Climbing Pichincha

This past weekend was a three day holiday here in Ecuador and a few volunteers decided to get together in Quito and attempt to climb the volcano Pichincha. I was excited to get away from work for a few days and reunite with a few of my friends.

We all met up in Quito Friday morning and checked in at The Secret Garden. I have now stayed at this hostel twice and would highly recommend it to travelers that want to save money but not sacrifice (modest) comfort and (some) security. This hostel has a great view of the Centro Historico of Quito. They have a restaurant/bar/relaxation spot on the fifth floor balcony that has magnificent views of the Quito and Pichincha.

View from The Secret Garden

On Friday we bummed around Quito and Mariscal district in anticipation of the next day’s climb. Pichincha is easily seen from most spots in Quito. It sits on the western border of the city with two towering peaks looking down over the city. The peak that we would climb, Rucu Pichincha, sits at 15,413 feet above sea level.  I should have realized that this was not going to be a cake walk.

Friday evening and night was spent at the restaurant and lounge area on the roof with many other international travelers. My friends and I had many long conversations/debates with a few of the European travelers. A Dutch man and I got into a discussion and the need to say the pledge of allegiance. He thought it was ridiculous and he was shocked when I said that in Texas schools we actually say the state pledge daily. He went on to say that he thought that sounded a lot like North Korea to him. He knew that statement was outrageous but he was simply trying to antagonize the Texan. After that speed bump was behind us we actually did have a good discussion about healthcare and the motivation to earn it rather than receive it. Points were made by a Frenchman, the Dutch guy, an English dude, and of course, me. It was all very good brain food.

The next morning we woke and enjoyed some two day old coffee on the fifth floor of our hostel. The flavor may not have been too good but at least it was warm and free. We gathered our things for the climb and set off toward the mountain. We hailed a taxi to take us to the base. From there we hopped on the teleférico, a four person gondola that takes site seers up part of the mountain. From the top of the teleférico we took a few pictures and looked around a bit. Once I saw how far we had to go my stomach dropped a bit. The gondola had taken us up only a small way on our journey to the top. We set off.

Gondola

Over the next two hours we hiked up and up and up. After every ridge we hoped to see the actual peak but we would just see another high ridge ahead of us. As we would later find out, the summit that we saw from the top of the teleférico was actually a “false summit” that really hid the much higher summit behind it. We stopped periodically to catch our breath and drink water and wonder how much further it was. We were afforded great views of Quito from this point on the mountain. As he looked over the city of Quito and the beautiful Andean landscape a friend of mine mentioned that climbing mountains makes one feel truly insignificant. It was an interesting thought and I shared that I felt almost the exact opposite. I feel more significant out in nature and being away from “everything” else. I also shared that the time I felt most insignificant was on top of the Empire State Building in NYC and seeing so many buildings and people and people in buildings. The mountains give me a place to feel both isolated from the world and yet totally in tune with it.



View of Quito before we entered the clouds

As we began the third hour of climbing the clouds rolled in. Or maybe more accurately we climbed into the clouds. Visibility was very low which may not have been a bad thing considering the how steep the mountain was if you looked down. If you can’t see it, you can’t be scared of it right? Pretty soon we left the discernible trail behind. The trail was gone and the only place to go was up. It started out in a rock scree that seemed to last forever but later would provide us the fun opportunity of “skiing” down it. We had to stop seemingly every minute or two to breathe. I was not expecting this climb to be so difficult considering that I had climbed another mountain here that was only a bit smaller. I believe the difference was the distance we had to hike to get to the start of the real climb.

View from the saddle

We made it up the rock scree and to a small saddle between the summit and another smaller peak. We rested there and talked about our options. After a bit of discussion we all knew we were going up even higher into the windy cloudy sky. The last 200 meters or so of Pichincha are a bear crawl up a pretty steep rocky incline. We scrambled up and finally made it to the top. Though there was no view to be seen due to the clouds but it was a great feeling to realize we could go no higher. We sat on the summit and ate empanadas and took a few pictures. I was freezing because I decided to wear shorts rather than jeans (lesson learned). We took in the limited oxygen for a few more minutes than decided it was time to point our noses downhill.

The descent took us about an hour and half, half the time it took us to get up there. As the adrenaline began to wear off from us summiting I began to realize how tired I was. The same thing dawned on my friends at seemingly the same time. Anytime there was a part of the trail that we could jog safely we did so to make the descent quicker. We finally made it down and hopped on the teleférico. It never felt so good to sit down.

A little "Karate Kid" on the summit

That evening we arrived at the hostel smelling to high heaven and could barely drag ourselves to the fourth floor where we were bunking. We got into the room that we were sharing with a few other travelers and laid down with a chorus of groans. As we talked about the days adventures I happened to glance over at our lockers in the room. A fellow volunteer had put all of his valuables in my locker because I had a lock. That locker had a significant amount of “goodies” in it. A smart phone, two hard drives, mp3 player, a wallet, and another volunteer’s cash. When I looked at the locker my heart stopped. Someone had broken the bottom part of the locker enough to get a hand into it. I pointed this out to my friends and began frantically searching for my key. When I finally found the key I fumbled with it to unlock the lock. Miraculously all of our things were still there. I was so relieved after this realization as well as exhausted from the climb that I laid down on the floor next to the lockers for a good twenty minutes as we all spoke about how crappy some people are.

We spent the evening in the Mariscal district that is very popular with Gringos. It felt good to relax and enjoy some good food and drink. I ate at a Mexican food restaurant that was amazing. It was so amazing that I am still sick from it! A friend of mine ate one bean off of my plate and he also became sick. If one bean made him sick, just imagine what a whole plate did to me. My host father has dubbed me “king” because of my frequent visits to the “throne”…

Probably the most accurate visual description of my emotions up high

This climb up Pichincha was much more difficult than I had anticipated. I have been running a good amount here in Latacunga to keep my cardio up and I plan on training much harder for our next climb. I hope that within the next year I will be able to climb Cotopaxi, the world’s highest active volcano which sits at 19,347 feet. Pichincha was a good tester to see how I might fare at higher elevation. I think I can… I think I can… I think I can.

Great trip with great friends

What do you bet the Gringo eats French fries?

So what is there to report since my last post? I have been sick for basically 2 weeks straight. It began with the loss of hearing in my right ear after swimming in Cumbaya. I thought it was nothing at the time and didn’t report the loss of hearing to the Medical Unit. After four days I decided it was time to do something. I spoke with the Peace Corps Medical Officer and was instructed to go to the local hospital and have my ear checked out. Little did I know that this was about to be yet another adventure into uncharted territory.  The instructions from the PC were vague at best. I decided to call the Ministry of Education English Coordinator to get her opinion on which hospital to go to and how to go about getting treatment. She told me to show up at her office and we would go together.  I was very grateful that she would drop everything she was doing and offer to take me to the hospital.

We entered into the ER which comprised of a bed with a sheet, a scale, and a plethora of hurting people. I felt out of place for more than one reason. For starters, I am white. Also, I was in nowhere near as much pain as many of the other patients. As the nurse began asking me questions I realized something else. Everyone at the hospital was indigenous. I asked the MOE Coordinator why that was. She responded that this hospital was for non-government workers and people that couldn’t afford the other “social security” hospital. So basically, I was in a welfare hospital with-in a Socialists country. Fantastic.

I was questioned by the nurse about the usual health things: age, weight, height, history of medical problems, French fry intake. That’s right, he asked me if I ate a lot of French fries. He asked this as if it were on the medical chart right below date of birth. I responded with a quick “no” but I have a feeling he might have checked yes anyway. I later asked the MOE Coordinator why I was asked this information. She responded that he was probably just curious to find out if this particular Gringo stereotype was true.

We were then ushered to another part of the hospital to wait on a doctor. We sat for about an hour without seeing any of the ailing older people enter the doctor’s office. We then saw the doctor walk out of the office and down the hall to a supply closet. The MOE Coordinator quickly got up and walked after her. After a quick conversation she came back to me and informed me that the doctor was just chit chatting with a friend. But the MOE Coordinator had told the doctor that I was sick and did not speak a word of Spanish and she was there to translate but could only wait for an hour. The doctor said she would be with me shortly, 58 minutes later to be exact. I was told to not to respond to the doctor and pretend as if I did not understand a word of what she was saing once we got in there. I accidently responded once but quickly acted as if I was speaking English rather than get caught and sent back out to the hallway.

The diagnosis ended up being that I had an infection and I was sure to get the flu the following day. I was giving a plethora of pills and told to go to sleep. Surprisingly the entire visit was free including the medication. I have mixed emotions about the whole thing. Yes, it was free medical care, but at what cost? The doctors were not motivated to help and one could tell the standard of care was nowhere near where it should have been. I have been informed by other volunteers that there are great hospitals in Quito and the next time I am sick I should just insist on medical care in one of those hospitals. To the doctor’s credit, I did get the flu the next day. I was doubled up in bed for 4 days and am just now fully getting over my cough. A friend of mine insists that bad things happen so that you can appreciate the good when it comes. I am sure that when I feel better I will rejoice in my new found health.

One more note on medical care. I spoke with the MOE Coordinator about medical care here in Ecuador compared to the US. I informed her that I knew of people that work full-time for 12,000 dollars a year in the United States because they receive medical benefits from the job. Her eyes widened at this statement. I later found out this was not because of the measly amount of pay but rather that doctors in Ecuador make roughly 1,000 dollars a month. Her shock was not due to the fact that people work in America for 12k but rather that this was an exorbitant amount of money. 

Note to self: don’t bring up American wages again…

I went back to school on Thursday of last week. Everyone was worried about me and had plenty of theories as to why I was sick. The overwhelming opinion was that I do not wear a scarf around my neck at all times. Others included that I swam in water that was too cold. Everyone had their own idea and who knows what the actual reason was. I am just hoping it doesn’t happen again.

Young man preparing his lips.

Video of Flag Ceremony

On Friday classes were cancelled for a ceremony that happens once a year for the graduating seniors. They are all lined up with military like precision and one by one were marched up to Ecuadorian flags. They then went down on one knee as if they are going to propose to the flag and then they kiss the flag in a symbol of patriotism. All of this was set to the beat of the large school band that played a marching song as the students went to show their patriotism. They are supposed to promise the country something of themselves. Then they are marched back to their spot in line. It was a very nice ceremony. The young men and women went up the flag with all seriousness and smooched away. I was very impressed with the level of dedication each and every senior had. I was expecting one or two to make light of the situation or only kiss the colors half-heartedly.

Marching in unison

This ceremony only served to remind me how traditional this society is. It had almost a romantic appeal to it. Rebellion is not in the vocabulary of the students and young people here. Yes, some students cut loose on the weekends and have a drink or spray paint some politically-motivated graffiti on a wall but mainly they behave the same as their parents. Authority is really not questioned here. I cannot imagine telling a group of American high school students that they have to kiss an American flag. How many students would really do this? By the time American students are 18 they have already begun their paths towards independence and free will. This is a value that we as Americans hold dear. The ability to question authority and identify what you believe is an integral part of being an American. Ecuadorian youth may not agree with everything that is said by their parents or school authorities but at the end of the day, they are all going to kiss that flag.

Flag ceremony

That evening I was invited to a party honoring a man that was receiving a lifetime achievement award for his work in the field of agriculture. This man had organized labor and brought a brighter future to many indigenous farmers. The ceremony concluded after 2 hours of praise for the man from the governor of the province, the mayor and many other prominent individuals in the community. I felt like high society that evening. Then the dancing began. A local artist serenaded the crowd of revelers and a very famous Ecuadorian band, “Casa De Cultura” played long into the night. It was a nice cap to a long week.

Traditional dance after the ceremony

Salud. Or at least in hope of health.

Ecuadorian Hospitality and Climbing Putzalahua

This past weekend held yet another lesson on culture for one of Ecuador’s newest and whitest residents. After the two days were finished I was physically exhausted, full to my eyeballs with Ecuadorian food and a bit red from the ever penetrating sun. I am just now beginning to recuperate.

Last week I went to an all day birthday party where I met a very nice family that invited me and a fellow volunteer to their house “anytime we wanted”.  They were very kind and seemed to be good contacts to have. Seeing as how we had nothing to do in the upcoming weekend we decided to call and accept the invitation to come to their house only six days after meeting them. I felt that it might have been an empty promise and was worried we might be calling a bit too soon. To my surprise they were ecstatic to have us come visit and so soon! We got the address of the house and a few more contact numbers and prepared for our whirlwind one day trip to Quito.

The family actually lives in Cumbaya, a suburb of Quito. Much like the song, Cumbaya is a very calm and relaxed. Oh and did I mention it is where some of the wealthiest people in Ecuador live? Yeah, after we realized where we were going I began to wonder what kind of experience was in store for us.

We left early in the morning on Saturday and embarked on our 3 hour trip. We arrived in the much warmer city of Cumbaya and waited in front of a large megastore for the family to pick us up. A man walked up and asked if we were Todd and Chelsea. Awkwardly we responded that we were and were quickly whisked into a nice car where the grandparents and the daughter were waiting for us. I realize that we as white folk stand out here but when someone comes up and already knows your name and who you are, it is a bit unnerving.

We made it to the house shortly thereafter. This house was amazing. It was in a guarded compound and the first thing I saw was the pool. We weren’t in Kansas anymore. We parked in the garage. That’s right, I said garage. I have not seen one here before this Saturday. Then we were escorted into the house. It was beautiful. The house had hardwood floors, three stories, and a magnificent view of the suburbs of Quito and the surrounding mountains. I tried to keep my jaw off the floor. What kind of Peace Corps experience was this.

View from the 3rd floor

Lunch was prepared for us and the rest of the family was about to arrive. We ate sandwiches and drank juice. I was happy that they didn’t go out of their way to make us a large meal. The parents arrived after lunch and we chatted for awhile. My friend had made a pie to give to the family. I made… drum roll please… Doritos. The family thought that was hilarious and because men here do not cook it was acceptable. They were very happy that we had accepted their invitation. We were asked if we had brought our swimsuits because it was time to swim. I packed my trunks in the anticipation of this offer. We were ushered to the pool and sauna both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.

After swimming we were told to shower and come downstairs for lunch. I had assumed that we had had lunch two hours earlier but as usual I never know quite what is going on here. An enormous meal had been prepared for the whole family. We ate a large cheesy soup followed by salad and fresh shrimp. Then we had the main course of spaghetti and French bread. Dessert was fresh fruit and whipped cream. It was all delicious and I was stuffed by the second course. I must admit that more than once I had to watch the family to decide what piece of the large array of silverware to use. This was a piece of knowledge that I did not think I would need to employ while in a developing country.

At the end of lunch we sat and chatted for about an hour. They, along with most Ecuadorians, love hearing about my family and where I am from. Both topics I am happy to talk about. I love the looks on their faces when I describe my city in Texas. They simply cannot believe people would live in a city that is flat, dry and dusty. When it was time to leave we let them know how grateful we were for having us there. They were pretty sad that we were not staying the night with them. They continually insisted that we could not leave. We promised we would return and stay the night at a later date. They turned this into a plan for us to stay a whole weekend and have the whole family together. They offered to drive us to the bus stop and we were happy to accept. Of course this meant we had to stop and get ice cream to delay our departure from the family. I offered to pay but they would have none of that. They then took us to the stop and we said goodbye and thanked them many many times.

I was amazed at the hospitality of this family. They had met me only a week before but I felt as if I was a member of the family. Despite the fact that this family was obviously very well off they still behaved like any other Ecuadorian family. They were very close to one another and were not arrogant or prideful. I am very proud to say that they are one of my new good friends. The grandmother kept hugging me and telling me how happy she was for us to be there. Ecuadorians walk arm in arm with people they are very close with. The grandmother walked with me in this fashion after only having known me for 3 hours. After she found out that my mom is coming to visit in October she insisted that we all stay with her. I thought she was just being nice but after the third time she mentioned it I knew she was serious. If her house is anything like her son’s I think my mom would rather enjoy that. She continually called me “my boy” when addressing me, in Spanish of course... This could also have been due to the fact that Todd is a ridiculously hard name to say in Spanish. I am hoping she just really liked me.

We got back very late in the evening but the bus trip was not very bad. My friend and I spent the ride chatting about how great and hospitable the family was. In the back of our mind I kept remembering that we had yet another very large day ahead of us.

On Sunday I woke up early without much rest and prepared a large strong cup of instant coffee. “Coffee, if it ain’t instant, it ain’t Ecuadorian”. Ecuador produces some of the best coffee beans in the world but for whatever reason, instant coffee is the craze. At my school the teachers use the drip coffee maker to make hot water to put into a cup and then add the granules of instant coffee. Appalling to all coffee drinkers, but it is what it is.

I headed to the central park of Latacunga at 7:30 in the morning. I walked around until I saw the man I was looking for. I recently met this guy and his wife at a literature night here in Latatcunga. While the poems and songs are in Spanish I can still appreciate the artistic prose. I told the guy that I wanted to climb a nearby mountain but didn’t have much information on it. In true Ecuadorian style he “Ok, let’s go this weekend.” So five days after having met this guy and his wife, I and another volunteer were about to be taken, by car, to the trailhead. The fact that we were taken by car was great. We assumed we would all take a bus but the guy told me that his father-in-law would be happy to take us. We all piled in to a very small car and headed off. We drove for about 20 minutes before arriving at a house on a hill. We all got out and were told to wait. Like always, I had no idea what was going on or about to happen. Then a large GMC 4x4 came rumbling up. We all piled in and headed off again. The man, my new friend, told me that the road is only passable by four wheel drive vehicles. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were going muddin’.

Cruising in the GMC. Can't beat 'Merican muscle.

The road got narrower and narrower. The rain didn’t help much either. We slowly crept up toward the mountain. The family kept calling the truck a “spider” because of the way it would lurch ahead with each touch of the gas. Other folks were making the same climb towards the mountain. Quickly we ran into a traffic jam. Trucks were stuck everywhere. It was very scary seeing the trucks slipping and sliding down the muddy road with large drops on one side. I was happy to get out of the truck and begin the hike.

We hiked for about 2 hours up the mountain, Putzalahua. I chatted with my new friend throughout the trip. He is somewhat of an intellect and enjoyed speaking and debating about socialism versus capitalism. He made some very valid points for his side and I feel that I did the same. It was refreshing to have an intellectual conversation in Spanish. The views along the hike were great. There were many indigenous people living high in the mountains and seeing them work in the fields and the housing always gives me a sense of humility. We made it to the top and soaked in the beautiful views. All around us the Andes rolled their hills out beneath us. I had yet another feeling awe when I thought of how lucky and blessed I am to live in such a beautiful place with such great people.

View from the top of Putzalahua

We had a picnic on the peak of sandwiches, chips and fruits. We took plenty of photos and then decided it was time to head down. When we got in the truck I realize just how exhausted I really was. I was struggling to keep my eyes open as my friend wanted to chat more. My weariness was a topic of conversation and great laughter in the truck as we drove back to Latacunga. We arrived back at his house and all piled out. I hugged each of them and thanked them profusely for taking us. I offered to help pay for gas but this family also would not have any of it. We are making plans to travel to another remote and beautiful spot 5 hours away next month.

Danilo and I

It is crazy to think that neither of these two families had not planned to host or hang out with two gringos this weekend but were more than happy to plan their weekend around us. The father-in-law most certainly could have spent his Sunday a better way than spending his time, money, and energy taking a friend of his son-in-law up a mountain but he was delighted to do it. The hospitality and genuine acceptance of new acquaintances here is incredible.

Couldn't resist taking a picture with this girl and her llama.

This is usually where I try to think of something witty or wise to say but honestly I am still too tired to think. So catch you on the flip side.

Sheep Fighting and a Birthday Party

After reading the title of this post you probably assume that I am going to write about two separate occurrences. Only in Ecuador do birthday parties include a sheep fight amid the festivities.

After a long week of working out kinks in my schedule and trying to persuade officials at my school what my actual job was I was ready for so rest and relaxation. This came in the form of a birthday party that a fellow volunteer and I were invited to. The Ministry of Education English Coordinator had invited us to celebrate her birthday in a near a small town named Pujilí about 45 minutes from my house. The birthday party began at 11:00 am in the city at a Catholic Mass in honor of her deceased parents. At the conclusion of the Mass the party moved to the cemetery to pay respects to her parents. Nothing says birthday fun quite like visiting a cemetery.

Up until this point my friend and I had a tough time actually finding the birthday girl. We walked from the church to the cemetery unaccompanied. Gringos stand out in any crowd here but on this day we got more than our share of stares. Dressed up white people walking from a church to a cemetery in front a slow moving procession tends to catch the Ecuadorian eye. Awkward moments abound here.

When we finally met up with the coordinator and her family outside the cemetery we were warmly greeted. I can not say enough about how genuinely nice, caring and community-oriented the people of Ecuador are. After all the introductions were made and tons of cheeks kissed we all hopped in cars and headed to a hostería where the party would continue. The location of the hostería was perfect. We were high in the Andes surrounding by lush green mountains. The site had a restaurant, spa, large gathering room and two pools. The skies were clear and promised good weather throughout the day.

Shortly after arriving lunch was served. We ate Chugchucaras, the famous plate from Latacunga. It consists of fried everything. Empanadas, pork, popcorn, bananas, and moté are on the plate and are all fried. Happy birthday was sung, the cake was cut and stomachs were filled. During lunch I had a good conversation with the brother of the birthday girl who lives in Quito. We chatted about where I was from and what I was doing. He was obviously an educated man and I appreciated the conversation. He even spoke broken English. By the end of the party he and his wife invited me and a fellow volunteer to come to their house in the coming months for lunch.

At the conclusion of lunch we were all escorted outside for “popular Ecuadorian games”. The first was a potato sack race. The man announcing the competitors was really hamming it up. My introduction to the field was something like, “Hailing all the way from the great state of Texas…. the amazing, the fantastic...TOOOD!” My name is very difficult to pronounce in Spanish. Even my debit card has my name spelled at “Tood”. We lined up and on the count of “Prepararse, Listo, Bueno” and we were off. After a mad dash I prevailed as the champion. I was given a small notebook and pen as my prize. Both will come in very handy because I am always in need of both.

We played a few other games but I did not have the same luck in these endeavors. My favorite was the “Baile Del Tomate”. This is a game where two partners dance while holding a tomato between their heads. My friend and I were coaxed into making fools out of ourselves. We practiced with the tomato wedged between our foreheads. When the time came to start we lasted a good 8 seconds and we were happy to have a seat. We also competed in a three legged race. We crossed the finish line close to dead last. Dancing began shortly after the games ended and prizes were handed out. I chose to rest and take in the moment. While watching the many couples that I had only recently met dance their hearts out I had a moment to reflect. I was out in a beautiful green field surrounded by lush mountains celebrating a birthday in a strange but fun fashion in a foreign country. I would have never imagined myself in that position two years ago. What a great opportunity I have to be in such a place with such great people. Even though I had not met 95% of the people before the party, I was already accepted and cared for by the majority of those at the celebration. True moment of bliss.

Now to get away from the sappy stuff and move to me fighting a sheep…

After the dance we were all ushered to a large pen that doubled as a volleyball court. As usual, I had no idea what was about to happen. The women were arranged and began walking into the large pen and parading around in a circle. Apparently this is the same a bullfight when the beauty queen of the city walks around the arena before the bull is brought in. A medium sized sheep lay in waiting. After the women scampered out the “bull” fighters descended into the pen. These were just men from the party that wanted to show their machismo side. Soon 10 men entered the pen and were being chased and hit by the sheep in a similar fashion as they would in a bull fight. The sheep behaved almost identically as a bull would. He would walk backward, scrape his feet and then charge. I got the nerve to jump into the fight. That round was a bit scary but mainly just fun. We all had some good laughs and the women cheered us on. Eventually the sheep tired and we all sat down. I had a great time “sheep fighting” and the Ecuadorians were happy to see my willingness to participate. I thought that was the end of it.

I was then made aware that the main event was about to commence. The bigger male sheep was about to be brought into the pen. I could tell this was a bit more serious by the anticipation that the small crowd seemed to have. Only two men went into the pen with their capes. This sheep meant business. I watched as the men did a pass or two before being chased out of the pen by the agitated sheep. A small group of women told me I should try. With much reluctance I worked up the nerve to enter the pen alone. My desire to be the center of attention got the best of me once again.

My heart was beating hard enough I could hear it. I grabbed a cape and prepared myself for death by sheep. The next 30 seconds are a blur but basically I practiced the same form that I had witnessed from the other men using. The sheep pawed the ground, backed up ten feet or so and then ran full speed at me. At the last second I stepped to the side as I had seen the others do and let the sheep slam head first into the cape narrowly missing my leg. As soon as I saw the sheep realize he had missed me I took off in a dead sprint to the wall with the sheep in hot pursuit. I am happy to say that I made it out unscathed other than wanting to wet my pants. I must say I think I heard more laughter during my Gringo sheep fighting experience than cheers but I will take what I get.

After the sheep fight, we went back inside and listened to a live performance by two local artists. They sang songs about Pujilí with pride and much to the delight of the audience. We then began to dance. Dancing here is much different that I am accustomed to. The DJ plays music non-stop and there are no apparent breaks. At the end of the hour and a half long session everyone was pouring sweat. So attractive. The CJ even played several classic American songs and I was expected to know the dances. I am unaware of the dance that accompanies “Rock Around the Clock” so I improvised with The Twist.

The party concluded around 8 pm after a mandatory firework show. Before I left I gave the mandatory kisses on the cheek to the women and a hearty handshake/hug to the men as is customary here. I promised several that I would stay in contact and then got into the car with a couple that offered to drive me the 45 min back to my house so I could avoid the bus at night. We chatted the whole way home. On that note, my Spanish has improved so much during my short time here. I am impressed with the brain’s ability to change and adapt so quickly.

All in all the party was great. I have never been to a birthday party that lasted nearly 10 hours and wasn’t sure what to expect. I certainly didn’t think that I would earn my stripes as a sheep fighter but I did. This was yet another wonderful experience to log into my memories of this great country.

Ecuador, you never know what to expect.

 

 

"Planting seeds”

I thought I would write a quick post about my second week and what I have been up to. The Peace Corps and other volunteers had warned us that there may be significant times of boredom or feelings of uselessness in the first few months of service and even throughout our two years. I have found this to be true.

I have created a work schedule that I will follow during my first three months. My schedule states that I attend/observe classes of my English teachers, work with my English teachers individually two hours a week, attend weekly English meetings, and spend time in the “Sala de Ingles” doing “personal planning” thirty minutes a day. From that list I have actually only attended/observed classes and spent time in the “Sala de Ingles”. At this point I believe that my English teachers don’t quite know what to think of me. Don’t get me wrong, they love me. We can chat for an hour about the kind of food I ate in the States and how it compares to here. They loved hearing how I have eaten “Cuy” here in Ecuador and yet I had a guinea pig when I was a kid. Another great topic of conversation is family life. My teachers are very curious about my family and my ability to leave them for so long. They think if you move ten miles away from you family you might as well be dead. 

If you know me well then you know I love to talk. This has been a tool for me to work my way into my school community and especially with my English teachers. The problem with all this idle conversation it that it is all in Spanish. While I do want to improve my Spanish as much as possible, I want my teachers to feel comfortable speaking in English in front of me. One of my main goals here is to improve the capacity of my teachers. This includes improving their English. I hope that after a period of time I will be able to break down that barrier but for now I guess we can keep talking about strange foods that I have never tried in Spanish. Whatever makes them happy.

I have been trying to find ways to keep my mind occupied and my days full. The weekends seem to be a lull in activity for me. Perhaps that is why I am writing this post on Sunday. During the week I have things to do and specific times that I need to do them, even if that means going and sitting in the English lounge and reading a book. Because I am so new to the city I don’t really have a grasp of what there is to do nor do I really even know many people. To pass the time I have began reading a good amount. I have read more books for pleasure in the last three months than probably I had in the whole year leading up to my service. Not always having internet has forced me to look elsewhere for entertainment. 

I decided to chart my path yesterday

14.5 km and 4 hours later

Even more than reading, I pass my time walking around the city and running at a small park nearby. Now when I have free time, more than I would like to admit, I walk. After classes I make a point to walk to a store that I haven’t visited yet to check it out. Most of the places I go into I simply look around and don’t really buy anything. I am sure I am a disappointment to many store owners who recognize Gringos as a source of moola. After two weeks of walking literally around the entire city, I feel that I am spatially aware of my surroundings and a few Ecuadorians are beginning to recognize me as not a typical tourist. This will probably become a source of frustration for me. While a few Ecuadorians may know who I am and what my cause is, I feel that most people of Latacunga will just assume I am another Gringo tourist passing through.

English Teacher Workshop

I am thankful however, that the Ministry of Education Coordinator on my province is on top of her game. She informed me and a colleague that we would be holding a three day English workshop for teachers of a nearby high school. When we first received this news we were flustered. We had just arrived at site and were not supposed to begin hosting workshops similar to this one until three months into our service here at site. We cautiously agreed and spoke to other volunteers that had given the workshop the week prior. We did not have to plan the workshop but simply needed to follow the outline provided to us. I am a king of improvisation and I took on the challenge. My colleague wanted to practice and have everything down before we started the “show”. I am thankful for her dedication and OCD tendencies toward perfection. If I were in charge of the preparation side, things would not have gone as smoothly as they did. Thank you for being anal-retentive, Chelsea. :D

Teacher demonstrating how to prepare "Pineapple Cheese"

The workshop went off without a hitch. The teachers were very appreciative and showed this by bringing us food every day. On the last day of the workshop the women gave a “how-to” presentation over anything they wanted. Of course, they almost all chose food preparation. You cannot imagine how many fried things were put on my desk during those presentations. I hope the women did not mind a few grease stains on their grading rubrics that we were frantically were filling out during their presentations. After they presented they took us out to eat. Nothing beats free food. The cherry on top of the experience came when three of the ladies from the workshop asked if my colleague and I would hold a workshop once a week with them. This was music to my ears. SOMETHING TO DO! We agreed and will begin next week. 

I am learning to be more patient. Even though I have only been in site for two weeks I am beginning to realize that my job here must come second. I have to build relationships and continually try to be a part of the community before I can consider getting to work and being a catalyst for change. After explaining my feelings of uselessness and boredom to my mother on the phone yesterday she hurried to grab her one of her favorite magazines, “Guidepost”, to read me a quote she thought might be of help. 

“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant”. 

Good words Momma.

Moving to site and first full week of "work"

Note: I have included two videos at the end of this post, simply click the links to view them.

I have finally finished training and been sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Three months of intense training concluded on April 4^th when we had a large ceremony that was attended by all the “higher-ups” in the Peace Corps as well as the Ambassador to Ecuador. It felt strange seeing everyone dressed to the nines in a developing country but I suppose it was a pretty big day for us. Our training consisted of language and culture, safety, security, health, and cross-cultural ideas. Many times we were all frustrated by the repetition and monotony of training. For instance, we had a two hour session from the medical unit about dental care. If I have made it this far in life without my teeth falling out, I feel like I can probably make it at least two more years. However, I do feel that the training staff did a very good job of preparing us for our service here. My hat is off to them.


Language facilitator that nicknamed me "Tood" after initially mispronouncing my name.

After the ceremony and an anxious day full of packing I departed Tumbaco and my host family for Latacunga. It was difficult saying goodbye to the Correa family but I won’t be gone for long. I have been invited back for my host sister’s first communion in June. Also, when I return to Tumbaco for conferences I will stay with them. They were a great help to me and taught me many more things that the Peace Corps could even begin to touch upon. This goes further to support my theory on education. You can be in a college classroom all day every day for four years but six months in the real world will teach you more than you could imagine. 

I left Tumbaco around two in the afternoon. The Peace Corps had offered a free ride to the southern bus terminal in Quito if you were willing to leave at 6 am. Free always sounds good to me. However, a friend of mine was headed to nearly the same location and I told her I would travel with her. She is very attached to her host family in Tumbaco and wanted to stick around until the afternoon. This was also due to the fact that we would only be traveling for three hours and did not really need to get up at 5 am to hit the road. At 2:30 pm we left Tumbaco. I came to Ecuador with two very full pieces of luggage. I could not imagine that I would have even more things when I left Tumbaco to go to site but that is exactly what happened. Luckily I had brought an extra duffel bag that I filled with new things acquired from the Peace Corps (mainly books). Looking at my bags I was not sure how easy this trip was going to be. My friend and I took a cab to the closest bus stop because walking with my nearly 125 lbs of stuff was not feasible.

We waited at the bus stop for about ten minutes. I have never felt more vulnerable. Literally all of my valuables were on me or near me. My friend and I were the perfect mark for a robber. We had been told that our passports were worth five thousand dollars apiece. This does not put one at ease. However, we got on the bus and to relative safety. We traveled to the southern bus terminal in Quito and made yet another awkward transition to another bus that put our nose south. We made it to Latacunga around 5 pm. I hailed a taxi and made it to my new house in a matter of minutes. I lugged all my things up three flights of stairs and I was home.

My host dad was not at home when I arrived. I spent the next hour or so organizing my things in my bedroom and bathroom. The apartment that I live in is nice. I have my own bathroom that is small but gets the job done. I have a medium sized bedroom that faces Cotopaxi National Park to the north. On clear days I can see the highest active volcano in the world, Cotopaxi. It has made me take pause more than once.

View of Cotopaxi from my window

I have a decent sized living room but no TV. My host dad is somewhat of an intellect and feels that the living room should be a place of conversation, not idle lounging. The kitchen is large but poorly stocked. This has been an issue that I have addressed during my first week. I have made many trips to tiendas and other shops to buy household things. My host dad is great. He is obviously very intelligent and is well liked by the community. He is also a talented musician. I think that we will get along just fine. My host dad does not cook for himself. He eats most every meal outside of the house. This is an economical choice for him as less hassle in the kitchen. This is an advantage that I have over other volunteers. Peace Corps Volunteers must negotiate a price to pay for each meal with their host family. Many times, money is saved by the volunteer in this manner. However, the volunteer must eat what is served and when it is served. I am able to buy the foods that I want and can eat at my leisure. I have missed eating salads on a daily basis as I did in the States. Now I will be able to resume that pattern. I might spend more than the average volunteer on food seeing as tuna and salad are pricier than rice and potatoes but at least I will feel fulfilled and get the nutrients I desire. I have already gotten very strange looks from Ecuadorians as ate my large, veggie-filled salad. 

My stove and "oven"

My first weekend consisted of organizing my things, shopping for necessary household supplies, and visiting a city nearby. It took me awhile but I finally have my room in order. I needed to buy many things to make this happen. It felt as if I were moving out of my parent’s house again and needed everything from hangers to pots and pans. On Sunday I went with my host dad to place flowers on the graves of his parents. He seemed happy that I wanted to go with him. We took the bus and explored the nearby city of Pujili. It is smaller and much more indigenous than Latacunga. My host dad was pleased to show me around his hometown and explain its history.

On Monday I went to work. I had met my teachers one time before during our official “Site Visit”. This was nice so that I was not completely blindsided. I still felt at a loss for what to do though. I was supposed to observe the classes of my teachers as well as speak with each teacher to determine their willingness to work with me. I quickly figured out that the teachers had no idea what my true job was going to be. I spent a little time with the teachers explaining my role. It was somewhat helpful but really I felt that they did not truly grasp it all. Nonetheless, I observed the classes spoke with the teachers and sat in the “Sala de Ingles” with them. I want my teachers to know I am here for the long haul and want to integrate as much as possible. A few have warmed to me but I am working on the others. Change is going to come very slow… 

I was warned that I should not come in with a tenacious attitude or have a desire to move the process along quickly. This is something that I finally realized is probably true. The teachers are happy that I am here and I do believe they want to learn. They do seem to be a bit apprehensive. I have dialed back my extraverted personality a bit with my teachers. I believe they will probably respond better to a person that listens more than talks. This is a far cry from the men at my school. They want to laugh and joke and practice their very poor English. I am happy to oblige them. It is a bi-polar school for sure. I hope that I am able to balance the two. 

After spending a few days in the school I began to see the bureaucracy and got a sense of the way things work. In this culture of indirect communication, very few things are spelled out. I found this to be true when, on Thursday, I was asked if I was ready for my meeting with the Rector of the school. I responded that I was not aware that I had a meeting. I was then informed that it was in twenty minutes and I needed to have my schedule prepared and made into a word document. This was a shock to me. First of all I had given hardly any thought to preparing a schedule. Also, the Rector is similar to the principal of the school however his position very elevated within the community. There is certainly an element of fear that his name imposes. I scrambled to put together a schedule that he might approve. I was told that the actual schedule was not that important. I could change it or not follow it too religiously and that would be fine. I simply needed to turn something in so paperwork could be shuffled. Much to my relief the meeting was cancelled and I was given another day to complete my schedule. 



Lunch celebration at a nearby restaurant with the faculty and administration

From Thursday until the weekend was basically a party. Saturday the 13^th was Ecuador’s Teacher’s Day. This meant that we would have a relaxed, music-filled, dancing celebration for the remainder of the week. I have been told that the Ecuadorian school system has many “fiestas”. If this week was any clue, this is no lie. In the early morning I was given a present by the 9^th graders at my school. I was given a ceramic horse that is actually kind of cool. Classes were canceled after 10:00 am and the party began. The faculty and administration went to eat “Chugchucaras” to commence the celebration. This is a plate that Latacunga is famous for. It is a plate of all sorts of fried everything. Pork, corn, pig skin, hominy, empanadas, chicharon, and popcorn are served on this very fatty plate. However, it is delicious. I can see why people here love it. Oddly enough, we left the restaurant that is nearby our school without paying. Chugchucaras are relatively expensive here, between 6-8 dollars, and I was surprised to see that immediate payment was not necessary. I asked a teacher who paid, she shrugged her shoulders and we left.

Grease and fat never tasted so good...

After lunch we returned to the school where instruments were brought out and singing, dancing, and drinking ensued. This is major adjustment for me. Seeing teachers drinking beer in the teacher’s lounge is very strange. It seems so taboo. Just like speaking about religion in the classroom and openly questioning people about their personal beliefs. I am working on viewing the world through their eyes at this point in hopes of gaining some understanding.

On Friday the party continued. The teachers played the students in soccer and equi-volley (volleyball with a higher net). After that we had a large lunch filled with music and dancing. The Vice-Rector asked me to dance to “Baila La Bumba”. I said sure despite not knowing what he meant. Apparently there is a dance to that song. I just went out there and acted goofy. People seemed ok with my dance and even began doing the same as me. I am sure it was very entertaining to see the white guy out there dancing like, well, a white guy… I met many new great teachers that work at a different campus. I was warmly greeted and even offered to go on a few trips with a pair of the more adventurous teachers that double as mountain guides. One man actually is a Boy Scout leader here and told me I was welcome to help out if I wanted to. We will see what becomes of this.

At the end my week I went to a city about 3 hours south of my town. The volunteers in a neighboring province had called for cluster meeting on our first weekend. I wasn’t too happy about leaving my city so soon but it turned out to be a great time. We arrived in Riobamba and met up with a few other volunteers and then headed into the “campo” or country near the Amazon. We stopped on a bridge in the middle of nowhere and began hiking up. We hiked along a river for about an hour. The scenery along the hike was magnificent. Forest covered mountains surrounded us on all sides and the river was rushing loudly beside us. It was a bit foggy but you could see a very large volcano ahead in the distance. I was told this was referred to as a cloud forest.



Cloud Forest where we hiked

After the short hour hike we arrived at a beautiful waterfall. It was probably 150-200 ft high. The water was gushing down the mountain to a small pool at the base where we had our meeting. After the meeting a group split off to go hot springs further up the trail. I and another two volunteers had to turn back due to time constraints and rules against night travel. Before we left however, I decided I should swim a bit. I threw my trunks on and headed down to the base of the waterfall. That waterfall was very powerful and more than that it was freezing. The other volunteers looked on and I refreshed myself beneath the waterfall. Oddly, they were not a bit jealous of my freezing cold act. After I had dried a bit we began to walk back down the trail to the desolate road. We apparently just missed the bus and had to wait another hour for the next one to pass. We spent another 4 hours getting home. All in all we took 6 buses and traveled about 7 hours on Saturday. It was a very long day but the views and companionship of my new friends was certainly worth the trip.

Yes, her shirt says YOLO. Cali girl...

Now that my first week has drawn to a close I am but content and apprehensive. I can now see the difficulties of my job and the dedication it will take to become successful in the slightest. I know that in the long run all will be fine but between now and then I need to buckle down and really get to work. The last 4 months have been full of changes and new experiences. I will no doubt have new experiences but for the foreseeable future this is my home. Knowing that this is my new permanent residence is both calming and alarming. I need to adjust to my new world with great flexibility and a good sense of humor. I suppose it is a good thing I am not lacking in either of these at this point.

Videos:

Wobbly bridge that went over the river

Waterfall