A Fiery Morning In Cuenca

Came out of the house and up the road this morning to discover a house in the neighborhood on fire. I was out and about on the way to settle into watch the finals for the World Cup at the Inca Lounge when I noticed the fire.

It looked terrible. A twisting fat finger of flame was rolling up into the sky, framed by billows of black smoke and overlaid with the sounds of people yelling. I was with my friend Ben and we both took off for the fire, he much faster than I given my lifetime commitment to wearing shoes not suited for running anywhere.

By the time I hustled up to the top of the hill near the house, several things were clear:

--It had been raining a lot lately, so the surrounding area was fairly well protected

--Nobody was still in the house and everyone was okay

--The Fire Department was on the way, but the bucket brigade was a pack of all-stars. The back of the house was the center of the fire, and anyone with a clear shot, bucket, or hose was tossing water on it.

--Cement construction keeps things contained.

In just a few minutes the fire was a lot less than it had been, and with the sirens closing in we took off. Still, the memory will stick with me for a while. The fire started with the gas in the kitchen - I guess they were changing the cooking canisters {no central gas here} and something sparked. I'll be tip-toeing around the stove tops for a while!