Family Matters

Sorry this post is a little belated, but I had to hit the ground running as soon as I got back, while sick.

No less than 7 days ago, I was on another continent, in the arms of my family and friends, and on cloud 9. I decided to go home and surprise my family so that I could welcome my beautiful new niece into the world on Friday, September 6th.

Before I spill all the juicy details of my awesome trip, I'll explain how and why I was able to come home when I previously thought it an impossibility.

Vacation time: When I joined the Peace Corps, I was aware that we would get vacation days, but only 2 per month and part of our job is to travel and see our host country, so I was under the impression that I would only really be able to use that vacation time to go home once during my service and my mom had promised me a flight home for Christmas. So when my sister announced she was pregnant before I left, I cried tears of joy and tears of preemptive regret knowing I would be in another country with less than dependable internet access. Then, I found out once I got here that we get 3 "personal days" per month, in which we are allowed to travel and see the country, visit other volunteers, and just take time for ourselves, on top of the allotted vacation days! Score! So the logisitics of vacation time was all squared away.

Money in the bank: On a Peace Corps volunteer's salary, it is absolutely impossible to buy airfare to another country. However, before leaving for service, I sold my car. The money from my little baby Yaris was sitting in my US bank account so that I can buy a car when I return to the states after my Peace Corps experience is finished. Young, silly, somewhat irresponsible Chelsea says "Savings shmavings! I can get a job when I get back to the States and then figure out the car situation. I don't have to worry about that until April 2015."

And all that really matters- Family: I was having a bad day at some point here (not the first, nor the last, I'm sure) and I realized that oftentimes, when I need cheering up, I think about little, seemingly insignificant memories with each of my family members. When I'm on the verge of tears, I picture my mom saying "aint no thing but a chicken wing!" and I picture my sister sticking out her belly and dancing when she was pregnant with Colton, and I think about the first time someone broke my heart and I had to move in with my dad as a result and I thought there wasn't anything more embarrassing than crying to my dad about a boy, but it turned out he was a really good listener and didn't judge me in the least. And the things I miss the most about home are Mom's wheezy laugh, Carly claiming whatever she is eating is the best thing she ever tasted!, watching TV with Dad and talking about places we've never been, and jumping on the bed with Colton.

So logistics, vacation time, money, and the long journey melt away and pale in comparison to the significance of being there for an important moment for my family as they have always been there for my most important moments.

During my short trip home...

I ate: donuts, chilaquiles, Cocoa Pebbles, frozen yogurt, cabernet, Thai pad see ew, Avery White Rascal, Los Panchos quesadilla, peanut butter cup pancake, bacon wrapped chicken taco, and so. many. cheeses.

I watched: a few episodes of the final season of The Office (but still not the finale!), Colton climb up and slide down his new bat cave bed (about 73 times), A Goofy Movie (4 times), the best reactions EVER to "Surprise! Chelsea!"

I drove: many glorious hours.

I received: the most awesome birthday care package from my Club 3770 crew, a Nook! from my bfff, and a surprise visit from his lovely momma, no weird looks from strangers (because I actually blended in)

I saw: a few amazing friends, my wonderful family, and America's finest city, San Diego!

I met: the most beautiful baby girl ever born.

I caught: a terrible cold.

So on the journey back to Ecuador, I had a miserable 11 hour layover in Atlanta and when I arrived I spent a couple days with Sonia and family so she could take care of my sickliness and then I had to head back to the training center for a week-long conference. I'm here now and today the Peace Corps doctor told me I have bronchitis. I could have guessed that because I haven't slept in 5 days due to my lungs trying to kill me. But you know what? Absolutely, totally, 100% worth it.

My Life as an Ecuadorian Farmer

1 de septiembre, 2013

A covered truck pulled up to my house at 7 in the morning and the driver told me to hop in the back. All it was missing were the words “caramelitos gratuitos!” painted on the side (free candy). It was my co-worker’s brother and his family. One of the English teachers at my school has parents who live out in the campo in a place called Rumikincha and he invited me to spend a Sunday playing Ecuadorian farmer with his family and it turned out to be one of my best days here. I rode a horse for the first time in my adult life. I milked a cow and then drank that cow’s milk seconds later, warm, frothy, fresh, and nasty. I used some chochos (beans) as a musical instrument. I put my feet in the most natural hot springs I’ve ever seen. I was fed a big lunch of tilapia and rice by an indigenous family and I shared with them some lemon bars I made (I don’t think they liked them). And I learned a few short phrases in Kichwa: Nyuca Chelsea mikani (My name is Chelsea) is all I can remember now. There were a few nieces and nephews along for the trip and of the 4 children, only 1 had ever seen a white person before. And yet, they welcomed us with open arms. 

Yet another happy day spent in gratitude of the kind spirit of Ecuadorian people.

P.S. guess what guys?! By the end of this week, I’ll have a niece!!!

