This is the testimony of a expat living in the Hacienda San Joaquin, in Vilcabamba. It has nothing to do with story written by Gavin Moore:
It's shocking visiting the United States after living in Vilcabamba,
Ecuador, even for a short while. In just a few weeks in the Valley of
Longevity, you naturally get used to the connection with nature: The
evening lightning bugs, the dreamscape of stars lighting up the night
sky, the sound of the river water cascading its way from the mountains
to the coast. You hear the night crickets of the bamboo forest, the
chattering birds in the morning, and the occasional mooing of a cow
somewhere in the valley.
There's also the scent of life in the
valley; trees, grass, water in the air and rich soil under your feet.
It's part of the fresh breeze you invite into your home each day by
opening your windows to enjoy the near-perfect climate.
Compared
to all this, traveling to the United States and waking up in a city is
a bit of shock. The first thing I noticed is the complete disconnect
from nature. Gone were the sounds of water, birds, insects and animals.
The deep blue sky was replaced with a pale, shallow sky. The moon and
stars seemed distant and dim. The Vilcabamba smell of abundant plant
life was replaced with the scent of diesel exhaust and wet pavement.
There were no natural sounds in the environment, and I was overtaken by
a sense of artificiality. I longed to be back in Vilcabamba, near my
garden, bamboo forest, water canal and medicinal plants.
Of
course, this experience is really more about city life vs. country life
than any particular country. Ecuador has cities, too, where life is
artificial and nature seems distant. But the density and abundance of
life in the Ecuadorian countryside is truly astonishing. It goes beyond
any country living I've ever experienced in the U.S. Only Hawaii
approaches the kind of rich, natural diversity of life that I'm
privileged to wake up to in the Valley of Longevity every single day.