September 19, 2006 8:30 PM

An update on how school is going…

If I’m being honest, life at school is really hard and fills me with doubt on a regular basis – doubt about my ability to teach, doubt about my choice to come to Ecuador for so long, doubt about my choice to quit my job to go back to school to become a teacher. There are days (like yesterday, for example) when I have to hold back tears when I’m in front of the kids because I feel like such a failure at what I’m trying to accomplish here. I have to fight urges to give up and run home where I’m appreciated. Kids can be so mean, and although I try to rationalize their behavior and not take it personally, it’s really hard not to. It doesn’t matter that I’m 31 years old, when I’m told that life will be better after I leave, I can’t help but be hurt.

But then there are days like today – days when the kids can’t give me enough affection and hang on me not wanting me to devote my attention elsewhere. Today was a great day. We were visited by nurses from Otavalo who came to administer vaccinations to the children and their parents. So rather than try to keep the kids focused on subtraction while they were freaking out about getting shots and while their parents were all over the school, we let them have a fun day. So I became the human jungle gym to a bunch of little ones, the pusher of swings to the bigger ones, and the calmer of vaccine shots for everyone.

I’m beginning to realize that I can’t be so hard on myself and I must not take things so personally if I’m going to be successful here. I’ve set really high expectations for myself, and I think not meeting those expectations everyday has taken its toll. And it’s not that my students can’t achieve, they certainly can, but it’s unfair of me to expect change overnight. So I’m working toward more realistic expectations for myself and them, and I continue to try different approaches. As bad as some days are (and man, some are HORRIBLE), I still look forward to trying again with my kids, hoping that each day will offer me a fresh start. And I do think that my students and I are beginning to understand one another more, so that’s helping smooth things out.

So in other words, it’s all good. At least it is today

September 17, 2006 6:30 PM

Before I write my next sentence, I have to first say that I’m alright, and there’s no need to worry about me. Today I was in a car accident, and considering the way people drive in this country, I count myself lucky that it was minor and no one was hurt. Had the accident been the entire story I would have kept it to myself, as I know Jon is worried enough about me, and I would have preferred to conveniently forget to tell him about this little mishap. However, the adventure was too crazy not to recount, so it’s yours for the enjoyment.

But let me back up a bit. I spent this weekend in Quito with another volunteer, Shadi, who came in earlier in the week. She’s super cool and we hit it off right away, so when I heard she was heading into Quito I decided to tag along. We spent Saturday walking through historic Old Quito and then took the Teleferiqo – a cable car that ascends to 4100 meters and offers an amazing view of the city. It was really an enjoyable day, although I didn’t accomplish my goal of picking up some new books. I’ve been tearing through the ones I have and I’m almost out of pages. Anyway, last night we had dinner at a Thai restaurant (the first flavored food I’ve eaten in six weeks, no joke) and headed back to our hostel pretty early – although we stayed up super late joking and giggling for hours.

This morning started off innocent enough. Shadi and I joined Chrissie and our three new volunteers who’d arrived the night before for breakfast and then headed out for the typically uneventful trip to Otavalo. We stopped at the Mitad del Mundo museum for the customary cheezy equator pictures (I stayed in the car). Our problems began as we worked our way out of Quito. We all noticed that we seemed to be going in circles. Finally we learned that due to a blockade by local buses of the main route out of Quito, we would have to take secondary roads to Otavalo, extending our trip by an hour or so. No big deal – this is South America after all, and no one really raises an eyebrow to a road blockade (paro) here.

In case you’re curious, this particular paro occurred because the one bus company that runs the route north from Quito faced competition from another bus company that decided to make the run as well. Apparently this wasn’t acceptable to the first company, so many of its buses were sent to park in the middle of the Pan Americano highway in order to prevent all traffic from flowing. I think the other company followed suit. At some point much later the whole thing disbanded, I have no idea what resolution, if any, was achieved.

