The usually busy flower market near the main square in Cuenca is now quiet. |
Sunset from the roof of my first apartment in Cuenca. |
Mandatory mask use and social distancing on the new streetcar in Cuenca. |
The second apartment was a smaller two bedroom, 1.5 bath on the third floor of a multi-unit residential building (it's the middle building in the above video which shows workers spraying disinfectant on the streets). While it lacked some of the comforts and amenities of the first place, it made up for this in location, being only a 5-minute walk to a local market, 10 minutes to a large supermarket, and about 10 minutes to the historic center.
Mercado 12 de Abril near my second apartment in Cuenca. |
By now I had a daily routine of going for a walk (usually including a stop at the market), cooking most meals at home, working online an average of three hours per day, watching a movie on Netflix in the evening, etc. It was a simple, low cost, and relatively stress-free mode of existence with only one small problem: I was cold all the time! I guess the block construction and orientation of the second apartment, which also lacked any form of heating, trapped the chill and dampness and made it feel colder inside than outside. I had to wear layers of clothes all the time, including socks, shoes and a jacket, even indoors.
While exploring the second apartment building, I discovered I could access the roof above the 5th floor. |
In Cuenca, the average high in July is 68F and the low is 49. It rains at least 10 days out of 30 and is often foggy in the morning but gives way to sunshine and partly cloudy skies by midday. I personally love the climate and geography of Cuenca but, in planning to live in Ecuador indefinitely and only being able to check two pieces of luggage under the current restrictions, I did not bring many clothes suited for cooler temperatures.
Out for a walk in Cuenca. |
Thus, after a full month of living in the mountains, I was ready for a change of scenery and some sunshine and warmth. On August 3, I traveled over three hours back to Guayaquil and then another three hours west and north to the coast.
Home sweet home in Montañita. |
Upon my arrival in Montañita I was immediately shocked by the differences in pandemic-related protocols versus in Cuenca. Specifically, that they are almost non-existent. The majority of the people here do not wear masks in public and, other than signs reminding you to practice social-distancing, you won’t see disinfection tunnels, be subjected to a temperature check, or find hand sanitizer being liberally dispensed at shops and restaurants.
Just like the old days... |
While the province of Santa Elena is still under the yellow light just like Azuay (where Cuenca is located), in the 10 days I have been here I have only seen the police do a safety check one time and that was on a national holiday (Independence Day, August 10). There were large gatherings of people without masks drinking alcohol and playing soccer on the beach, all of which is prohibited right now. The two policemen simply asked everyone that was grouped closer to the town center to disperse. Most just moved farther up the beach.
These guys were playing soccer on the beach closer to town and the police told them to move away from the more populated area i.e. where there aren't security cameras. |
The reality is that the beach, like almost all beaches in the country, is technically closed indefinitely and has been since mid-March, but there are no signs anywhere stating that you cannot access the beach or the ocean. Especially on weekends, you will find a number of beach-front restaurants and bars open and serving customers, many of whom are tourists from Guayaquil or other inland cities in Ecuador.
The beach is practically deserted most days. |
There are two factors at play here. First, the local economy is almost 100% driven by tourism. Montañita, with around 1,000 inhabitants, is a year-round party destination for Ecuadorians and budget travelers. You can’t walk far without catching a whiff of a certain herbal substance being smoked openly and, in normal times, loud music blasts from discotecas and bars that stay open until the early morning. The streets are usually packed with shouting vendors, mobile cocktail bars, and friends laughing and swaying drunkenly.
One of several "cocktail alleys" is now dry. |
Second, the population is much less educated and generally lives day-to-day, with no means of earning enough money to improve their standard of living. In times like this, i.e. the pandemic, which has brought tourism and therefore income to a complete standstill, they do not have many (or any) options other than just trying to survive. Many have abandoned their businesses and are forced to sell anything they have of value (e.g. property, electronics). And while the mood here is one of resignation, that this is how life is for now, still they will make the most of it. There is a sense that it is better to go out and do something versus staying at home and doing nothing... Some will live, some will die, and that is life.
In spite of my mild concerns about health and safety, I have decided to stay here for an entire month, maybe longer. I managed to rent a rustic but functional two-bedroom apartment directly from the owner, a young woman who owns a hostel here in Montañita. She and her boyfriend live in the apartment downstairs and I have the entire second floor with its own private entrance. The only real grocery store in town is less than five minutes walk away and the town center is less than 10 minutes.
A panorama of the deserted town center of Montañita. |
As I write this blog post I am sitting outside on my screened-in porch and I can hear the ocean one block away. The only other sounds are the birds chirping in the large trees that surround this property, the next-door-neighbor’s children playing, the occasional vendor who drives by selling fruits and vegetables or seafood or 20-liter jugs of water, and the airbrakes of the local buses slowing for speed bumps as they travel along the main coastal road known as the Ruta del Spondylus.
The E15 highway, aka Ruta del Spondylus, has very little traffic these days. |
It is 75F with about 80% humidity so I am comfortable wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals. The past two days have been overcast and rainy, but the sun is finally coming out again and I can see blue sky. Most mornings I walk to the store or into town to buy fresh produce and other necessities, then I work for most of the afternoon and cap off the day with a long walk on the beach around sunset.
Walking the beach in Montañita at sunset. |
Life is simple, and life is good.
*******
In case you are wondering about overall infection rates and other statistics regarding COVID-19 in Ecuador, the Ministry of Public Health publishes the current numbers every day on their website. Here’s the latest report:
Also, be sure to check out my Facebook and Instagram pages for more photos and videos from my world travels and (now) life in Ecuador.