Tena

Tena was not what I expected, yet fun all the same. Rebecca´s house was not actually in Tena, so really I should say Archidona -- a small town (although large after Las Tolas) ten minutes in car away from Tena. Most interesting to see was how extremely dry it was. We were in "the jungle" and yet everything was dusty. All of the rivers we went to were at least 10 feet below normal, and this at the end of the rainy season. Rebecca and especially her father were very shocked and I think a little worried. When water costs more than gasoline you know something isn´t right...

at the zoo with the rescued monkeys

en las cavernas
a formation in the shape of a cauliflower

a bridge in Tena, destroyed in six hours of rain

Misahualli

Making Chicha de yuca, a beverage in Ecuador commonly fermented with the aid of the maker´s saliva

A taste of Chicha (made without mastication)

Vessel used in the making

Water damage/level

Monkeys run wild in Misahualli

Back to the fast-paced life

Today I left Las Tolas with much sadness. I actually cried when I was hugging Amparo goodbye. Funny how I cried at first because I wished to leave, and cried at the end because I felt like I could live there for the rest of my life. I seriously considered (and am still considering) saying ¨screw sight-seeing¨and staying in Las Tolas until the day of my flight.

Tonight I´m in Quito with Rebecca, the girlfriend of my Las Tolas family´s employer. Tomorrow I will go with her to Tena (the amazonian jungle baby!) for a few days. After that I haven´t decided exactly where I´m headed, but it will probably be Baños.

My Las Tolas Family
Daniel, me, Justo, Amparo, Juan, Jenny, Edy, Sebastien
(it was late at night, they usually never stop smiling)

ups

In Quito for the day. It´s nice to be surrounded by people who don´t know who I am, yet at the same time I can´t wait to get back to Las Tolas. I had forgotten how horribly polluted, noisy, dangerous and most importantly hectic the city is.

Looking back over my posts I felt I needed to update you on my experiences. Yes the first week was hard, but now that I´ve gotten into the swing of things I absolutely do not want to leave. The countryside is beautiful beyond words and even though it is only sunny for about half an hour per day, I´m not feeling the depression and claustrophobia I usually get from cloudy days.

This week two volunteers -who have become my good friends- leave Las Tolas. It is sad to see them go, but last night four new volunteers arrived. So far everyone has either been from the US or England, so I am not drowning in Spanish (in fact, I´m floating just above the surface and feeling more confident each week that I can get by with my Spanish no matter where I go).

The first week felt like an eternity and the second week felt like a blink of an eye. It´s amazing that more than half my time in the village has already flown. I am getting on better with my family now that I understand a little more of their slurred tongue (I found out they´re originally from the coast...near Guayaquil...which is the reason for their accent).

Todo bien. I hope you all are doing fantastically.
Mica

A week in Las Tolas

6/5/10

Well I almost didn't get to the bus station on time because I misjudged how far I had to walk with a heavy backpack. Luckily I decided just to pay for a taxi. Once on the bus it was very easy...Las Tolas is the last stop. The bus assistant (all buses have the driver and someone who takes money/tickets and yells from the bus the destination) asked me where I was from. When I said the US, he came and sat down next to me to practice his english. He said he was going to India to fly a fighter plane? And he had to take english classes 8 hours a day in order to this (?). It was all very nice to have someone to talk to, but then he started asking me how long I was in Las Tolas (“Four weeks! Why would you stay that long!”...oh great, thank you for that vote of confidence) and what I was doing afterwards (“I can be your guide to where ever you're going...do you have a cell phone? No?! Oh, well that would be hard then”).

I got off the bus to find most of my host family waiting for me. Their house is at the very end of the row of houses that is Las Tolas. I got butter and rice (mostly butter I think) with fried cheese for dinner. They were going to a party, but I went to bed. It's very hard to sleep well on a thin, bowed mattress and a thick, hard pillow.

my room

6/6/10

Day one accomplished. Not very much happened, as today was sunday. At 7:30am I went with Amparo, the mom, to see where she and her husband work. It is a piece of land owned by a man rather wealthier than everyone else here, with animals, coffee bushes, and a much cozier house. And he speaks a small amount of english. And he also hosts volunteers. Why couldn't I have been placed with him?

I feel bad to be that way, and I think I'll get over the culture shock soon, but I definitely have not settled into my family yet. Their house is extremely small, and while the bathroom is actually in the house, it smells of piss and is the size of a small closet. And they don't eat vegetables! Now I feel like my stay in Quito was extravagantly filled with vegetables and fruits.

I'm extremely glad I took three weeks of Spanish before coming here. I can't imagine not being able to speak at least a little.

I'm told there are two other volunteers here. I met one of them, from California, today but we only talked briefly.

I was told it would be warmer here than in Quito, but so far I haven't felt it. Right now I am shivering in my hat and long-underwear. Shit I shouldn't have sent that sweater home.

