The Kirwan Twins Adventures We've finally graduated, so we're setting off for three months to backpack around India, Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand before entering the "real world."

In 2000 when Ecuadorian currency reached a record high inflation, the government abruptly converted to US dollars.  What did this mean for Ecuadorians?  Well, for example, a family-owned home worth 800,000 sucres was suddenly a mere 4,000 dollars (excuse my calculations for those who are better versed in this history).  Now that doesn't seem fair, does it?  Well the government told them to deal with it, so they did, by migrating.

Spain opened its borders, and the masses flooded in.  One of these brave, venturing souls was Ramiro.  And oh the tales!  Ramiro's experience in Spain is an endless fit of laughter.  His stories of struggle and labor are colored with comedic flair.  

Ecuadorians are respected for having the strongest work ethic among Latin Americans.  This became clear to Ramiro's Spanish employers when he was first hired in landscaping and garden construction.  His first week-long job was completed in a day.  His boss was astonished and calculated the profits such speedy service would deliver.  The next four days involved completing another month worth of work.  Not only did Ramiro earn more than anticipated (though still paying for the high price of living in Europe), but he also gained useful vocabulary.  "Oy, Ramiro, pasame un caja de chinos."

"Chinos?  Que son amigo?" asked Ramiro.

"Chinos, chinos.  Los piedritas.  Gravel."

"Gravel?  Porque las llaman chinos?"  Asked Ramiro, intrigued by this new word.

According to Ramiro's Spanish co-worker, chinos is an obvious word for gravel.  Chinos: an endless supply of identical stones.

As time passed, other work opportunities presented themselves to Ramiro.  During a short stint as a chef in a five-star hotel, Ramiro was offered to work in the hotel lavanderia on the weekends.  "Pues, cuanto me pagues por la hora?"

"10 euros per hour."

Weighing the value of this offer with a day of relaxation, Ramiro countered "15 euros."

His employer insisted "all you have to do is put the laundry in the washing machine, sit and wait for it to finish, and then put it in the dryer."

Ramiro made a second calculation and decided that it was worth 10 euros an hour to sit through a spin cycle.  His employer failed to mention that around 1,300 guests occupied the hotel each night.  On Saturday morning he promptly arrived at the lavanderia where he was met by a tropical climate.  Steam misted and seeped from the industrial washer as soiled garments, towels, and bed linens poured forth from chutes in all directions.  Struggling, Ramiro shoveled heaps of clothing into the washer, sweating in the fog, and then battled to pull twisted garments from the machine and heave them into the dryer as the next load descended ominously from above.  Ramiro returned home that evening, fully drenched and physically depleted.  That was his only day at the lavanderia.

Another brief opportunity presented itself at a local pizzeria.  Ramiro was expected to chop chorizo and ham for pizza toppings.  Easy peasy, no?  On his first day, Ramiro encountered a six-foot long, six-inch wide tube of meat patiently awaiting him.  Ramiro began to chop, and as the crowds coursed through the popular joint, fresh logs of meat continued to appear at his station.  He chopped and chopped and chopped, and pizza after pizza after pizza fled the brick oven into the mouths of hungry consumers.  Ramiro arrived home drenched, exhausted and saturated with the odor of spiced flesh.  That was his last day at the pizzeria.