I wasn't sure if my first day in Baños could top my first night, but I got to fly so I think it's safe to say that it did. We took a little bus ride up to a canyon with a river at the bottom and proceeded to tempt fate by riding a small basket-like contraption across it. And then I decided to give fate another chance by riding a zipline across the canyon. Ricardo called it 'flying' and I have to admit that it really did feel like flying. At first there is a big drop in the line and I honestly did think I would die, but then it evens out a little and it's just amazing. I got to come close to death twice in 20 minutes for a mere $6. Gotta love that!
That afternoon Baños treated us to the Carnaval parade, complete with about 30 groups of dancing children. Watching children as young as 6 and 7 outdance you definitely makes a girl feel like a gringa.
Day 3 of our weekend was my real introduction to karrioka. Karrioka is a big part of Carnaval, especially for gringas. It's a similar idea to silly string, but it's a foamy kind of colored soap or something of that nature. The basic idea is to spray everyone as much as possible, especially gringas. So on day 3 we went to Rio Verde to play Carnaval, in my favorite form of transportation, the back of a truck. However, to get to Rio Verde you actually have to go through several tunnels which is a bit scarier in the back of at truck than I would have imagined. We called this part of the trip 'El Terror.' El Terror was heightened by the fact that water drips down through the tunnels which makes me really question their structural integrity...
So at Rio Verde we enjoyed a lovely walk in the natural beauty by the river, punctuated by karrioka attacks. This is called 'playing carnaval.' I wasn't quite prepared. I gave a nice little spray of karrioka to Ricardo and all of the sudden I had karrioka all over my face and in my hair. I then realized playing carnaval is not quite as innocent as it sounds. We visited the Cascada Diablo which is absolutely amazing. So amazing in fact that on the trail to the Cascada (waterfall) there is a sign that says if you don't believe in God, you're about to.
That evening we continued playing carnaval all throughout Baños. It turns out that karrioka attacks are by no means limited to people that you know personally. And that gringas seem to be the favorite target of most people. Oh well, Es Carnaval! And at the parade I was dubbed (ok, maybe I dubbed myself) La Reina de Fiestas, and after all, Carnaval is one big fiesta!
I was constantly amazed at how much people take in stride during Carnaval. Every time I karrioked someone in the face I was waiting for the anger, but people laugh and smile or karrioka me back and that's the end of it. I tried to imagine something like Carnaval happening in New York or DC and had to admit that there would be a daily Carnaval death toll due to the karrioka rage that would surely emerge.
After a beautiful weekend of karrioka, dancing, music and just general good times I have to say that it was hard to leave Baños. In our last night there we spent a few hours with the family dancing and having fashion shows and I couldn't help but feel like I am gonna need to get back to Baños soon. So... anyone up for a trip to Baños next weekend?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Carnaval 2: Toco La Pared
After our arrival in Baños, Mary Beth and I went to an Italian restaurant because we were drawn by the smell. After eating amazing pasta there, I kind of insisted that we eat there for the next two nights as well. Mmm... pasta. I had been craving pasta in Quito but I haven't discovered it here yet.
After dinner we met up with Bianca and Emma who had just arrived from Quito and we went out to the house to get settled in. We were staying with a family that Mary Beth knows from when she previously lived in Ecuador. This family was absolutely amazing. I can hardly imagine how they could have been better hosts to us. There are three kids, Elizabeth who is 24, Ricardo (AKA Pretty Ricky) who is 16 and Niely who is probably about 8 or 9. I really can't say enough good things about them.
After we dropped our stuff off and talked for a little bit we hopped in the back of Elizabeth's boyfriend's truck and headed off to start Carnaval. I haven't ridden in the back of a truck since I was in Guatemala and I kind of forgot how awesome it is. Luckily, we did it a lot this weekend so I got my fill. After Emma ate a fantastic Doner Kebab, we went to a little place to get canelazos. A canelazo is a hot drink made with Aguardiente, also known as firewater. Think... moonshine. As creatures of habit, we also ended up at this place every other night.
With a few canalezos in our systems we headed out to start dancing. We danced the night away until I eventually hit the wall at around 3 am. Trying to utilize my Spanish, I went outside and said, "Emma, yo toco la parel." Emma, understandably confused looked at me strangely and just said, "what?" I repeated myself, with more force. Again, she looked at me with a puzzled expression. Until finally I said, "Emma, I hit the wall." It seems that this expression does not translate.
