Drag Queen Drag Out

Muisne, Ecuador

I took off on Wednesday morning for my whirlwind tour of Ecuador. I had a week and a half to visit four different cities scattered around the country and talk to tour agencies as a part of my internship in Muisne. Though I was incredibly lucky to get this assignment (and I was; the thought that I was getting credit for school while laying on the beach with two blonde Swedish girls or under the kneading hands of an indigenous masseuse, warmed my heart) I was able, through a series of blunders and unlikely events, able to make it much harder than it needed to be. From Muisne in the North-east corner of Ecuador I left in the morning headed south, intending to spend a night in Montañita (my favorite beach town, that I’ve described before). There are two different ways to go, I could either take a round a bout way that meant only two buses, or go down the coast, which meant a few more buses, but I figured it was the more direct route and therefore the faster route. I was wrong. After traveling all day on seven buses and a boat, I pulled into a town that the bus station proclaimed Xipixapa (pronounced Hipihapa and spelled by most people Jipijapa), two hours north of my destination and was informed that there were no more buses headed south that night. The next morning I finally reached Montañita and the conclusion that because it was Thursday already and I wouldn’t be able to make the next town on my list until Friday night, that I had better just stay where I was for the weekend. Luckily there was a local fiesta and new friends to keep me entertained. From Montañita I took a night bus to Vilcabamba which is a little town in a beautiful valley in the South, where I really had not much work to do, but I had always wanted to go. It’s famous for it’s hostals with massages, mud treatments, etc. So I hung out in Vilcabamba for a couple of days soaking up its splendors. But oops, it was now Wednesday morning, I really had done anything yet, and I only had until Sunday to be back in Muisne. So I hopped on a bus for the six hour ride north to my next city, Cuenca.

When I arrived in Cuenca, I bought a ticket for Quito for 11:30 that night and left my backpack in the bus office. I then ran around Cuenca talking to the agencies and when they closed, sat myself in a bar to watch basketball and drink some beers (it makes it easier to sleep on the bus). I came back at 11 that night and found that somehow: 1. I had lost my bus ticket 2. There was never a bus from that agency going to Quito and 3. My backpack was now safely locked in the closed office. I only spent about five minutes arguing with a very suspicious information clerk, before I realized the futility of trying to convince him to call someone in from their home to unlock the office for a highly dubious, slightly intoxicated gringo, with no ticket for a bus that didn’t exist. Oh well. I spent that night in Cuenca and the next day on the bus. I got to Quito that night at 7 o’clock just wanting a shower and to sleep in my own bed in the house of my host family. Unfortunately, my key no longer worked and nobody was home. Perfect. I found out that someone had broken in a couple of weeks before. I slept in a cheap hotel. The next day I finished my work in Quito and was even able to spend Saturday visiting friends before I took the night bus back to Muisne that night.

Which brings us to the story that inspired the title of this email. I had to transfer buses at about four o’clock in the morning, and when I got on the next bus I found that I was alone; alone that is with two drag queen brawling it out in the aisle of the bus. Press-on nails, horsehair braids, and lisped curses flying, I settled down in my seat, too exhausted to really be properly amused at the spectacle. With much pushing, shoving and pulling of fake hair, they were trying to push each other off the bus without any success on either side. Finally an indigenous man with his wife and two small children boarded and he complained to the driver, who in turn threatened to throw battling vixens off the bus. We pulled into Muisne at six in the morning as the sun broke over the water, the children nestled in the layers of their mother’s skirts, and the reconciled lovers cooed in the back of the bus.
Well kids, that’s all for now. I will be home in exactly a month on July 1st. I hope this message finds everyone well. Moe.