Ecuador

21 de mayo

rkbarry — Sun, 23 May 2010 17:41:00 GMT

21 de mayo del 2010

Rosa just said, “Mi casa es tu casa.” Apparently that’s something Hispanics actually say and not just a phrase Americans made up! She’s leaving for the weekend and wanted to make sure I eat from her kitchen while she’s away.

Okie dokie… Today was emotional. Big surprise, right? It’s been very overcast for several days and has rained a lot. Usually I love the rain, but I have a feeling that the icky weather has added to the emotions today. My heart was broken as always at the market. There were some unfortunate miscommunications. Oh! And an old man tried robbing me on the trolley. I think it’s good to be honest about how things are going, but I want to get all the negative stuff out of the way first. I’ll start with the almost-theft, since that was what tipped me over the emotional edge today.

Two Spanish teachers, another volunteer, and I were returning from Quito Viejo, the colonial region of the city. Trollies are even more packed than buses and this one was especially packed due to the rain. We were packed in very tightly and an old man who was shorter than me got extra cozy with me. I got suspicious due to his proximity and looked down to see his hand in my bag. I wore my bag on front of me as is always advised on the trollies, but he had unzipped the front pocket and was moving his hand about. He didn’t get anything. I didn’t know what to do, so just followed my instinct. I yelled (in Spanish), “Sir! You’re stealing!” I’m pretty sure I conjugated the wrong verb, but I got my point across. He whipped his hand out of my bag, I zipped it back up, then the two of us just stood there still smooshed together for another couple of minutes. He turned his back to me and got off the very next stop. Talk about awkward. I had just screamed at him, we both acknowledged his attempted theft, and then we just stood there together. There was no place to move. I felt very violated as a woman, a foreigner, and a person. But that’s life. It happens.

Alright, now on to the rewarding parts of the day:

I met a new volunteer today who does not drink or club! Her name is Rachel, from Denver. I feel like a new student in elementary school seeking friends. But it’s true. She does the school program, not markets, but maybe we’ll see each other around the office and share in our “boringness.”

We went to a market way south of Quito called Guamani today. Recall that we visit a different market each day. The kids were ready and waiting when we arrived. They knew the exact place we would set up and had big smiles on their faces when we arrived. They must have known stickers were in order. We ended up with over 25 kids! Some were older today, which is both happy and sad. It’s happy that they enjoy the program so much as to come even when the majority of the kids are much younger than them, but sad because they should definitely be in school. There was a …let’s just say… rude man trying to sell ice cream to the kids. One tiny tot bought one somehow and walked around the rest of the time with chocolate hand prints. My left arm was almost as dark as the Ecuadorians by the end of the program. Cute kid. Another little girl was so attentive while caring for her younger brother. That was touching as well. The market today was the most primitive of them all, but so many children!

A few of us returned for our Spanish lessons in the afternoon. We went into Quito Viejo, as stated above. Apparently the locals call it La Ronda. My Spanish teacher first took me to La Iglesia de la Compania de Jesus, a big, beautiful church. One room was devoted to a life-size, painted statue of the deceased Jesus lying down on a wooden table. Very emotional to say the least. Other churches we saw were: the Basilica, Santo Domingo, and San Francisco. I was as close as I’ve ever been to the token statue of La Virgen Pasasilla on top of a huge hill, maybe mountain, that is visible from just about everywhere in Quito. Apparently, each region has a different saint depending on the miracles that occurred there. We saw all the protesting going about in front of congress, saw some native artifacts, and then went to the house of the president.

Everyone is allowed to enter; you just have to give them some important form of identification as collateral. Raphael Correo (excuse me if the spelling is off) is the first president to deny his right to live in the house. He wants to seem more personable and humble to the people. The propaganda is pretty blatant. Each family or pair of friends receives a free picture of themselves in the house that reads, “The palace of the president now is for everyone.” But I’m a sucker for free stuff, so it was cool : )

Later, I translated for a volunteer when she bought a phone at the mall. I was paranoid that the sales lady was taking advantage of this volunteer, who know zero Spanish, because it was right after the trolley incident. Basically, my heart had started to harden a little bit after several situations of unfair treatment or persecution, most of which I don’t want to go into.

I went to my usual internet center and cried like a baby in front of Jenni. She was wonderful as always and read to me out of Lamentations. I don’t like having a conversation in public, even though nobody understands English. But I really do not like crying in public. It was a blessing though, because the woman manning (ha, ironic verb) the desk saw and brought me some tissues and made some small talk. She asked where I was from and how long I had been in Quito. I answered and then just said, “It’s difficult.” She told me that if there was anything she could help with to let her know, AND she gave me a discount on the computer use. In other words, her compassion was a clear indication that, while you can’t trust everyone (i.e. most people) there are still good people who exist out there. I also got some talk time with Dad and Hansol, both of whom were also wonderful and supportive as always.

Dinner tonight was soup, rice, and something bright purple that had the texture of canned cranberry sauce. I’ll be honest: I didn’t like the purple stuff, probably just because the color freaked me out. I ate most of it thought and then said I was too full. You do not want to offend the cook. I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet the fruit I had for breakfast a couple days. It’s small, oval, and red. It has long, soft spikes all over it. After you peel back the skin you find a clear gel-like fruit with a crunchy, yellow seed in the middle. I don’t know the spelling, but it sounds like “achothichu.” It’s very exotic and always intrigues tourists when they see it in the markets. Cuy, guinea pig, is the big “cultural” meal here, but it’s pretty expensive. We’ll see if that’s in my future. When in Rome…, right?