Tomorrow the work day starts at 6am I think. I'm not sure what exactly I'll be doing yet, but I think I understood something suspiciously like “teach english,” which is positively terrifying. I never could understand the technical workings of verb conjugations and the like. Also, Sebastien (the dad) was telling me that I have to sign a contract saying how long I'll be staying here. AHHH!!! What if I sign it and then decide I absolutely can't stay here for four whole weeks? That's rubbish. I do not want to sign a contract. I understand and agree with why they do that though.

Also today was a volleyball match which was actually quite intense, with money betting and everything. They have matches every weekend (meaning friday, saturday, sunday and monday) and if you want to play you have to put $10 in the pot. That means the team who wins gets $60! That's high stakes here, and they definitely play to win. I found cell reception about a ½ mile walk up a steep hill. 28 more days here.

Volleyball on weekends (ie friday, saturday, sunday, monday) outside of the church which is never used

6/7/10

Hoy, yo no se que paso. It feels like an eternity.

En la manana, fui a la casa de la mujer qui toma el dinero, pero yo le olvide mi dinero. Of course. Mas tarde fui a la artesania donde hice un braceleto muy bonita. Me gusta la artesania y Mariana, la mujer que trabaja alli. Y estan dos otros voluntarios aqui! Nathan es de California y Alex es de Ingleterre. Hay un otra chica qui es con la Peace Corps, pero yo no ha vido su. Creo que ella esta en Quito por la semana. Alex sale en menos que una semana y Nathan tiene solo dos semanas mas. :-(

En la tarde hubo un reunion sobre turismo para explicar al comunidad cual es un turista. Despues la reunion, todo la gente me ayudio a decidir que voy hacer este mes. Ahora, tengo una plana total para todo los dias aqui.

Estoy cansado y son solo las nueve! oyevey.

Buenas noches mis amigos.

Las Tolas

maybe three times as big as what you can see in this photo

6/8/10

It's funny how everything can change in a day. I feel really happy and content to be here right now.

This morning I picked coffee with Sebastien for about four or five hours. The landscape is so beautiful. It was a very peaceful, solitary morning spent getting sweaty and dirty. Then we ate rice, lentils, and fried plantains for lunch. I can't quite work it out, but I believe they own two houses. One within the village, and another on the land of the man they work for (which is only a twenty minute walk from their other house). I then promptly fell asleep in their hammock cuddled with an adorable kitten (poor thing was glad to escape the rough love of Edie, qui tiene dos anos).

I finally took a shower and was pleasantly surprised to find a steady stream of water that could pass as warm. The water pressure here is better than in Quito oddly enough. Then I washed some clothes. They were all very amused that I could actually wash my clothes by hand, and made me very uncomfortable by staring and then when I looked at them they just giggled. I wanted to yell “WHAT'S FUNNY?!!!” I don't know why I hate being stared at, but there it is. And I know I wasn't doing a poor job, because afterwards Amparo remarked how fast I was.

Later in the day, after much confusion and frustration on my end (Ecuadorian life is paced so extremely differently from what I'm used that I feel as if not much gets done unless I am completely on top of it, which is hard and uncomfortable as I am the outsider), I taught a dance class to all the little ones. It was in no way organized but fun all the same. We went over hustle, samba, salsa and cha-cha.

I am having a good time, with only two complaints.

1. The food. I am dying for vegetables, figuratively and perhaps literally too as I cannot take a shit. No joke, the only thing resembling vegetation since I've arrived has been a few dices of tomatoes which had marinated with a chicken. Tomatoes aren't even vegetables...they're fruits! It's interesting though – I can feel my body adapting to this knew diet. My weight is shifting towards my stomach from all this fried, beige colored food. Good thing I like rice, as that is with every meal except breakfast (and that too some of the time).

2. My host mom. Even when I feel like I am explaining something very clearly, she hardly ever understands me (the dad too, but it's harder to get mad at him because he is engaging and obviously wants me to be happy). Others understand what I'm trying to say, so I know it's not just me. She also talks quite fast (even after several times of me telling her I understand better when she speaks slower) and with a slurred accent. When I don't understand something, her idea of getting me to comprehend her is to speak louder, faster, and repeat the sentence over and over without allowing me time to respond or even think. It is very frustrating to say the least, and usually makes me want to go and cry. Additionally, whenever the 2 year old does anything, Amparo looks at me and giggles, as if for approval. Sometimes she will even respond to someone else while looking straight at me. As I don't understand everything that is going on, this can be very confusing.

Tonight I paid my stay. 30 days for better or worse.

6/11/10

Every day here seems like a week simply because everything is new to me. What has happened since last I wrote? I believe it was wednesday that I went to pick coffee with Sebastien again. I lost my glasses in the tall grass and miraculously Sebastien found them! That same day I learned all about processing cafe. I have now been a part of every single step from plant to mug!

First the berries must be de-shelled so that only the seed and juicy coating remain. Then they ferment for 16 hours. Then they are washed (about 6 times) and picked through 'til only the best remain. After which they are laid out to dry. Then there is another husk to be taken off before they are dumped into a pan and roasted (there is a machine to do this but it is big and expensive).