We met a lot of new people our first night in Baños, one of whom was a super-hippie from North Carolina named Mateo. He had an interesting style of dancing which we imitated all weekend. As we were walking along the street after the bar closed and kicked us out Emma pointed out a puddle of water to Mateo. He then proceeded to lick from the puddle, much to our horror.
And that was how we started Carnaval.
After dinner we met up with Bianca and Emma who had just arrived from Quito and we went out to the house to get settled in. We were staying with a family that Mary Beth knows from when she previously lived in Ecuador. This family was absolutely amazing. I can hardly imagine how they could have been better hosts to us. There are three kids, Elizabeth who is 24, Ricardo (AKA Pretty Ricky) who is 16 and Niely who is probably about 8 or 9. I really can't say enough good things about them.
After we dropped our stuff off and talked for a little bit we hopped in the back of Elizabeth's boyfriend's truck and headed off to start Carnaval. I haven't ridden in the back of a truck since I was in Guatemala and I kind of forgot how awesome it is. Luckily, we did it a lot this weekend so I got my fill. After Emma ate a fantastic Doner Kebab, we went to a little place to get canelazos. A canelazo is a hot drink made with Aguardiente, also known as firewater. Think... moonshine. As creatures of habit, we also ended up at this place every other night.
With a few canalezos in our systems we headed out to start dancing. We danced the night away until I eventually hit the wall at around 3 am. Trying to utilize my Spanish, I went outside and said, "Emma, yo toco la parel." Emma, understandably confused looked at me strangely and just said, "what?" I repeated myself, with more force. Again, she looked at me with a puzzled expression. Until finally I said, "Emma, I hit the wall." It seems that this expression does not translate.
We met a lot of new people our first night in Baños, one of whom was a super-hippie from North Carolina named Mateo. He had an interesting style of dancing which we imitated all weekend. As we were walking along the street after the bar closed and kicked us out Emma pointed out a puddle of water to Mateo. He then proceeded to lick from the puddle, much to our horror.
And that was how we started Carnaval.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Carnaval 1: The Departure
I have a sneaking suspicion that my other extranjero friends are becoming a little more Ecuadorian every day. After approximately 3409384 emails about our trip to Baños, we hadn´t figured out much except what time we should buy tickets for. But then, in classic Ecuadorian fashion, Emma's boss told her that she had to go to a meeting which started an hour before we had to leave. So we were in a bit of a pickle. With a little help from our friends and some juggling of the schedule, we worked out a plan.
So, on Friday I left that house around 12:45 or so, 2 hours and 15 minutes before we had to catch our bus. I was supposed to meet Mary Beth at Trole parada so I hauled myself to the bus stop and endured a ride that felt very long as people jostled my backpack.
I got to the parada and got off and then got a call from Emma asking me to walk to her office from the parada, which is about 4 blocks more or less. So I did, but when I got to the corner where we were supposed to meet I realized I didn't have any saldo (money, minutes) on my phone so I couldn't call her. I then found somewhere to buy saldo for my phone and finally was able to call Emma. She and Mary Beth met me on the corner where they told me that actually, we were going to walk to Emma's house and leave from there.
Finally, we arrived at Emma's and Mary Beth packed a bag. Emma's host brother called us a cab and I waited around for our departure. While Mary Beth was getting ready everyone else at the house left for lunch. The cab arrived and we pulled the door shut and headed to the gate. To find that we couldn't open the gate without the house keys. Which we left in the house. Which was locked. So the cab left us and we called Emma to try to figure out what to do. While she was trying to call someone to come back and let us out we explored our options. I made a few attempts and climbing over the wall but just couldn't pull it off. Finally, we looked in the families car for keys and discovered a garage door opener for the gate. As Mary Beth pushed the button of our salvation and the gate opened I ran out, to see our other friend Bianca less than a block away coming to let us out. Of course.