As of this very second, I’m open to the idea of an early departure. It’s not the safest place for a young, female, American traveler. But I’m still alive and well. We’ll see where the physical and emotional highs and lows go from here.

20 de mayo

rkbarry — Fri, 21 May 2010 04:16:00 GMT

20 de mayo del 2010

This morning we took two long bus rides to reach a market area outside the city. There were about 15 kids who participated in the morning program. Once again, the most adorable kids I’ve ever seen in my life. Out of all the children I’ve seen this week, they had the hygiene part down pat the most. One little boy went as far as to wash his whole head, hair and all, out of the small bowl of water.

After play time and song time, Patti asked me to walk around with her to talk with the parents whose kids weren’t yet involved in the program. I think I’m officially on the “recruitment” team. I played with a little girl named Mabel first. She is 1 year and 8 months old and her parents both work in the market on Thursdays and Sundays. During the time with Mabel, I was able to witness firsthand the bargaining that goes down in the market scene. The venders often sell things to one another. A woman tried selling Mabel’s mother something for 50 cents, and she rebutted with 25 cents and so on and so on. I think they settled on 30 or 35 cents. Anyhow, the whole process was very interesting. Each woman was a little sassy, but that’s part of the bargaining strategy.

Next, I sat with Fernando who is 3 years and 8 months old. While being coached by his dad, Fernando colored pictures of a dog and a big moose head. His dad turned a bowl upside down as a table on which he could color. The thing that almost brought me to tears today was the parents. The love Mabel and Fernando’s parents had for them was so clear. Mabel’s mom and dad carefully instructed her on where to place each big puzzle piece as if her life depended on it. They laughed together. They had a family moment over this silly little toy (likely a rare sight for them) and it was beautiful. Fernando’s dad gave great attention to his son all the while continuing to sell vegetables. Little Fernando kept saying “Ya!” to indicate he thought he had finished coloring, but his dad wouldn’t let him stop until both sides of the coloring sheet were complete. He also made sure Fernando kept switching colors according to what was appropriate for each part. Basically, he was taking this opportunity to teach his son. I don’t really know how else to describe why this was such a beautiful sight, but I’m crying now as I write this, so just take my word for it.

Of course they are not the first parents to love their children and I’m sure that if I intentionally focused on observing parental care all the time, I would see the same thing the great majority of the time. But usually I just focus on playing with the kid. But the parents are part of the unit of care, in my opinion. While many of them do force their children to work in the markets, many of them (probably most) experience great guilt for giving their children the same life they probably had growing up. I could be way off, but I think this is the case. We all function under a “just blame the parents” mentality. Maybe we should be a little more understanding toward them as we serve their children.

After the always scariest part of the day- returning the children to their parents under the direction of the children themselves- Rebecca, Kat, and I headed back to the office. Kat is a new volunteer form England. As we were getting off the bus, two guys were fist-fighting, and the bus driver stopped directly in front of it. As they moved up the sidewalk punching one another, all the girls from the adjacent school ran back into the little campus screaming. Nobody wanted to get hit. We took the long way to the office. I’m glad we did. Rosa explained to me that this is a popular tactic for theft. The fight might have been real, but was more than likely a distraction for a partner in crime stealing something in the commotion.

I started Spanish lessons this afternoon. Susana is my instructor. She is super friendly! She began by interviewing me with general questions to gage my present level. Then she asked me to recite the Spanish alphabet, numbers, colors, names of common places visited, areas of the house, etc. She asked me how much I know about grammar and then had me conjugate 4 pages worth of verbs in the indicative: present, past, and future. Then she quizzed me on common phrases and gerunds, and parts of speech. Finally, she had me write complete sentences using as many parts of speech as possible. I showed off a little with the subjunctive : ) Finally, she stopped and said, “You already know everything.” I explained that I’ve had a lot of grammar training and can read and write a lot more easily than speak, because I don’t practice much back home. So we just talked the rest of the time. We talked politics, health care, education, trends in marriage and families (apparently divorce is just as bad in this country and teen pregnancy rates are worse), compared the USA and Ecuador- a little of everything. She explained the fear the people have under the present president (apparently the most attractive of all the presidents) of turning to communism. Tomorrow we are going on a little excursion to Quito Viejo, the colonial region. Immersion is the best practice. So for now, 3 hours of class down with 17 more to go.

During the afternoon, I met two other new volunteers. Guess from… Tampa! One of them goes to UF. Now that really IS a small world. I don’t think we’ll be hanging out in Gainesville though. The first thing he and his friend asked me about was the night life here. I told them he could go to any other volunteer for that information. They were nice though and I got to translate between them and the supervisor for some questions they had.

I ended the day as usual, returning home briefly and then finding an internet center for some quality Skype time. When I returned home, Rosa had prepared a feast for me. She brought out a delicious dish of rice, chicken, peas, carrots, and steamed potatoes. Then, she presented her vegetable soup. She also brought out popcorn (they like popcorn with their soup) and jello. I couldn’t finish everything, but she said she’s just give it to the dog. Keith and Michelle left for the Amazon and Rosa and I had a quality chat and then bonded over American television shows dubbed in Spanish: America’s Next Top Model and Fear Factor. Good times. Oh! I just had my first hot shower here. Not a necessity, but still a gift from God! I just pulled out the white “magic nap blanket” from home (just like Linus), so I think I’ll sleep peacefully tonight : )

19 de mayo

rkbarry — Thu, 20 May 2010 07:59:00 GMT

19 de mayo del 2010

This morning I met with Monica Salvatierra for my “orientation,” which is funny since I’ve already been here five days. This was the first time I had navigated the city by bus by myself, but since all the volunteers in the house have different projects and schedules, this is what is necessary. It was successful! I realize I’ve talked quite a bit about how cramped the buses are, but let me explain the system a little bit.