Because I was there late into the evening, the owner of this farm (I believe my family is the only family in the village that doesn't have a farm of their own) and his wife invited me to eat dinner and drink a cup of the coffee I had just roasted. They are most definitely mestizos and I believe Hermanico was a Colonel in a war. As such, they speak very clearly and I can understand almost everything they say. It was an extremely enjoyable evening.

When I walked back to the village it was dark. When I arrived at the house Amparo literally blocked the door and demanded Que paso? I said a was at the farm like I had told her I was going to be. I could tell she was pissed off because she still blocked my way. After several seconds of staring at each other, I was let in and asked if I wanted food. I said I had eaten. Then I was asked if I wanted food again, as if I might have been lying the first time. I said no, I had already eaten. Then something was said that I didn't understand and Sebastien tried to explain. I thought he was saying “pig” so I made a snorting noise and the whole room burst into laughter. After being confronted, asked a question twice because I wasn't to be believed the first time, and then laughed at, I closed the door to my room and cried myself to sleep. I need to gain a huge sense of humor fast.

Thursday morning I awoke to find pig guts (intestines, heart, liver, etc), hooves, and head sitting in the basin where I wash my clothing. Apparently a pig had met its sorry, squealing end right outside my window whilst I was asleep. I had the honor of carrying the head and a bucket of blood all the way to the farm. Mail ordered sense of humor arriving soon.

Then Sebastien and I trekked down the mountain, ushering the bulls to a different pen. Just a little ways farther was the waterfall I had been promised. I wanted to cry when I saw how small it was and thought of the walk back up the mountainside. It was literally all the way down the mountain. However, I made it back up and felt great, if a little exhausted and red in the face.

At five I taught a second dance class for the little ones.

This morning I got up at 6am, half an hour before I normally get up, and caught a rickety truck ride with Nathan (another volunteer from CA) to Luis's farm. I milked a cow very poorly and then we set off to the forest to create trails for future tourists interested in birding. How satisfying it is to be the first person to hack the way, complete with machetes and rubber boots.

I rode back on the back of a dirt-bike, no helmet.

When a got back to the house no one was there and I remembered that I was supposed to walk to the farm for lunch. I was about 20 yards away when along chugs Amparo, Sebastien and Edy on one motorcycle. They tell me I should turn around walk all the way back to the house if I want lunch. Low on blood sugar and aching, I was a little peeved. My consolation came in the form of the first vegetables I've had in a week! Is that steamed broccoli, cauliflower and carrots that I see?! PRAISED BE GOD!!!

Off to take a nap.

6/13/10

Saturday morning dawned cloudy as usual and I made my way to the finca. I was going to ride a horse! ...which however turned out to be considerably less enjoyable than I had hoped. I am used to horses being treated like people and with much respect.

I asked for a brush to clean off the horse a little, and then came the very old, very hard saddle with a scratchy rope for reigns. I was told to hop on, without being asked if I knew anything about riding. With a slap on the horses rump from Daniel I'm told “see you later” only to realize that Juan, who is about seven years old, has been order to follow me...on foot. So off I go bruising my butt bones with Juan holding onto the horses tail, making it very hard to ask the horse to do anything, including stop. Every time the horse glimpsed another horse, she would get very agitated, balk, then try to get closer to the other horse. When we returned (not too long gone as I felt so bad that little Juan had to jog behind me the whole way) the horse promptly stepped on the dog's foot and then mine. My pinky toe is not happy, especially being crammed into rubber boots all day long.

I watched US tie with England in soccer, and then a ripped movie with horrible dubbing, added sound effects, and random English sentence. Came home to find the family sticking in planet earth, so watched another movie. Amparo keeping a helpful monologue going by misnaming animals.

In the evening was a small going away party for Alex (volunteer from England) which I was invited to. A fun evening with music, dance and food. Unfortunately I dug heartily into a dish before realizing it was comprised mostly of noodles. My stomach has been punishing me ever since.

And there was still more to come...

I can now truthfully say I've been to a cockfight. Not my scene. In fact, it was terrifying. Who came up with the idea of pitting rooster against each other in a fight to the death? And it is a serious pastime here...I only stayed for one and a half fights, but I know one of the roosters had a bet of no less than $300.

To enter the barn, men pay an entrance fee of $3. Women enter free. Then it's down into the arena, the smell of frying chicken in the air, and crates of beer stacked high. The first fight I witnessed neither rooster was killed, for which I am thankful. I was doing almost ok until I saw a dead rooster casually draped on a seat, blood dripping. Ignoring the taunting of my family (“tienes miedo?”) I left to go to bed. More than anything I didn't want the image of all these people I live with shouting in primal bloodlust mode fixed in my mind. It seems I have a brand new experience every single day.

Today, Sunday, I went to Pacto with Nathan (volunteer from CA). Pacto is a neighboring village about 45 minutes away in bus. There is actually internet there, albeit kind of expensive, and a river. Most of the day was spent waiting for some people we thought were going to show up, but who apparently changed their minds due to the ample presence of Policias on the look out for unregistered motorcycles, which is mostly what everyone drives here. Most of life is like that here...you never know what's going to end up happening. It is very hard to get used to this lifestyle. Life is paced completely differently here. Everything is slower and yet that doesn't mean there are huge amounts of free time. That just means that everything takes longer. Everyone is very nonchalant about plans as well. If it happens – great! If not – oh well, maybe next time!