We ran down the street to hail a cab and amazingly found one within 5 minutes. And promptly got stuck in traffic. We arrived at the bus station at about 3 on the dot. We ran through the bus station, narrowly avoiding knocking down children and old people. We couldn't find anyone at the office where we bought the tickets so we just went out in the station to try to find the right bus. After asking several people we finally found what we believed was the right one and waited there. And then a woman came to find us and told us that our bus had left, but we could get on the 4 pm bus. However, she then decided we could get on another company's bus and not have to get new tickets. We got on at about 3:10, but the bus didn't leave for at least another 20 or 30 minutes.
As we were waiting on the bus one of the bus employees walked to the back of the bus with the backpacks of some gringos and told them that they had to keep the backpacks with them on the bus. The gringo was none too happy and kept yelling, "Mas despacio, mas despacio." Followed by "Hay es bullshit!" I'm not sure whether he was trying to get the guy to talk slower (despacio) or whether he was trying to say there was plenty of space underneath the bus (espacio). I do know he was not happy. Eventually they just put the bags in the aisle and called it good. And finally, we were on our way.
Luckily, this level of miscommunication and complication wasn't too indicative of the rest of the trip. Gracias a Dios. Stay tuned for Carnaval 2: Toco la pared.
So, on Friday I left that house around 12:45 or so, 2 hours and 15 minutes before we had to catch our bus. I was supposed to meet Mary Beth at Trole parada so I hauled myself to the bus stop and endured a ride that felt very long as people jostled my backpack.
I got to the parada and got off and then got a call from Emma asking me to walk to her office from the parada, which is about 4 blocks more or less. So I did, but when I got to the corner where we were supposed to meet I realized I didn't have any saldo (money, minutes) on my phone so I couldn't call her. I then found somewhere to buy saldo for my phone and finally was able to call Emma. She and Mary Beth met me on the corner where they told me that actually, we were going to walk to Emma's house and leave from there.
Finally, we arrived at Emma's and Mary Beth packed a bag. Emma's host brother called us a cab and I waited around for our departure. While Mary Beth was getting ready everyone else at the house left for lunch. The cab arrived and we pulled the door shut and headed to the gate. To find that we couldn't open the gate without the house keys. Which we left in the house. Which was locked. So the cab left us and we called Emma to try to figure out what to do. While she was trying to call someone to come back and let us out we explored our options. I made a few attempts and climbing over the wall but just couldn't pull it off. Finally, we looked in the families car for keys and discovered a garage door opener for the gate. As Mary Beth pushed the button of our salvation and the gate opened I ran out, to see our other friend Bianca less than a block away coming to let us out. Of course.
We ran down the street to hail a cab and amazingly found one within 5 minutes. And promptly got stuck in traffic. We arrived at the bus station at about 3 on the dot. We ran through the bus station, narrowly avoiding knocking down children and old people. We couldn't find anyone at the office where we bought the tickets so we just went out in the station to try to find the right bus. After asking several people we finally found what we believed was the right one and waited there. And then a woman came to find us and told us that our bus had left, but we could get on the 4 pm bus. However, she then decided we could get on another company's bus and not have to get new tickets. We got on at about 3:10, but the bus didn't leave for at least another 20 or 30 minutes.
As we were waiting on the bus one of the bus employees walked to the back of the bus with the backpacks of some gringos and told them that they had to keep the backpacks with them on the bus. The gringo was none too happy and kept yelling, "Mas despacio, mas despacio." Followed by "Hay es bullshit!" I'm not sure whether he was trying to get the guy to talk slower (despacio) or whether he was trying to say there was plenty of space underneath the bus (espacio). I do know he was not happy. Eventually they just put the bags in the aisle and called it good. And finally, we were on our way.
Luckily, this level of miscommunication and complication wasn't too indicative of the rest of the trip. Gracias a Dios. Stay tuned for Carnaval 2: Toco la pared.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Adventures of a Ecuadorian Social Life
Living with a host family has been interesting from the beginning, but the recent development of a social life has made things even more interesting. My host family gets me up every morning at 7 am for breakfast, which had been do-able after SAE events because I usually get home around 11. But after my first night out with Ecuadorians, it was more of a challenge.
I'll start by trying to explain how Ecuadorians drink together. Towards the end of the night, we went to a bar and ordered 4 grande beers. You might think that we would then each drink a beer at our own pace. You would be wrong. We have four cups, and someone fills each cup, then we toast to something (Kansas, Happy Hour, Salud, whatever) and drink our cup. Then repeat. Until the beers are gone. Not a great way to drink if you're trying to slow down at the end of the night.
