I met a random guy at Ta Quitos, a little Mexican takeout window in Quito, who held the key to an experience that I had been hoping to come across at some point.
Just as I ordered my burrito, I planted my elbow into some spilled sauce on the counter. ‘Ce la vie’, said the stranger. ‘Verdad’, I said, laughing, true. Clumsiness and I have become familiar, comfortable companions on my travels thus far.
This guy, and I never found out his name, asked me my plans for the evening. They were indeed mundane: packing and preparing myself for a load of flights and avoiding the hectic streets of La Mariscal, Quito. He understood it, but persuaded me nonetheless to at least make it along to Plaza Foch for 8:00PM, if not the follow on party at El Aguijón. I was intrigued.
I arrived at the square to crowds gathered around a temporary movie screen showing the last parts of a sweet, nicely shot fictional film called Mi Amigo Invisible. It was one of eleven films being screened for the Festival de Cine bajo de Luna 2800 metros de altura (Film Festival below the moon at 2,800m), sponsored not only by local organisations but also drawing in funding from governments in Ecuador and Spain.