We did end up running into my favorite family from Las Tolas: Marianna, Renee and Sophia...they run the 'Artesania Ecologica.' We all went to the river together and I taught Sophia how to swim better than a frantic doggy paddle, as well as how to float on her back. It is so interesting to be living here. Most of the older generation do not now how to read or write, and apparently no one really knows how to swim.

My bug bites felt so much better after being immersed in cold water. I counted; I have 26 just on my upper body...who knows how many I have on my ankles!

It is amazing that already a fourth of my time here is gone. Ah the balancing act of my life: wishing away time and then wishing it back again. My goal in life being to strive for presence.

This afternoon I leave my host family and travel to Las Tolas, a small town near Nanegalita and Tulipe. I'll live in this village for one month, staying with a family and volunteering in the village. I'm not clear on exactly what I'll be doing, what to expect, and if their will be other volunteers, etc. It is supposed to be slightly warmer (and more humid) than Quito, which I am happy about. Hopefully on weekends I will be able to check email and update this blog.

I catch my bus out of Quito at 5:30pm.

Ciao!

This weekend past

5/24/10

So much has been happening. I think three days is the longest I've gone without internet in a long time. That is an interesting and slightly scary realization. To recap this weekend:

Viernes: I visited a vivarium and got to hold a gigantuan snake. I also found the panaderia (bakery) that my teacher told me sold all sorts of younameit-free (ex. gluten-free) bread. Not so much. However, there was pan de maiz, which I asked about and was told it was indeed sin trigo (w/out wheat). I don't think this was true. Or maybe it was just baked with other glutinous breads which seeped over. Anyway, tengo dolor de estomago.



Sabado: I went with my host family to Cayambe (north and a bit west by an hour of Quito) where they have a second house. (They said “our poor house,” but my standards just the fact that they have two houses says quite a bit about their financial situation...especially here.) On the way we stopped at “the real” mitad del mundo (middle of the world). A tall cylinder marks the spot, and for a few minutes twice a year the sun shines directly down, creating no shadow of the tube whatsoever.



Fun facts: Ecuador is the best place to determine the exact middle of the world because of the Andes mountains (mountains don't grow like trees in a forest do, hence easier determining). Also, Volcan Cayambe is the only place in the world were temperature and latitude reach 0 simultaneously. It's not only the highest point on the equator, but, according to some, also the farthest point from the center of the earth due to the equatorial bulge (Moon).
The family's “poor house” is a long and low one room building partitioned into three bedrooms, add one TV. Also a separate building for cooking and an “outhouse” with a flush toilet. They have potatoes, strawberries, cabbage, lettuce, and a bush that produces what looks like tomatillos, but which tastes slightly sweet. Animals include four dogs, ducks, chickens, turkeys, rabbits, and cuy (guinea pig: the specialty of Ecuador. I'm told it tastes like fatty pork, but I don't know if I can bring myself to verify this as I owned guinea pigs as a kid). When the family is not there on the weekend, a neighbor is payed to take care of animals and plants.
I basically spent saturday weeding a strawberry patch...a quite enjoyable task when the earth is so moist (nothing like the clay of WNC). My thighs are still tight.




Domingo: I visited the second, and allegedly incorrect, mitad del mundo with two students (Netherlands and Australia) from the language school.

the second and incorrect equatorial line

The highlight of this trip was outside of the mitad del mundo complex, at Museo de Sitio Inti-Nan, path of the sun in Kichwa.

The museum claims that the “real” equatorial line runs right through their museum and we performed several science experiments to prove it (although I'm not sure science would be the right word). We:
Balanced a raw egg on the head of a nail.
Tried to walk on the equatorial line with our eyes closed (supposedly it's harder to keep your balance directly on the equator as the pull of south and north are strong and opposite...although I think I would have a hard time walking on a straight line with my eyes closed anywhere).
This one is hard to deny: first we stood off of the line and our guide tested our arm and finger strength. Then we stood on the line and were tested again. It was absolutely impossible to resist the second time. Now granted, he tested us on the line second when we were not completely fresh, but the difference was really remarkable.
Somebody PLEASE explain this one to me definitively. I read in Lonely Planet, and on the internet, that water swirling different ways down a drain depending upon which side of the equator you were on was false. BUT. Our guide had a basin full of water with a plug in the center and some leaves to show the flow of water. He put the basin first on the line and pulled the plug. The water flowed directly out of the basin with no swirl. Then to south: the water swirled clockwise. To the north: the water swirled counter-clockwise. I watched very carefully to see if he was influencing the water with the motion of his hand, but could not detect anything different about the three times he did it. WHAT HAPPENED?
A very interesting idea that both the museum guide, and the real mitad del mundo guide (whose lecture I spied upon) presented, was that our current maps and globes are ridiculous. The equator should not divide the northern hemisphere from the south, but rather should be a vertical line uniting both hemispheres. (Imagine a globe and turn it on its side, to the left.) Just like so many things which are stupid or wrong, but will probably never change (US measurements and the charge of electrons/protons just to name two).

