Post by John Michael

As a traveler, I often find myself engaged in small talk, and no topic is more frequently the subject of conversation between myself and those that I meet while traveling on the road than the weather. Yesterday I was riding in a truck up the side of one of the three volcanoes that surround the Ecuadorian city of Otavalo, which is located within the country’s northern highlands. I began to speak with my driver about the rash of tornadoes that had just ravaged the American South. He told me what a shame it was that so many people had died, and then he went on to say something that I found very interesting. “It never used to rain this much in Ecuador,” he admitted. “Sure, it would rain every now and then, but never every day like it does now.” He gestured toward the overhanging gray clouds and at the rain that was spattering the windshield. “Before, we would hear about things like what happened in your country, and they were things that only happened in other countries. But now, with these rains, people are dying here, too.” “People have died because of the rains?” I asked him. “Yes,” he nodded, momentarily turning from the road to look me in the eyes. “Thirteen people have died recently from floods and landslides.” He looked back at the road. “And it’s worse, because now, with all of this rain, the crops are beginning to rot before they can be harvested.” I stared out the window at the hilly fields of corn that we passed. “We used to be so happy,” he continued, “because Ecuador was a paradise, but now things are changing.” Five minutes after he had said these words, the rain turned to hail, and we had to pull off to the side of the road and wait until the storm had calmed before continuing on our journey.