So the next morning at 7, about 5 hours after I get home, I get the knock on the door for breakfast. As the dutiful host daughter, I drag myself out of bed and go try to eat breakfast. After one bite it's clear to me that I just can't do it. So I go back to bed. My host family wasn't in the room when I left, so about 2 minutes later I hear my host mother come into my apartment and into my apartment. I know I can't form words in Spanish at this point so I just pretend to sleep and let her look at me in what I'm sure is massive confusion. "Is she dead? Is she sick?... What happened?" She leaves after a few minutes and I resume my preferred morning activity: sleeping.
At around 11:30, I'm still in bed and my host mother comes back into my apartment and bedroom (without knocking, I might add) and says "¿Que pasando???" I reply in Spanish that I'm just tired and I wasn't hungry for breakfast. She then asks if I'm sick and I have to reply that I'm just tired. At this point I find myself wondering if her kids ever went out to have a few drinks and wanted to sleep in the morning. Apparently not... She then proceeds to pull the covers over me and tuck me in so I can go back to sleep. It's all I can do to keep from bursting out laughing.
The crowning glory of this event is when I come to eat dinner and find my uneaten breakfast on the table waiting for me. Along with my dinner. I drink the juice but choose to pass on the bread and 12 hour old instant coffee. Needless to say, my host mother is shocked by my incredibly odd behavior. And that sentiment, my friends, goes both ways.
I'll start by trying to explain how Ecuadorians drink together. Towards the end of the night, we went to a bar and ordered 4 grande beers. You might think that we would then each drink a beer at our own pace. You would be wrong. We have four cups, and someone fills each cup, then we toast to something (Kansas, Happy Hour, Salud, whatever) and drink our cup. Then repeat. Until the beers are gone. Not a great way to drink if you're trying to slow down at the end of the night.
So the next morning at 7, about 5 hours after I get home, I get the knock on the door for breakfast. As the dutiful host daughter, I drag myself out of bed and go try to eat breakfast. After one bite it's clear to me that I just can't do it. So I go back to bed. My host family wasn't in the room when I left, so about 2 minutes later I hear my host mother come into my apartment and into my apartment. I know I can't form words in Spanish at this point so I just pretend to sleep and let her look at me in what I'm sure is massive confusion. "Is she dead? Is she sick?... What happened?" She leaves after a few minutes and I resume my preferred morning activity: sleeping.
At around 11:30, I'm still in bed and my host mother comes back into my apartment and bedroom (without knocking, I might add) and says "¿Que pasando???" I reply in Spanish that I'm just tired and I wasn't hungry for breakfast. She then asks if I'm sick and I have to reply that I'm just tired. At this point I find myself wondering if her kids ever went out to have a few drinks and wanted to sleep in the morning. Apparently not... She then proceeds to pull the covers over me and tuck me in so I can go back to sleep. It's all I can do to keep from bursting out laughing.
The crowning glory of this event is when I come to eat dinner and find my uneaten breakfast on the table waiting for me. Along with my dinner. I drink the juice but choose to pass on the bread and 12 hour old instant coffee. Needless to say, my host mother is shocked by my incredibly odd behavior. And that sentiment, my friends, goes both ways.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Bits and Pieces
The rain is continuing here in Quito, unfortunately. Today is our 5th straight day. I'm somewhat at peace with it, though, because when I woke up this morning the sun was shining and throughout at the day as I went all over the city for my different work responsibilities I avoided getting rained on. I even graded papers on the roof this morning in an attempt to even out a very bad farmer's tan I picked up last weekend at Mitad del Mundo (no luck quite yet). I almost like the sound of the rain as I enjoy a peaceful night in, but that's only if it isn't raining tomorrow when I have to walk to work.
Some of you are preparing to celebrate (or are already celebrating: Kaleb Borg) Mardi Gras back home. Here in South America I'm getting ready to celebrate too, although here it's called Carnival. I'm going to be going to Baños with some of the friends I met at South American Explorers. It's a pretty big deal here. I'll have Monday and Tuesday off work so it will be quite the long weekend. I'm so looking forward to getting out of the city and visiting a new place in Ecuador. I'll make sure to take lots of pictures.
