latitude: 00° 00' 00"

In Ecuador, the exact location of the middle of the world is up for debate.

I tend to believe that the one tucked amidst dense foliage off of a dirt road is the real deal. I checked the time by the sun, balanced a raw egg on a nail vertically, and couldn't step two feet in a straight line with my eyes closed and arms outstretched because the force of the north pulling me up and the south pulling me down messed up the equilibrium in my ears, and I nearly toppled straight over. I believed it when the guide demonstrated the Coriolis Effect - the water swirling one way in the north, and the other way in the south, and just straight down on the equator. But I believed it most when I felt the full effect of the equator on my muy rojo cheeks and forehead and nose.

The Museo Intinan was discovered by GPS and is run by locals in jeans with holes in the knees. Some of them speak English, and they spoke of the native Ecuadorian tribes that still live in the Amazon jungle today. We saw the shrunken heads of men on poles - the strength and leadership of the full-sized man transferred into his captor, as his head lay buried under burning embers, its skull removed, down to nothing but the flesh, miniature enough that I gawked and still wondered, "but how is that possible?" A symbolic usurping of power; I get it. (And literal - because the man's head was on a pole, after all.) At that memorial to latitude 00.00.00, these is a playpen of guinea pigs, alive and well and adorably furry; the guide laughed and said, "Dinner!"

At the prettier tribute to the center of the earth, a stately stone monument named Mitad del Mundo rests in the center of a sprawling complex, complete with an elevator to an observation deck and an Ecuadorian museum conveniently winding its way back down the stairs. There are restaurants and gift shops - you can even have that guinea pig dinner... for $22. And I'm positive I saw an amusement-park style ride just down the road. I liked the big "S" and "N" emblazoned in the well-manicured lawn and the view stretching over endless mountains (that view is common in Ecuador).

Zan and I didn't shave our heads on the equator like the sailors once did, and really we didn't do anything legendary. But we stood on the line between North and South, one foot in each hemisphere, home and away from home, here and there, near and far, and it all felt equal because it was equidistant; the world was smaller and more reachable in its vastness, and that felt significant.

Then we got on the wrong bus and unknowingly circled around ("haven't we seen this before?") and watched a funeral procession march through town. Even in the center of the world, I have no sense of direction.