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.  

Viva el Capitán!

This morning if you had told me that instead of a normal co-teaching and co-planning day at my high school I would be dancing on an Ecuadorian military base I would have thought you were crazy. I had already made plans with my teachers and planned to have a meeting in the afternoon with the English Area.

At 7 this morning a teacher called me frantically and directed me to get my "Mama Negra" military uniform and get to school as soon as possible. The avid reader of this blog, mom, will remember that "La Mama Negra" is the annual festival in Latacunga held in November. I was invited to take part in the parade last year and had a uniform made to fit my Gringo-sized body. I remembered the men saying that we should keep our uniforms handy throughout the next year in case we were asked to represent the high school at some city wide function. Apparently the authorities got the call this morning, cancelled school and assembled the ranks.

I was lucky enough to be one of the 12 selected by the authorities to march/dance at the military base outside of Latacunga today. I hurriedly packed my uniform and rushed to school. There we rehearsed the march that we had done for the parade. For the parade in November we practiced for almost 3 months beforehand. Today we practiced for less than half an hour. I was a little rusty but soon got back into the swing of things.

Chiva time!

We then loaded ourselves into the "Chiva" and drove the 20 minutes to the military base. When we arrived we were told why we had been asked to come. The women of the Ecuadorian military were at the base. There were about 150 women that were in the military and maybe 50 wives of the upper echelon of the Ecuadorian military. The women were taking a tour of the base and we were there special surprise at the end. We marched in with the military band and did a few laps around the gym where the women had ended their tour. Then we went into our dance routine. Soon our ranks broke and the women mobbed us with cameras. Not to be too modest, but the women really liked the Gringo in uniform.

Can you spot the Gringo?

After half an hour of photos and dancing we loaded back up into the open-air party-mobile and headed back to campus. The women of the school awaited us at the gate and rushed us into the school and told us all to get changed ASAP. Unbeknownst to me, the authorities didn't get permission to leave the school from the district. Our whereabouts had been found out and someone had made a police report that all the authorities had left the school and were dancing at the base. Apparently driving through the center of town wearing gaudy uniforms and shouting  is not the sneakiest way to get from one place to another.



Things blew over quickly once someone from the district arrived and observed that we were all in the school where we were supposed to be. Appearance is everything. The case was also made to the district that even if we weeerrrreee at the base, we were just being patriotic.

I think she is probably in Recruiting

It seems like every time I get into a routine and start to think I know what is going on here south of the equator something  like this happens to put me back into my blissfully ignorant place. And you know what, I wouldn't like it any other way.

Seeing my world through a 1st world lens

At a lookout point in Cuenca

My mother recently came to Ecuador to visit her favorite son. She and a friend were here for 12 days. We were able to travel a little bit around Ecuador and take in some sights and absorb a bit of the culture. I could write an entire post about the things we did and where we traveled but instead I would prefer to write about the impression that Ecuador left on my visitors. 

I have been in country for about 10 months now and have pretty well settled in. Things that seemed strange or difficult to deal with have now become the norm. I am no longer surprised by things that shocked me upon arrival. The reactions that my mom had to my day to day world were intriguing to say the least.

There were many things that I knew would surprise her here such as lack of air conditioning and heating, non-potable water, and bus transportation. These were to be expected. However there were far more “unknown unknowns” that popped up along the way. For example, I had forgotten the dependency that my mother has on Diet Coke. Seemingly every half hour I would have to venture out and search for the rare drink. “Diet” anything is not in high demand here. Lack of refrigeration and ice were a major issue when it came to this sacred drink as well. By the end of the trip mom had sworn off Diet Coke until she reached American soil where she could get a proper fountain Diet Coke. I can only imagine the trumpets that played in her head during that first sip of DC she had in Miami!

Mom even tried Cuy! (Guinea Pig)

Another comical example would be the lack of toilet paper in this country. I cannot tell you how many times my mom asked if there was a paper shortage here in Ecuador after returning from the bathroom. The bathrooms here largely do not have toilet paper. It is necessary to carry extra “important papers” most everywhere you go. I might have failed to mention this to my mother and her friend upon their arrival. After each trip to the bathroom they would report back whether or not it was acceptable and would rejoice if they were lucky enough to encounter both toilet paper and a toilet seat. It is the little things in life.

This pretty accurately describes the energy level after 8:00 in the evening

There were also other, less humorous, differences that my visitors noticed. We spent a considerable amount of time in my site, Latacunga, meeting my friends, seeing my work and where I live. When I took them to the school where I worked last year I thought little of the state of disrepair it was in. We walked around some of the classrooms and I explained a few of the difficulties that my teachers face. Having close to 50 high school students in a cramped room with open windows is not the most conducive learning environment but it is what we deal with here. I explained that I no longer think about my old American classroom. It is not that I don’t miss it; I simply have accepted this job and it’s restrictions as my reality. This, I told them, is now my life. 

As we walked around the school I noticed my mom and her friend were in a state of disbelief. At one point one of them said something to the effect how the school was in such bad shape and how it would be impossible to hold classes in such a place. This caught me off guard. Like I said, the school and its teachers are my reality and I have a sense of pride about the place. I wanted to make a stand for my school and defend it. Then I remembered back to when I arrived and the way I viewed everything here. It all was so backward and things seemed pretty hopeless. Now that I have been here for a considerable amount of time and know the people, I don’t constantly think about how rough life is. Granted, there are many days that are tough and lonesome but on the whole I am happy working and living here. The people here make it all worth it. 

