08: Quito Protest and Monsé
Back in 1984, my high school junior class took a five-week trip to Ecuador and the Galápagos Islands. Why? What do
you mean not every school takes a trip overseas during mud season in Northwest Colorado?
Unlike our senior trip to Greece the following year, planning for the trip to Ecuador was the usual “here is your clothing list, what you need for the hike in the Andes list, and what else you might want to take list.”
We prepared for our foreign trip by trying out some Ecuadorian food and studying the culture for MAYBE a week at most. At some point, we were lectured about what to do and what we should never do in Ecuador. They stressed that we were Americans and must follow their laws. DUHHHHH!!! After having us watch Midnight Express a couple of times, they couldn’t stress it enough, DO NOT DO DRUGS in Ecuador, NOR attempt to bring any drugs back to the States. Stay away from any type of political activity and if you see political activity just walk in the other direction.
Well, for me, since I had not even been curious about pot, coke, etc at that time in my life (I was still freaked out from those after-school specials that brainwashed an entire generation into believing that vile drug dealers lurked around every corner, waiting to stick a needle in you, or that just one puff from a joint would cause you to think you could jump off a building and fly. I’m no angel, I drank, enjoying high school life with my friends Captain Morgan or Bacardi and Coke (the beverage not the white powder).
Of course as soon as I typed that I think back to when Pato Banton would perform at the Beacham Theater in Orlando. He has a song called “Don’t Sniff coke (only smoke)”, and every time he performed it, anywhere in the world, the crowd would go wild. He was always a fun show to photograph.
So here we are staying in a hotel in Quito enjoying ourselves while learning about Ecuadorian culture. To make our parents happy we went to “class a couple of hours a day, or so we were told to say). One of the highlights of this hotel’s location is that we were close enough to the airport that we had a clear view of the runway and watched the planes avoid the high mountains that surrounded the city. We were in this hotel for the first couple of weeks. We used this as our home base as we only stayed in three places in Ecuador.
While staying there we got to meet the founder and former namesake of the school (a few years ago the Lowell Whiteman School changed the name to the so boring yet readily identifiable location Steamboat Mountain School (SMS for short). The popular rumor among alumni who attended school during the name change is that a REALLY wealthy family decided their child simply could not have a racist-sounding name on their diploma and donated enough money to have the name changed. The administration has NEVER flat-out denied this allegation.
I am so sorry, I digress again, ok, so Lowell Whiteman came to speak with us about what it was like to live in Ecuador as an American, which was pretty interesting back then because Ecuador was still a very peaceful country.
Oh my God Mark, what does all this have to do with the title Union Protesters!!! To paraphrase what Herman Cain would tell long-winded callers, “Land the plane already dude!”
OK, OK, I will land this plane, eventually. HA!
But one day I don’t remember if I was heading to the InterContinental hotel to go to the casino or not yeah, yeah, I know this is a high school trip and yes, I was a high school junior at this point. I was of legal drinking, and well, the InterContinental (at least back then) had a very well-deserved global reputation for their heavy pours in the bar. So I’m gonna go there (besides gambling, drinking rum and Cokes, and flirting, hoping that some older female tourist would want to have a drink or flirt with a guy my age) but I know I had my Olympus cameras with me.
At some point, as I was meandering from our hotel to the casino (I was too cheap to take a cab), I heard rumbles of what sounded like people cheering. I could also hear firecrackers going off in the distance. My inner voice tried hard to remind me of Mr. Krautkramer’s lecture about NOT going towards crowds. Remember that nugget of advice.
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