Everyone uses the bus system- everyone. It’s not like in the States where you have bus stops. There are no bus stops. You wave down the bus like a taxi. Then, usually while the bus is still slowly moving, you jump on and hang on to the hand rails or the bus attendant. When you see your landmark of where to get off, you get up and run to the front of the bus as the indication that you want to get off. Sometimes you’ll get a complete stop if there are lots of people who also want to get off at the same time. You give your 25 cents to the bus attendant as you jump off. Sometimes the bus experience can be fun because you feel like you’re swinging on a set of monkey bars when you first get on the bus, going from one over-head handle to the next. You could also think of it as surfing if there aren’t any open handles. Today I rode the bus 8 times, 4 by myself. So I feel a wee bit accomplished : )

We all headed out to do a market program. This time, the tent was set up on a concrete lot in a quiet park. The participants were the children of street venders. I was only there for the hygiene portion. Then, Danny sent Rebecca (Denmark), Eric (year-long traveler), and I with Patti on another project. Our mission was to research other market areas of the city to expand the program to reach more children. We were to observe the area, talk with the parents, play with the kids, and basically work on early recruitment. The bus ride to get there was very long and consumed a good portion of the time we had in the morning. But when we arrived, there were not many venders. It turns out that the bustling market time is on Sunday, the one day of the week UBECI usually does not work. But we spoke with the wife of the “market president” who said there are usually about 40 kids present on Sundays. So I’m not sure what UBECI has in mind for the future, but a schedule change would certainly be worth it. There is also a new market area under construction, simply called Mercado Quitumbre.

On the way back, Rebecca and I (we are now simply called “the Rebeccas” for ease) got to know one another. Rebecca is about 31 years old, but looks much younger. She has a 2-year-old daughter named Layla whom she misses terribly. She was very honest about never having intentions to marry the father of the baby and how this is very common in England, and even more common in Denmark. I asked her about this new trend after she shared that Layla’s father is expecting another child soon with his new girlfriend. She said usually only people who wish to be classic and romantic marry these days. Rebecca said that it would have been perfectly acceptable for her to have an abortion but she doesn’t have it in her to do that. She’s very much pro-life.

I’m on this trip to serve, but also very much to learn. This conversation with Rebecca was a reminder of how easy it is to judge someone by past actions, or even present actions. But you’ll never build a relationship if you refuse to see past your differences in life styles. We’re not called to judge, but to love. Rebecca and I made some mini travel plans for the weekend. Hopefully it will work out and we’ll get to know one another even better. The two others I mentioned possibly traveling with yesterday lost their passports, so....that’s a no.

I went home for lunch and got to see Erica on her break from work and Aisha when she returned home from school. Then, quickly off to the UBECI office again...another successful solo bus ride.

Patti took three volunteers and I to another region of the city to do more “recruitment.” The other three were all from Quebec, so spoke in French to one another most of the time. I approached Patti and said in Spanish, “I don’t understand them either.” She laughed and I think she felt a little less overtaken in her own country. We chit-chatted in the back of the bus in Spanish, not French : )

This was my favorite part of the day, but also the saddest. When we saw a child with his/her mother selling things on the street, we would stop and Patti first explained a little about UBECI. Then, one of us would stay behind with the child and mother to play and let them familiarize themselves with us, as the others moved on to find other children. I was first to get dropped off. I played with a little girl who was only a year- and- a-half old and a little boy named Esteban who was three-and-a-half years old. I talked a little bit with the (I think) grandmother of one of the children to assure her the good intentions of UBECI and the safety of the children during the program. It’s much different to talk to a family that knows little about the organization. Most of the mothers at the other markets welcome UBECI and are grateful for its benefits. But, as any well-suited mother would be, there is some initial skepticism at the other places.

We played with a play clock with a clown painted on it in lots of colors. Iget (another volunteer) played with two older girls who go to school and return to the street venders afterwards. They completed a puzzle (una rompecabeza, literally “break head”). Marie and Alex colored with a brother-sister pair. Their story broke my heart. The volunteers asked her if she would like to play for a half-day when UBECI comes. She said she couldn’t because she had to work so her mom and dad would not be poor. She probably wasn’t any more than 10 years old; her brother was even younger. They work alone while their mother and father work other jobs in the city. They live far away from this street vender area. She said she liked her work, but it’s sad. She has been robbed of her childhood.

Everyone received candy and stickers when they were done (including us). We told the families to expect us at the same time next week. I have Spanish lessons then, but hope to re-visit those with whom I started a relationship the following week.

Later, we visited a Christian soup kitchen that serves the street children. It was very encouraging to see other organizations looking at for the kids.

The early evening was spent on Skype. I was in a small, Internet station that was silent with the exception of me speaking to my family. Never before have I been the one to use an alternate language for a private conversation...until now ; ) Afterwards, I walked home to have dinner. Another hospitality note: Rosa never lets you eat alone. If another volunteer or family member is present at the table, that fine. But otherwise, she sits, talks, or just watches you as you eat even though she has already had her meal. I’ll be honest that this is something I sometimes have to get over back home- people watching you eat, even when you’re at home. But when Rosa does it, she is so “grandmotheresque.”

