What Are The Chances? (Pretty Good Apparently)

Quito is huge.  And when I say huge, I mean it in an M.C. Escher kind of way.  It goes on and on and you would swear you are going in a straight line, but then you end up right back where you started.  Quito is sandwiched in a rather narrow valley, and as such, has extended down the valley to the point that driving the city lengthwise from one side to the other (w/ good traffic) STILL takes 2-3 hours. (While going width wise would be maybe 20 min)  It's gotten to the point that I have stopped trying to figure out how it appears to mess with the time-space continuum, and simply accept that once we enter Quito, it's still an hour drive to our destination.  (Even though you can see the destination from the where you are)  So in a city like this, it's kind of increadible how you can run into people from the stangest places.  Example:  I would always run into Daniel, a Spanish teacher I know, along one specific road, at different times, on different days, usually because of a spur-of-the-moment trek to someplace.  Or Gen, another volunteer, who I ran into consecutivly in different places on different days, as she was exploring the town.  But my favorite has to be the American family I ran into on the Teleferico, who were only visiting for a few days.
                                          

     The Teleferico is a cable car that will take you from the valley (at roughly 10,000 feet) to the top of  the mountain range that cradles Quito (13,400 feet).  From there, you can view the city, take horse rides, or trek up a volcano.  I happened to run into these folks as they were talking about things to do in Quito.  They had just arrived from (Tennesse? or Texas?) and had decided to get the Teleferico out of the way (poor brave fools) ((don't do this, the altitude will kick your butt)).  After talking about things to do and places to shop in Quito and beyond, we parted ways.  The next day I had school, and as soon as it was finished, I went to Centro Historico to do some work at the Public Library.  Who should I run into in the Library building, but that same American family.  Seriously, nearly 2 million people living in an M. C. Escher painting, and I keep running into the same people.  I decided that it was too much of a coincidince and I needed a picture (see above).  Maybe it's just me, but I run into people in the strangest places, in other cities, in other states, even in other countries.  It's like I have a homing beacon on people I have met, and then I will find them.  They could be trekking through the middle of the Amazon rainforest, miles from human settlement,cutting through brush with machetes to make a path, and I would run into them.  Considering how often the odds tilt in my favor, I should try Vegas one of these days.