Everything's Coming Up Roses!

ALERT, SENSORY OVERLOAD!!
AA is back in my good graces cause the planes ran on time. All that anxiety for nuthin! Our trusty driver, Jorge, was waiting for us outside of customs to take us on a 2 hour trip thru the Andes to our destination. Quito is pretty wild. It looks a bit like San Jose, Costa Rica, but at 10,000 feet. We'll explore it on Friday once we figure out how to breathe here. There it's nosebleed, here merely gasping for air.
This little village is so sweet. It's a different way of living i.e. living.
We woke up early Saturday to the ringing of the church bells, had a great and nourishing breakfast (they eat healthy here) and Jorge was outside polishing his taxi while he waited for us. These have to be the friendliest and most respectful people we've ever met. Everyone says hello and means it. There's not a pile of poo poo in sight tho' dogs run free. If I find some on my shoe, I'll let you know. I have no idea where it goes.
On the way to Otavalo we passed an Indigenous (they even refer to themselves that way) funeral. They always dress the same and you can tell where they are from that way. The procession had about 25 people in it. The woman had the long black skirts, black cotton sandles, white puff sleeved embrodered blouses, colorful wovenbelts and long braids with a folded type scarf on their heads. The men had white sandels, white pants and shirts,blue ponchos and long a braid under their Panama hats.Four of them held the casket up in the air and the women had their babies on their backs in white cotton sacks and were carrying large sacks of food for the feast at the cemetery. It was something so visual and different, tho I'm sure they would think the same of our police escorted processions.
The market was wild. There were cows, pigs, guinea pigs (cuy) turkeys chickens, dogs, cats, fighting cocks (they don't use the razors), llama's and on and on and on. Everyone was cooking pigs and rice in enormous pots, tho the stink of the live pigs was stronger than the aroma of the cooked ones, so I waited to eat. Not only were the Otavalian Indigenous there, but other ones in different dress from different areas. You can tell where they are from by their traditional clothing. Of course, some of the teens had on jeans and tees but many were traditional (probably forced to by their parents--some things are universal).
Then we went off to the market which was enormous.It filled about a third of a city of 60,000. Each booth had more colorful items then I've ever seen. You want it-it was there. And the food smelled wonderful. I  chose a whole fried Tilapia that I ate with my fingers. This was not farm raised and what a difference. I wanted to buy some Andean musical instruments and Jorge took us to the home of a well known Andean musical family. Not only did we buy instrumennts that they had made, but they gave us a little concert and demostration. Django will be so excited to get his new rythm instrument made of sheep toenails. I bet he'll be the first in his crowd to have one. Talk about a chick magnet!To be continued (about the roses)