If I have one strategy about living in Ecuador,
it is to accept all invitations I receive (that is, with the exception of the
invitations offered to me from men on the street between their wet smootching
noises and hisses). But in terms of my
host family, students and co-workers, I am convinced that whatever they want me
to do with them and their families is worth doing.
Had
Jorge known this strategy of mine he would not have needed to be so polite when
he asked me to do what he called a favor.
He and I share an office space at my school, and one morning after his
computer class, he asked me if I would be willing to be the madrina of the sports
teams for our school. Had his
explanation been in English, it still would not have given me a good idea of
what in the world that entailed. Having
gotten used to the lack of details in the explanation of plans in Ecuador,
I was ready to accept the invitation despite my lack of comprehension. So when he mentioned that I got to wear a
banner (a la beauty queens), there was not even a hint of a doubt in my mind
that the following Friday I was definitely going to be the madrina.
Through
conversations with other coworkers I was able to gather that there is a yearly
sports competition between various government institutions. SECAP, funded by the government as it is,
participates in this competition every year, and our men – like the other teams
– always arrive in matching full body track suits, ready to compete. The teams also arrive with one woman, dressed
to the nines, who does the honor of leading the team in the opening ceremony.
I,
like you may be, was imagining something grand, a legit ceremony followed by a
full day of soccer, basketball, Ecua-volley, and maybe even some track and
field. The number of times I was
approached and re-approached by coworkers about the color of my dress (in order
to best match the lettering of the banner) further strengthened this notion of
mine. So I got a manicure, bought new
stockings and new shoes, shaved my legs, and wore the most expensive dress I
have ever bought (which thankfully now had a reason for having been brought to Ecuador).
The day of the
competition I was severely overdressed for my morning class, but confident that
I would make an appropriate madrina for the rest of the day. When I saw the team, a hodgepodge of men but
all wearing remarkably suave navy and orange track suits, complete with the
SECAP logo, I was ready to represent, albeit a bit nervous about my
responsibilities. Through my broken
Spanish conversations I had heard mention of a separate ceremony for just the
madrinas (where purportedly one “wins” – based on what I had no idea), and for
some reason I was convinced I was going to have to sing the Ecuadorian national
anthem – something I was utterly incapable of doing.
Perhaps
luckily, but somewhat sadly, I never got to find out if I could have won, or
could have faked my way through the anthem, for in typical Ecua fashion, we
SECAPers arrived at the competition an hour late. The other teams were already lined up in the
gymnasium – madrinas in front, gracefully holding their bouquets – when we arrived. So we walked in late (me without flowers and
with only half our team in tow) – in time to hear the closing remarks. In the small and unimpressive gym, the few
people who were there to watch were busier talking on their cell phones or
chatting among themselves than listening to anything that was said. Hardly a grand ceremony.
It
was not long before the competitions started.
They began with a run, in which two of our about 20 person team
participated. Standing in the street to
cheer, it soon became clear that the big race required the runners to go around
the block, in my estimate, about four times.
SECAP did not win. We ventured
back onto the grounds of the school in which the competition was being held and
chatted for a while. My assumption that
we were waiting while a series of soccer or basketball games were set up was
proven wrong when the game of cuarenata
was announced as the next event. Far
from anything athletic, cuarenta is
actually the national card game. Again,
two of our 20 person team participated.
After
more than enough time watching men play a card game I do not understand, I was
ready for some real sports. But, perhaps
more to my liking in reality, we exited the small classroom where the cards we
being played and were immediately lined up to receive our huge lunch of hornado – a delicious dish of juicy
pork, mote (a type of corn), llapingachos (potato pancakes with cheese), rice
and potatoes. Still in my fancy dress
and new heels, we sat in the stands of the gym and I gorged on my favorite Ecua
dish. And then, the day was over.
I
do not know why the track suits were necessary – I generally do not think of
playing cards as an activity that requires attire suitable for sweating. I don’t know why the day was hyped as a day
of sports competition. I do not know why
we had such a large team and so little participation. And I don’t really know why my presence was
needed. But I know that the turning of
events – the lack of congruency between my idea of what the day would be and
what it was – was one of the most entertaining things I have experienced thus
far. And I know that I felt honored to
be asked to be the madrina, that I enjoyed spending the day with my
coworkers. And I know I still have a
very glittery banner to prove that I was in fact Señorita Deportes SECAP 2008.
