Little joyful steps. Every corner meeting a friendly memory. The smell of diesel por todos lados. The concrete buildings, the colourful signage, the camionetas, the tight jeans, acrylic fluorescent tops and high heels of the girls; the smell of fried food. A beautiful language, friendly people, jugo de guanabana.
And achievements, little but significant. Being happy in Quito; I was rarely if ever happy in Quito. Trying to do it all better than before. Smiling and talking to people. Opting to search further afield for a shop that sells vegetables rather than the first one with its usual offerings of galletas and dulces. To cook and live life how I want rather than a poor copy of it surviving on pot noodles and coca cola. Choosing the things that make you happy, a dinner of rice, tuna, tomato, fresh coriander, maggi maggi, fresh lime and camomile tea.
A warm shower, the last for many months to come! A breakfast in familiar surroundings of hot chocolate, egg revueltos and deciding to navigate the public transport system rather than take a taxi to the bus terminal . A delicious saving of 11 dollars 75 cents. In true form to how the world’s karma works two people on the bus who I hadn’t ever realised were looking out for me, whispered in my ear as they got of the tram, at which stops I should alight.
Conquering little fears is paying off.
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