Ok, so we seemingly started to make progress – that is until our van ran into the back of the pickup truck behind which we too closely followed. And then of course the car behind, which was also driving too close, careened into us. The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion, and strangely enough, didn’t elicit any sounds from the eight passengers in the van. We all looked around at each other, realizing what had happened, while at the same time checking for injuries. We were all fine, as was everyone else involved.

The police were on the scene within a minute or so – and not just one or two, but 10 or so. Even with my limited Spanish I could tell that each person was trying to convince the police that the accident was the fault of someone else. Meanwhile we waited outside as things got sorted. Well, after 30 minutes and an attempt at driving the badly damaged car, it became clear that we would have to catch a bus back to Otavalo.

A tiny aside about transportation in Ecuador… 1) Buses can be flagged down at any point on the route, and passengers may also be dropped off wherever. 2) Buses very rarely actually stop to pick up or drop off said passengers, they slow somewhat and expect a well-aimed leap on or off. (Thankfully, we had the police on our side and a bus stopped to allow the six of us to join a bus making its way from Quito to Túlcan). 3) Each bus has a driver and an assistant who’s in charge of helping passengers make the well-aimed leap, collecting their money, and changing either the CD or DVD playing in the bus. 4) There isn’t a schedule per se, but a mad dash attempt to arrive at the final destination as quickly as possible, which involves passing every possible vehicle, regardless of the terrain (blind curves) or oncoming traffic (the occasional semi).

We piled onto the bus only to find out that there weren’t enough seats for all of us. No biggie, thought I, as I’m used to crowded public transportation. However, the aforementioned assistant indicated that there are two seats up front with the driver. Cool, no standing. Shadi and I made our way to the very front of the bus, and I clearly saw one seat next to the driver, which I offered to Shadi, figuring I could stand next to her. No, no, indicated the driver, I was to sit between Shadi and him. This was a bit confusing, I must say, as all I saw was a small cushion directly behind the gear shift. Ok, I’ll sit there and find some contorted way of keeping my legs out of the driver’s way. Again, the driver indicated I’d gotten it all wrong, I was meant to STRADDLE the gearshift, and he was meant to operate it between my legs.

It is impossible to describe how incredibly funny this set up was. José, the driver, had his hand closer to my nether regions than any other man since I met Jon. And let me tell you, second gear got pretty personal. However, José was the perfect gentleman, never once taking advantage of the situation, and he too saw the humor in having two Gringas up front with him, in one of whose crotch he had his hand. And I was stuck in this position for 2 hours! But I chatted with José and the assistant, was spared the ­­­ viewing of Rats 2 which the other passengers had to endure, and had the hair-raising vantage point to watch how bus drivers here pass at any cost. At one point I mentioned to José that one accident a day is my limit, hoping he would tone down his driving (he didn’t).

I think that was the most authentic Ecuadorian experience I’ve had so far, inasmuch as that would never happen back home. And the craziness of the set up almost made the accident worth it. This is by far my favorite story so far, so if I had to go through a minor fender bender to get it, I’m cool with that. And aside from being a little bit sore as a result of the accident, I’m fine, and so is everyone else.

September 10, 2006 10:30 PM – An End to Yamor

I had every intention to get to bed early after a quiet night at home. But after I headed into town to update my blog at the internet café, I ran into Tom and Charlie who invited me for a drink. After a beer and a few rounds of Shithead (a popular card game among travelers that I’ve learned down here), Chrissie showed up and said we were missing the closing fiesta of Yamor. The four of us headed up to Parque Bolivar to find a fabulous band and a very enthusiastic crowd. We did our best to keep up, although our Salsa skills weren’t up to snuff. But when it came to doing the pogo to a Spanish version of the 80s hit, “Gloria” I did just fine. And Tom won a dance contest – or at least made a big enough fool of himself to win over the crowd. We all had a great time with the locals. What a fabulous end to a great weekend.

