Sometimes it seems like all of South America is in protest. Whether it’s against corrupt governments or the privatization of universities, continent-wide, people seem to know how to come together and voice their opinions.

My most recent visit to Ecuador proved that this tiny country is no exception. When I arrived, it was in chaos over a pending free-trade agreement with the United States. Giant protests raged daily across the country, roadblocks occupied every major artery and the smell of burning tires sat heavy in the air.

I can understand the outrage over the proposed agreement. While some stand to benefit greatly from increased trade with the U.S., the small farmers — many of whom are indigenous and who make up an estimated 50 per cent of the population — risk being further mired in poverty if their markets are opened to cheaper, subsidized food imports from the U.S.

In solidarity, I set out to join the protests in Quito. It was a great experience, but a little tricky to wrangle. When you come to South America it’s possible, with a few tips, to really engage yourself in the goings on of this politically charged continent.

FIVE EASY STEPS TO FINDING A GOOD PROTEST IN SOUTH AMERICA

Step 1 — I first check with the people in my hostel. Being the sweet, protective people that Ecuadorians are, they refuse to tell me where to go in hopes of keeping me safe. So I head out and ask street vendors. Everyone offers a different answer, and a few marriage proposals. As tempting as the marriage proposals are in this land of machismo, you must keep focused. In this city of four million people, the protests could be anywhere, at anytime.

Step 2 — Students and indigenous people have been leading the protests, so I make my way to the university campus. The students kindly sacrifice valuable class time to ensure that I understand why they are so strongly opposed to this agreement. Once they are confident that I am not just in it for the adventure, they let me in on the information. Got it? Today, 1 p.m., Calle Vargas. I have just one hour to get there.

Step 3 — It’s too far to walk, but all public transit is shut down due to the protests. I spend a valuable 25 minutes explaining to a taxi driver why I want to go (“Why do you want to go there?” he asks. “It’s not safe.”) Finally, I find another taxi driver who is passionate about the issue. He decides not only to drive me there, but also parks and joins the protest. He proudly shows me the protest sign that he has stored in the trunk of his car, left over from when Quito hosted the Free Trade Area of the Americas meeting in 2002.

Step 4 — Calle Vargas is a long street, meaning that the precise location of the protest must be located. Enter the most brilliant of strategies: I approach the hundreds of soldiers from the Ecuadorian army who have been posted to the area to quell the protests. I gently play the scared tourist card. “Where are the protests so that I can avoid them?” I ask. They kindly provide me with the precise location of the protests. I head right over there as soon as they turn their backs.

Step 5 — There I am, fighting the good battle for the little guy. Someone hands me a protest sign, and I’m good to go. Be warned — from here anything can happen, as you are now actually protesting in South America. Ironically, I find myself running from the same army guys who gave me the directions, and I outpace them until they tear gas me. Not pleasant. They recognize me right away and pull me out of the crowd to ask me what I was doing. Between the excessive tears brought on by the gas, I explain my passion for the cause. They smile and make plans to join us at the protests after they’re finished their army work for the day. Unfettered free trade with the U.S. is not the best thing for most Ecuadorians, and nobody in this country is shy about showing it.