Beer Pong, Football and the Women's Prison

Had to say goodbye to everyone at the Academy this weekend. It was really sad, I've had such a good time there and I'm not sure I'll meet such good friends again. But not too sad, because I've got so so much to look forward to, and at the moment I'm definitely a traveller at heart - have to keep moving!

The last week was really fun. The night of beer pong was crazy - we got through a lot of beer and a lot of pong, thanks to Brad's military rule. Obviously, we had to go out afterwards. Jared bought several fishbowls, which were about 3 times the size of the ones I've encountered before. We went to a very gringo bar, and danced very gringo (Marilyn would have been ashamed, but fortunately she wasn't there to endure the spectacle). We even played the ice game. Shameful! I really didn't think I was that drunk, but I realised when I got out of the taxi that walking was a real challenge. I found my scarf halfway up the stairs to my apartment the next day, and I never did find my sweater. Good night! Needless to say, I didn't make it into the school the next morning. I missed the little exchange of paper hearts that had been organised for Valentine's Day - and I even had a Valentine, after Jared asked me to be his Valentine the day before. Whatever that means, exactly, I'm not too sure. Yep, it's stupidly commercialised over here too!

I dragged myself, hungover, into school for 2pm for the visit to La Carcel de Mujeres (the women's prison). I am very glad I did. It was truly bizarre. I've never visited a prison in England, but I'm sure it they're nothing like this one. In the main area of the prison, inmates and visitors mingled together in a crazy mele. As in the central city streets, people wandered round selling plastic roses, sweets and drinks. There were telefone cabins and vending machines. People were chatting and laughing. Children played. After people-watching in awe for a while, we were eventually introduced to the lady who would tell us something of life in the prison from a westerner's point of view. Zoe Savage was a journalist with the BBC coming to Ecuador to make a documentary, 4 years ago to the day, when she was arrested and ultimately sentenced to 8 years behind bars. She claims that 2 cameramen from her team, contracted by the BBC, had asked her to carry something through customs, and when the bags were checked they disappeared. I believe her story. She seems genuine. She tries to put on a brave and cheerful face, and suggests that life isn't so bad in the prison. It's true that her cell, although cramped (she shares a tiny room, smaller than the worst university room, with 2 or 3 other women), did seem almost homely, with fairy lights, photos and various trinkets and drapes. Yet she explained that, as a prisoner, unless you have a steady stream of income from family or friends you cannot afford niceties such as we saw. Such cells as hers require rent. If you can't afford it, you are thrown into the most basic of cells, which even in her words are "not nice". Zoe then went on to say that she barely gets to see any of her friends and family. Her two children still believe that she is away working. For 4 years! The British Embassy, it seems, can't do anything for her. Oprah Winfrey has heard of her case, apparently, and sends her a little money. It became clear, as she fought back tears, that every day is a struggle for her. One of the girls in our group (some wierdo Brummy hippy, it has to be said), was pretty inconsolable.

On a brighter note, that evening I went with Marilyn, Jared, Brad, Sam and another girl I hadn't met before to a football match at one of the Quito stadiums. We got a bit confused about what stadium it was at, so we missed the first 30 minutes, but for $8 it didn't matter too much! It was great fun. One end of the stand was full of the supporters of both teams, the home team on the ground level and the away team above. They were drinking, dancing, singing and setting off fireworks inside the stand all night long; I wish we had been in that bit! It was a little odd to see 20 foot high fencing separating the pitch from the stands, and also to see a little golf buggy driven onto the pitch to collect injured players (what's wrong with a good old stretcher?). But the football was pretty good. Hadn't been to a game in ages! Less aggressive and definitely more beautifully played than in England.

I went out Thursday and Friday nights too, to spend my last nights with friends from the school who were going to the beach at the weekend for Carnaval. Friday was my last night with my host family, as well as being my last night in Quito. We'd arranged with some of the guys at the school to watch "Robin Hood, Man in Tights" before going out. I'd been wanting to watch it for ages and I think the other guys were looking forward to the prospect of taking the piss out of the English in the presence of an English girl. But my host family had arranged a special dinner for my last night, and Belen didn't get home till 8.30, so the plans didn't quite work out. My "special meal" turned out to be a quiche, which would have been lovely, but for the fact that Mercedes had been unable to find a vegetarian quiche. So I forced myself to eat a mediocre slab of ham and cheese quiche and pretend to be unbelievably grateful. It was a nice gesture! I'd got them flowers and chocolates, and they'd got me a lovely red bracelet. I will miss them! Especially Mercedes' food!

Had a few options this weekend. I could potentially have popped across to Columbia to visit a friend, Carlos, who I met when travelling in Africa. I could have gone to the beach, where a load of the students from the school are heading. I could have stuck around Quito and taken in the sights that I've not yet seen. But instead I'm going to Ambato, which apparently is one of the best and most traditional towns during Carnaval. We're leaving tomorrow morning at some ridiculously early hour. I have to be back for Sunday night to check in to a hotel for the start of my two-week tour of Ecuador, so I didn't really have enough time to make the beach or Columbia. After talking to Carlos I think I'm gonna spend a week in Columbia later. Yay!