How to shrink a head:

Lunes: I woke up late and depressed with nothing planned except to wander and finally check email. Not soon after I awoke however, there was knock on my door and I was told everyone was leaving in twenty minutes for the entire day and I should come too. (They don't have a key for me!)
Not knowing what to do or expect, I piled into their five person car with nine other people. It's honestly a miracle that anyone survives in Quito (pedestrian or in an automobile) considering their attitude regarding driving. I won't go into it now, but suffice it to say: terrifying.
Well, the outing turned out to be going to another piece of property this family owns (not just my host family, the entire family) that needed serious weeding (with axes) and which had upwards of 15 beautiful avocado trees. I had stupidly thrown on sandals. There were quite impressive spiders of all varieties.
Nothing gets done with any speed (especially when it involves moving from one place to the other...like getting in the car) so something that could have taken several hours took the whole day. It was very nice though.
I did not have Spanish class because it is a national holiday celebrating the battle of Pichincha. Not being in Quito, all I missed were military parades. Because there´s no class on monday, that means an extra hour of class every day this week. Five hours a day! Aie!

Martes, hoy: Went to class as usual, couldn´t concentrate because I didn´t have enough breakfast. Got back to the house an hour later than usual to find another traveler is staying for about five days. She is from Alaska, doesn´t speak much spanish, and I believe she is 16 years old. I invited her to go to an open market with me, but I don´t think she is supposed to do anything without her teacher/supervisor/jailor. I also can´t find my ipod, which I´m really hoping doesn´t mean that somebody took it while I was out yesterday. Silly of me to bring it, but such a comfort as well.

Missing home.

processed meat in Supermaxi...terrifyingly mono-colored

From the Sudoku files

(on plane ATL->UIO, 5/13/10)

Rose encrusted canyons

fooled into believing

they're clouds

float effortless below.

(And yet above)

a glimmer of turquoise

and sapphire

they already fade to gray.

Missing those rays which

the sun imparts to me yet.

5/19/10

listening to: Maire Brennan, Misty Eyed Adventures; Debussy, Clair de lune; Jesse Cook, La Llorona; Michael Hedges, Aerial Boundaries;

Oh Quito, the city that has captured my imagination and daring. Cuidad viejo was visited today with new friends kind to invite a lonely traveler along. These adventuresome 5 ventured to new heights, climbing rickety ladders to the point of the Basilica. Regard the ants, aren't they industrious? Seen from below this center of worship appears beautiful and average. What do those ants know, they who have never left their mounds? A city stretches to endless unknowns, protected by a virgin semblance in statue form, gleaming in the setting day.

Friends from the school: Claire, Bekah, me, Mami

What would happen to us, far from land, if Pichincha was to decide to rumble? Crumbling flakes evidence aging, and it's not hard to imagine falling down among the workers. Deep breaths for vertigo, whether to assist or dampen it's hard to say. How many died in the realization of this work of art? Remember the ants – resilient, yet small and fragile. Determined.

¡que bueno!

5/16/10
20:30

Today was very good. I woke up late, went to the internet cafe, played house with Daysi, Alexandria, y la nina Amelia on the rooftop. Nolan, if you're reading this, I taught the girls that magic card trick that you taught me with great success (and Jason I finally have it right ;-)! They love it, but sometimes don't get it right because they don't understand that the order of the cards is imperative.

This evening Maria cooked dinner for eight Americans who came and toured the house. It was hilarious and flattering that they looked to me to translate for the girls (me the expert?) who tried showing them the card trick, but alas I think some cards got shuffled by mistake. I helped Maria and the girls serve dinner, and Maria kept thanking me every other sentence. Mealtimes are interesting around here. While Maria will give me things to do if I ask her (as opposed to in France), she is very verbally thankful and I think somewhat embarrassed (at least at first) that I am helping her. I hadn't eaten a meal with her until this evening when we ate in the kitchen after everyone had left. It's usually Nixon (el padre) and I...and sometimes one of the girls, usually at dasayuno (breakfast).

I 'helped' Alexandria with her math tonight, but I think she just wanted me there for company or moral support. She is working on geometry and graphing.

Tomorrow I start language class!!! I'm so excited. It's within walking distance from the house, so Maria is going to show me the way tomorrow morning. I think class starts at 8:00.

PS

I realized today with embarrassment that I told you a lie. Ecuador is within the same time zone as Asheville, there's just no need of silly daylight savings because Ecuador is just that: the equator! Thus the 'time difference'...which will align again when Asheville falls back in the fall. It's interesting to think about. That means every spring we are not on time so to speak.

5/17/10

14:05

My mind is reeling with new vocabulary and verb conjugation. It was so nice to get out on my own today. Oy, I am so shy though.

Sabado

5-15-10
19:05

I met two Americans today, one of whom is attending the same language school as I. They both speak much better Spanish, but that is to be expected, me of un poco castellano. Interesting language side-note: I thought that only Argentinians added a J to their double Ls, but from what I can tell so far, Ecuadorians (or at least those in Quito) do this as well. For example, amarillo (yellow) is pronounced amaryjho.

