I had been with the tour guide for about a week. We met in Quito at a tour agency where I was trying to book a tour of the Andes. He was very handsome and had some special spark that I could just feel when I looked at him. I got on a tour he was leading for three days, hiking the snow capped volcano Cotapaxi, and when the tour was through, he invited me to come relax with him at his favorite hostel in Otavalo for the weekend.

We went to the busy market on Saturday, the beautiful and exotic looking native women in their traditional clothes, silky white shirts and long black skirts, and always smiling. The men in contrast looking very mysterious with their long braids and deep set eyes.

That evening I was complaining to my guide friend that I hadn’t seen enough ‘real culture.’ He laughed and said tomorrow he could take me somewhere very special, a weekly event on a ranch nearby. That night as we lay in our separate dorm room beds I felt very excited, though I couldn’t ...

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