Cuenca-Paradise Found Written by Tyrel Nelson
Photographed by Nuryajans Sheik Valverde
It was a rough teaching week. My three classes of restless, often
scatter-brained English students were uncharacteristically hellish
for four consecutive days. In fact, those adolescent, energy vampires
completely drained me. As a result, I opened my eyes a little
later than usual on this Friday morning.
10:02…the silver timepiece showed.
I swiftly sat up in bed and strained my eyes towards the travel
alarm clock on the other side of my room, hoping to have misread
the digits. No luck. The tiny screen was displaying the correct
time.
Normally an early-riser, I hate waking up late feeling to have
wasted a good part of the day. That said, I inhaled a bowl of
Corn Flakes, rushed through a shower, threw on my clothes, and
hustled out of my apartment.
Standing at my doorstep, I looked at my watch and glanced left.
Although I was intent on making up for lost AM minutes, I still
felt obligated to do the same thing I had done every other morning
for the past six months: chat over a cup of Joe with my next-door
neighbor. Hence, I strolled to the end of the hallway, rapped
my fist a few times on the wooden door, and entered Room 16.
“What’s wrong?” Sheik asked from her small
kitchen table.
“I’m bored,” I replied as I paced back and forth,
staring into my coffee.
“You need to settle down! I’m getting nervous just
watching you,” the lanky, dark-featured woman said sharply.
“I have to get out of this building for a little while.
I’m losing my mind here,” I continued.
“Fine,” my 52-year-old neighbor responded while leaping
from her seat and rushing towards the bathroom. “Let’s
go somewhere. Just give me five minutes to shower.” Then,
she shut the door.
A couple of minutes
later, the bathroom door abruptly swung open and there stood
Sheik-fully dressed and ready to hit the street.
“I’m fast,” the long-haired Tica said
with a smirk. Shocked by her quickness, the only thing I
could do was nod.
Exiting the apartment complex, we found ourselves standing
on 12 de Abril- one of the city’s busiest arteries,
with no direction whatsoever. And on account of our indecisiveness,
we stood silently for what seemed like an eternity.
The problem was that I’d pretty much seen everything
Cuenca had to offer during my seven months in Ecuador’s
Southern Sierra Andes and, therefore, struggled to decide
on a destination that interested me. Standing there, I remembered
a very pleasant place that I had only been to once very
briefly.
“Have you been to Paradise Park?” I asked Sheik.
My friend simply shook her head while following my lead.
Ambling east along the paralleling Tomebamba River, the midday
sky toyed with us, alternating between short rounds of sunlight
and sprinkles. The graying Costa Rican loudly philosophized along
my side, competing with the roaring engines, horns, and catcalls
coming from the bustling byway as we meandered down 12 de Abril.
After a couple of miles, I recognized a key landmark at last-the
Vicente Coral Moscoso Regional Hospital. Sheik and I were close.
We skirted the western and southern borders of the clinic’s
property, which eventually brought us to our destination. All
across grew vibrant flowers, grassy knolls, and neck-breaking
eucalyptus trees that held up the heavens. We were standing at
the edge of Paradise Park; a true gem hidden in the municipality’s
southeast corner.
“It’s incredible,” the Tica exclaimed while
admiring the varied vegetation of the enormous greenspace.
As we paced towards the trail on the park’s south side,
I reached into my backpack and pulled out my camera. Knowing that
she was much more qualified to use it, I handed my Canon over
to Sheik and told her to go for it.
Following the picturesque path eastward, I couldn’t help
but watch my neighbor perform in her element. Having spent the
majority of her well-traveled life taking pictures, this very
talented photographer constantly crouched, leaned, twisted, turned,
tiptoed, closed in, and zoomed out to digitally preserve the unique
perspectives that came naturally to her. Sheik made photography
look easy.
As my friend continued to take snapshots, we admired the rest
of the recreational area: breathing in as much of the fresh air
as possible while passing by chirping birds, tranquil ponds, verdant
foliage, and the occasional indigenous person relaxing on the
lush lawns. We wandered along a wooden platform that zigzagged
its way around towering thick eucalyptus trunks, which led to
the refuge’s eastern tip. There, we had an excellent view
of the junction’s fast-flowing waterways that bordered the
park. It was fascinating to see where three of Cuenca’s
four famous rivers ultimately came together- Yanuncay, Tomebamba
and Tarqui.
Finally, my companion’s trigger finger weakened and I was
getting shaky-legged from all the gallivanting we had done. And
so, Sheik and I took in some last clean breaths, soaked in some
last vistas, and headed for the exit.
As we sauntered our way out of the park, I noticed the impressive
silence of the greenspace being steadily overtaken by traffic
noise. Nevertheless, unlike my grumpy start to the day, I felt
incredibly calm. And apparently, my friend could see the change
in my demeanor as well.
“Are you okay now?” Sheik inquired. “You were
unbearable this morning.”
Walking alongside my straight-shooting neighbor, I looked over
my left shoulder to take one last look at Paradise.
“Never better,” I answered.
From September 2005 until August
2007, Tyrel Nelson worked as an AmeriCorps
Construction Assistant, leading volunteer crews and building
houses on behalf of Twin Cities Habitat for Humanity, which
is based out of Minneapolis, MN. Tyrel currently lives in
Ecuador, where he has been teaching English since September
2007.