Now that I've settled in time really does seem to be going pretty fast. I was talking with the director at the school today and next week I won't be teaching because of Carnival, and the following week I have my first visitor (yay!!!) so I won't be teaching then, asi que, the next time I'll teach will be the second week in March. MARCH! I can hardly believe that I'm already planning things out for March.
I haven't learned any sweet dance moves yet, but stay tuned on that front. I'm making every effort to pick some up soon. And then when I come back to DC we can hit up Cafe Citron and blow people away... not like we haven't been able to do that for years :)
Some of you are preparing to celebrate (or are already celebrating: Kaleb Borg) Mardi Gras back home. Here in South America I'm getting ready to celebrate too, although here it's called Carnival. I'm going to be going to Baños with some of the friends I met at South American Explorers. It's a pretty big deal here. I'll have Monday and Tuesday off work so it will be quite the long weekend. I'm so looking forward to getting out of the city and visiting a new place in Ecuador. I'll make sure to take lots of pictures.
Now that I've settled in time really does seem to be going pretty fast. I was talking with the director at the school today and next week I won't be teaching because of Carnival, and the following week I have my first visitor (yay!!!) so I won't be teaching then, asi que, the next time I'll teach will be the second week in March. MARCH! I can hardly believe that I'm already planning things out for March.
I haven't learned any sweet dance moves yet, but stay tuned on that front. I'm making every effort to pick some up soon. And then when I come back to DC we can hit up Cafe Citron and blow people away... not like we haven't been able to do that for years :)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
When It Rains, It Pours
The title of this post is both literal and figurative. It's literal because we're in our third or fourth straight day of rain and gray skies. This is bad news for a girl who has a really bad farmer's tan. I desperately need a free day that involves sun so I can try to even my arms out and be able to wear tank tops again.
It's also figurative because after a long drought in my social life, I have been overly busy for the past several days. Last Wednesday I had Bingo night with the South American Explorers (SAE) (I know, Bingo, but hey, I don't have a lot going on), then on Thursday I had my "dancing" night, followed by a Chivoteca with SAE, and for my Dia de Amor y Amistad I went out with some friends to perhaps the trendiest bar in Ecuador. I feel like I definitely soaked up some trendiness while there. Stay tuned for Lisa Loeb glasses.
The Chivoteca needs more explanation. It was basically a long truck with a roof and a DJ booth set up. We drove around the city for about 2 hours dancing. At first it was somewhat awkward, but after a while it was just a good time. I wish I would have taken pictures. It reminded a little bit of when we used to have a ride in the grain truck down D street in Hillsboro with TFY. Good times.
It's nice to have finally managed a social life, but now the challenge is to balance my social life with my work. It's something that is harder to do here than in other places since I work from my kitchen and definitely don't operate within a 9-5 framework. But I am more than ready to take on this challenge after many a night of wondering just when I would find people to hang out with.
It's also figurative because after a long drought in my social life, I have been overly busy for the past several days. Last Wednesday I had Bingo night with the South American Explorers (SAE) (I know, Bingo, but hey, I don't have a lot going on), then on Thursday I had my "dancing" night, followed by a Chivoteca with SAE, and for my Dia de Amor y Amistad I went out with some friends to perhaps the trendiest bar in Ecuador. I feel like I definitely soaked up some trendiness while there. Stay tuned for Lisa Loeb glasses.
The Chivoteca needs more explanation. It was basically a long truck with a roof and a DJ booth set up. We drove around the city for about 2 hours dancing. At first it was somewhat awkward, but after a while it was just a good time. I wish I would have taken pictures. It reminded a little bit of when we used to have a ride in the grain truck down D street in Hillsboro with TFY. Good times.
It's nice to have finally managed a social life, but now the challenge is to balance my social life with my work. It's something that is harder to do here than in other places since I work from my kitchen and definitely don't operate within a 9-5 framework. But I am more than ready to take on this challenge after many a night of wondering just when I would find people to hang out with.
Friday, February 13, 2009
¿Quieres bailar?
Well, I knew it was inevitable but last night I finally came face to face with a dancing situation. There's another teacher around my age at the school I teach at and last night I went out with her and her friends. As she told me before we left: "There's no such thing as maybe when it comes to dancing." So despite my protests, I was dragged out onto the dance floor a few times. I won't pretend that I'm good. At all. But all I heard all night was: "Pero es que facil!" (But it's so easy!) Although I made a fool of myself last night, I had some volunteers when I said I just need someone to teach me. So who knows, by the time I get back to the states I could be a dancing fool.