While the others went out to a club, Rosa and I sat to watch a colonial, primetime soap opera. Then, she pulled out the family album and showed me pictures all the way back from when she was 16 years old. She showed me her whole family, where she has lived and visited, her four children’s lives (baptisms, first communions, graduations), and finally her granddaughter.

Before I forget yet again, a shout-out to Jenni (Miss communication disorder specialist)on something I observed from even my first day here. Never have I appreciated the value of communication so much before. It’s never been an issue for me. But even the simplest thing, like a language can create barriers or bridges among people. Communication is the key to mutual human understanding, and therefore compassion. I can appreciate speech pathologists, translators, etc. so much more thanks to this trip. It doesn’t even have to be speaking. Gestures, eye contact, the touch of a hand are all forms of communication that transmit love and compassion. *Fun fact: I JUST received Jenni’s texts she tried sending about 5 hours ago (I can receive, just not respond). Awesome timing!*

Another thing I keep forgetting to mention are the dogs. There are dogs everywhere, all over the streets. All kinds of dogs: big, small, cute, ugly, etc. They rule the streets and are allowed to do so; not like they worship them or something though. Today I saw a medium-sized dog stop in literally the middle of the road to do his business. ( I’m assuming it was a “he”, because eww.) One car had to stop to wait for him to finish up to continue driving. I hear dogs barking or fighting most nights all throughout the night. Although right now it seems quiet.

Finally, because I can’t let dogs be the end of today’s entry, my morning and evening Bible readings have each been so appropriate to the trials and joys of each day. My journaling time has been more fulfilling as well. God is really pointing out the things I need for peace while here. He’s offering me greater understanding and a safe haven in Him always. With THAT, good night.

18 de mayo

rkbarry — Thu, 20 May 2010 07:37:00 GMT

19 de mayo del 2010

This morning, I went to a market for the first time. All the volunteers, 16 in total for the market program, met at the office and then took the bus to El Mercado de las Cuadras. First, we set up a large tent in a vacant parking lot next to the market. I was in a group of 8, led by Danny. Patti, the other market leader, took a similar-sized group to another region in the market. (The market was huge!) Danny walked through our region of the market to gather all the children. Most of them really look forward to UBECI (Union de los beneficios en la educacion y cooperacion internacional) coming each week. Since we go to a different market each day, these kids only get a break from working with their parents all day once during the week. For some of them, it was difficult to determine the age, because of malnourishment. But I'd say the majority were between the ages of 2 and 8.

In order to participate, each child must wash his/her hands and face in a couple bowls of water we provide, along with the soap and towel. Then it's play time while Danny finishes gathering all the children. This was my favorite part of the day! Part of the job is supposed to be teaching them English, but I think this is more appropriate for the school programs. These kids do not get to go to school because their families either can't afford it or they have to help their moms work in the market. It was heart-breaking to see how they have to live. They were dirty, hence teaching them hygiene, and some malnourished. Not necessarily undernourished, but malnourished. Their clothing varied depending on what their parents could afford. One little girl had on a thick sweater and hat with long pants, not because it was cold, but because this was what they had. She cried most of the time, likely because she was over-heated (and because she had soiled her pants). They were all so cute! This little girl probably would have fit into my pocket.

The first book I saw in the supplies provided by Danny was Green Eggs and Ham. As I recall, this was the first book I read by myself, so I was very excited. The kids didn't seem too interested when they saw it was in English, so I translated everything into Spanish. Due to the repetitive pattern of the book, the kids were saying the words along with me by the time we reached the end. Then, more kids showed up and chose poems for me to read. We practiced the names of colors, letters, and numbers in Spanish.

We ended up with about 20 kids and sat together, singing songs and doing educational activities. The main lesson of the morning was running away from strangers to your mom or UBECI. We completed a maze where you draw the path from the bad guy to Mama/UBECI at the end of the path. After we finished for the morning, we each took 3 kids to take them back to their mothers. The only difficulty here is that you don't know where they came from, so have to rely on these sometimes very young children to find where they belong. I was certainly lost, but by the grace of God, each child returned safely.

A few of us headed back to El Recreo (or Centro Comercial- the mall) for the break. I was supposed to start one-on-one Spanish lessons today, but that didn't work out, so I just found an Internet station and got to Skype (a big relief)! This is when the discussion occurred about deciding not to stay 2 months. One month completely suffices.

It rained-POURED. There was hail and the streets were all flooded because Quito is the basin in between two large mountain ranges to the East and West. We all got soaked, but then had boning time which was nice.