September 10, 2006 4:00 PM

What a beautiful weekend! I spent the last two days with my host parents at their farm in the cloud forest, four hours from Otavalo (and west of Quito). Home to orchids, butterflies, vine-draped vegetation and mist, the cloud forest in Ecuador is a region of amazing biodiversity. Hector and Rosario are in the final stages of building a hostel for ecotourism to which they plan to devote their retirement. The accommodations are extremely simple, but comfortable. Bug spray is a must and still didn’t keep me from being eaten alive – maybe I should have taken those malaria pills after all. And the views are just unbelievable. The area is lush and green even now in the dry season (it did rain both days, not too dry to me). The mornings and late afternoons are characterized by a rolling mist that makes its way down the mountains, and in between the sun shines in a blue sky.

We arrived late Friday night, so I really couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the region through which we drove. Although I could appreciate the dirt road we traveled for 45 minutes as I bumped and jostled in the back of the 4x4. Saturday morning we all woke up early and enjoyed cups of coffee, and bowls of papaya and bananas – all grown on the farm. I was then treated to a tour of the area to include a few schools, villages, and an explanation of local flora and fauna – some of which I actually understood.

I also visited a produce co-operative run by a cousin of Hector’s (everyone seemed to be his cousin in this place, which I guess isn’t difficult when you have ten siblings) so the explanation and tour I received was pretty full-on. I learned about how the co-op works to set prices and create a more efficient way to bring goods to market while still being fair to the local growers. Aside from different kinds of beans and corn, the co-op also sells crafts made from loufa. Up until yesterday, I a) assumed that loufa was a sea vegetable, and b) that all it was good for was sloughing off dead skin in the shower. Well, how wrong I was. First of all, it’s actually the fruit of a plant that is native to this part of Ecuador and it can be used to make all sorts of things: sandals, lamp shades, dolls, and even manger scenes.

Also during the day Rosario and I went swimming in a very cold river with a bunch of local kids. Afterward we enjoyed lunch at a small restaurant, or sorts. It was actually more like someone added a few extra picnic tables to their dining room and everyday invited people to come in for the meal being cooked. The twelve people there all got the same thing, including a chicken soup in which one lucky guy at our table ended up with the chicken’s foot. I spent the afternoon lounging in a hammock, reading and dozing, and the evening playing cards with Rosario and Hector. It was awesome.

We left mid-morning today and the drive back was stunning. Had I been the one driving, we never would have gotten back. I would have had to pull over every five minutes to get out and take pictures. As it was I went home with over 200 pics from not even two days. We did make two stops through – the first to visit an archeological site dating back to before the Incas conquered (what is now) Ecuador, and a roadside restaurant that served the biggest empanadas I’ve ever seen.

So now I’m back in Otavalo feeling well-rested and ready for another week of my little angels at Muenala.

Pictures!!!!

So I've finally figured out how to add pics to this thing. And because I'm a little lazy, I don't feel like going back and inserting where appropriate, so I'm just going to add a few favs here.

September 8, 2006 4:30 PM

So guess what? I’m not the worst teacher in the world. I didn’t know whether I would bounce back from yesterday, but thankfully I closed out my week with a wonderful day with my kids – although I didn’t think that would be the case when I arrived at school this morning. Yesterday I withheld fruit at the end of the day to the biggest trouble makers. And today I was definitely still getting the evil eye and the angry 11-year old girl treatment (something I perfected, as my parents and teachers can attest). For the entire walk to school I smiled and laughed when I was mimicked and made fun of, committed to my new found optimism that I could kill them with kindness. But it was hard. Kids can be mean.

However, the teaching gods smiled on me this morning. When I got all my kids into their classroom I informed them that I had a very special surprise for them. I had them line up and quietly make their way to the kitchen next door. Once inside I whispered to them that what we were about to do had to be a secret and it was only for my very special class of 4^th and 5^th graders. They were all smiles at that point, knowing something good was coming their way.

That’s when I busted out the milk and cocoa I brought for them. So yes, I bribed them. Over warm cocoa we all decided that yesterday was a terrible day, and that we all wanted to do better. I think they finally realized that I’ll be their teacher for the next 11 weeks, and I think I did a good job communicating to them that I wanted that time to be great for everyone. Of course I’m no idiot, and I know the glow can’t last. But for that moment those students loved their teacher, and it felt great!

