Things I Love

-when I walk by some students and they say in English “good morning, teacher!” … at 4:00pm

-when my host grandmother talks to the dog in the back of the house. To the 3 dogs that live in the house, she just calls them “bandidos” (rascals) and yells at them to get out of the kitchen. But with the dog in the back, when he barks, she asks “what is it, Bobby? Where did he go? That way? Okay, I’ll go check it out.” And then she does. Ecuadorian dog whisperer.

-rainbows. I’ve seen more here in 5 months than in my whole life combined.

-living in the mountains. At any point throughout the day, somewhere within my 360 degree view, there is a picturesque landscape.

-bonding. Getting together with other TEFL volunteers, starting a story about something that annoys me and them immediately understanding, having experienced exactly the same thing.

-fireworks. I have always loved fireworks. It’s such a simple thing to love but I think it’s beautiful and I love the idea that someone wanted to decorate the sky to celebrate. People use fireworks here for everything: festivals, birthday parties, weddings, baptisms, everything!

-taking off my watch at the end of the day. It’s a tangible way of telling myself to relax, that the worries of time will cease to be of importance until the sun rises again.

-hearing my students listen and sing along to original Papa Roach songs that I listened to in 9^th grade (12 years ago! Ew I’m old.)

-waking up to sunshine. In my adult life, the world generally makes me get up much earlier than I would prefer and though I was a morning person as a child, I am now just a gruñona (grump) before 10:00am or 2 cups of coffee. Most days here in Pujili, when I wake up it’s gray, bleak, or raining. On the days that the sun is shining, I picture the universe telling me “it’s okay. You can leave the safety and comfort of your bed, I’ll keep you warm today.”

-singing 1990’s American songs in the supermarket with my volunteer friend

-care packages from my mom. And peanut butter. Mmmm peanut butter. It’s $7 a jar here (way out of my budget) so I become a PB addict, checking the mail everyday, ripping the box open, and immediately dipping peanut butter M&M’s in peanut butter. I can feel the peanut butter coursing through my veins and I don’t even feel guilty about it.

-looking forward to stuff. This has always gotten me through difficult times and makes everything seem more worth it. Currently looking forward to: teacher’s trip to the beach possibly next week, Reconnect conference in August (I get to live with Sonia again for a week and see all the volunteers in my group), the birth of my niece in September! (even though I’ll be here, miserably worried all day, I can’t wait to see her face on skype and see the happiness of my sister and cuñado), Christmas is a distant dream, and visitors to Ecuador next year.

-birthdays. Mine is in exactly 2 months. I’ll be at Sonia’s so I’m sure I’ll be eating some delicious food!

-pinchos. I have an abusive love affair with these delish-kabobs. I don’t care how sick you make me, I will always come back to you.

-recognizing someone while walking down the street in the big city nearby. When they smile and wave, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. When they say hello and remember my name, it makes me feel like I belong here.

 

I will be adding to this post as the days and months and years go on, as I´m sure I will begin to love a thousand more things. Check back as I update this entry and my perspective.

Volcanoes, Ceviche, and Donuts! Oh My!

2 weekends ago, I climbed on the WORLD’S HIGHEST ACTIVE VOLCANO! Okay, so everyone and their madre has told me it’s the world’s highest and then when we got there, the guide said it’s the second highest because there’s a higher active volcano in China. So apparently he didn’t know what he was talking about, even though he’s a hired professional. So we’re just gonna keep saying WORLD’S HIGHEST ACTIVE VOLCANO because it sounds mo’ badass. It’s called Cotopaxi and it’s the biggest reason Ecuador gets so many tourists (well I don’t know which attracts more, the volcano or the Galapagos Islands. Ask a guide.) I had signed up a week in advance for this when the other volunteers invited me. They go to a gym in the city nearby and there was a group of 40 people going to the volcano. This sounded awesome for several reasons: 1. It’s so much easier to go places with Ecuadorians. You don’t get charged as much, it’s a lot safer, and it’s an opportunity to try and make friends. 2. It was super cheap- only $8 for direct transportation to and from, tons of hot chocolate, a sandwich, and a guide. 3. The other volunteers were going too so I could relax and speak a little English. Then the weekend arrives and I’m sick as a perro! But I said “to heck with it!” cause I’m a champ. And it sucked. My nose was a faucet and my chest felt like it was going to explode. I didn’t really know what the hike consisted of, I pretty much signed up blindly due to reasons 1-3 listed above. It ended up being tough because it was SO cold and the wind was blowing so hard, it almost knocked me clear off the WORLD’S HIGHEST ACTIVE VOLCANO. But I survived and the hot chocolate was delicious.