After last week when I worked seven days in a row, I decided I needed to tone my schedule down a little bit. I'm trying to visit every refugee family once every two weeks, and I'm going to try to supplement my time with teaching more hours at the school. I have a feeling that will be easier said than done though, so we'll have to see.
The other highlight of my week is that I met another International Social Worker and we had a complete geek-out. International Social Work is a tiny, tiny concentration and I never meet other people interested in it (except at an International Social Work conference once), so I was absolutely thrilled. I see many more geek-outs ahead of us.
It's hard to believe I'm already a month and a half into my time here. On the one hand it goes so fast and on the other hand it feels like I've been here much longer. I'm starting to get the feeling that it's going to be really hard to leave at the end of July. But I'm trying to take some advice from a few of my friends and live in the moment instead of worrying about things so far in the future.
After last week when I worked seven days in a row, I decided I needed to tone my schedule down a little bit. I'm trying to visit every refugee family once every two weeks, and I'm going to try to supplement my time with teaching more hours at the school. I have a feeling that will be easier said than done though, so we'll have to see.
The other highlight of my week is that I met another International Social Worker and we had a complete geek-out. International Social Work is a tiny, tiny concentration and I never meet other people interested in it (except at an International Social Work conference once), so I was absolutely thrilled. I see many more geek-outs ahead of us.
It's hard to believe I'm already a month and a half into my time here. On the one hand it goes so fast and on the other hand it feels like I've been here much longer. I'm starting to get the feeling that it's going to be really hard to leave at the end of July. But I'm trying to take some advice from a few of my friends and live in the moment instead of worrying about things so far in the future.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Getting My Tourist On
I'm happy to report that this weekend I can say that I lived life to the fullest and I am exhausted and sunburned to prove it! Since I more or less jumped right into work when I arrived I haven't had time to take in many of the tourist sites, but this weekend with the help of some natives I explored Quito and the surrounding areas.
On Saturday my friend Christian took me to the TeleferiQo. The TeleferiQo is a terrifying little car which runs on a cable up the Pichincha mountain to the West of Quito. It looks kind of like a ski lift, but it's a closed rather than open. It starts at around 9,000 feet and drops you off at about 13,000. As I rode the tiny death trap up to the top (with camera-toting Asian tourist I might add), I was able to pause the video in my head of what would happen if the car fell off the cable long enough to enjoy the spectacular view. Once on top of Pichincha there are a few short trails which we braved, of course taking many breaks since there is no oxygen that I could find to breathe up there. All in all, spectacular. And I managed to catch at least 50% of what Christian said during the day, which is an accomplishment because he talks faster than about anyone I know. And I learned a new word: chévere. It means cool, or so I've been told. You can see the pictures from this adventure here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004929&l=69d71&id=74100090
Today I ventured to Mitad del Mundo, the middle of the world which is actually located a little ways away from the actual equator. Shoddy conquering and colonizing if I've ever seen it. Solano and Nancy invited me to visit Mitad del Mundo and a few other places around it. Solano is the director at Hazel McCallion where I teach English and Nancy is his wife and also a teacher at the school. We started out the day at El Pucara de Rumicucho, which is an Incan ruin. As I mentioned in one of my other posts, Ecuador doesn't have the huge ruins that you can find in other Latin American countries because it is already so close to the sun that peoples who worshipped the sun knew they didn't have to build as high to get the same effect. Although the ruins weren't spectacular in and of themselves, the view was again fantastic and we had a great guide who was able to tell us all kinds of details about the ruins, which I promptly forgot. And there was a crazy silver spider. I mean, it was crazy. Check out the pics.