So after our little break and some hinting on my part that this may be a regular occurrence, we made our way back into the classroom to work on math. I had 12 eager beginner mathematicians this morning – writing extra problems for themselves when they were finished to show me what good students they were. And they worked so hard that I totally lost track of time and forgot to get lunch started. Usually I’m counting the minutes to the little break I get to put the water on, but not today.

The rest of the day went well too, as my manual dexterity activity was making paper airplanes and then flying them outside. How could they not think I was the coolest teacher ever?! So now I enter my weekend feeling like I finally won over my kids, at least for now. I’m off to the farm with my host family in a few minutes and thankfully I don’t feel like I have to escape, rather I have some time away to think up some new creative lessons for when I get back.

So the emotional roller coaster that is my life in Ecuador continues – or is that the emotional roller coaster that is teaching? I’m not too sure anymore.

September 7, 2006 7:00 PM

I am the WORST teacher in the world. At least that’s how I feel at the moment. The kids ate me alive today, and I vacillated between wanting to run away crying and wishing I could throw each and every child off of the nearest available cliff. The volunteers here who are teachers tell me this is a normal feeling to have about one’s students about once a week, so I guess today was my day. Everything I tried to get them under control only made things worse. The very eloquent speech (with my Spanish? I don’t think so) about mutual respect seemed to work at the time, but by the end of the day many were promising equally bad behavior tomorrow.

It didn’t help when the local teacher (whose nickname is now Spikes so that she doesn’t know when we’re talking about her) ignored my request to come into the classroom and remind the students that they have to listen to the volunteers and behave in their classes, etc. Spikes does have a big responsibility with Muenala. There are now 36 students (including the little ones in the Jardín), spanning ages 3-12. She has two classrooms in which to operate. So believe me, I recognize that her job is hard. But when she chooses to spend all of her time with the four second-graders, there’s really a problem. So while she deals with four students, I now have 13 students in grades 4 and 5 to teach (Sally ended up with the Jardín rather than me). The last two days she hasn’t even stepped into my classroom.

So I’m frustrated and feeling really defeated after today’s demonstration of thoroughly bad behavior that I couldn’t reign in. Tomorrow I’m going to try a different tactic. Rather than being the disciplinarian, I’m going to try to kill them with kindness. I remember back to being in middle school and torturing substitute teachers who showed any sign of being flustered. My hope is that approach will ease the feeling of being a walking target for every naughty behavior kids can dream up. But if anyone else has any suggestions they think should work, feel free to send them my way. Apparently I can use all the help I can get.

The obvious question, I imagine, is whether or not I’m still glad to be here now that the going is tough. The answer is a resounding yes. Today I feel ineffective and incompetent, but tomorrow I’m going to try something new and see if it’s any better. One of the reasons I came down here was to build confidence in my teaching skills – now I realize I’ll be doing that from the very bottom up. I have another 11 weeks at Muenala, and that’s a long time for the kids to get to know me and trust me. It’s also plenty of time for me to make mistakes and be forgiven by the kids; to have days that I can’t stand them and days that I want to take each one of them home with me; days when I question my choice to teach and days when I know in the depth of my soul that I’m meant to do this work.

One thing I’m realizing out here is that nothing is static. The stuff that’s getting me down today probably won’t exist in a week, and definitely won’t in a month. I have to learn to be more patient. And I also have to be more willing to learn from the tough days, like today, in order to make them fewer and far between. I’ll admit that I came home and hid out in my room feeling sorry for myself, but as I write about my day I’m feeling much more optimistic about tomorrow and the weeks ahead.