A little bit about the volunteers: several are them are from Quebec, so like to speak French to eachother all the time. Two girls actually discovered they live on the same street back home! They had never met before. It's a small world afterall. Rebecca (they all call me Becca now to differentiate, which is what I'm used to anyhow: ) is English but nows lives in Denmark. Daniel and Brittney are from Kansas City, Missouri and are the other two people who don't drink and party all the time. It's too bad they're only here another week and a half, because they would be great travel partners. Hugo is going into medical school at Cornell next year. Eric is on a crazy year-long journey all over Latin-America. He's originally from France. Liona is on a trip around the world for over a year- she just celebrated month 8. Kyle is the class clown. Ally is from New Jersey. Melissa goes to Penn State. Allison and Ellen are from Colorado. *This was really just an exercise for my memory. It makes people feel good when you remember their name and something about them the next time you see each other.*

I found it very difficult when I returned home at the end of the day to speak Spanish all of a sudden, the result of being with other Gringos all day. Michelle and I sat down for bean soup (something green), cucumbers, and a delicious grilled banana dish. Neither of us could finish, which offends the cook so we tried making her feel good by offering our greatest compliments and how we wanted to finish some more for breakfast if possible. Keith got home, so he and Michelle discussed all their travel plans in English while I asked to sit and watch TV with Rosa. I explained how I reallt enjoy conversing with her, Erica, and Aisha and how it was more difficult to speak after a day of much English. We striked up intermittent conversations and had some bonding time. I already explained my plans to leave in a month.

So that was today! I just got a shower, still not warm, but who cares. I'm clean, which is more than the kids are privileged to today. Tomorrow I take the voyage to the office by myself. Hopefully all will go well! I'm re-charged after talking to family and am excited to contine service tomorrow.

May 15-May18

rkbarry — Wed, 19 May 2010 05:05:00 GMT

16 de mayo del 2010

Entry 1:

Well I woke up for the first time this morning in Ecuador! My travels thus far have spanned all of about 15 hours, but there is already much to tell. I'd have to say the language immersion started in Miami, which turned out to be a great transition from no Spanish to ALL Spanish. It was a great decision on my mom's part to drive down to Miami and then take a direct flight. Since most of the people traveling on my plane to Quito were Ecuadorian, all the announcements were in Spanish, so I was pretty clueless over the static microphone when to get on the plane, but it all worked out. I sat next to a Peruvian man who had been vacationing in Miami. The flight was four hours, and we were silent for the first 2. But I re-learned something very valuable: food brings people together. As soon as the meal for the flight (chicken and rice, of course) was dispersed, my fellow passenger I and I began to muse about the difficulty in eating over such a small tray as we dropped half our rice. He didn't speak English, but we had a lovely conversation in his native tongue, which made me much more comfortable once we landed and I'd have to speak to everyone in Spanish all the time. I think at one point the flight attendant thought we were traveling together, because she, spotting my pale skin from a mile away, offered him some coffee or tea. He sharply retorted with, "No! Gracias!" (emphasis on the "gracias").

Monica Salvatierrra, the wife of the overall program coordinator pricked me up from the airport. She was front and center with her sign that read "UBECI." I did what everyone requested and asked to take a picture of her and the sign, as if my tourism weren't obvious enough already. Apparently I was the first to do that. She and Raul drove me to my host family's home. Boy does anything go while driving on the streets here! Everything was so beautiful- all you see is lights all over mountains EVERYWHERE! I learned a lot about hospitality from this ride, Monica kept repeating, "Que chevere que estas aqui, Rebeca, que chevere! Es bueno que estes aqui!" over and over again. She said it sincerely, as if she doesn't do this every single day of the week.

My host family has also shown fantastic hospitality. They live on a sharp hill to the south of the city of Quito and comprise a grandmother (Rosa), her daughter (Erica), and her granddaughter (Aisha). Aisha is 8 years old and cute as a button- she had on Hello Kitty pajamas when I arrived. I have my own room with a large bed. There are two other volunteers here for two more weeks, each with their own rooms. The house is connected to two others, but they don't use the term apartment, everyone uses "casa" for everything. It is very narrow but has 4 levels. You can tell the family takes a lot of pride in their home because it's clean and beautiful. Back to hospitality... When I told them I'd be there for over 2 months, Rosa said (in Spanish), "Good, you'll be another daughter by then." Rosa and Aisha walked me to a near-by calling station to notify my parents I had arrived safely.

Rosa is so spunky! I'm pretty sure she left at 4 AM to go to church. I wanted to go too, but wasn't sure if she said she leaves at 4 AM or implied there are four services. Either way, I think I'll let us bond over the next week before I ask to go again. Oh! Cool facts: the evening passage I read last night, was headed "The Mountain of the Lord" (how appropriate). And the morning passage I read today was about Peter denying Jesus, you know... before the rooster crows twice. This was especially appropriate since I was woken by the cries of a rooster at the crack of dawn, 6 AM.

Other fun fact: I can indeed take a shower without getting water in my mouth AND brush my teeth with the same success.

Entry 2:

It's the middle of the day and I have a little extra time, so I'd thought I'd use it to write again. (I know, I know, writing three times a day is excessive, BUT I just got here AND I start work tomorrow, so this is unusual free time). Humorously, I am waiting to go to church with everyone. The service is at 4 PM, not AM. So there very well might be 4 services, but they were referring to the time last night. in my defense, when I first asked about church, they said "Ay, It's so early!" (in Spanish, but I'm sure that's what they said). Anyhow, I am very excited about the Latin-American Catholic service this afternoon.

This morning was pleasant. Erica washed the laundry in a sink outside while Rosa prepared breakfast. We had grilled bananas and warm apples. Rosa could not understand why I don't drink coffee, so she made some hot milk instead. We had a wonderful conversation over breakfast and I gave them their host family gift and showed them pictures of school and my family and friends.

After breakfast, Erica asked me to help her daughter with her English class. Learning English in Ecuador is extremely important these days, so they now start the process early. She was concerned that even if she did know a word, she could not teach Aisha the correct pronunciation. Aisha and I had lots of fun. Later, she made up a game to teach me some Spanish words. Apparently, "peepee" is the same in Spanish as it is in English. "pe pe" really amused Aisha and she tried to trick me into saying it several times. Little did she know we use this term too!

