I never wrote about my mom's trip and the Galapagos Islands.
I waited anxiously for my mom to walk down the runway, took her to our hostel and went to bed. I could see how anxious but excited she was that first night, and I blabbered away showing her everything I had seen and learned and where I had been in my four months there.
The first morning we ate a typical Ecuadorian breakfast- eggs, juice, bread, coffee, etc, and headed out to meet up with Jeff. We took our parents on the Ecovia bus and his dad immediately was pickpocketed and lost $200 or so. Why he was carrying that much and why he put it all in the same place we're still not sure, but he quickly learned how life was in Ecuador and how careful you had to be. We went downtown, went up to the Panecillo to overlook the city and then went and climbed around the Basilica. Mom got a first class look at the taxis and the city- everything that went on and she seemed astonishingly okay with it all.
We went back to my host parent's house for lunch. They made llapingachos- potato pancake type things- not really sure what they are but they're delicious. Mom loved talking to my family, thanking them for being great to me, and they loved meeting her too. I was amazed how great their Spanish was and how these two worlds of mine could mesh so well. Mom got to meet everyone in the family, including Sammy and we had a wonderful time. That night we went to dinner with Jeff's family at Cafe Mosaico to overlook the city at night and had a lovely time.
The next day we just hung out, ate and went to Mitad del Mundo. It was a fun little journey out there, met Jeff's family and his host mom and walked around. Jeff thought his family would hate it and it's commercialism, but they loved it. Even though it's not the real one, it's still cool to be so close? Then we went back to the hotel, rested, met Jeff's family for dinner at Mamasomethingorothers where Jeff and I tried Cuy (guinea pig) because it was one of the things we had been meaning to do during our journey abroad. So we did. And it was gross. Just kind of slimy and fatty, not exactly appetizing but Jeff (a vegetarian) loved it. Then we headed on over to quiz night (THE LAST QUIZ NIGHT!) and everyone who came brought a family member if they were in town so it was kind of special. We ended up winning, don't tell anyone we cheated and they added up the score wrong, but it was cool to win on the last time. We weren't able to use our money very well but oh well. We still won! I had to say goodbye to everyone- Meaghan was by far the hardest and my eyes filled with tears. The people on my trip really enriched the experience and I can't imagine it any other way.
Then we headed off to Galapagos. I'll write about that later since I need to go study now.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
People
One of the most drastic differences is the way I look at people. I'm now able to see everyone as pretty equal. Everyone has faults, everyone has wonderful qualities. No one person is better than the other, but some think that. Some of the happiest people I've met were also the most economically poor, with tattered clothes and little to their name. This all sounds so cliche but it's so very true.
Take Anderson, for example. He was a five year old boy who came to the after school program at Munequitos school in Lumbisi, a small farming community not too far from the town where my university was located. His clothes never fit him, his shirt was always dirty, and the zipper on his pants always fell down. He was a little bit behind in school and never seemed very interested in learning, but he was so happy and loving. Maybe he just craved attention and the volunteers at the school were the only ones to give him some. He was always climbing over someone and sitting on someone's lap. I know he didn't mean to, but he just exuded love toward us. He just needed people and he made every day of volunteering more interesting and worthwhile. I still don't know the impact he had on me, but he made me feel needed.
I'm drastically more understanding and accepting of people's differences. Race, disabilities, language barriers, economic status, and other qualities that normally divide people are now purely people, and it doesn't matter their status in life because they're just people who are all special.
Everyone strives for something. A lot of people strive for money. We all need things in our lives- food, water, shelter, heat in the winter, and clothing. But to what extent do we have to have everything be fancy? It's nice to have a great meal, clean water, a space heater and nice clothes. But these are not necessities. As much as I try to eliminate material possessions from my life, I can't get rid of everything or many things. I wish I could, but I'm stuck in the material world and I am a material girl.