And thankfully tomorrow is Friday and therefore the close of the first week of the term. I’m told that it takes a week to get into the swing of things here, so hopefully next week will be better. I’m also heading out of town this weekend with my host family, and I’m so excited. They own a farm in the cloud forest where they’re in the process of building a small hostel. It’s supposed to be beautiful and peaceful. I plan to swim in the river, read, and relax. It will also be my first truly Spanish-only time since I’ve been here. Because the other volunteers speak English, I spend a lot less time speaking Spanish than I originally thought. But this weekend will be all in Spanish – great practice. I don’t even plan to take any English books with me.

In other words, it’s all good.

September 4, 2006, 5:00 PM

It was brought to my attention that my last blog entry has the potential to be taken badly – being that it was self-pitying, passive-aggressive and over-indulgent. Ok, I take ownership of that, and I apologize for laying it on pretty thick (twice with many of you). If I’m being honest, I’ve hit a bit of a down patch here and I made the poor choice to express that by being self-pitying, passive-aggressive and over-indulgent. Email, don’t email, read these ramblings, don’t read ‘em, it’s entirely up to you. I made the choice to be down here and I’m also going to make the choice to not take everything so personally. Forgive me?

But I do have to say that it warmed my heart to get a TON of emails today wishing me well, and more importantly, filling me in on news at home so that I don’t feel so out of the loop. So thanks folks.

So…first day of school. Well? It was a bit disorganized from my vantage point, and it really wasn’t a school day – not the way I think of one anyway. Today was actually a day for the local teacher to register all the kids officially for the academic year and to have a really long meeting with the parents. This meeting, I think, was to discuss all kinds of issues relating to the school and the community. Meanwhile, the kids were told they had the option to stay at the school and play or go home. I have to say I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get down to any semblance of teaching, but I guess that’s par for the course at any school on the first day. So I made my famous rice and lentils for the kids (now quite the expert) and that was the extent of my contribution to their first day of school.

The big treat was to see them turn up in their little uniforms (or portions thereof) as they looked so beautiful in their finery – girls in the traditional indigenous costume of white embroidered blouses and long dark flannel skirts, coupled with a blue school vest, and the boys in their white trousers and blue school sweaters.

And I did learn what my responsibilities will be as things get rolling. I will be in charge of the Jardín – or kindergarten. This means that I will be spending five hours a day with 3-6 year old kids teaching them the basics. Early childhood education is certainly not my forte, but I do have a soft spot for young cute kids, so hopefully it will work out ok. It is a hard job as keeping kids that age on task is next to impossible, so it requires a plethora of activities, all of which I must plan. But I’m looking forward to the challenge – or at least that’s the mantra I’ve adopted.

September 3, 2006 – a follow-up

This afternoon I spent about two hours in the Internet café sending out emails to groups and individuals. In a big mass email (of which you may have been the recipient) I mentioned that I’m feeling pretty forgotten since I’ve been down here. I haven’t heard much, if anything, from most people, and so I sent out a guilt-inducing plea asking for more correspondence. I feel justified in this request as I could point to a few folks who I really thought would do a better job staying in touch and haven’t (not mentioning any names on this very public forum).

As I mentioned in this email, I’m here in South America away from everything and everyone I know. I live with a host family I understand about half the time, and in whose presence I tend to feel too self-conscious (or tired) to really engage in extensive conversation, and the only friends I have are those I’ve made over the past month (the closest of which went home on Friday). All of this was my choice, and I’m really glad I made it, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t hope for more support from loved ones.

Ok, so all that was in my head as I walked home. I was feeling kind of lonely and dejected. I hadn’t heard from Jon since Friday night, so even my own husband was too busy to email. Anyway, as I turned a corner nearing my house, a little girl ran quickly by me, turned and yelled “¡Hola!” which I reciprocated with the same and a smile. She kept on running but then stopped and returned to me. She held out a hair clip that she had been wearing – pretty with rhinestones, she had a set – and said it was a present for me. I protested and said it was hers and she didn’t need to give it away, but she insisted. It was such a tiny gesture, but so meaningful for me. I’d had feelings of being an outsider here and forgotten at home, but this little girl who’d I’d never seen before was able to cheer me up with her little gift.