Rosa and I snuck out to go to the "town." Even she was extremely concerned about the sun, so she brought an umbrella to cover us both. Even with the ton of sunscreen, the long sleeves, and the umbrella, I still got sun. All the children we saw along our walk had rosy cheeks. Nobody is safe from the sun here at the middle of the earth. The market was like nothing I'd ever seen. There aren't that many people along the way until you turn this one corner and then all of a sudden, the streets are crowded and the market is bustling with people shouting at you to buy their goods. Rosa maneuvered the market like a pro. We must have walked 2 miles just for a little chicken, but that was for lunch so was what you had to do. She had her wrapped her arm around my waist for most of the trip in a very grandmotherly protective manner.

After the market, we kept walking just a couple streets down and BAM! A mall. El Centro Comerical de Alegre (or something that sounds like alegre : ) This thing was massive, unlike anything I'd seen in the States. It doesn't look like it from the outside, but we walked and walked and walked. It just kept going. Rosa was very proud of the Megamax- similar to a Super Wal-Mart. Except here, you put your belongings in a little locker upon entering the store as part of security. I told Rosa I couldn't believe the market and the mall were so close. She understood that I was referring to the juxtaposition of the extreme poverty of the markets and the extreme wealth of the mall.

To return home, we took a bus for half of the trip. This was the only time I really felt like I was being stared at. Somehow there were enough seats for everyone but me, so I ended up standing with about 20 guys sitting right behind me (good thing I am not fluent enough to understand most of what they were saying). Finally, we slowly hiked up the mountain back home.

Aisha and I played some more and then we all sat down for lunch: a mixture of chicken, rice, carrots, tomatoes, and peas- delcicioso. Earlier in the day I had the casual yet awkward conversation about water with Rosa. The first thing they offered me when I arrived last night was water, and I'm going to be here 10 weeks so that could become a problem. I just told her I was told people sometimes are unable to drink water when they travel simply because their stomach s might not be accustomed to the natural differences. She insisted that she had had some volunteers drink her water and not have any problems. But she still said some, so I gladly accepted the pineapple juice and the joke she made to everyone about my stomach over lunch.

Something I've learned today about a second language is that it is OK, and even important to take risks... when you're with your host family. I know this sounds like I have some hilarious story coming about how I accidentally said something inappropriate to a stranger, but no. I can certainly imagine this happening though with some of the little mistakes I've made with my host family. They are extremely patient, and we are all learning from one another. Okay, time for church!

Entry 3:

Ok, so I learned some travel blogging etiquette today: do not declare what will happen. This is a good general rule for life. I'm having to backtrack every time I write because things always go differently than what you expect- not necessarily worse, just differently. I learned that in Ecuador, there is a HUGE difference between Catolico and Cristiano. I had felt the tension before when Rosa and Erica asked me my religion, but did not know it was because Rosa (the grandmother) is Catholic and Erica (Rosa's daughter) is Christian. This was very sad for me to hear, as it always is in the States, because I feel like either one group doesn't know who it is worshipping, or like nobody thinks they are worshipping the same God.

Anyhow, Erica took me to a Christian service. We took quite the journey by bus and foot to get there. After the first bus ride, Erica pointed out how much attention we were receiving because I'm so obviously American. Correction: not obviously American, just obviously very pale, which I guess is "exotic" here. I apologized, but I think she might have liked the attention too (she got all pretty for church : ) I had read in a guide book that women travelers need to be aware "el machismo is alive and well." It is indeed. I do not enjoy close proximity bus rides. But I LOVE trekking around with Rosa and Erica. I feel much safer with them, not comfortable, but safer. Walking around the "town" (sorry, not really sure what to call it yet) in itself is a great treat. There are so many colors and you are very nearly IN the clouds. The mountains are so green and there is nearly no humidity.

The service started at 4PM and we were extremely late, but the service still had not began. South Americans don't worry about the time something starts. It's better to focus on relationships than to agonize on a schedule. It was a small service, maybe 30 people. I brought my Nuevo Testamento, so I could follow along the passages being read in Spanish. Mateo, Capitulo 6, versiculos 8 a 15 (Matthew 6: 8-15, for example). There were two pastors, a man and a woman.

Alright, here's the funny story I previously lacked: After the woman had finished her sermon, she asked (in Spanish, of course) anyone visiting for the first time to raise their hand. Honestly, when I visit a church, I usually remain silent for this portion, because I am already committed to a church family (Shout-out to Wesley!). Unfortunately, in this case, it was kind of obvious. So I raised my hand along with one other woman (whew!). THEN, she asked that we come in front of everyone. This is a good point to remind you of my NON-fluency. She could have been saying anything with these two commands, but I just had to go with my gut feeling. Fortunately I was right this time. So I'm standing in front of the congregation and the pastor asks that the other woman and I repeat everything she says (OH MY GOSH). For a moment, I didn't know if I had just volunteered to officially join the church or if I was announcing to everyone that this was the first time I was accepting Christ into my heart as they do at camps and such. I wanted to say. I love the Lord...already. But then I thought even if this were the case, re-dedication never hurts. After we repeated everything the pastor said (which was very moving, by the way). She put her hand on each of us one at a time to pray over us. That was cool. She asked for a blessing over not only my heart, but also my family. It felt good to be at home with fellow members of the Body. I returned to my seat, and confirmed with Erica that I hadn't totally misunderstood everything. Whew! Close call. A woman approached us during the last few minutes of the service and to fill out an information card. She soon discovered my lack of fluency. Since I was so nervous at the time, I heard edad as ciudad (gave her my city when all she wanted to know was my age). Oh yeah, and the part when she asked me what I would like the church to pray about for me took about an hour (yes, hyperbole) to explain. I felt bad Erica and the kind woman had to have such patience with me, but was very grateful for their prayers nonetheless.

