It’s raining. It’s been raining for a week already. It started right after the Easter and it didn’t stop till now. Well, ok, it stopped, because it’s not raining constantly but everyday. Normally it rains till seven – eight o’clock. Then it cams a bit – till three, four pm when it starts raining cats and dogs, in few minutes the world is flooded. In the evening a break and it starts again at midnight – till the morning. There were two relatively sunny days but today it’s raining again. Therefore, nothing interesting is going on – not in Vilcabamba neither in my life. I write a bit, I read, I talk with tourists in Jose Luis sisters’ hostel. Many French, again. I took one French girl to the waterfall. She enjoyed it.
My horse Sol lives currently in Raymond’s (an older gentleman from the US) courtyard who has too much grass and no will to mown it. He gives my horse water so I don’t need to care too much. If it wasn’t for the rain, I would ride a bit but with the clouds hanging over my head and the perspective of getting soaked with water I don’t really want to.
Howdy is learning. I teach him. He knows that he should sleep on his blanket on the floor but sometimes (especially if he wakes me up in the middle of the night and I want him to fall asleep quicker) I let him sleep in my bed. I taught him to not eat without my permission. I struggle with his obsession with the compost in our yard. I’m loosing but when he sees me coming, he gets up immediately and pretends to be somewhere else. Dogs are wily.
Yesterday I’ve met the very first Russian tourist. My brain almost boiled up when I tried to speak Russian – but all that was getting out was Spanish. I focused all my willpower on speaking the language of my choice. At one moment something switched in my head and in the evening I was able to speak quite well. I should befriend Hare Krishna from Kazakhstan who live in Vilcabamba – they speak Russian among them. It would be a good opportunity to practice before I forget it completely – it would be a shame to loose those eight years of learning.
In the evening I came to the living room. The Russian was talking to two Germans. I told them I was not going to sit between them because it always finishes badly for Polish. The American and the French with whom I spend the afternoon had left me. Of course I got into an argument with the Russian later – staying, however, cultural and relatively friendly.
I like Vilcabamba. It’s beautiful here but I can’t wait to finish all my paperwork, for the rainy season to end and for my horse’s back to fully recover when I’ll set off to explore Ecuador. I need to find something to do until the time. If only it wasn’t raining…