Last weekend I went to visit my old host family, Sonia, Javier and Ayllin and it was SO much fun! It was kind of hard coming home, what with Sonia begging me to stay the night and feeding me tons of delicious ceviche. She has a new volunteer so although I would have loved to stay and eat her delicious scrambled eggs in the morning, I didn’t want to impose on the new girl. So we went to the new mall about 15 minutes from her house on the way to Quito and guess what the heck the mall had?! DUNKIN DONUTS! That’s right, my friends, best food on the planet, which cannot be found in my town! It was heaven with a hole! (that’s what… nevermind.) Then Sunday, I chillaxed and we had fish for lunch! Awesome! Then I had a meeting at 4:00pm. I had agreed to help my host mom and her other English teacher friends study for the huge English test that everyone is worried about. We were supposed to meet for 1 hour and practice English, especially pronunciation. This turned into 3 hours! But I felt really good about it at the end. The teachers were really grateful and they’re coming back next Sunday (with food!).

On Monday, I played Barbies with a 7 year-old. It was awesome. Side note: Barbies here are also white, blonde, and blue-eyed. Back story: my host family always goes to the same grocery store so I go there now too (mind you “grocery store” here is about 4 aisles of food, but it’s the best selection in town and they’re the only place with low fat milk). The owners are super nice people and are really interested in their 2 daughters learning English. So my host mom and I had mentioned several times about my kids’ English class. The mother kept asking and insisting on private lessons for her youngest daughter. I felt terrible but I had to turn her down because I have had several requests for private lessons and I just don’t have time for each individual person, but I assured her that there are children who are the same age in my kids’ class. She ended up bringing her daughter, Fatima, to my class and the pobrecita just cried the whole time L So I ran into her mom in the grocery store again and she asked if maybe I would like to come over to their house and have lunch so that Fatima would trust me more and feel comfortable coming to class. So I showed up around 1:30 and guess what was for lunch?! CEVICHE! Score! I never get to eat seafood here and I had it 3 times in 3 days! After lunch, Fatima showed me ALL of her Barbies (she has about 45) and their houses (3) and cars (4) and we talked about how to match all of their clothes and which Disney princess was our favorite and why. By the end of the afternoon, she seemed really happy and she is the sweetest little girl! I’m hoping she starts coming to class.

Other than that, just chillin like a villain, gellin’ like a felon. Rumba’in and Taebo’in it up. Schoolin’ the youth of Ecuador. Trying to get organized for summer camp. Missing home on the daily. But I feel like I’ve been kicking ass lately. I hope you are as well.

p.s. WHOA! As I was writing this, EARTHQUAKE! Just a baby one. Don’t worry.

 

that ditch is from lava flow!

arguably the WORLD´S HIGHEST ACTIVE VOLCANO

                                                                                           

                                                                                       pretending to be happy. totally miserable.

Facebook and Philosophy

*Disclaimer: This post is not about the Peace Corps, Ecuador, or my grand adventure. It does not contain thrilling stories about teaching high school or gastro-intestinal problems. If you’re only here to hear about the poop, feel free to skip this one.

Sometimes when I see 25 facebook posts about the same stupid TV show that I can’t watch, and I’m in a bad mood, I think “oh, poor you, your favorite character was killed off?! Oh no! You have to wait one whole week in suspense to find out what happened to Robert! Big whoop. Get a life.” And other times, when I’m in a good mood, I think about how silly and wonderful it is when people can bond and relate to each other over fiction and how beautiful it can be when someone can forget their troubles and envelop themselves in another world using nothing but their imagination (and a flat screen and cable television). It’s like a new age (lazier) version of a book club. But it’s also a 21^st century example of the familiar nature of the human condition and it comforts me to think that in some ways, we’re really all the same.

