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By Jeff O'Brien on
10/29/2009 8:49 AM
Canoa...
After an impromptu media event yesterday, we had a 7 hour trek through the countryside to Canoa. It was good to get exposed to a variety of land and social scape on the way. The evening brought on nice light and a lot of activity in the shanty towns we passed. Most were out on their porches spending time as a family.
I was contemplating what life might be like for these people as we drove by. It's all relative. These villages have no amenities. Not even a market where canned goods or "groceries" can be bought. Probably eggs and meat from chickens and cows, vegetables from the land, corn used to grind up into paste and bread products. Potatoes likely. There are NO stores. Maybe a shack that repairs tires and a "convenient" store the size of a large phone booth, maybe.
I imagined the smiths in a bamboo shack having envy for the Jones family on the hill with new drapes. No one has windows. The smiths are also probably jealous of the Jones family having two light bulbs in their domicile.
Life as we know it must seem like literally another world. McDonalds might look like a space station. Las Vegas an exotic galaxy crawling with aliens in strange garb.
I was listening to some tunes staring at the road ahead, when two cows came tumbling out of a flatbed truck. The cows skidded and rolled down the street for probably over a hundred feet. Amazingly, they both stood up when they stopped. The road leading up to them was peppered with cow skin, blood, and some excrement from the cows who'd been scared shitless. Abrasions down to the vertebra were visible on their backs as we passed. The truck they fell out of kept on driving, and was stopped by another car a 1/2 mile up the hill.
The road was under construction all the way to Canoa and we rumbled along weaving around bucket sized potholes hitting a few. I feel fortunate to make it this far away from home. A place I would not get the opportunity to come to otherwise.
Our resort here is probably the nicest place on the beach. $22 per person per night and $5 dinners. It boasts hot water, internet, air conditioning for the first floor rooms, nice little pool, restaurant, bar, etc. Close to town. This town will get more commercialized as the years go on, (a lot has happened in a year) but now it's still rustic and idyllic.
In 90 minutes we head up the hill for a fly.
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By Jeff O'Brien on
10/27/2009 7:59 AM
All photos by Ricker Goldsborough. He's done an amazing job with fundraising and documenting the effort. Thanks to all those who've donated their money and effort. It IS making a difference. Thank you Ricker.
Yesterday we met Father Frank, a 74 year old priest from the UK, and his staff. They came to the hotel, we chatted for a few minutes, then followed him to his mission compound.
FATHER FRANK'S BLOG
scroll down and hit the "entradas antiguas" link at the bottom to see more pages of photos on Father Frank's blog.
JAMIE'S BLOG
JAMIE'S PHOTOS
The mission compound has a daycare that houses 65 children from age 0 to 4.5. The cost for the daycare is $4 per MONTH Most of the babies come from single mother homes.
A little girl in daycare.
Shapiro in the daycare. The kids were so friendly and mauled us.
The school has an enrollment of 280. Kids up to 12 years old. Tuition for the school is $14 per MONTH. Uniforms and books are a bit extra.
The children instantly get gregarious around cameras and pose for photos. Shapiro playing.
A teacher's salary is $210 per MONTH We met the english teacher Suzy and took her to her home in the slum. She lives with her two boys and husband in a shack. Her husband works in a metal refinery.
There is a clinic at the compound where they see anyone from the public. There are two exam rooms in the clinic, and a social worker's office. There's also a nice church and Father Frank's quarters in the compound.
Father Frank's quarters and office.
Father Frank receives 1000 uk pounds a month to cover his deficit in expenses. $500 a month buys enough medicine to stock the clinic.
We left our vehicle at the mission and traveled with Father Frank into the slum. We had a lookout with us and kept our senses keen. A couple of the teachers and nurses joined us so we wouldn't attract too much attention.
At our first stop, the energy felt strange. Father Frank and the lookout picked up on this as soon as the crowd started to gather. Dustin saw a boy walk up with a gun in his hand, and place it in a tree before shaking Father Frank's hand.
The smaller boy in yellow just passed the older boy the gun before he and another teenager came over to us.
The lookout gave a sign, and Father Frank told us to stay in the truck bed. He casually told his staff to get in the truck and we left the area.
The gun in the tree.
The slum used to be a swamp. People built shacks over the water on stilts and traveled on scaffold between huts. Sometimes a person drowned when they fell off the scaffold because most can't swim. Slowly fill has been brought in. Most huts have one tiny electrical wire poached from the main wire likely to fuel a TV. There's also usually one garden hose into the hut for water.
This is a nice shack.
Sewage system's don't exist in the slums and people either defecate through a hole in the floor onto the ground or into the water. The watery areas are covered in garbage and scum.
Our second stop started to attract the wrong attention, and Father Frank's nurse looked at me and muttered, "Vaminos" (spanish for let's go) - We quietly and quickly got back in the truck and moved on.
Our third and fourth stops were safer, but a drug addict approached Father Frank at the last stop demanding money. We visited a family with five children the mission had been helping. The father was building kitchen cabinet drawers outside. The children were getting their strength back, but still looked lethargic and emaciated. I went inside the house to see the living conditions. (unfortunately, I did not take photos)
My expression during our last stop at the house with five children. You can't imagine the living conditions. The filth. They sleep in the dirt. Their kitchen is a gravel room with dishes and food in the dirt. The children are beautiful. They're shoeless and haven't bathed, but their eyes are bright and hair beautiful.
