito.
 
El Refugio, a retreat center in the rolling mountains north of the capital utilizes outdoor activities and Ecuador’s natural beauty as the primary ministry tool. Whether sliding down the rappelling course or a simple hike up the mountain, enjoying the incredible scenery so prevalent is a luxury few locals have appreciated. Everyone from street kids to pastors can come to enjoy God’s creation on the 200 acre property.
The location also stands as the most promising yet for returning with a short team team next year. One of our primary goals of the trip is to research projects for leading groups on volunteer trips in the future. El Refugio, with the outdoor emphasis, would be a logical fit for the rather active group of friends and churches that support us.
Walking the forested grounds of The Refuge, the director explained his desire to build a climbing wall for the local Ecuadorians. You really couldn't ask for a better project to entice a group of outdoor enthusiast to world missions. The director, an avid climber himself, also suggested taking a team up Chimborazo (20,700ft) at the end of a two week mission trip.
And perhaps best of all, El Refugio sits at 9,000ft, so you can put in a hard day of work under a perfect 70 degrees. More on this project later.
   
South East to Shell
Once again our technique of sending out random emails to prospective missionaries pulled through in Ecuador. Throughout our travels we've tried to connect up with MAF, Missionary Aviation Fellowship, and in Ecuador we happened upon one of their largest operations.
photo by SWLocated in the former oil town of Shell, MAF flies 4 planes into the thick green jungle of Eastern Ecuador. 50 percent of the flights serve as medical assistance, the other half is devoted to missionary transport.
Fortunately, an extra seat in the plane was available and we sprung at the opportunity. Cruising over the vast green ocean of jungle was an exhilarating and humbling experience. Feeling a bit like an ant stuck in an unending shag carpet the sense of personal insignificance is palpable. The jungles of South America rarely yield to road construction and thus small airplanes serve as the primary form of transportation.
Buzzing over the canopy of trees, numerous coffee colored airstrips passed below, the lone features providing a color other than green. Indigenous Indians comprise the vast majority reached by the airstrips, many of whom Spanish is unknown or secondary to their native tongue. None the less, payment for such assistance is easily understood, as many times animals replace dollars as the currency. Unloading the plane we pulled out two roosters wrapped in leaves, looking a bit perturbed fulfilling their role as a monetary unit.
 
 
Jungle flights come complete with everything one would expect with no shortage of snake bites, infections, malaria, etc. The week prior to our arrival a women had just succumbed to a fatal bite. I can't imagine the mortality rate among the people before MAF began working in the area 50 years ago.
 Shell, Ecuador is also famous for the site where the late pilot Nate Saint along with four other missionaries were killed by the Huaorani Indians in 1956. The story has resulted in several books and in a full-fledged movie is slated for next year. Hanging on the wall inside the MAF base lies a portion of the planes tail, where one can still make out the machete slices gouging into the soft aluminum.
Jungle Pilot is the heartbreaking story of the missionaries who first made contact with the tribe. Seeking first to show their peaceful intentions, each week gifts were lowered from the plane to the wary Indians. The goodwill was reciprocated as the Huaorani placed a parrot and headdresses in the basket for the missionaries.
After several landings in Aucu territory to bring in supplies, they attempted to make contact with the violent tribe. Several days of waiting ensued and finally two women and a man emerged from the forest. A brief plane ride was given to the man and they left without incident. Two days later contact was expected with the tribe again and they radioed their base with their plans.
When they failed to radio again in the afternoon, a search operation was organized. The damaged plane and martyred missionaries were eventually found, both showing attack by machetes and wooden lances. Fearing another attack the burial services lasted only 3 minutes. The events occurring in the following years are perhaps an even more powerful testament to the faith of those working with the Indians.
Shortly after the attack, 20 pilots applied to replace the vacancy left by Nate Saint's death, and more than 1000 volunteers signed up for international work in direct response to the story of martyrdom. And incredibly, two relatives of the murdered men returned to work with the Indians. In the following years they provided medical care and worked to develop a written language. Nine years later, exhibiting a level of forgiveness nearly incomprehensible, two of Nate Saint's children were baptized by the same warriors who had killed their father.
Contemplating the bold actions of such missionaries it is natural to wonder why people would give so much to reach a group of jungle indians. Why not just let them live in peace without our outside influence? This story illustrates quite emphatically that these people live in a world where peace is virtually unknown.
Before the arrival of the missionaries 60 percent of adult deaths were attributed to homicide. And when told the story of Jesus' crucifixion, their hero of the story was Judas. photo by SWBetrayal for them was more than just an aspect of their culture, it was a foundation. But through the work of missionaries, within 2 years the murder rate plummeted 90%.
South to Guayaquil
 
So you want to be a rock star.
With trepidation we parked our motorcycles outside the orphanage and waded through the sea of children accumulating around our bikes. Picturing cramped rooms full of lonely children our expectations drifted towards the somber. But all reluctance quickly melted away when each of the 24 girls introduced their name, age and favorite activity.
Full of smiles and hope, nearly all excitedly listed dancing as their first choice. Which was quickly followed by requests for us to sing a song. Hmmm, you first I insisted in Spanish, which was quickly followed by a rousing rendition of "we are the children".
Like anyone, I've always wanted to know what it felt like to be a rock star. Receiving a tour of the orphanage I had to wonder no more, you'd think the Backstreet Boys themselves had showed up for a visit. Requests for our autographs were made, every girl whether 6 or 18 year olds wanting our names scribbled in their diaries. Pulling out our cameras was greeted with an equally wild response.
Though we only had an afternoon to spend with the kids, the experience left a powerful effect on both of us. Prior to our visit working with orphans would have been an unlikely choice for my future volunteering plans. Realizing how profound effect a few hours can have on their lives the heart becomes much more willing. For the most part these girls have no male influence in their lives, just the abusive fathers that many came from. The foreigners studying at the local university who occasionally volunteer here provide the only balance to their world.
Stumbling through broken Spanish, inquiring about their classes I also realized that finely tuned social work skills are unnecessary. You don't even have to "be good with children". These girls were so desperate for attention and role models that such efforts would be met with wide open arms. Simply walking down the street to your local Big Brothers or Sisters office is the toughest part you'll have to overcome. Once that six year old gazes up like the moon itself was hung by you, all the inspiration you need will come welling up from inside.
As expected the quickest smile came from the most heartbreaking story. Sitting down with the director we learned the young girl had lost her hearing through repeated blows from her father, and was rescued minutes before worse atrocities could take place. Amazing because whenever you glanced in her direction she always responded with a heart wrenching smile. A smile that reaffirmed once again the incredible resilience of the human spirit.
Suiting up for the continuation of our ride South, Steve and I pondered the possibility of bringin the group of girls up to the outdoor center we visited a few days before. Who could refuse the chance to take a group of orphans for a weekend of hiking, rappelling and biking. Combining such an excursion with a trip to El Refugio would be a life changing experience. More on that later.
-JM
 
 
 
 
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