Fascinated by country that captured son's heart

You never think to appreciate water when you can turn on the tap to brush your teeth, but visiting a developing country sure makes you glad to have access to that essential drinkable liquid.

It is just about impossible to describe the rush of impressions that command your attention when you first land in a country like Ecuador.

It’s hot, nobody speaks English, cars belching diesel fumes rush by, honking frequently and exterior walls everywhere are covered in brightly-coloured election propaganda.

If you escape the cities, there are endless stretches of gorgeous beaches along the coast. You can rent a cotton tent-shading beach chair for $4 a day and relax, in between beggars and vendors. Living on the beach would actually be quite possible because most food groups are sold by the entrepreneurial passersby.

My exchange-student son parked in the shade long enough to have his hair braided into corn rows for $8.

Heading inland through banana plantations and sugar cane fields, we started up into the Andes. The experience of navigating a twisty, occasionally washed-out road climbing higher and higher through the mist-draped mountains was spectacular. It looked nothing like the Rockies. We topped 4,000 feet and then drove down to the ancient city of Cuenca, which is at 2,300 feet.

Geordie’s living there in the country’s third largest city, one about the size of Halifax with even more universities.

I didn't notice much driving into the city what with car and altitude sickness dogging me, but the next morning I awoke in a picturesque courtyard inn. It’s May Day and a national holiday like our Labour Day.

We watch male workers, women in aboriginal dress and felt hats, marching through the streets along side very vocal Marxist Leninists.

Cuenca is over 450 years old and long established as a World Heritage Site. The Spanish colonial architecture in the downtown or Centro makes it feel like you are in time bubble.

An old woman lies on cardboard begging every morning across from our inn. Tiny children follow us on the steps of the new cathedral with their hands out, and inside, people with twisted limbs wait, hoping for a pittance. This is a land without welfare, old age pensions or public health care.

My son, living in their midst for almost nine months, has developed a tough exterior, but I find these people haunting. He admires those who sell something rather than beg; the women with baskets of fruit on the street, flag-waving traffic entertainers and men at the endless speed

bumps flogging everything from mangos to plantain chips. It’s all a bit overwhelming.

We are invited to three host family meals and really appreciate having our own translator in our son. First we dine with his current family, whose daughter is in Denmark, then we are treated to a four-course lunch with his grandparents and finally our invitation is to eat with Geordie’s first parents, Ximena and Paco. Their son is on a Rotary exchange to Germany. Although we cannot comprehend much of what these generous folks tell us, the obvious affection they all have for our son is heart-warming.

One highlight was our day trip to Ingapirga. This ancient sacred site was holy to the Canari people who worshipped the moon, even before the Incas conquered them in the 15th century. Then the sun worshipping Incas created a temple in quarried stone in the middle of dry, wind-swept hills. Our guide brought the landscape to life talking about vestal virgins and 11 sacrificial priestesses. Textile and silver shopping are exceptional in this part of Ecuador.

We were surprised to find good coffee impossible to find in a coffee-growing country. There are no cafes and morning coffee at our hostelarias consisted of warm milk and Nescafe instant granules. My suspicion is that Nescafe exports all the decent beans to North America and sends the crappy instant stuff back.

It takes us over 24 hours and a melt down at United States customs to get back to familiar, reassuring Canada. Visiting the country that, thanks to Rotary International, has captured our son’s heart was fascinating.

It was even worth bringing home an evil intestinal bacteria.