I can't say enough how much I like the family I'm staying with. I am grateful especially for the little things. Like when Marie casually picked a speck of lint off my shirt – something that no one did while I was in France. And it is very helpful that there isn't a great language barrier, as both parents speak English.

They are pretty well off I think. The father, Nixon, owns a gym that is on the first floor of the house. As such there is constant stream of American pop-music and a little Latin pop...which I like much better. Maybe because I don't understand the simplicity of their lyrics. Today I went with Nixon to run a few errands. We went somewhere very similar to Lowe's or Home Depot, which is frequented by the upper class. It was interesting to see that I had darker skin than half of the people in there, the only thing to give me away were my eyes. We also briefly went to El Bosque, the mall, which is built up the side of a mountain (Quito reminds me of San Francisco in ways, except even more mountainous. I love it!). In an electronics store, the price of a netbook was around $1000 – one that I think would run $300 in the US. Nixon said this is due to the newly elected president (as of two years ago) who has introduced insanely high taxes...something that I think is a new concept in Ecuador. Also, Nixon said the average monthly income (I think in Quito) is approx $200-$250. Later he said the house he rents is $400/mo., thus my deduction of well off. Although I don't know if this means just the living space and the gym of the family I'm staying with, or the entire building which is inhabited by three generations and three separate families.

Now we are off to a birthday party (the second one today!) where wearing pink is a requirement. I am in one of Alexandria's shirts that says Vitamin D under the picture of a cow.

I can't help myself: 67 days to go.

21:00

Well Ecuadorians are famous for fashionably late, says the guidebook, and it does not lie. (Never be on time, it says, unless for a business meeting. Arrive at least a half hour late. If you don't your host will not even be dressed yet, which is never considered good manners anywhere.) Anyway, no party to report on yet, but it's nice to just chill.

My favorite chilling pastime is people watching. My bedroom overlooks a bustling street complete with food vendors, a giant inflatable slide, and of course the people. I sit in a chair close to the window and peak my head over just far enough to see most of what is down there (for fear of being spotted – la gringa). I don't know if it's just the weekend, but to all appearances there's a party here every night, all night. Too bad I'm too nervous to go out at night and check it out for myself (at least alone, which rationally I know is a good reaction).

The people line up for food starting around 5pm and ending...past my bedtime :-). I have been so tired this past couple of days, which for me means a LOT of sleep is needed. Let's just say 10 hours plus naps is optimal for this amiga right now. There are usually several (feral?) dogs roaming around, begging for food scraps.

One thing I forgot to write yesterday: flying into Quito at night ranks as one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life thus far. Nothing like flying into industrial Frankfurt, Quito was a softly orange-lit mosaic of neatly spaced street-lanterns and house lights. Not bright and pompous like a lot of cities...just a blanket of orange pinpricks draped elegantly over the rolling sea of both steep and gentle mountains. The storm we had just passed through definitely helped add to the general ambiance.

5-16-10

3:17

What was I saying about early to bed? Que? Yeah right! We just got back from the birthday party/crazy dance party. 3 o'clock in the morning. And even the grandmother was there til the end. The young and the old, bumpin' and grindin' in the courtyard that was the dance floor. And the sound system was complete with DJ and turntables. Ecuadorians know how to party. Nothing like this would have EVER happened at any of my highschool parties, or even now for that matter. Wow, maybe more later when I can think straight.

Hola de Ecuador

5/14/10
I awoke to a symphony of horns at around 7am this morning. My heart started to race, I think with excitement, when I realized I was in Quito, Ecuador, South America!!! I absolutely love my host family. They smile a lot, are very kind, and both parents speak english quite well. I met one of the daughters, Daysi, last night at the airport (whom I would guess to be around 12 years old) and there is an older daughter who had already left for school by the time I roused myself.
I have my own room, and supposedly own bathroom (which I find odd?). I haven't been out of the house yet (except for the rooftop where laundry is hung!), but Maria says she has to go out later today and I will go with her.
I thought that Quito was in the same time zone as Asheville, but I realized on the flight over that Quito is actually one hour earlier than Asheville. The flight was super short – only 4.5 hours – and only a little bumpy. Just as we were starting to fly over South America, a beautiful light show lit up the sky to the north-east for some time. And I had the entire row of seats to myself!! Three seats I was able to take advantage of and fall asleep for a little while. I think the rest of the plane was full of larger groups of rather silly late teen girls who were saying things like ¨they (Ecuadorians I presume) wear that, like, bulky kind of jewelry right?" or "my mom told me to buy all my jewelry and wear it on the plane home so I don´t have to declare anything" (oh that´s a wonderful way to get robbed my dear). That or gorgeous Ecuadorians with soulful eyes.

