Manta, Ecuador

So I went to Manta today in order to get the car checked and get an oil change. The people that I am staying with referred me to someone in Manta. The car got supposedly fixed and the rattling sound that was audible went away while I was with the mechanic but about half an hour later when I was on the highway it started back again. Which means that I have wasted a whole day for nothing.

But hey I got to explore Manta. What a deception! The city is one big slum with stagnant water everywhere which breeds mosquitoes which in turn bring disease such as malaria and dengue fever. The town is dirty and smells like raw sewage. The beaches are filthy without much room to lay down because a lot of the beach is occupied by businesses from bus stations to noisy bars to tourist knick knacks to fish stands. Oh fish stands, great! So I thought but after looking at the dead fish laying there unrefrigerated, with bugs and flies squirming on it, the thick smell of decomposition all around at 100F heat, I got a little bit less excited.

Then come the tourists, lots of them. Skins burned orange from too much unprotected sun exposure, walking with their fancy Nikons around their necks, dressed in the classic safari garb consisting of polyester khaki shorts, matching tops, ridiculous expedition hats with their feet clad in socks inside Teva sandals, proudly carrying their loads of purchases. They are generally to be seen in the tourist spots around mainstream hotels and knick knack stands. It’s a shame for me to be associated with them.

I was trying to find a place to eat some good fish dishes but found that most of the restaurants were closed (it was 2pm) or the quality of their fish looked anything but appetizing. The smell upon entering the restaurant would be that of rotting fish. My dogs breaths smell fresher than that. Not where I would eat no matter how hungry. After spending about an hour looking for someplace to eat, I decided to give up my search and ended up eating… brace yourselves… canned fish with crackers! So here I am in a fishing town and I’m forced to eat canned fish. I was not happy.

Manta has a big expat/retirees population which keeps me utterly puzzled. Who in their right minds would choose to live there? It’s dirty, stinky, polluted, congested with traffic, without anything even remotely resembling a nice beach, with only one tiny patch of green nature which happens to be the central park of the town which sits on the main highway surrounded on all sides with major traffic, smog and trash. I don’t even understand why tourists choose to merely visit Manta but the thought of living there?!?! I could see some fancy houses sitting in the midst of slums, surrounded by the dirt and grit of the city and the envy and misery of their neighbors. Ok, so you have your nice mega house in the middle of screaming poverty! How well can that possibly make you feel? A white person with the most wealth in the whole town having servants and staff catering to you, I guess some people crave that: being singled out as the supposed success. I personally prefer being on equal footing with my neighbors or even better: make a difference by helping my neighbors either by giving them the opportunity for meaningful employment or giving them a hand with their housing construction and living surrounded by well cared for and protected nature. We can’t all have the same aspirations I suppose.