Much like our old home, Pittsburgh, Cuenca has just over 300,000 residents, 3 rivers, and a surplus of bridges. Most of the similarities are what you would expect from any city of comparable size, and most of the differences are negligible. We can work on the language issue, and we're pretty okay with being taller than most people. Our best stories happen when we're off the map, and getting lost continues to be part of the fun. After a few months in Cuenca, we've created a list of some of the more notable differences between here and your average US city.
People use all kinds of barometers to discern when a person becomes an adult. At 27 in Manhattan, I remember being horrified reading an article about a 26 year old woman's death, and thinking I'd be wrongly referred to as a woman, should something happen to me. I have good credit, I have been responsible for people's livelihoods, but I wasn't to taste adulthood until the first time I hired movers.
The bar was empty except for two middle-aged white bros, wearing the ubiquitous indoor fucking ballcap, high-fiving to an election we were both trying to avoid paying attention to, at least for the evening. The world started to feel a little more dangerous, and we hopped a car back to my place in Polish Hill, and kicked on NPR's election coverage. My roommate Sam, Y and I drank heavily, listening to the commentators become increasingly frantic before I turned it off and walked a skewed line into the kitchen for another drink.