Sizzlin' Summer - Noches Milagrosas!

At home in Kilometro Veintiseis, Ecuador When I was growing up back in the 1950s, my father would take me on the bus into Guayaquil for the major horse races and national days of celebration. On the way home, the bus driver would always shout out "Veintiseis" when approaching our town at the junction of Highway 25 and the road to El Triunfo. Our town was named Kilometro Veintiseis because it is 26 kilometers on the main road from Quayaquil. Our house is just up the road, halfway to the town of Milagro. These were happy times, as the house was always filled with laughter. On Sundays, when there was a futbol game on Canal 4, especially if it was between Cuenca and Guayaquil, the whole family would come over. Now, returning home for a short weekend trip, the house seems quite empty and devoid of life. As an adult, the fantasies of childhood are often replaced with the cares of day-to-day life. My father taught me the importance of storytelling and taking time out to sit and talk with friends. My father had many friends, as his ability to weave a tale were renown and his job as a barber brought many men into the theater of his small shop. I remember the hot summer days when school was closed and I would spend time in my father's company at his barbershop. Besides being a barber, my father ran a thriving parimutuel business from his shop. Many sportsmen came in for a shave and to also place their bets. My mother didn't approve of my father's gambling pursuits, but I don't believe she really appreciated his storytelling skill either. Even back then, I decided to always give storytelling a prominent place in my life, and to keep a secret place for my father's stories in my heart.

A Hub of Activity The days might seem to be quiet and dull but, during the evenings, Veintiseis bustles with activity. At the junction of major highways from the coast to the vast Andean Highlands, the town is a transfer point of comestibles from fincas and small farms, including vegetables and fruits, as well as sugar from Ingenio Valdez, a large refinery in Milagro. Ecuador has three growing seasons due to its location on the Equator, so there is never any shortage of fresh food from the garden. It is also interesting to note that Ecuador is a major exporter of both bananas (Bonita brand) and cassava and has some of the largest Brahma Bull ranches in South America.

Growing up in the Guayas Region was such an adventure. On a class trip to Ingenio Valdez, I learned that sugar cane can be put to a variety of uses. We all know that sugar is one of the basic ingredients found in any kitchen, but I bet you didn't realize that the cane is first made into molasses and then refined into the white crystals. Molasses can be used to coat the dusty dirt roads found all around the Ecuadorian coast, making the "hardtop" glisten in the sun. The rough Bagasse fibers of the sugar cane can also be used to make toilet paper which is biodegradable and compostable. This has cut down on air pollution from the burning of the discarded cane after the refining process.

Babahoyo Nights Some folks think that the city of Guayaquil has the best nightlife, but I'm sure they have never gone up the river, to Babahoyo! There is always a carnival atmosphere in Los Rios Province, with many feasts, fairs and events to attend during the hot equatorial nights. The best way to get there is by boat, and it's always a pleasure to have my good friend, author and raconteur Jaime Huerta, pick me up in his private watercraft. (Read my blog Book Fair On The Equator for background.) Jaime and I go back to more youthful days when we hiked into the Andes and camped out beneath the summit of Mount Chimborazo. Now, it's good to have Jaime along to celebrate the good times of publishing books, writing tales and spinning yarns. Jaime is also an accomplished storyteller and I have to admit that his silver tongue is often much better than mine, even though he doesn't attend storytelling festivals like I do. But, a night with friends brings out the best of my abilities, and the lights of Babahoyo glisten on the evening tide as we enter the harbor. The docks are lined with bars and other amusement areas, but Jaime and I always go to a bar by the name of La Tortuga which is a haven for poets and writers and whose owner, Juan Rojas, offers the coldest beer and a wide selection of whiskey and scotch to loosen our tongues. We won't be drinking the local brand called Trago; tonight we will drink the good booze! Oh, I must tell you one thing: What happens in Babahoyo, stays in Babahoyo. So, good reader, I must say "Adios," see you another day.

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