In Chuquiribamba, we stopped to buy refreshments at a shop called Los Angeles. We had the pleasure of meeting the shopkeeper-- an attractive, humble but proud woman. I told her that I really liked her tidy, little store, a tienda similar to any throughout rural Ecuador-- well organized, clean with all the necessary merchandise. I was taken back when she replied that she thought I was making fun of her. That small interchange and misunderstanding made me realize that, when trying to evaluate another's "culture," it is impossible to objectively know exactly what "the other" is thinking and feeling. The act of human observation, because it can't fail to be subjective, invariably alters the meaning of that which is being observed. I found it interesting that this cultural blindness is similar to the concepts outlined in the law of particle physics known as the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. This law states that it is impossible to know both the position and speed of a subatomic particle because the act of "observation" changes one or the other. How much more "subatomic" can you get than the products of the human mind, I wondered?

The road after Chuquiribamba became a bit less well-kept and the landscape seemed harsher. Houses and farms became scarce--we were reaching the natural end of the road. In this more inhospitable part of our trip, we observed that the soil (exposed where the road cut through) was marked by very strong colors--purple, red, orange-- which provided evidence of a potential richness in mineral exploitation. For whom, I wondered? History has shown that locals rarely benefit from raw resources found on their homeland

The road narrowed down to a car width. At one point, the road became dicey as, to our right, we abutted against a sharp cliff , and, to our left, we observed a plunging precipice. Underneath us, there was loose sand from a recent landslide. Fortunately, we passed through this area unharmed. Looking back from a safer position, I realized that the circuit we had been on could be an ideal route for a multi- day mountain bike trip with camping or lodging in the towns. Beautiful scenery, a rugged ride and the possibilities for true cultural exchange--what more can one want? Ecotourism at its best, I ascertained.

We crossed a gorge that separated two mountain ridges and we began traveling on the face of the mountain that had been opposite from us until then. We entered the picturesque town of Gualel, where a young boy allowed me to take a picture of him--the sweetest picture I personally have ever taken. Dressed in typical poncho and hat, the boy flashed the friendliest of smiles, resonating with innocence and freshness, as he peered at us from the window of his home.

After a few more turns in the road, we finally arrived to El Cisne. And, what a sight it was! Amidst the modest traditional red tile roof houses of the campesinos, with the rugged Ambocas mountains as a backdrop, a huge gothic style basilica jutted out brightly and beamed in its own cyan aura.