Cuenca, The City of Four Rivers

Last night I arrived into Cuenca where I will be stationed for three months for school. I say last night because AeroGal, my airlines decided that a three and a half hour delay was acceptable when confronted with moderate rain. I spent most of my time in the airport getting my fill of cribbage and gin. I have to admit I felt I had amnesia because I could not remember for the life of me how to play cribbage until it was far too late. The flight to Cuenca, when it finally did leave, was no longer than my flight from San Antonio to Houston, a light thirty five minute flight over the Andean highlands. I had this misconception that fertile valleys stretch across the entirety between the two parallel mountain ranges, but there is far more geologic formations than that. I overheard while eavesdropping, which I am getting quite good at, that a drive from Quito to Cuenca is more like a twelve hour odessy. So scratch that out as an idea in the future. But from the sky, it was a little more smooth, even though the turbulance was horrendous. From my side of the plane I was able to see the perfect conical shape of Cotopaxi, one of two volcanoes in the world with such perfect shape, the other being Fuji. Supposedly I would be living in the booneys farthest from the school, so there were plenty of jokes pertaining to the distance of my walk that lies ahead of me five days a week. We landed at el aeropuerto de Cuenca, if you can even call it an airport. I think I was expecting more out of the third most important city in Ecuador. I had a lot of misperceptions about this trip. The plane stopped alongside the side of the airport next to the baggage claim. A terminal did not exist. The baggage claim was equally pequeño. As there was only one plane on the ground within hundreds of miles, there was just one baggage claim track that seemed absolutely absurd. Moving along, I met my host family in mi escuela which is a villa in the heart of "downtown" Cuenca. I met my host family in spurts, actually to be more accurate, I met them basically one at a time on their own. Leslie, who is the daughter of Eulalia, my host mother, is a calm genuine Cuencan who I have not figured out precisely her occupation. Her husband, Wellington, has been the most readily accessible family member to talk with because he is learning English in order to become a teacher. He however, has been laid up since he left last night with a hernia in his stomach, but is supposively in better health. My host mother I met late a night when she arrived back home at around nine. She is a teacher of math at a local high school. Today we had our Spanish placement test which I can't place whether it went over well or not, but I am not too worried. I have no vocabulary for verbs I have become quite well aware of. Tonight, because we only have a tour tomorrow and it is the weekend, I am having a night on the town, well sort of. I plan to go and see a movie and perhaps go to a local bar one of the host families recommended. I feel quite at home here. A huge sigh of relief.