Some people strive for a good time. Most of the time that involves alcohol. That fact... is the same in both the US and Ecuador. I still realize I don't need it to have fun and everything that comes with it, but it's good to experience different things at different times. Lots of people all around the world do, but I only want to every once in a while.
I like differences. And change now. And that's a good thing.
Take Anderson, for example. He was a five year old boy who came to the after school program at Munequitos school in Lumbisi, a small farming community not too far from the town where my university was located. His clothes never fit him, his shirt was always dirty, and the zipper on his pants always fell down. He was a little bit behind in school and never seemed very interested in learning, but he was so happy and loving. Maybe he just craved attention and the volunteers at the school were the only ones to give him some. He was always climbing over someone and sitting on someone's lap. I know he didn't mean to, but he just exuded love toward us. He just needed people and he made every day of volunteering more interesting and worthwhile. I still don't know the impact he had on me, but he made me feel needed.
I'm drastically more understanding and accepting of people's differences. Race, disabilities, language barriers, economic status, and other qualities that normally divide people are now purely people, and it doesn't matter their status in life because they're just people who are all special.
Everyone strives for something. A lot of people strive for money. We all need things in our lives- food, water, shelter, heat in the winter, and clothing. But to what extent do we have to have everything be fancy? It's nice to have a great meal, clean water, a space heater and nice clothes. But these are not necessities. As much as I try to eliminate material possessions from my life, I can't get rid of everything or many things. I wish I could, but I'm stuck in the material world and I am a material girl.
Some people strive for a good time. Most of the time that involves alcohol. That fact... is the same in both the US and Ecuador. I still realize I don't need it to have fun and everything that comes with it, but it's good to experience different things at different times. Lots of people all around the world do, but I only want to every once in a while.
I like differences. And change now. And that's a good thing.
Language
One of the main things that has changed has my language abilities. I can now understand most people when they talk in Spanish, whether it's every 5th word or the whole conversation. It's especially fun when they don't think I know Spanish so they gossip and I can know what they're saying.
I now want to speak in Spanish any chance I have, want to use the random little phrases I learned from various people, and when I use those phrases, people give me weird looks but they became so natural for me to use.
Spanish is a great, structured language so I feel better about writing in English too. I don't know if I am, but I try to be.
I now want to speak in Spanish any chance I have, want to use the random little phrases I learned from various people, and when I use those phrases, people give me weird looks but they became so natural for me to use.
Spanish is a great, structured language so I feel better about writing in English too. I don't know if I am, but I try to be.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Time for Reflection: School Days
As I sit here, listening to "Papa Americano" and "Loca" and reflect on my time in Ecuador, thousands of images and thoughts rush through my head. I've been gone for 3 months and I've gradually been able to see the changes in my life. The way "Papa Americano" would play every single time we went out to the bars, how annoying it was at the time but how very comforting it feels now. Surprisingly I hear that song often here as well, but it will forever remind me of Whyna or whatever the bar was where they served $1 Cuba Libres (wonderful).
But then thousands of images of scenery I tried not to but took for granted rush through my brain. Even my journey to school was memorable. The way I would greet the bellman in the morning, walk up the hill and slide my feet on the sewers and painted sections along the way. If I was lucky, I could cross Eloy Alfaro and walk down it the whole way to De los Granados. Most days I wasn't so lucky, so I would walk down the sketchy dirt path, looking at the trash along the way and be completely immersed in the smell and filth that came from the diesel exhaust and would stretch the entire road. Men would constantly be hooting and hollering at me, saying "Hola bonita," or "Hola princesa," or my personal favorite "Tss tss tss." People would sell antennas, mandarins, cell phone cases, and any other random household item for a dollar in the middle of the street. Everyday I would see the black man smoking a cigarette sell his newspapers, the nice ladies at their little booth selling everything from crackers and candy to phone minutes. I would hop on one of the big green buses with the men, and occasional woman, yelling "Tumbaco Tumbaco" or "De la Reina del Sol" or other neighboring towns. Some days I would marvel at the scenery- the mountains and the cliffs, the signs, the houses, the colorful buildings, what people were selling that day, if the Hello Kitty bed sold yet (which it did around October because it wasn't there anymore) and knew I was in Ecuador. The best days for going to school were clear days toward the beginning of the trip where I could see Cotopaxi clearly in the distance, as well as the two other mountains- Cayambe and Itchimbimba maybe? Eventually someone would come and grab the random quarter or nickels and dimes I had. Sometimes people would sell mandarins, $1 knock-off DVDs, jewelry and the occasional empanada to the fellow bus riders.