A Few Reasons why I’m Frequently Wearing My Confused Face in this Country

Media- can mean sock or half. Are we talking about footwear or measurements?!

Pelado- can mean bald (as in no hair) or peeled (as in fruit) but is most commonly used in slang as a synonym for ‘enamorado’, which means someone you’re in love with. Who comes up with this stuff?!

Salado- salted (as in peanuts). Or, someone who has bad luck. This only makes sense to my strangely superstitious mind- this person must not have thrown the salt over their left shoulder when they spilled it.

Tirar- to throw out, but instead you should use ‘botar’, ‘echar’, or ‘arrojar’ because tirar is often used as slang for ‘to have sex’. 1. That doesn’t make sense. 2. Why are there 4 words for the same action? And then sometimes there is 1 Spanish word for 4 different things. Like chispa- which can mean spark, a little bit, sprinkle (for rain or in a tasty dessert), or wit.

If you say something is “del puta madre” it’s really cool! But if you mix up those words and say “tu madre es puta”, you will probably be served a knuckle sandwich before you can finish the sentence.

And to end this very helpful Ecuadorian Spanish lesson, I’d like to conclude with my new favorite word. Bellybutton= “Pupo”. Teeheehee. But be careful because “pupa” means cold sore.

Corpus Christi Fotos

Fireworks! And the Plaza on fire in the background.

 

Thursday parade- the Mayor and Queen of Pujili in the middle



The 'huacos' who cleansed my spirit. Creepy, huh?



The Vaca Loca who attacked me.

Dressed as a 'chola' with my Principal

Parading and stuff

Los Danzantes

My crazy hair

Then this happened.

Then I danced with a clown.

Then this happened.

'Los jardines' for the god of the Sun

'Los Castillos' to offer to the gods.

Guinea pigs for the gods.

Corpus Christi

Saturday June 1, 2013. Last week I was in the parade for La Noche Romantica (The Romantic Night) (when I looked like a leprechaun) which precedes our huge town festival, Corpus Christi. For La Noche Romantica, we dressed in indigenous garb and paraded through town to the park where we went from tent to tent as the Priostes (leaders of various organizations in town) gave gifts to the mayor. Then we listened to a bunch of traditional music and danced (yeah, that’s when I danced with the mayor on stage in front of the whole town). Que verguenza.

48 hours later… I sit down to eat lunch and my host grandmother serves me a bowl of soup first as usual. It has potatoes (surprise surprise) and broth and suddenly I find something that looks like an alien in my soup. So I eat the broth around it and leave the squiggly meat behind in the bowl. My host grandmother says “why didn’t you eat the meat?” to which I respond “but what is it?” and she says something to the effect of “oh you know, that stomach thing of a chicken. It’s good! Eat it. And I’m going to check to make sure you don’t throw it away when I’m not looking.” Sigh. It tasted like chicken.

Anyway, back to the party. So there were little festivities all week. We went to a big mass on Thursday night at the church, which had little kids dressed as angels dancing, and ended with a procession around town. Many people didn’t walk in the procession, including my host family, because it was POURING outside with thunder and lightning like I’ve never seen. Yes, it was raining a lot, but the reaction of the community was hilarious. When mass was over and everyone had to head home, they were freaking out! I saw a woman open up a patio umbrella and there were 6 people under it. Then my host mother and her friend started saying that we need to call a cab because “how could we possibly walk in this?!” (Our house is about 4 blocks from church.) We made it home somehow. That afternoon, my kids’ English class, my teachers’ workshop, and my rumba class all got canceled for the festival.