12:45
Being immersed in Spanish makes me realize and greatly appreciate just how much French I really did know. Simple things like “can I help you” and “I'm finished” readily come to mind...in French. Which doesn't help me here. I also keep saying oui instead of si and mais instead of pero. Or combining languages like “mais pero” or “oui pero.” I can't wait to start Spanish lessons.
Something that seems strange to me is how much more comfortable I am here saying things in English then I was saying something in English whilst in France. Maybe because I am more obviously a foreigner here than I was in France (being Caucasian and all) I don't feel like I need to pretend to fit in.
How am I going to live here for two months?

22:26
1 day down, 68 to go.
My family are catholics turned christian and every friday night lead a circle of friends in prayer and worship. I was invited. Very music oriented and passionate.
I met the older daughter, Alexandria, tonight. Both girls are so sweet. Walking home from the eglisia, Daysi took my arm and held my hand the whole way back. Granted, they are obviously worried about my safety as a foreigner, especially at night. Marie took my arm on the way to the church, and said “because you are my daughter.” I took this to mean she wants others to know I am with Ecuadorians?
Buenas noches.

My room

The family presented me with two roses upon my arrival in Quito
Daysi stuck glow in the dark stars on my ceiling
Drying laundry
View from the rooftop

Ecuador

As some of you may know, I am going to Ecuador this thursday. I'm running around like chicken with her head cut off, trying to get everything in order. And trying not to freak out. I decided to opt out of immunizations (besides a tetanus that was way out of date). If you are shaking your head, instead of a diatribe all I will say now is this: I went to Ecuador with my Aunt when I was 11. She got all the shots, I took herbal and homeopathic supplements, and vitamins. She got sick, I did not. 'nough said.

WANTED: your mailing address!!!

I'll be updating this post while I'm there, although who knows how frequently. Definitely for the first several weeks, as I'll be in Quito (the capitol of Ecuador).

hasta luego amigos.

Wow, almost a full year has passed and I didn't even write down the grande finale. Everything has become sweetly faded; blurred by time. Yet I will relate to you if not my feelings, then the facts of time and place. After the fact is nothing like getting my experiences served fresh, but I will do my best.

Or better yet, here are some diary excerpts:

le seize Juillet, 2009. 23:20

Why is the word hostel so close to hostile? Etymology is fascinating to me. The room is gorgeous with high ceilings and a small balcony. There are two bunks with four women to sleep in them. There is a very nice Grecian woman who is a French professor, an Asian girl who asked if I had a hairdryer, and another woman who just came in noisily with another man and women, went out on the balcony, and just as noisily left. We'll see how much sleep I'll get, as no one is in bed yet and only the Grecian woman is in the room. But I'm so tired I don't think it will be a problem.
It was so hard to leave Estella in Francois' apartment -- I didn't get to the hostel until about 8pm. It was almost unbearably hot in the subways even at that time of the day. And it hailed tonight! I was walking home (to the hostel that is) from a late dinner @ a slightly American place :-( , when lightning lit the sky and it started raining lightly. I decided to keep wandering because it felt so good to be utterly and completely free. Then a wind blew up and the storm literally blew in; gusting forcefully down the wide corridor of the main avenue. It was amazing. One second drizzling, next hailing the size of gumballs and rain the size of m&ms.
I was next to a McDo and promptly took cover. It was all very exciting I must say. It really hit me today that no one knows where I am. That is frightening, thrilling and daunting all at once. Thrilling especially because I have this chance now, and yet I know it's temporary.
Estella leaves for Greece at 2:30am tomorrow morning. I'm so glad I was able to share this London/Paris experience with her. I feel quite amazed that something like that is possible to coordinate, and especially blessed that it is possible for me.

Alors, bonne nuit. A demain. Je crios je vais au Louvre!


le dix-sept Juillet, 2009. 20:36

My last night in Paris and I'm celebrating. I ordered my first glass of wine tonight (the first that I ordered with just myself as company). It's sitting in front of me currently untouched. I haven't eaten in awhile (since lunch, but I'm really hungry) and I know it's best to wait for my salad. I tried to find a boulangerie that a website said was san-gluten, but alas I walked several miles through a sketchy part of town for naught. The building wasn't even there. It was worth a try.
Oh wow. The wine is good. A beautiful rose that hits all the right places on your tongue. It is sweet and dry.
Earlier today I was in an Indian shop when a man asked me if I liked the hat he was trying tipped up or down (it was one of those pinstriped pimp-hats). I said down and then he made a joke about Michael Jackson. He said I wasn't French. I agreed and told him I was American (always not a good idea, but I forgot). He told me I spoke French well, so I thanked him and made to leave. He stopped me and offered me his phone number, saying he was a DJ (riiiight). He asked me if I was alone. (Yes, I can just see you shaking your head, but wait there's more!) Thankfully I had the presence of mind to lie and I said I was avec mes amis. I also said I leave Paris tomorrow. He started talking again, but I was already out the door. Then he did what I was afraid of and followed me out of the shop. I walked quickly and he yelled. I kept walking, but all he did was say 'salut mademoiselle.' I didn't look back.