SO scared

being superheroes at the hot springs

NEW EXPERIENCES

trying not to upchuck

Verano

When school let out in late July, I knew that I was in for a busy “summer vacation” and boy was I ever. So last updates included the end of my 2 week summer camp in town and training for the Embassy summer camp. Since then, so much has been done! (Passive voice because much of it was not my choice.) I’ll try to wrap up everything in a nice little package. It’s my life in a box.

The US Embassy summer camp was SUPER chevere- the campgrounds were absolutely beautiful, with a lake, huge trees, lots of open fields, in Valle de los Chillos (the middle of nowhere). This place also had a lot of uber-mosquitoes which ate me alive. My ankle swelled into a gigantic cankle and my hand was so puffy, I looked like Eddie Murphy in The Klumps. Don’t worry, everything went back down to normal size (Ecuafat). The camp was really fun and we did some activities that I’m definitely going to repeat in future English classes. Highlights: We got to hang out with a bunch of really cool Ecuadorians, scared the mierda out of the kids around the campfire, taught Baseball which all the kids hated, danced the Cha Cha Slide, and got a free CD and band tshirt from a cute Ecuaboy with a British accent. Also! Before the camp, we got to Quito a night early and watched the Ecuador vs. Spain soccer game in a bar in the party area of the capital, which was really fun and I definitely wanna go back.

Next was the Peace Corps conference, Reconnect, in which all the volunteers got back together to talk about our progress, share best practices, and work with our Ecuadorian National counterparts to hash out some projects for our communities. I had to do a 15 minute presentation in Spanish which made me want to puke but it went well. It was really nice being back with all the staff and volunteers and with my favorite host family of course.

And luckily, this conference fell right smack dab on my birthday! The night before my birthday, 2 of my favorite female volunteers bought me a brownie, stuck a candle in it, and sang me Happy Birthday in the middle of a mall in Ecuador. Sonia made me a huge, delicious breakfast and even went to the mall 30 minutes away to make sure I had a chocolate donut on my big day. That night she made me a delicious seafood rice concoction and Javier made me a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. They gave me hugs and sangria and made me feel so special and loved. They invited over a couple of my volunteer friends and my sitemate Todd got me a cool coffee cup that says “Keep Calm and Make a Difference” and my fellow fattyclub member, Jazzy, got me peanut butter, chocolate, and chocolate wafer cookies. Cloud 9. That night, the volunteers had a party at one of the host family houses and we played drinking games and danced and had a great time. Turning 27 was completely different than the previous 26 birthdays but it was definitely a good different and I am still in an awed state of gratitude for the wonderful life I lead.

That weekend after the conference, a group of volunteers and I headed to a city west of the capital called Mindo. It’s in the subtropical area between the mountains and the coast so it’s not too hot, not too cold, and a bit humid and SO PRETTY I’M GONNA DIE! Everything is covered in vegetation, flowers, butterflies, and rainbows. I’m not even kidding. Highlights of the trip: taking a cable car above a cloud forest to a hike with at least 5 waterfalls, jumping from a waterfall into a pool below, chocolate tour, Mexican food, first time ziplining on 10 cables above said cloud forest, and being eaten alive AGAIN by my kryptonite, mosquitoes. 

This week, the teachers are getting back into the swing of things and starting some lesson planning. We’re having an English area meeting on Thursday. My plan is to drink 7 cups of coffee before the meeting and be SUPER enthusiastic about the workshops I want to hold so that my energy will encourage them to agree and attend. We’ll see. Classes start back up next week and I’m actually kinda looking forward to getting back to the routine, daily grind, good work stuff. Ask me again in a few weeks and we’ll see how much my attitude has changed. Though, going back to school today reminded me how great my teachers are and how happy I am to work with them. Every bone in my body is grateful today.

I also bought a Shakira CD today and have been dancing around my room to it all day. Then I went for a run and listened to it while running, all the while resisting the urge to start a dance party at the park. If you feel like tapping your toes, (or your entire body) I recommend “Lo hecho esta hecho” featuring Pitbull. 

Until next time, keep dancin’ that gratitude dance, my friends.

Lessons Learned

In a recent (brief) moment of clarity, I wrote down these revelations and as I wrote, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for life and for this experience. I feel like I should be on some transcendent drug or lying on a plush, green, velvet couch spilling my guts to a trained professional, but no, sober as a saint and sane (for the most part). 

Things I have learned in 6 months (implicitly):

-What other people think about who you are rarely matters. Which is what gave me the gall to publish this list. What you think about yourself, on the other hand, is of immeasurable importance. To get to a point in life when you know exactly who you are, are capable of always doing the right thing, and you can feel proud of your decisions without seeking reassurance; this equates happiness, imho. I’m not there yet, but I feel like it’s within my grasp. Eventually, I’ll stop caring how many “likes” my status gets on fb. 

-Things do not make people happy. People make people happy. 

-Being a role model can be pretty cool. I’ve never had younger siblings, never had the chance to spend much time with younger cousins, and have never really worked with kids, so I’ve always been in the position of looking up to someone else (not because I´m short). Luckily, I had the best role model ever, my seester, whom I still emulate. So for the first time, I have younger girls (and boys) asking me questions and copying my mannerisms and playing with my hair, which can all be a lot of pressure (what if I didn’t have time to wash my hair that day?!) but is also a really good reason to try harder to be a better person, the kind of person you would want the kids to become. 