I don’t exactly know the lesson here, but I’m sure there is one. Should I go easier on people? Yes I’m sure. Should I keep my expectations and disappointment in check? Absolutely. Should I be more forgiving as I’m sure I’ve let people down in the past with my absentee friendship? Definitely. I don’t know. Mostly I’m just thankful for that little girl who didn’t know it, but went a long way to cheer me up this afternoon. But would I still like more email? You betcha.

September 3, 2006, 1030

¡Viva Otavalo! It’s the annual Yamor Fiesta and all of Otavalo is celebrating for two weeks. The festivities kicked off Friday night with a parade of floats, indigenous dancers in traditional dress, marching bands, and pretty girls throwing roses. It was also Aiden’s birthday (new volunteer who arrived from the UK with her brother, Charlie, two weeks ago) so we had cake and beer as we watched. Unfortunately, being Gringos we didn’t know exactly where the best spot would be so we ended up at the tail end of the parade and I think missed some of the high-impact stuff. Even so, it was pretty cool.

Afterward we headed to a bar to get out of the cold and off our feet for a little while. The place we found made great Mojitos and played a random mixture of US music – everything from Guns ‘n Roses to Shakira. Later we tried to find a good place to go dancing, but everything was super expensive, and we were all a bit tired (we did have school that day). So after cheeseburgers at midnight we all headed home.

Last night was the very exciting Elección de la Reina del Yamor – a beauty pageant/concert/pep rally or sorts that last four hours! I went with Madre and arrived two hours early so as to secure a good bleacher seat. I’m really not going to do this event justice with my description, but I’ll try. The space where the pageant is held is like a school gymnasium, but even lower rent – tin roof, all concrete. There are bleachers making an “L” around one side and plastic chairs in the center. At the front a stage was set up with two big screens on either side. When we arrived the sound system was blaring really bad covers that I think must have been recorded by the seven candidates. After “Like a Virgin” and Guns ‘n Roses’ “Patience” the coordinators thought better and put on some cool Latino tunes. But my favorite part of the pre-show was what was being shown on the big screens – really cheezy graphics that were very reminiscent of Lawnmower Man. However, the attendees didn’t seem to be paying any attention as they were too busy setting themselves up with drums, whistles, noisemakers, confetti and anything else they could think of to show their support for their candidate.

Rather than walk you through every number, I’ll give you a sense of what the evening included. Now, I assumed that a beauty pageant would involve a bunch of girls parading themselves in tacky evening gowns, big hair and too much makeup – there was that, to be sure, but surprising little of it. In fact, during the four hours I sat on an uncomfortable bleacher, I would say only about 30 minutes actually included the candidates themselves. And their job seemed to be to give a runway walk across the stage a few times, and once answer a question with the equivalent of “world peace” or something. Most of the evening included music and dance performances ranging from really good to fall-of-your-seat hysterically bad.

The Music: The evening was meant to be a celebration of music across the generations. This translated into some great Latino tunes mostly delivered on pitch (but sometimes frightfully off) with the crowd really responding. It also meant that there were some very interesting interpretations of non-Latino songs including “Jail House Rock,” “You’re the One That I Want,” from Grease, and – my absolute favorites – “Thriller” and a medley of the following theme songs: Superman, Star Trek and Star Wars set to a disco beat.

The Dancing: A dance troop accompanied some of the music, and they were pretty horrible, which of course I thought was awesome. Think teenage Solid Gold dancers. And it’s not that they were bad dancers per se, as Latinos tend to make white folks like myself look like a bunch of bumbling idiots on the dance floor (please excuse my generalization), but these routines were SO bad and half-assed. I’ve already mentioned the “Thriller” debacle – but imagine it with dancers trying to imitate Michael Jackson’s moves in the video; or the flying Spiderman/Power Ranger-like guy in blue spandex throwing glitter who accompanied the aforementioned medley. However, there was one traditional indigenous dance, and it was really beautiful.