What should I do tomorrow morning before I go to the train station?
schedule so far:
8:30am petit dejeuner, pack, McDo for internet to get name of supposedly delicious and cheap vegan place, buy last minute gifts?
12pm dejeuner
1:15 leave l'auberge, prend le metro
2:00 Gare de l'Est
2:24 train departs


le dix-huite Juillet, 2009. 13:30

I love train stations. And airports. And while there's always an accompanying sadness, for me it's always far overwhelmed by my excitement at going someplace new.
I'm on my way back to Strasbourg for 2 days before I go home, sweet home. As my stay in France comes to a close, I discover I have quite a few emotions. Happiness at all the experiences I've had and memories I've made. Sadness at having to leave. Excitment: completely and utterly excited about going home.
There are others which are less clear, but which add to the general explosive feeling I have.

It's odd being back in le Gare de Paris l'Est where I met the Cumberfords -- my first contact w/ friends/family in over 2 mos. -- just nine days ago. The fact that I am now traveling back by myself overlays a layer of sadness on my excitement.
I am feeling guilty and nervous about what I did and didn't get as gifts. I hope people like their presents. I'm glad I got lots of soap. I think that's one of the most authentic things I've gotten. It's hard to find 'authentic France' in Paris -- maybe impossible, depending upon your definition.


July 20th, 2009.

I can't begin to count how many times I've thought of this day in the past few months. When you look forward to something so much, you sometimes begin to project emotions or actions on to that day before it's even arrived. And now that the day is here, everything is confusing because obviously the truth of what happens isn't the same as previously imagined.
Even though I successfully made it to the Frankfurt airport and onto the right plane (a big feat as it turns out) and am even now flying over the Atlantic, I still can't quite believe I'm going home. As we get closer (there's still about 6 hours of flight left) I think my excitement will definitely build, but right now it's as if I'm in a daze -- I'm having trouble keeping thoughts in my mind for an extended amount of time. I am tired though, and have had a lot of strong experiences and emotions in the past week.

A side note about my journey to the airport, which for some reason I neglected to write about at the time:
I had the bright idea that I would take le train, as it was cheaper, even though Jean-Luc (the dad) was taking the bus to the same airport, same day, same time. I was assured it would be no problem to navigate. So Jean-Luc takes me to the Strasbourg train station so I can catch a train to my train. Which ends up being a train to a train to my train. Thank god mostly all Germans speak English very well.
I am safely and securely seated in my train that is supposed to take me directly to the airport. After about a half hour of playing sudoku (my best friend on this trip), the ticket taker comes down the aisle checking seats, etc., and tries to inform me (I say tries b/c I don't understand German in the slightest) that because I did not SPECIFICALLY choose a seat number (which I thought I had, but apparently I was just 'general') they had booked the seat I was in, and all other seats were taken, so I was going to have to sit in the aisle with my stuff (way too much stuff btw). All said and done, this ended up being not so bad.
Eventually we arrive. There is no airport. FUCK! I have to admit I was about to flip my shit. I ask for the airport and the guy points generally towards the ground. Really? Well I have to take the subway through Frankfurt to get to the airport, but I don't have enough coins for a ticket and my the machine won't take my card, and there are lots of buttons all in German. An extremely nice lady helped me choose the correct ticket and exchanged me coins for my cash (thank you dear lord, euros are used in Germany too).
By now I'm sweating profusely (ok I'll tell you -- a duffel AND a backpack. UGH.) underneath German soil, waiting for the train and praying I'm waiting for the correct one going in the correct direction. I ask two people to make sure.
Finally on the subway, now what stop to I get off at? Thank you for requiring English in your schools Germany; don't mind me, the spoiled and silly American. I get off at.........the right place!!! Going up the escalator I say Jean-Luc's concerned face peering down at me. It was like ascending to heaven.

Back to my diary.

It also feels strange not to have said goodbye to Jean-Baptiste (although he and Laetitia wrote an extremely touching letter), Florent, or Paul-Eric. Not strange for that family, but strange for me. I always have a hard time with goodbyes. I need to work on that, especially because I like going places so much. You have to leave somewhere to go somewhere.
I must admit, even though it was very nice not having a cell phone (I don't like answering the phone) it will be extremely nice to call people whenever I feel like it. Having to make Skype dates and dealing with internet issues was a bother.
I feel a deeper sadness then I expected at leaving the Servias and France. I hope it works out for me to return -- hopefully soon. Maybe this spring, or next fall (school in France?!)...who knows what will happen. Anything is possible :-)

later on the flight.
I'm getting extremely excited now!!! I can't sleep! I know I should, but my mind won't calm down. Still another four hours or so of flight left.
I love flying. I wish I could fly without the assistance of engines. I want to go hang-gliding. I also love airplanes because if you're lucky to be on one, it means you're going someplace new (it doesn't matter if you've been there before). I also love how time takes on a different meaning. When I flew to France a whole night passed by in the space of several hours. Now, on our way west, we're chasing the sun. Even though we will have been airborn for almost 10 hours, only about 3.5 hours in sun terms will have passed. I'm told that going west is less confusing for the body. Although it might be different for me b/c I had to get up at 4:30 am. Already that feels like a long time ago...my stay in France. It's hard to believe 2.5 mos. have passed. Strange indeed.
I wonder who will be at the airport.