For me it is wild to think about how much my thinking and my life has changed since moving here. I don’t constantly think about the lack of American commodities and luxuries. I no longer walk by the men peeing on the street and make a disgusted look and think how primal they are. I do not find it odd that 5 year olds are on almost every bus selling gum or asking for money. When I see drunken zombies walking around at 10 in the morning I do not cross the street and avert my gaze to avoid being near them. My desensitization is not fully complete but has come a long way. I am not sure that it is positive or negative change but it is a necessary one to live in a developing country. 

My boss and her family took us to Quilatoa

My mother was able to meet most of my Ecuadorian friends at a local market the following day. Despite the travel and beautiful sites we saw, she told me this was the best day of the trip. My mom likes to worry about me but she said she felt much better about me living here after meeting such great people that were in my life. It was great seeing the interactions between my mom, who speak NO Spanish, and my Ecuadorian best friends and co-workers. My English teachers threw a little party my guests when they visited the school. They all said very nice things about me and our work together. While they probably would have said nice things about anyone who brought their mother to school, it was still very nice to hear. 

Having my mom here was great. I was happy to host her and allow her to see a glimpse of my life. It taught me several very valuable lessons. My life here is much different than my previous life in the States, I am even more adaptable than I thought, and I have the best, toughest momma in the world. Oh and the most important lesson, if you are having two American women visit you, remind them to bring toilet paper everywhere you go or you are liable to have two very upset Gringas on your hands…

I found DP!!! 3 bucks though....

Mitad Del Mundo

Ladder to the top of a church. Like I said, tough momma

Schools out for summer!

The school year has drawn to a close here in the Andean region of Ecuador. Students were released this past Friday with only a small percentage staying for “supletorios”, or summer school. Similar to the United States, teachers are required to stay and “work” at the school until the end of July. I have heard that this period of time largely includes card playing. Maybe instead of methodology training I can teach Bridge to my English teachers. The faculty will have a little less than a month off before returning for a few more weeks of cards then we resume classes in September.

Not quite Ecuadorian children but a great photo nonetheless

I, as a volunteer, am expected to work through the vacation period. I plan on spending much of this “free time” working on Community Assessment Tools that I must present to the Peace Corps during a conference in August. These “tools”, no pun intended, are rather involved. I am to interview around 50 families in their homes, conduct surveys in my school community, and poll my counterparts about what exactly the needs are in my specific community. This process is supposed to guide me to new projects and to gain a better perspective of my community and what my role might be in community development. Personally I think CAT is for volunteers to meet their community and further help with integration. I am all about meeting new people.

In addition to CAT I plan on continuing to work at two local universities. UTC and ITSA have extended offers to me to work with a few of their English courses. I began working at each university three weeks ago. I really enjoy working in an academic setting with students who want to learn. Working in the university is fueling my professional dream of becoming a professor in the US. iYo sí puedo!

I have been working with visually impaired students at the Ministry of Education on a weekly basis. However, they also are now on vacation. This particular job requires a lot of creativity. Every week I try to think of new activities to aid me in teaching English to these students. As one can imagine there is not much material on the internet for this very specific task. Maybe I will make my first million by selling my lesson plans.

I went back to Cumbaya recently after a friend invited me to come to his son’s 15^th birthday party. Eager for cooked food and good company I accepted his invitation. Cumbaya is a well-off suburb of Quito that is home to the movers and shakers of Ecuador’s capital. I expected a warm greeting upon my arrival to the family’s house as I was given one month ago when I visited. Instead, the grandmother of the family scolded me for not calling or visiting the family sooner. It is strange being hugged and chastised at the same time. This was more or less repeated by every member of the family including those I had never met before.

I had bought a t-shirt to give to the birthday boy but absent mindedly left it on the bus. I had shown it to another member of the family the day before so at least it was known that I had tried. In hindsight, it was probably better the birthday boy didn’t see my gift. It was a knock-off Vans t-shirt. “Chimbra” or fake clothing is very popular in Ecuador but within the gated community of Cumbaya my gift might have been judged a bit harsher.

We all sat down for a 5 course lunch. I still do not know which spoon or fork to use with each course. I was excited because they told me we were eating Lasagna as the main dish. As with every meal here we started with soup. Salad followed shortly thereafter and then on to the main course. It looked absolutely delicious. I cut into my lasagna and to my surprise the meat was hot-dogs. I tried to hide my surprise and ate it happily. Ecuador, you never know what to expect.

Before lunch we all watched a “Toros del Pueblo” from the roof of my friend’s house that was being hosted in Cumbaya. This is basically a bull fight that anyone could participate in. BYO Cape. I was assured that the bullfight was safe and no one would be seriously injured. Those horns still looked pretty sharp.  

I did not bring my camera to the bull fight so this pirated photo from Google will have to suffice

The prize for the best bullfighter was a large pizza. I assumed I heard incorrectly but a man standing next to me reassured me that it was indeed the prize. Many of the men that jumped into the arena had obviously had a bit too much “liquid courage” in their quest to for a large ham and pepperoni. One heavy-set man in particular stood out. He did not bring a suitable bull-fighting cape but used his black and white poncho instead. He would stumble around the arena until he had the bull’s attention. Then as the bull prepared to charge the man would have a moment of clarity and run at a drunken full sprint to the fence. Twice he launched himself at the fence only to collide with it as the bull was in hot pursuit. He would climb the fence quickly and both times he did a front-flip over the top of the fence and landed square on his back. This brought great cheers from the audience and from me as well.

I had a great time watching this exposition and even had a very small desire to participate. However, I think the Gringo will stick to sheep-fighting for now.

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.