Hola Olas (Mompiche)

I have been taught my entire life that the Pacific Ocean is brava -- an adjective used in Ecuadorian Spanish to mean any combination of angry, mean, rough, fierce, and unpredictable. "Cuidado, that dog is brava," the kids warn as we pass a barking canine. "Cuidado, mi mamí es brava," they are just as likely to say before asking permission to accompany us on an adventure. Interestingly in other Spanish-speaking countries, brava may also be used to mean brave or courageous. Not here.

Anyhow, back to the Pacific Ocean. . .

In Northern California, the Pacific is brava. Huge waves crash menacingly onto rocky shores, the mighty undertow is famous for pulling even strong swimmers out to sea, unexpected sneaker waves are not uncommon, and perhaps, most notably the water temperature rarely tops a frigid 55 degrees. There are signposts up and down the Northern California Coast meant to instill fear -- pictures of people being swept out to sea, signs tallying the number of people who have died there, DANGER warnings in bold capital letters.

Unlike my mother, who grew up swimming in the placid warm waters of the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of South Boston at Castle Island, I grew up swimming in suburban swimming pools. As such, I am admittedly scared of the ocean. Yes, we would bundle up to picnic at the beach, wade in the waters until our toes were cramped, and dare one another go further and further on a warm day. But we basically never swam there. I lived in Los Angeles for college and occasionally enjoyed the slightly warmer, somewhat calmer waters of Santa Monica -- up to mid 60s F in the summer -- but still with deep respect for its power. As Dillon pointed out when we were looking at pictures of Santa Monica beaches, there are definitely more people playing in the sand than in the water.

Well, the Pacific Ocean is simply a different beast in Ecuador. She is anything but brava. She is warm, gentle, welcoming, and decisively safe.

This was our third and final trip to the Ecuadorian Coast. We very much wanted to have one more beach adventure with our La Josefina family before Lucia and the kids start school again next week. We were also meeting my dear Peace Corps friend, Kristen, and her two kiddos, Max and Sadie, to kick off their month-long visit. More on them in a later post.

We took the long trek westward (225 miles, ~10 hours travel time -- truck to truck to bus to bus to bus to taxi), finally arriving at dusk in Mompiche, a Northern Ecuadorian beach town in the province of Esmeraldas, known for its Afro-Ecuadorian influence.

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Upon our arrival to Mompiche, we were all immediately enchanted.

Much of the sleepy town of Mompiche is constructed in bamboo with roofs almost universally made of straw. the same paja toaquilla used to make Ecuadorian hats. The beach banks either side of town; to the south, the fishing cove, to the north, the less protected ocean with a wider sandy beach and larger surfing waves. In the southern cove, shirtless fishermen in flip flops roll small wooden motor boats down the beach on tree trunks each morning, later returning to shore to survey and sell their plunder. Some trade for precious lemons, oranges, and plantains. Barefoot women and children untangle nets. Kids play futbol on the beach. One man walked down the dirt road with an entire three and a half foot swordfish, looking for a potential buyer.

Our trilevel bamboo treehouse, built by an Ecuadorian-American family, was located right in the center of town. Thankfully the town was relatively quiet, even on the weekend. It was a charming space, with steep bamboo stairs and comfy beds draped in mosquito nets. We stole Lucia and her sister Mirian for the entire week, to give them a special beach getaway with way less responsibilities than life normally gives them. Mirian did sweep up incessantly; she just couldn't help herself, but she also snuck scoops of peanut butter and kicked our butts at Azul, once we taught her how to play. My kids were excited to get reacquainted with Max and Sadie and to trot into town to buy bread and lollipops.

And, yes, we did we enjoy the playa!

It was hot outside, but the water was a lovely temperature. Ecuador's Pacific Ocean temperatures range from 70-80 degrees Fahrenheit, closer to 80 at this time of year. For comparison, the lap pool I swim in year round in Santa Rosa is kept at 80 degrees. The waves were gentle enough for our less skilled swimmers to play safely, but still lots of fun for those who prefer some good ocean bashing.

We boogie boarded, jumped the waves, rolled in the sand, played frisbee, and basically had a lovely beach week. In the afternoons, we escaped the sun, lounging at the house, reading and playing games. When our larger Ecuadorian family arrived later in the week, we rented a second house, spent even longer days at the beach, and consumed plates and plates of homemade seafood. We also celebrated Domenica's fourth birthday.

Our Ecuadorian family was enamored (slightly obsessed) with purchasing fish right on the beach after the morning catch, returning for shrimp in the late afternoon. They LOVE seafood and fish, in a manner that is almost hard to describe to Americans. Fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner is not atypical in these parts. As such, they filled our bellies with peanut-plantain fish soup, garlic shrimp, and fried fish. On our last day, they even packed a cooler full of fresh fish to take home with them.

My kids have become skilled code-switchers -- able to mostly navigate the complex space between their English-speaking American friends and their Spanish-speaking Ecuadorian ones -- teaching and playing games in two languages, translating when necessary. and explaining and demonstrating cultural practices in both directions. Perhaps, most precious to me, is witnessing their ability to to enjoy the time with everyone, no matter the language or culture.

We found ourselves a bit charred after five long days in the equatorial sun, despite repeated applications of thick sunscreen. And by the end, I was officially beached out. After another long travel day most of yesterday, we are all now happy to be home in La Josefina.

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It is important to note before I close this post that the impact of climate change and poor environmental practices are unfortunately visible everywhere in Mompiche. A huge earthquake centered in nearby Pedernales in 2016 caused permanent damage to important infrastructure and impacted tourist dollars. The town itself appears too be located too close to the ocean. The seawall has been eroded away, unclear if this primarily by rising tides of warming seawater, larger more violent storms, or some combination. An excavator works along the beach every day in tandem with several dump trucks to shore up their tenuous barrier. Per locals' report, clearcutting of mangroves also negatively changed the flora and fauna of the area. Freshwater is limited in town. Locals who grew up in the area mourn the precipitous loss of local agriculture. I wonder about its future.

I definitely prefer the not brava version of the Pacific Ocean that we find here in Ecuador, but I find myself wondering is this version of the ocean too kind to humans, so kind that she is letting us abuse her more readily?

Like so many places on our planet, humans seem to believe that we can take and take and expect the Earth and ocean to giveth indefinitely. . . even though we know it ain't so. May we learn to tread lightly, use less plastic, and tend more attentively and responsibly to the beauty that surrounds us so as to preserve what remains for our children's children and all the children of Ecuador.