A bubble orientation was, for sure. We had classes all day every day, commencing with Spanish classes at 7 in the morning, and eventually ending at the conclusion of our practice teaching at SECAP Sur in Quito at 8 in the evening. Besides the students we taught for the last two hours of the day, and the occasional lecturer, all of our interactions were with each other and more current volunteers. And besides our daily commutes to classes, all of that time was spent in the Mariscal, the gringoland of Quito.
I met all of the other 9 volunteers in my group at the Miami airport on our way to Quito, and I was not immediately put off by any of them as you sometimes dread when meeting a group of people you will be forced to interact with. In fact, it turns out I enjoy all of them, some of them greatly. Kat is probably my best friend from the group, we had similar vibes, mostly meaning sense of humor I suppose, and I think we both knew it right away. Had I known her biography before, and she mine, we probably would have taken more time to become so close. But despite the fact she is a former evangelical (although still religious now) from Houston, and I an agnostic, (close to opposite ends of a spectrum, extremes both of us have little familiarity with) we became fast friends. She is hilarious, full of crazy amounts of energy and humor, a sort of one woman show. But her attention getting tendencies are not of the self-absorbed nature, more of the pure entertainment type, and she is actually very intuitive and a great listener, meaning I have found someone I feel very comfortable talking about everything with– something I treasure because of its rarity. Chris struck me immediately as a good soul, someone who has no intention of hurting or taking advantage of another. This impression may have been influenced by his long dreadlocks, which archetypically imply peacefulness, but I have yet to be disappointed by that first impression. He is 26, a special education teacher, a guitar player, skinny, and therefore someone I am attracted to, of course. Matthew, 24, and I connected right away because we had both studied abroad in Nepal and because he is from Albuquerque, which I unrightfully feel I have a connection to since my grandparents lived there once and since I heard so much about it from a homicide case I worked on for the law firm. Turns out though that he knows nothing of Senor Murphy’s candy in New Mexico, and I know much more about the Albuquerque meth scene than this good old boy who went to Swarthmore does. Jared, 27, I liked because he is clearly a playful guy, because he had really hip thick-rimmed glasses and because he quickly admitted his deep love of his cat Ira, characteristics which do not necessarily jive with his 6 years in the Marines, 9 months of which were in Iraq. April, 26 like Chris, seemed serious at first, but was intriguing for that reason, and as her mother is from Guyaquil she had the most direct connection to the place we were all heading. Tina, 22 like me, just graduated from UC San Diego and had a sunny and fun personality to match the state she is from. Of Taiwanese descent, she is actually mostly interested in Latin America and was in Argentina for a year. Adam, 23, who I liked because he had the same name as my brother, also provided a more distant family connection as he was from Georgia – yet another place I feel is a part of me, despite the fact that I have only been within its boundaries twice, for about a week total. He is sincere and has a pretty smile, the way you think all good Southern boys should. And the fact that this is his first time outside of the States further adds to the sweetness I tend to correlate with South. Lisa is from Brooklyn and worked for NARAL pro-choice in DC before coming to Ecuador. These are characteristics I would usually associate with a fierce woman, but for as right as my stereotypes were for Adam, there were totally off-base for Lisa. Her severe timidity and barely audible voice, as well as her extensive allergies make her seem more fragile that one would expect for someone choosing to leave home for a year. I was shocked to discover she was 26, thinking she was much younger, and that she had studied in Spain for a year. She once told me she was in Ecuador to overcome her fear of public speaking, and I couldn’t help but be impressed while at the same time thinking that she was crazy, that perhaps community theater would have been a more practical choice. And lastly, Robert. I come to him last as he is the most extreme of our group, and definitely the most hilarious and eccentric. At 72 he is way above the average age, and in comparison to a typical North American, he has way above the average amount of experience with both Eastern Europe (where he lived and taught – in the Czech Republic and Albania – for the past 12 years) and with foreign prisons, having been arrested numerous times in his past life as a student (socialist?) radical. He is full of stories, mostly about AlBANia, as he says it, alfalfa and Nubian goats. He smokes a pipe, which is appropriately fitting for the slightly disheveled white haired and bearded man who makes clear he has duel citizenship with Canada whenever he is asked where he is from. He is also to thank for the group’s most favorite, and long-running joke, since he is incapable of remembering the correct name of our program, calling it WorldTech instead. When finally corrected, he admitted he had wondered why @worldtech.com had failed to return any of his emails.
In addition to having had the opportunity to meet these varied, vivacious and amusing people, orientation was useful for this person who clearly had spent more time thinking about the country than the job she would have there. I was grateful to receive loads of information about how to be a good teacher of English (surprise! simply knowing it is apparently not enough). It was one of those experiences that makes you feel you’ve been a place for a long time, and yet whose sudden end surprises you. There is a lot I will miss about that month in Quito, namely the friends I made, both with the other volunteers and the family I felt I became a part of. That and canalazo (delicious hot fruit and aguardiente drink).