-I am inherently and exponentially more interesting in this country than I probably ever will be in the United States. Often times, that interest takes the form of blatant stares on the streets by people who think I might actually be from a different planet, and people who think I am certifiably insane for leaving my country, family, friends, and my life. But interest nonetheless. This is where the aforementioned confidence can come in handy. Some people think I’m a missionary because the word “peace” is in my title, as if peace and religion are mutually exclusive. Some men think I’m easy because all American women are and think I will be enamored by their hissing, whistling, or “hello baby”’s. Some people think I must not have morals because I don’t have a god. They think I am malnourished when I politely decline the rice and potatoes. They think I am a lesbian or just strange because I am 26 and unmarried. They think, they think, they think. But I know who I am. I am who I am. And apparently I am Popeye.

-I am capable of so much more than I ever imagined. You never know the strength you possess until the day you feel that you’re at your weakest, you go to bed, you get up the next day, and you do it all over again. You never know the extensive limits of your patience until they have been tested and stretched every day by the person with which you share a home. You would never have known your potential unless you had taken off the floaties and decided, it’s sink or swim time. You will never realize that your fears and presumptions are merely ideas constructed to keep you from experiencing everything there is.  You never feel your courage until you take the step off the cliff, find yourself falling, unsure of where you’ll land, and yet, you’re not worried. 

-Relying on others can be a good thing. No man, woman, or child is an island. That would be impossible. Unless they were extremely tall and fat and dense, or had the superhuman power to float forever without getting totally pruny. In other words, humans are humans, not land formations, and therefore, are inherently interdependent. I have recently discovered how much I hate asking for help. It has always bothered me when people ask for favors they can easily do themselves. For example, “while you’re up, can you grab me a drink?” My snarky internal response is usually “You have all 4 appendages and a brain (debatable). Get it yourself, ____ (insert rude word)” Unless I love the person, then I ask “would you like your ice crushed or cubed?” However, here, I’m constantly put into situations where I have to ask for help and I cringe every time. I started out like an infant, asking for help with even the most mundane tasks like how to send a letter, where to buy milk, how to properly eat a guinea pig’s head, etc. Now I’m slightly more independent, sometimes surviving 24 consecutive hours without asking for advice, but I’m also coming to terms with needing people. It’s not so bad. Usually.

-But learning to rely on yourself is the best. While I consider adult Chelsea to be fairly self-assured, I still have frequent moments of insecurity and doubt, not unlike any human in their mid-20’s. At home, I had no qualms about calling my mom several times a day to ask any variety of life’s plaguing questions: “how do you know when a pineapple is ripe?” “how often do you have to get your oil changed?” “what the heck is an exemption and how many am I supposed to claim on this tax form?” “do these pants make my butt look big(ger)?” etc. However, here, I don’t have the option/luxury of calling Momma when I’m not sure. I just have to figure it out. And while that can be frustrating and even terrifying at times, I can almost feel my skin getting a little tougher every time I handle something on my own. At this rate, I’m gonna have a leather coating by the time I leave here.

If you made it through this list of corny cheesefest lessons, thank you for reading, and thank you for caring. 

If you fell asleep, lost interest, or you’re just more of a picturebook kinda person, I completely understand. Here’s the “before and after” version of me.

 

Before: Carefree California

After: Exciting, Exhausting Ecuador. Yeah, that´s my Peace Corps hair.

and then I found this. Thanks, Tony.

Stick a Fork in Us

We´re done. I survived 2 weeks of summer camp. I’d like to thank my thunder buddy, Todd and Jack Daniels. (just kidding about the second part) But really, Todd, I know you’re reading this because you totally stalk my blog, I seriously appreciate everything you did for the camp, especially because it wasn’t even in your site and you could have been at home enjoying your vacation. Even though I wanted to murder you every day before 10:00am because of your incessant energy, it was that energy and enthusiasm that made the camp fun. 

Since the last post, the kids received a Citizens Education class from the local police, we organized a big scavenger hunt (took about 4 hours of planning for a 30 minute game), and we had a few sessions of intercultural exchange. Today we had a small clausura to end the camp and since the camp was Olympic Games theme, we awarded the winning team with medals and the rest of the kids got certificates. The kids sang some songs they learned in music class and then we took tons of photos together. The kids made us beautiful cards, mine says “Thank you to be a good teacher and to make that these vacations are very amusing.” As we were leaving, 2 girls were crying and they all gave us hugs and said thank you and really meant it. Today made all the stress and planning completely worth it. I’m really going to miss them.

I´m Ron Burgandy?

Here are a few photos of my summer camp life.

omg HUGS!

our little devils.

I´m not crying... I was just cutting onions.

And this is us after the camp is over! JK that´s lunch.

this is us. poor Peace Corps volunteers.