Erica and I slipped out rather quickly to get home before 6 PM. It gets dark here every night at 6 PM. Again , we are at the equator, so the times of daylight hardly alter all year long. I was so thankful to have this great bonding experience with Erica. On our long rides/walks, we talked about a lot: boys (yes, this is a shout-out to Hansol: ), family (an obvious shout-out), the Ecuadorian government, the school system, the health system, the differences between the USA and Ecuador. She even shared the tensions among bordering countries, especially Colombia. She was surprised when I explained the same tensions often exist in Florida between those from Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Mexico. Pride is universal. Erica is very interested in learning English, and more specifically the pronunciation. She would often say a word in English, then describe it in Spanish until I could tell what she was trying to say. Then I gave her the write pronunciation. By far the funniest one was when she said "fooxia." I thought she was trying to say "foxy." Nope. It was the color fuchsia Erica was getting at. We got there eventually. She is so patient. At one point, we walked along a big wall and over looked many, many houses along a giant mountain side as the sun was going down. Talk about breath-taking!

We got home right around 6 PM. Dinner was a while later: soup with potatoes, lima beans, cilantro, onion, and a few other vegetable ingredients. If you know me at all, you know I'm a sucker for soup, YUM! Then, I helped Rosa with a project for Aisha. We bonded over threading strips of paper to make a placemat. I also got to help Erica help Aisha with her language class (Spanish). Erica would bring a Spanish-English dictionary to me and point at a big Spanish word she didn't know and I would look at the English definition to translate the meaning in Spanish. Then, she's run downstairs to tell Aisha.

Michelle and Keith, the other volunteers staying here, returned from their weekend travels. Guess what guys... Keith is a Seminole! What a small world. He's from the Ft. Lauderdale area. Gators will be happy to hear I got to translate between Rosa and Keith. Anyhow, their hospitality was great too. I am suppose to have orientation tomorrow, but Michelle and Keith are going to Mitad del Mundo (the middle of the Earth, quite literally) tomorrow, so they made sure I was able to join them.

I must say it was very strange speaking in English to the other volunteers. Every now and then Spanish would slip in. The same is occurring as I write each entry.

I arrival of Keith and Michelle and the bonding experiences of the evening came at the perfect time. After the afternoon, I was feeling lonely. Not completely alone, because I know God's got my back. But I hadn't seen another American (correction: pale person like me) all day and nobody speaks English so I feel like a loser when there is a strain in communication. But, I also have to remember to be patient with myself, which will create a spirit of greater understanding and hospitality while working with others. I can't wait to work with the children of Quito. I need them more than they need me, but hope to at least show them they are loved.

The electricity went out a while ago and I've been using my net book for light, so I'm calling it a night to conserve battery.

Hasta luego!

18 de mayo del2010

I HIKED IN THE AND ABOVE THE CLOUDS TODAY! I’m going to start with that, because yesterday was pretty difficult. It’s about 3:30 AM now, and my body is recovering from much activity.

I drank the water. On purpose. The process of how this came about went as follows: I had a great day (most parts) traveling to the Middle of the World, where the Equator was first measured and one of the few places it is defined on land. (I’ll explain the fun of the trip after I get this over with. ) I purchases three bottles of water and wiped through all of them, but buying more water here is not easily accomplished when you’re traveling with four other people who want to go, go, go. I wanted to do the same, because by the end of the day, I just wanted to go home. It felt more like a journey to the CENTER of the earth. To get there, we took at least 5 buses, a trolley, and I think some other form of transportation (it’s hard to count). You can’t have personal space issues or claustrophobia on the buses, trolleys, or taxis for that matter. Everyone is pushing hard to get in and not fall off the side when the bus starts moving. You wear your backpack on the front to avoid theft and get cozy with about ten people around you. You push even harder to get off. It’s hot and your whole body vibrates even when you get off because of griping the shaking handles or rails. On long journeys (about an hour or more, you get to sit down comfortably on the bus, but hope that you don’t have a window seat because, remember you’re closer to the sun here than anywhere, and you feel it too.

We enjoyed a nice day at the complex where the 0’0’0’ latitude is marked. I joined two of the people I was traveling with on a guided hike to see where the equator actually is (they made a mistake, but built a huge monument before they discovered the real equator about 15 years ago). This was stupid of me-no other way of putting it. It’s my second full day here and I got all cocky on my first that the altitude didn’t seem to affect me since my acetylzolamide medication was working. Climbing upward even a few meters is very strenuous, even for the guide who grew up here. My heart was beating extremely quickly, as were my lungs pumping, to make up for the deficient oxygen at an elevation of 2 miles. But I survived and enjoyed most of this experience. (Come on, a hike in the Andes? How do you say “no” to that?)

