The Fair's in Town!

Every year around this time I find myself getting nostalgic for things I have no business being nostalgic for. Since Rob and I have been married (right at six years now), we have never celebrated Christmas in the same house more than once. That means we have moved to a different house at least once a year every year. But sometimes I imagine us being in our house of many years, the snow falling lightly outside, Rascal Flats’ Christmas album on in the background, Logan and Rob putting a train around the Christmas tree, Abby and I making sugar cookies with red sprinkles on them, and logs on the fire with stockings hung with care on the mantel. This is the part I miss. But there is so much more I enjoy about living in a foreign country. The sights, smells, and sounds are completely new each day. With my pudgy gordita baby, I feel like a celebrity because every time we go anywhere, there isn’t one person who doesn’t point, stare, and smile at me her. 

It’s great here. I mean, where else can you see four nuns in the back of a pickup truck weaving Christmas wreaths with pine tree branches? (I SO wish I had my camera for that one). Where else can you ride a ride at the fair made of old Power Wheels cars nailed to a turning metal plate? A fair came to town two weeks ago, and has yet to leave. We ventured out there the other night.

 Every ride was just one dollar, but half of the rides were being worked on by mechanics. Logan wanted to jump in the ball pit. He disappeared for a second, and I thought of all of those urban legends about… I’ll let you fill in the blank there.

After about thirty minutes in the influenza pit, Logan wanted to play a game of foosball for fifty cents, and then we tried our hand at a game where you throw money on a table and if the spinning rod lands on your coin, you get the amount of money it lands on. #Ecuavegas.

 I love how tall Rob is in this picture compared to everyone else. 

Not owning a car has been nice because no car payment, no gas budget needed, no car insurance, no upkeep, but relying on a taxi isn’t always easy. We have enrolled Logan in a weekly art and fitness class, and on the way there last week our taxi just broke down in the middle of rush hour traffic. Catching a taxi isn’t always easy either. After half an hour of sitting in the sun today trying to flag one down, we decided to just ride the crowded 25 cent bus with our car seat and stroller in tow. Logan and Rob got to sit on the floor by the door because there was nowhere else to sit. Thankfully, ladies with babies always get a seat. I swear our bus driver was auditioning for a role in the Speed sequel. It wasn’t just us gringos who thought we were going to die. The girls in the seat across from me screamed a few times too. See, the buses here sometimes play who’s got more cahones? I guess they race to see who can change lanes faster or better. I have no idea. But at one point (or more) the two buses were maybe an inch apart, barreling parallel down the hill. I think that’s all for now, just loving this adventure!

Some more pics: