Corpus Christi all over again

No this is not a post about the city in Texas but I hope the title garnered a few extra readers.

The small nearby town of Pujilí had their annual festival this weekend. It is honoring the Holy Communion and is celebrated with a large parade, music, dancing and drinking. It is a rather well known celebration and dance teams from other South American countries come to show their stuff.

Last week my friend asked me to dance in the parade with him and his high school. I was happy to accept the invitation and showed up at his house early Saturday morning. There we ate a giant breakfast to “give us the necessary strength” to make it through the day. We gorged ourselves on “jugo de carne con huevos tibios” or meat juice with soft-boiled eggs. It seemed like too much food but in hindsight I probably should have eaten even more.

Dance group from last year

We donned our ponchos, indigenous hats and pounds of sunscreen and we were out the door. We arrived at the starting point and I was introduced as a special guest to the crowd. Our specific group was comprised of the parents of the students of the school. They were to dance with large stalks of sugarcane. I don’t know how many times I got hit in the face by the long leaves.

Danzantes

My position was up front with my friend and 3 teachers of the school. I asked the women how I was supposed to dance. I had accepted the invitation to be in the parade and at the last minute I realized I had no idea what I was supposed to do. The instructions given to me were simple, dance the way the music makes you feel. Clearly the Gringo heard the music differently than the rest of the group. There was a lot of arm flailing and shuffling to the beat from this guy.

Throughout the parade my friend would dart around yelling to the crowds and leaving me alone out-front. At times it appeared like a Gringo was leading the high school in the parade. In those moments I would yell to the crowd “Viva Corpus Christi” to which the crowd responded “Viva!” It felt odd yelling, “Long live the corpse of Christ” but when in Pujilí, do as they Pujilense do...

Can you spot the Gringo?

Dancing under the strong equatorial sun for more than 2 hours really took its toll on us. We were exhausted. At the terminus of the parade we congratulated one another and made our way back to the where my friends were watching the ongoing parade. I finally was able to sit down my and was just about to eat lunch when friend informed me that the dance team from his high school would be passing by and we should support them by parading with them past our group of friends.

Sure, why not?

Once I saw how happy my friend was to start the parade over again I realized what I had gotten myself into. Our small gesture of support turned into another 2 hours of dancing. People immediately recognized the indigenously-clad Gringo and no doubt wondered why he was taking a second lap. This time the dance was a bit different. Every 10 minutes we had to stop and pick people out of the crowd to dance with. This was always awkward and I tried to only pick women who would be eligible for AARP.

At the end of the second lap I was beyond exhausted. We once again returned to our friends who were watching the last bit of the parade. Once the parade ended we all went indoors for dinner. A bowl of chicken soup and fried pork awaited us. Fritada has never tasted so good.

Over dinner my friend and I were able to reflect on the day and entertained our friends with our tales. As we spoke I realized that this is what integration feels like. Even though I didn't even live there I felt a part of the community and a part of the family.

It is hard to believe that this was my second Corpus Christi and I won’t be here for the next one. I don’t know where the time has gone. I suppose as long as it is spent making memories like this it really doesn't matter.  

Corpus Christi, World Map, and Ecuadorian "NBA Finals"

 The last two weeks have been just as eventful as any other period of time here. My work weeks have been filled with attending my teacher’s classes and trying to work with them on their methodology. My work schedule was changed recently and now I work three morning shifts and two afternoon shifts. The schedule is difficult for me because I prefer to have a set routine. I suppose it is time for me to live up to all the talk I spouted during the application process about being “flexible”. Change and progress here will certainly come slowly but I can be patient. I think.

Many times when I feel that I am not being productive or useful I have moments of clarity when I look out my window at the snowcapped mountains and rolling hills that surround me and I remember how lucky I am to be here. Life is good and I need to remind myself of that fact from time to time. Another thing seems to always happen when I am feeling listless. A man that is probably in his late sixties crosses in front of my house two times a day. He uses arm crutches and has a very difficult time crossing my street due to the uneven sidewalks and steep curbs. If I see him resting and preparing to cross I hustle down to help him. As we laboriously cross the road we have a set script. I ask him how he is doing and the response is always the same. “Well, my legs hurt, my knees really hurt, my back hurts, I am tired and I am going to eat lunch with my daughter”. I am not sure if he ever remembers who I am but that is of little importance to me. While I sympathize with this man and his troubles it makes me feel somewhat useful on days that I am bummed out.

Cotopaxi from my bedroom window

On to more entertaining stuff. After I climbed Pichincha two weeks ago I got pretty ill. I ate at Mexican restaurant that was delicious but it turns out the savory taste was not worth the effects. I spent three days in bed and in the bathroom. After speaking with the Medical Unit of the Peace Corps I was given some drugs and eventually I began to feel better. My body is adjusting to Ecuador slowly but there are times that I get a shock to the system as I did in Quito.

Last weekend I went to a parade in a largely indigenous community, Pujilí, that is situated about 10 miles from Latacunga. The celebration is called Corpus Christi, or Body of Christ. I was invited by my Ministry of Education Coordinator to sit with her and her family. As usual I was welcomed with open arms by everyone in her large family. By the end of the day I felt as if I had many new friends. One man that I had met once before came up to me and saw a healing cut on my face that I recently got while running with my hand in my jacket (foolish, I know). He was appalled that I had not called him right when it happened despite that fact that I did not have his contact information. He, along with everyone else here was distressed over something that really needed little attention. Ecuador is community oriented. This cannot be overstated.

Group from Columbia

The parade started at 9:00 am. I expected it to last a few hours and then go eat some good street food. As usual, my expectations were way off. We settled into our seats and watched as the many colorful dancers and entertainers shuffled down the street. The cultures and traditions were on full display during the parade. Many groups donned the enormous headdresses that have been worn year after year during this parade. I was told the original headdresses from many years ago weighed close to 200 pounds. Of course they are much lighter and more maneuverable now.



Traditional Headdresses

The parade went on and on and on. I asked someone how long the parade would last and was informed it would probably last until 2:00 pm. That was fine with me. I was enjoying the parade and the company I was with. 2:00 pm came and went and the parade continued. The last portion of the parade was filled with dancers and groups from Peru and Columbia. One of the last groups to meander by was dressed as if they were from Mexico. Of course they were not but it was funny seeing Ecuadorians dressed up as Mexicans. At 4:30 in the afternoon, with my butt completely numb from the wooden bench I had been sitting on, the parade drew to a close. The festival was a lot of fun and I was glad I was invited to attend.

"Mexidorian"

Corpus Christi parade clip

 

 

This past week has been filled with acrylic paint under my nails. A fellow volunteer that has lived here for a year asked if I would help her paint a World Map at another campus of my high school. While new volunteers are really supposed to focus on settling in and less on starting projects, I jumped at the opportunity to “get my hands dirty”, plus I really love maps. The World Map is a project that many volunteers do around the world. It is a great way to teach geography and the English names of countries. There are countless activities that schools can use with this giant map.



Nearly Finished

We started on Monday by projecting the map on a large interior wall of the school. Throughout the week many students helped us trace, paint and repaint the map. I spent a good portion of my week at that campus working on the map with my fellow volunteer. She was really the boss lady and I sort of assisted. This was more than fine with me. She did a great job of organizing the whole thing and it was really cool to see a project go from an idea to a finished product. Though many students and teachers helped us paint, a majority of the school just stared at us. The male professors at the school would constantly come up and jokingly harass me or poke me when I was “in the zone” painting. The male professors enjoy having me around to joke with. I think the whole idea of being a volunteer is not the manliest thing to them. This machismo society is an odd thing. Where exactly I fit in on their hierarchy is somewhat of a mystery to me and possibly to them as well. But for the most part we all have a good time and they have welcomed warmly.

English teachers working hard on the Ecuadorian Map

The map came along fine throughout the week. On Friday a parent of a student showed up to help. It turns out he had some real artistic ability. He finalized a lot of the map and helped us mix colors to match what we had already painted. We asked him to paint a small Ecuadorian flag above the map. I assumed it would be a basic rectangular flag. Nope, in about 15 minutes he created a sweet flag billowing in the wind. Impressive. The map turned out great. It is a tangible thing that my fellow volunteer and I can be proud of. I encourage any currently serving volunteer to try it. I am not artist and the map turned out alright.

Awesome Improvised Flag

On Friday of this week I was invited but the male professors from my high school to go watch a professional basketball game here in Latacunga. Considering it the Finals are on in the States I figured I could use a little b-ball action. Latacunga was in the playoffs and the men were excited to go watch the game. I paid my three dollars to get in and we sat in the best spot we could find. When the players took to the court I was surprised to see so many white guys. It was explained to me that the teams here hire American players to compete during the playoffs. The other players were large Afro-Ecuadorians. I was hoping to see a bunch of stereotypically short Ecuadorians battling it out but that was not the case.

The game was very entertaining for several reasons. There was a large television screen that was streaming the Venezuelan soccer game behind one of the goals just in case you were bored with the game right in front of you. Also, watching the Gringos that were playing try to communicate with their teammates and coaches was hilarious. Hand motions and frustrated broken Spanish came from the white guys. I watched the same tall Gringo get two technical fouls because he was trying to explain to the ref that he did not foul another player. The ref assumed the player was spouting English profanities at him rather than simply pleading his case. Gotta love miscommunications.

Latacunga ended up losing the game pretty badly. In the final three minutes I watched as two Americans on the opposing team did some crazy alley-oops to rub the loss in Latacunga’s face. Oddly enough, when the final buzzer sounded the entire crowd erupted in cheers. All the men slapped me on the back and told me how great the game was. I am not used to celebrating a loss but these guys were just happy to watch such an exposition.

As usual the last two weeks have been full of new experiences and adventures. I am learning more and more that I still have no idea what is going to happen next. It is kind of like the more you know, the more you know that you don’t know anything. I am on a journey into the unknown and I know that I like it.