Friday, I was supposed to co-teach all day and somehow ended up helping with festival plans all day instead. The students made handpainted vases for us to hand out to people we know in the parade so we packed those up. And the teachers bought a bunch of flavored homemade alcohol (basically moonshine) that they bottled up to pass shots out during the parade as well. I had to rent my costume and buy ribbons and hairclips. Then I went to the government social work office to help make sandwiches for everyone in the parade. Then we went to the Visperas, (eve) which are the parties the night before the big party. There were 2 pre-parade parades. The first had little kids and primary schools; they played traditional Ecuadorian music and danced and there were tons of street vendors. I tried ‘chilenos’ which are little fried balls of dough with sugar, they tasted like donut holes, therefore, delicious. There were also ‘huacos’ which are imitation shamans (witch doctors) who cleanse your spirit by rubbing poison oak all over you and spitting ‘trago’ (alcohol) on you. My host mom asked the policeman next to her to stay close because “the ‘huacos’ are going to bother my gringa friend” and before she could even finish her sentence, the crazy clown-looking shamans put a lasso around my chair, forcing me to stand up and walk into the middle of the parade so they could ‘cleanse my spirit’ and then they asked for a dollar. I said, “I’m not paying for that!” Then, the next parade was the indigenous community, but it was very short and not very many people participated. During that parade, I was attacked by the ‘vacaloca’, pictures to come, but some drunk guys lassoed him.

After the parades, we went to the plaza and they had started the burning of the ‘chamisa’ which is a gigantic eucalyptus fire in the middle of the super crowded plaza! And they had a huge metal structure from which they shoot the fireworks. Again, I was ushered onto the stage to watch the scene up above with the mayor and it was beautiful and crazy. There were tons of people and food vendors and excitement. Then we went to the artisan fair in the stadium and I had a pincho (delish-kabob) and chocolate covered strawberries (holy yum!). 

Finally, the big party commenced! I got up early Saturday to go to my coordinator’s house so she could dress me for the parade. I had a big yellow skirt, white flowery shirt, colorful belt, bright red shawl, 2 necklaces, 2 bracelets, 10 hair ribbons, 8 hair clips, nylons, and black shoes. Corpus Christi is a festival based on the indigenous tradition of thanking God for ‘lascosechas’ (crops). The main character in the festival is the Danzante (dancer) who wears a huge, beautifully decorated hat. The parade started at about 9:00 and our school was the 5^th group to go through so we didn’t have to wait long. We danced and walked as the principal shouted “que viva Pujili!” to the crowd (long live Pujili) for about an hour. As we walked, people would run up from the crowd and pour alcohol in a glass and insist that we drink it (yes, everyone in the entire parade shares the same glasses). They must have given me 15 shots, but luckily, it’s a custom here for women to take the glass and say “a los labios no mas” (only to the lips) and not actually drink any. In addition to all the booze, 4 TV stations came up and interviewed me, each ending with me saying “que viva Pujili!”. One of them asked me to invite the world to Pujili… I think I’m small town famous. There were participants in the parade from all over South America and they were thousands of people watching! I’ve never seen so much action in my town! And so many gringos! There were actually tourists in Pujili- amazing!

After I was finished walking, I squirmed my way through the crowd to sit with my coordinator and the other volunteers to watch the rest of the parade. It ended up lasting a total of 8 hours! Longest parade I’ve ever seen. It was awesome! But man, los borrachos were out in full force. 

Todos chuman todo el dia. Everyone drinks all day. It’s a seriously crazy party. We hung out at the coordinator’s house for a little while and then I wanted to search for another pincho so we headed out to the plaza and it was pura locura pure craziness. So I headed home by about 6:30 and stayed home and stayed safe. What a day.

Sunday June 2, 2013. The party continues! We saw ANOTHER parade! And then went to check out the ‘castillos’ (translates to castles), which are big posts with different gifts at the top thanking the god of the sun for the crops. My host mom and the mayor explained that most of the indigenous people are now Catholic and believe in one God, but they continue this ritual as a tradition. My host mom also explained that after the parade, the indigenous people run to this plaza and climb up the posts and take all the things on top, but it gets really violent so we didn’t stay to watch. Then, we came home and ate chancho hornado (baked pig), they bought a whole leg for this weekend so we’ll been eating pig for every meal. 

Que viva Corpus Christi!