Next we went to an enormous volcanic crater with (you guessed it) an amazing view. Really spectacular people. And we finished it off at Mitad del Mundo where I had a very traditional lunch of a cheeseburger and Diet Coke. You can take the girl out of America... Anyway, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. I would like to say that Solano and Nancy brought the yellow hat for me because of the sun, I may not have great fashion sense but that particular mistake wasn't mine. http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004932&l=0aa5f&id=74100090
As I've experienced the hospitality of the Ecuadorians (and Colombians) here, it makes me think of the contrast in what I experience here as an American and what a Latin American immigrant experiences in the US. Here people continuously show me hospitality and kindness, while in the US Latin American immigrants face discrimination and hate. This is a happy post, so I won't get too into that but I have just been very aware lately of my American privilege. But go look at pictures and either be jealous that you're not here or excited for when you get to come visit me!
On Saturday my friend Christian took me to the TeleferiQo. The TeleferiQo is a terrifying little car which runs on a cable up the Pichincha mountain to the West of Quito. It looks kind of like a ski lift, but it's a closed rather than open. It starts at around 9,000 feet and drops you off at about 13,000. As I rode the tiny death trap up to the top (with camera-toting Asian tourist I might add), I was able to pause the video in my head of what would happen if the car fell off the cable long enough to enjoy the spectacular view. Once on top of Pichincha there are a few short trails which we braved, of course taking many breaks since there is no oxygen that I could find to breathe up there. All in all, spectacular. And I managed to catch at least 50% of what Christian said during the day, which is an accomplishment because he talks faster than about anyone I know. And I learned a new word: chévere. It means cool, or so I've been told. You can see the pictures from this adventure here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004929&l=69d71&id=74100090
Today I ventured to Mitad del Mundo, the middle of the world which is actually located a little ways away from the actual equator. Shoddy conquering and colonizing if I've ever seen it. Solano and Nancy invited me to visit Mitad del Mundo and a few other places around it. Solano is the director at Hazel McCallion where I teach English and Nancy is his wife and also a teacher at the school. We started out the day at El Pucara de Rumicucho, which is an Incan ruin. As I mentioned in one of my other posts, Ecuador doesn't have the huge ruins that you can find in other Latin American countries because it is already so close to the sun that peoples who worshipped the sun knew they didn't have to build as high to get the same effect. Although the ruins weren't spectacular in and of themselves, the view was again fantastic and we had a great guide who was able to tell us all kinds of details about the ruins, which I promptly forgot. And there was a crazy silver spider. I mean, it was crazy. Check out the pics.
Next we went to an enormous volcanic crater with (you guessed it) an amazing view. Really spectacular people. And we finished it off at Mitad del Mundo where I had a very traditional lunch of a cheeseburger and Diet Coke. You can take the girl out of America... Anyway, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. I would like to say that Solano and Nancy brought the yellow hat for me because of the sun, I may not have great fashion sense but that particular mistake wasn't mine. http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004932&l=0aa5f&id=74100090
As I've experienced the hospitality of the Ecuadorians (and Colombians) here, it makes me think of the contrast in what I experience here as an American and what a Latin American immigrant experiences in the US. Here people continuously show me hospitality and kindness, while in the US Latin American immigrants face discrimination and hate. This is a happy post, so I won't get too into that but I have just been very aware lately of my American privilege. But go look at pictures and either be jealous that you're not here or excited for when you get to come visit me!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Feeling Pretty Small
I don't have much reading material in English at my disposal here, so I'm borrowing a book from Trish. It's about a boy from Central America making the journey to the States. I have already read a similar book, and having been in Immigrant Rights circles back in DC, prior to beginning the book I didn't imagine that I'd gain a lot of new insight. But I was wrong.
The stories of human rights abuses at the hands of La Migra, police, bandits and many others along the way didn't really phase me. After hearing similar stories from so many people from different situations, I've learned to put up somewhat of a barrier for those and I don't let them in too far (my small step to try to avoid secondary trauma). What really got me were the stories of the kindness of people in Mexico. In one town a woman has opened her home to care for migrants who have been mutilated by the train, most with lost limbs. She didn't get a grant to start a nice center like one would do in the States. Rather, she begs for the money to provide medical care, food, and prosthesis to the migrants who otherwise would have little or no care. I can only imagine how many hours a week this woman dedicates to caring for the people in her care and struggling to find the money to keep providing it.
As the book goes on it details the journey of the train through the Veracruz region of Mexico. As the train winds through the small towns, people come out not to attack or ridicule the migrants as has been the case in the Southern regions of Mexico, but to give what little food and water they have to the people on the train, who in many cases have not had anything to eat or drink in days. These people hear the train in the distance and make mad dashes to their homes to gather up food, water, and clothing and then continue the dash to run alongside the train and hand off their gifts. According to the World Bank, a little over 40% of Mexico lives on less than $2 a day, and it is likely that in these rural areas by train tracks it is significantly less.