Then I would jump off the bus in Cumbaya, just past the Fybeca drug store, in front of the Supermaxi. Then make my way across the street to the shopping center, which was especially difficult after they set up the traffic light so you had 20 seconds to run across 5 lanes, but always made it. Walked past the taco stand, Bigote (mustache) coffee shop, Banco Pinchincha, the Rastafarians selling various forms of bracelets, and saunter into the paradise which was Universidad San Francisco de Quito. A sort of Laguna Beach, a place that was so luxurious buried within the mountains and poverty of the rest of the country. It is the only liberal arts university in Ecuador, has the largest library (2 small floors) and is the most expensive, so only the very rich can go there. I can probably speak for everyone who went there that the academic side of USFQ was not nearly as demanding as our universities in the USA, even with the language barrier.
These small details are so rich and inviting, even after being away for so long. Simply going to school was an adventure. What a way to live.
But then thousands of images of scenery I tried not to but took for granted rush through my brain. Even my journey to school was memorable. The way I would greet the bellman in the morning, walk up the hill and slide my feet on the sewers and painted sections along the way. If I was lucky, I could cross Eloy Alfaro and walk down it the whole way to De los Granados. Most days I wasn't so lucky, so I would walk down the sketchy dirt path, looking at the trash along the way and be completely immersed in the smell and filth that came from the diesel exhaust and would stretch the entire road. Men would constantly be hooting and hollering at me, saying "Hola bonita," or "Hola princesa," or my personal favorite "Tss tss tss." People would sell antennas, mandarins, cell phone cases, and any other random household item for a dollar in the middle of the street. Everyday I would see the black man smoking a cigarette sell his newspapers, the nice ladies at their little booth selling everything from crackers and candy to phone minutes. I would hop on one of the big green buses with the men, and occasional woman, yelling "Tumbaco Tumbaco" or "De la Reina del Sol" or other neighboring towns. Some days I would marvel at the scenery- the mountains and the cliffs, the signs, the houses, the colorful buildings, what people were selling that day, if the Hello Kitty bed sold yet (which it did around October because it wasn't there anymore) and knew I was in Ecuador. The best days for going to school were clear days toward the beginning of the trip where I could see Cotopaxi clearly in the distance, as well as the two other mountains- Cayambe and Itchimbimba maybe? Eventually someone would come and grab the random quarter or nickels and dimes I had. Sometimes people would sell mandarins, $1 knock-off DVDs, jewelry and the occasional empanada to the fellow bus riders.
Then I would jump off the bus in Cumbaya, just past the Fybeca drug store, in front of the Supermaxi. Then make my way across the street to the shopping center, which was especially difficult after they set up the traffic light so you had 20 seconds to run across 5 lanes, but always made it. Walked past the taco stand, Bigote (mustache) coffee shop, Banco Pinchincha, the Rastafarians selling various forms of bracelets, and saunter into the paradise which was Universidad San Francisco de Quito. A sort of Laguna Beach, a place that was so luxurious buried within the mountains and poverty of the rest of the country. It is the only liberal arts university in Ecuador, has the largest library (2 small floors) and is the most expensive, so only the very rich can go there. I can probably speak for everyone who went there that the academic side of USFQ was not nearly as demanding as our universities in the USA, even with the language barrier.
These small details are so rich and inviting, even after being away for so long. Simply going to school was an adventure. What a way to live.
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