Travel Pains

By Gary G Tomlin

Western Plains, Ecuador — While traveling south to north, the length of Ecuador, I chose the route at the foot of the western foothills of the Andes Mountains. Traveling by bus, I started the three day trip in the mountain city of Cuenca, skirted the coastal city of Guayaquil, north along the front range through banana plantations and coconut palms into the heart of Ecuador’s agriculture region. Then travel Northeast, climb through the City of Santa Domingo, and to the second highest Capital in the world and the international airport at the Quito. These are the four largest cities in country. Three are of the Spanish tradition and nearly 500-years-old. Guayaquil, the largest, is the size of Chicago.

I stopped for the night at a thriving Agriculture based town known as El Empalme, where they don’t know how to spell “Turista.” At least I never saw it written anywhere nor saw anything close to a tourist attraction. Also, never saw another Gringo.

The buzz; the vibe; the karma of the street was that of Life. People living, finding happiness, with meager means, hard work and family love. Emplame offers nothing phony. No facade; indeed, all of the buildings could stand a coat of paint, but if one has purpose here, I imagine it offers abundant living.

 Empalme which translates as, “The Connection,” but it’s official name is Velasco Ibarra, after former President José María Velasco Ibarra, whose political career makes Donald Trump’s look like a box of bonbons.

 President Velasco served five non-consecutive times from 1934 to 1972, but only completed one full term. Four times he was removed to exile by military force. His is an interesting story: in short, he was adept at threatening the wealth of the Landed Gentry in favor of the working people. He was great for bringing programs and projects that improved quality of life for the unwashed. The military kept sending him into exile, and the working poor kept voting him back into power.

(From Britannica: “Velasco Ibarra wrote several books on statecraft and in 1952 described himself as a neoliberal representing a “third position between capitalism and communism.”)

El Empalme and the Agriculture sector of the region sprang up after a giant reservoir was built on the  nearby Daule River in the 1960s. Therein lies my attraction to the town. Before the reservoir, the region was vast, undeveloped, tropical forest. This development presented opportunity to the indigenous of the region and investment in Ag related businesses. It attracted a large contingent of Chinese immigrants. Four generations later, they have earned a solid piece of the farm economy.

It’s a hard-working community where young people cruise the strip at night on motorcycles.  I saw no homeless, beggars or skinny people. It is said to be crime-ridden and dangerous, but I walked the streets both nights I was there and had no concerns or altercations. People are serious, helpful and friendly.

 I arrived in the evening on a packed commuter bus from Quevedo,  found a suitable room, had a fabulous meal at Ho Sang Steakhouse, and called it a day. 

Morning came and I planned to get an early start, travel north to the City of Santo Domingo and knock around there for the day and night. It also is a young city that was established with the construction of the reservoir and development of the Ag industry.

A lot of chapters of my family history ended with heart attacks and strokes. I figure that to be how my end might come. I developed a sharp pain in my chest, and altered my travel plans to stay where I was for another night. I rested through the morning.

This is the first time I’ve had severe chest pain. It hurt with each breath, and when it didn’t subside, I reluctantly accepted that I needed to go to an emergency room.

I pulled up Maps on the phone, and it showed me a hospital nearby. I went to the street, flagged down a taxi and showed the location. He took me there straight away.

Once there, I fumbled through the translator app too explain my symptoms and concern, they asked a lot of questions, did an EKG and blood work, and I waited. 

I sent my life-long friend Jeff a brief message on WhatsApp telling him what I was dealing with, the hospital name, the city and state. My thinking was, if my shift is over, and I’m going to punch-out and go home, I should tell someone where I abandoned my temple..

No disrespect to my siblings, but they’re not on my WhatsApp, and that’s what it was expedient.

Jeff responded immediately with prayers and concern, and we had a comforting chat while I waited. 

The EKG was normal, and the blood enzymes in acceptable range. No sign of heart problems.  

Apparently, I just strained a pectoral lugging my heavy suitcase up to the second floor of the hotel. 

Relief came with this information, and Jeff shared that he was with his daughter. She’s a teacher and has a business of taking students on international educational tours. She translated the name of the hospital and told him, it was an obstetrics and gynecology facility; a women’s hospital.

They had a laugh at my expense, and it got more comical.

Prostitution is legal in Ecuador, and part of the government’s regulations are that the sex workers must be licensed and submit to monthly medical exams. I saw indications that this facility specializes in that market.

It made me get all poetic.

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Perfect Departure
by Gary Tomlin
A disgruntled old Capitalist
                         transitioned to the “What’s Next,” 
                                               through a portal; at a hospital for whores.

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