Good night, indeed!

So, about 10 minutes after I finish writing that last post, there is an abrupt knock at my door, which was strange, especially for it being after midnight. It was one of the neighbors, saying only, “We have to leave right now. The volcano.”

I guess I hadn’t noticed that all of the drunk singing people were heading in the same direction; namely, along the evacuation route and down to the bridge to get the hell out of town. Within 3 minutes, I gather a bag of necessities, find some warm clothes, put on my running shoes (as if that is going to help in the event of an “event”) and head outside to see what the hell is going on, exactly. Lots of things, apparently. By this time, all of the metal grates on the businesses are shuddering, as is the ground itself. There is a smoky orange glow coming from up in Mama Tungurahua’s direction. The neighbor’s one car is already packed full with the old people and the kids, and the other neighbor with a car has decided to hang around until it gets worse. This leaves us “middle-aged” people to head to the bridge, as quickly as possible. It takes about 4.5 minutes to get there, walking at a fast pace.

The bridge itself, which straddles the Pastaza River Gorge, was built specifically for evacuation purposes, after the last major evacuation in 1999. Then there is a connected road that takes you up another mountain, and ostensibly, out of harm’s way. There is a more or less steady stream of cars crossing the bridge, along with plenty of pedestrians. Most people are sitting just on the other side of the bridge, watching the lava show, which is more visible from that vantage point, and pretty spectacular, too. Everybody is calm. People are laughing and listening to their transistor radios for more news. “There is an eruption happening”, says the news. Yes, we knew that, thank you. We eventually learn that the alert level for Baños is still only at orange, though, which is good. This also means that the evacuation is not mandatory (which is what happens when the alert level hits red). After walking up the mountain for a better view, and being slightly dissappointed that the activity had diminished, a few of us decide to go back into town to the radio station, which has a direct line (via shortwave) to the vulcanologists. The radio also happens to be in the church, which is an extra bonus, as is the fact that one of my friends is there alone, doing the broadcasts. It is about 4 am at this point. So, I end up at the radio station, hanging out in the control room and drinking wine and listening to the vulcanologists on the shortwave until the sun starts to come up, at which point there is also almost no activity up on the Mama. Time to sleep, finally.

Will post more photos soon.