The trip back was even more difficult: FUNNY STORY NOTICE- Two girls in the group saw a bus marked with “Quito” in large letters on the front, so they hopped on and we followed. What they didn’t see were the small letters Pt. Right in front of Quito. We’re on the bus maybe ten minutes, knowing we’re not headed toward Quito, but thinking we’d just make a giant circle or something. The guy in the group asked how long the ride was, but the bus attendant didn’t understand him, so I translated. The response: “3 and a half hours.” My response: “To Quito?!” Bus attendant: “No, no. To Puerto Quito.” Uh oh. We told him the situation, which was already obvious by my tone of voice and got off on the next stop. I was majorly scanned into paying over $4 for a ride that originally cost $3.25 to go over three hours. I knew it too, but didn’t have time to argue, being a foreigner and having to get off right then. So there we are, sitting on the side of the road, hoping some bus headed for Quito would come by in this obscure place. It did! But then we had another 3 or so buses, two taxi rides and a couple of trolleys to return.

My headache, which is already quit common back home, was ridiculous. I lied down for three hours without any water left until bailing in. The window in my room was open to cool it down. Somebody outside was cooking or something that made smoke come into my room, so I closed my window. Again, stupid. The only result of that was my room being filled with smoke with no place to go. Then, Rosa started cooking with onion downstairs, the smell of which filled the entire house. Finally, that song that the string quartet in Titanic played as the ship was going down started playing over and over from somewhere. These combined factors tipped my pain and emotions over the edge completely. Michelle and Keith had drunken the water and Rosa said they had no problems (I knew they had both been very “digestively ill” and assumed this to be the cause). But I was desperate. Rosa, Michelle, and Aisha were having dinner and I explained that I had a severe headache and was wondering if I could try her water. She stood up with a look of victory on her face. I had some and the explained I would probably vomit, but then feel better later. I went back upstairs, did just that and lied down and cried. No more water once again, because Rosa has to boil it. A while later, she came into my room and said she had gone to the doctor and gotten altitude sickness medicine. I took three pills over the span of a half-hour (with precious water). My temperature went down and my headache slowly disperses, as did my urge to vomit again. Miracle pills, given by my angel, Rosa. So, now I’m awake very early, feeling MUCH better. I think my body keeps wanting me to get more water so wakes me up, but I already checked and there isn’t any. I’ll wait until the morning tea in 4 hours.

Now onto the GOOD parts of the day:

I got to know Keith and Michelle much better as well as meet two other volunteers. Over breakfast (papaya and a cookie) Keith and Michelle were both extremely honest about their digestive problems. You can’t have any shame here, because you need to get help. Keith skipped a day of work last week and Michelle was up all night the night before. I won’t share the graphic details, but it was funny and really good how blatantly honest they were. He said “So, basically , it’s bound to happen.” We’ll see. Oh! The first thing he said was “Did you figure it out yet?” Me: “Figure what out?” Keith: “The hot water.” Now, I wasn’t going to complain about the cold showers because most people in the world do not get this luxury. But apparently we can. He said they were going to make me suffer for a full week like they did, but caved. Later he bluntly gave me the talk about what I could and couldn’t flush down the toilet. Poor guy has to share the bathroom with a girl so actually has to worry about that know. Michelle has her own bathroom.

The two of them gave me lots of tips and mused about how they’re out-of-breath everywhere. I said, “Yeah! I kind of wanted to get a red blood cell count before and after the trip to see if this whole acclimization thing is real” -----awkward silence ------ “I’m a health major, so it’s my thing.”

The other volunteers I met were Liona and Marie. Dad will be happy to hear that Liona is from Ireland! (He had joked that I should practice my Spanish with an Irish accent to avoid disdain toward Americans). Liona is from Waterford, so I got to tell her about how we were there for the annual festival last summer. It’s funny, because I has just been thinking a day before that the cab rides here are like the crazy one we had in Waterford. Her dad worked in the crystal factory since he was 14 years old, before it shut down.

Marie is from Ottawa, Canada. Nope, I had nothing to say in response to that. Marie has a cool accent to, and says “eh” a lot which makes me happy. I like when those stereotypes come true.

We all traveled well together. Keith, despite my gatorness, made sure the new girl was never left behind, especially on the buses. I got to be the translator most of the time, which was a lot of fun.

The complex of Mitad del Mundo, middle of the world, is where all the tourists finally see one another. There’s a large tower with North and South clearly marked and a bright yellow line with the elevation marked for pictures. Fortunately, Liona had been here before, so she knew this was not the real equator (shhhhh!) This is when the hike came into play. IT WAS SO COOL! The guide stopped every so often to show us natural remedies in the flora. Lavender, mint, the makings of licorice, medicinal plants for headaches and stomach aches (we were tempted to steal this one), and sashi were on the list. Sashi is a hallucinogen that tastes like blackberry and looks like blood when you break it open. They had calculated the fatal limit at 21 small berries. Don’t ask me how. I respectfully declined to taste.

When we got to the top of where we were going, we stood on a gravel path of just a few feet’s width and looked down onto a giant crated that had been the remains of a huge volcano years before. 100 people live in the equator to tend the now lush land, because they are confident that the volcano right next to them will not erupt for another thousand years. It takes an hour and fifteen minutes to hike out of the crater for these residents. Then, Fernando, our guide, played a song with a small instrument to pay his respects to his Mother Earth. We sat in silence for a while with him to respect his tradition. We had gone up at the absolute perfect time, because the clouds began moving in so we were literally in the clouds, and sometimes above them too. That doesn’t happen often.

Well that was yesterday. Not really sure what today brings, perhaps finally getting to work with the street children? We’ll see.