Ever since moving to Washington in 2006, I have been faced with an outstretched hand on every corner. Some are individuals, others have their clipboard and their cause. The vast majority of times, I make sure to awknowledge the person, but keep my wallet in my purse. The issue of donating money on the street is one that I've never been able to come to a comfortable conclusion about. I've always thought carrying food to give is pretty reasonable, but can never remember to do it. I had let myself put the issue on the shelf to be addressed another day, but hearing stories of people who not only give what they have, but go out of their way, running to catch up with a moving train, has made me feel ridiculously small.
In my time here I've come face to face with children begging for money or trying to sell things on the buses. Yesterday, I was sitting at Juan Valdez drinking a cup of (overpriced) coffee and a little girl came up to me to try to sell me something. I told her no and she moved along to another table where a young woman gave her what was left of a piece of cake. I watched as the little girl moved a few paces away and devoured the cake and wondered what else she had eaten that day. Or that week.
I feel like this is the kind of post that should end with something conclusive, but once again I don't have an answer. I think one of my problems is having too much passion. If you get me started on any number of issues, I can go on and on about the injustice of it. The problem with this is that the more issues I come to understand and feel passionate about, the more overwhelmed I feel. So, the question is, where to draw the line? And the answer is something I don't really have but I do know that when faced with the stories of the kindness of people in Mexico, I think I haven't reached the line quite yet and I need to step my game up.
The stories of human rights abuses at the hands of La Migra, police, bandits and many others along the way didn't really phase me. After hearing similar stories from so many people from different situations, I've learned to put up somewhat of a barrier for those and I don't let them in too far (my small step to try to avoid secondary trauma). What really got me were the stories of the kindness of people in Mexico. In one town a woman has opened her home to care for migrants who have been mutilated by the train, most with lost limbs. She didn't get a grant to start a nice center like one would do in the States. Rather, she begs for the money to provide medical care, food, and prosthesis to the migrants who otherwise would have little or no care. I can only imagine how many hours a week this woman dedicates to caring for the people in her care and struggling to find the money to keep providing it.
As the book goes on it details the journey of the train through the Veracruz region of Mexico. As the train winds through the small towns, people come out not to attack or ridicule the migrants as has been the case in the Southern regions of Mexico, but to give what little food and water they have to the people on the train, who in many cases have not had anything to eat or drink in days. These people hear the train in the distance and make mad dashes to their homes to gather up food, water, and clothing and then continue the dash to run alongside the train and hand off their gifts. According to the World Bank, a little over 40% of Mexico lives on less than $2 a day, and it is likely that in these rural areas by train tracks it is significantly less.
Ever since moving to Washington in 2006, I have been faced with an outstretched hand on every corner. Some are individuals, others have their clipboard and their cause. The vast majority of times, I make sure to awknowledge the person, but keep my wallet in my purse. The issue of donating money on the street is one that I've never been able to come to a comfortable conclusion about. I've always thought carrying food to give is pretty reasonable, but can never remember to do it. I had let myself put the issue on the shelf to be addressed another day, but hearing stories of people who not only give what they have, but go out of their way, running to catch up with a moving train, has made me feel ridiculously small.
In my time here I've come face to face with children begging for money or trying to sell things on the buses. Yesterday, I was sitting at Juan Valdez drinking a cup of (overpriced) coffee and a little girl came up to me to try to sell me something. I told her no and she moved along to another table where a young woman gave her what was left of a piece of cake. I watched as the little girl moved a few paces away and devoured the cake and wondered what else she had eaten that day. Or that week.
I feel like this is the kind of post that should end with something conclusive, but once again I don't have an answer. I think one of my problems is having too much passion. If you get me started on any number of issues, I can go on and on about the injustice of it. The problem with this is that the more issues I come to understand and feel passionate about, the more overwhelmed I feel. So, the question is, where to draw the line? And the answer is something I don't really have but I do know that when faced with the stories of the kindness of people in Mexico, I think I haven't reached the line quite yet and I need to step my game up.
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