One of the five children outside his shack.
Our mood visibly changed after our time in the slum.
We returned to our vehicle and traveled back into the city to the discount pharmacy, which was closed. We went to a quick lunch in the hope the pharmacy would open, but it didn't. We'd pledged $500 to Father Frank, and after talking with him, it's our intention to try and provide him with $500 of assistance per month for as long as we can. He mentioned that so many times people show up wanting to help, they make big noises, then disappear. I'd rather give him a smaller amount each month to help them subsist. He really does great work with a very small budget.
A woman in the slum with breast cancer and her son with cerebral palsy. This photo is from Father Frank's blog. They travel into the slum and do research to find out who's most in need. The sickest people do not seek out medical help. They just rot away. Father Frank and his crew have to go find those most in need.
We decided to give him $1000 for medicines now and in a month. We hope that within 30 days we can arrange a wire transfer procedure and perhaps work on non-profit status to receive donations from external sponsors.
I know that our little effort will not raise people out of poverty, but so little does so much down here. Just providing food or medicine to improve someone's life temporarily might brighten the collective just a bit. The other important sentiment to take away is how lucky "we" are. Living in the US provides us with many times the opportunity than the people have here.
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By Jeff Shapiro on
10/26/2009 2:09 PM
Well, I have been having some issues getting on line for some reason, coupled with getting settled and have yet to get a blog post together so sorry for the consolidation.
I arrived at the airport (thanks Steve) with plenty of time and it turned out to be a good thing because it turned into a bit of an effort to convince the folks at the counter that the glider would indeed fit on the plane. It's so funny, the process of traveling with a glider is so much less about the rules and regulations and much more about your people skills. I was lucky to be at a counter by myself talking to a nice woman while (unknown to me) Craig, Alex and John were 5 counters down having difficulties, struggling with what looked like an unhappy woman. Only when a handler came down and told the woman helping me that they are "turning down" gliders and mine would also not be going on the plane did I realize there might be an issue. In the end, it turned out to be no issue at all and I paid my fees and took my wing to the TSA door. Turns out that in the confusion, we basically all paid different amounts. Crazy.
We had a nice flight and arrived into a press filled airport, doing interviews for the local news and trying to get organized after checking through customs. It's amazing how well the local pilots are taking care of us. They picked up 10 pilots and 11 gliders, drove us to our hotel (that they had arranged for us) and have made the transition into their beautiful country as easy as it could be.
A couple of great flying days have followed. Jeff and others are doing a great job documenting so hopefully I am not being too redundant with my photos. Instead I wanted to write a little about the flying here.
We have had the option to either foot launch from a very well manicured launch site or to aero tow from the LZ behind a trike owned by Raul. The conditions are overcast and it would seem that the flying would not be that good but it is just the opposite. The air is so nice and the thermals are smooth. We climb over a variety of terrain ranging from equatorial forest to shrimp fields and rivers to full on city.
Yesterday, we all drove up the hill to launch from the mountain. Raul launched first and found a climb over the LZ. Jeff and I decided to launch next. My plan was to run off the hill 5 seconds after OB so that we could work together to find lift. After he got into the air, I walked up and said clear. One of the local Para pilots must not have heard me because 3 steps into it, I heard a loud bonk and felt the glider yaw a bit. The Montana pilot in me kicked in and I powered through it and got off the hill, no worries. I actually felt bad that I kinda clobbered the guy in the back of the head;-) We had launched into light conditions and right away, it seemed like the lift was lee side. We both scratched hard but ended up in the LZ in less than 20 minutes which stung a bit so when we could get a tow back into the air about 40 mins later, we were both keen.
Our second flight ended up being one to remember, we got up above launch and started to get to know the area a little better. We flew together locally and only ventured up the range short distances, taking turns strafing launch and making skimming tree top runs occasionally ringing up tip to tip. One particular climb, Jeff and I were turning tight and he later told me that he was staring at my top surface the whole time which ended up making hem feel a tad air sick. I just kept him in a spot where I couldn't see him through my sail, spinning round and round knowing that he was less than 100 feet away on the other side of my wing. We climbed like that for so long, I started to doubt whether he was still there or not and would look around a little only to see a sliver of him pop out from my leading edge quite close. It was really fun and we ended up climbing in "glass off" like conditions almost to cloud base where we hooked up with a gaggle of black vultures. I took a couple of photos of Jeff flying with the gang of birds but the images turned out blurry. It's really too bad because it was one of those moments that would have been magic to capture. There was 6-8 vultures and Jeff's bright wing all turning in a tight circle and it really encompassed what I feel when I'm climbing in a hang glider. I got to within 10 feet of vultures several times and was satiated by the end of the flight which turned out to be almost 2.5 hours. We had a nice dinner with the group and crashed out after a couple of "big days". Two more days here in Guayaquil and then off to the coast for the ridge race.
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By Jeff O'Brien on
10/22/2009 9:02 AM
Owen Morse films Dustin at Torrey. Notice Dustin in ground effect over the beach a few times, the popping back up in the lift band. Editing by John Wright I believe. Good stuff boys.
VIDEO HERE
The Joker and the Thief - Hang Gliding at Torrey Pines from knumbknuts on Vimeo.
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