Overall, my favorite part of the evening was the crowd. For four hours they went crazy, cheering on their candidate, beating drums, singing, throwing shredded paper (that I was piled in by the end of the night) and just having a great time. I really enjoyed being a part of it.

So that’s been my experience of Yamor thus far. I’m sure I’ll have more to report as I check out more events over the next two weeks. Other than that, I’m pretty focused on the start of the school year tomorrow. The local teacher and all the students, return to Muenala tomorrow to begin their regular term. This means that I’ll finally be doing some real teaching, as opposed to the half teaching-half babysitting I’ve been doing for the past three weeks. I’m nervous as usual about the unknown, but I’m excited too.

Tomorrow I also hit my one month mark, which I can’t believe. My first week or two seemed to drag on and it felt like I’d be here forever. But now that I’m a month in, I’m surprised at how quickly the time is going. I think after my 16 weeks, I’ll really be ready to go home, but for now I’m glad that I have the opportunity to spend so much time here. Suzannah has already left, and I think how incomplete the experience would be for me if I were already on my way home. With 16 weeks, I’ll really know the kids and the community.

And now I’ll close with a few favorite things about Muenala:

1. Cows and dogs in my kitchen

2. My little perrito (puppy) who I wish I could give a much-needed bath and bring home
3. Becoming the culinary expert on the preparation of rice and lentils (my job everyday)
4. Gaining a real understanding for how one can read without any comprehension – a daily activity of mine
5. The chicken who likes to hide under our outdoor sink to get stray rice and lentils while I’m washing the 6. dishes, and never ceases to make me jump six feet every time she pops out
6. Games of pato, pato, ganzo (duck, duck, goose) when the kids think it’s the funniest thing to see their teacher run around a circle
7. Kids riding their horses to school
8. The daily greeting I receive from all the kids (including the little ones in the daycare): a handshake followed by “Buenos Días.”
9. The view I get everyday as I walk (hike!) 40 minutes to and from school
10. And finally, the fleas that I’ve contracted from either my cute little perrito, the kids, or both. I consider myself lucky. At least I don’t have lice (yet!).

August 28, 2006, 1100

So I realized that most of my ramblings on this blog have been pretty self-centered. So I’m going to spend a little time reflecting on the social order I’ve encountered so far. There are essentially three racial categories in Ecuador: Indígena, Mestizo, and Negro (Spanish terms). These categories are pretty self-explanatory. The Indígena were here first and therefore have suffered the most. Although here in Otavalo and in the Northern Highlands in general, the Indígena have made a lot of progress in asserting their rights. Some of the indigenous groups are descended from the Incas, but many were here beforehand, and were conquered by them.

The Mestizos are the “mixed” race that resulted from the inter-breeding of the Spanish Conquistadors and the Indígenas. This is the largest group here in Ecuador and most of the politics in the country speak to its interests. In general, when we in the US think of Latin Americans, it’s the Mestizos who come to mind.

And finally there is a small population of Negros. I don’t know too much about the history of the black people here, but as a group they seem generally to be poor and undereducated. As far as I can tell, the Negros may be at the bottom of the social plan, but I think they certainly share that spot with a lot of the Indígenas.

This hierarchy appears to be very much a part of the thinking here, but it’s not absolute. As I mentioned, the Otavaleños (the indigenous group in and around Otavalo) have been pretty successful at climbing the economic and political ladder. The mayor of Otavalo is Indígena and there are quite a few wealthy Indígenas here due to the market. And when the Indígenas here want to make the government in Quito (the capital) sit up and listen to their demands, they have the ability to essentially shut down Quito through the use of paros – roadblocks set up to stop all traffic in and out of Quito. It would be as if the Native American population shut down all the roads in and out of Washington DC until President Bush adjusted his policies in a way that they liked. It’s pretty powerful maneuvering, and super bad ass if you ask me.

As far as economics and politics goes, well it’s just like it is in the US – those who have the money get the most and have the most power, those who are poor are not really much of a concern for the government (although it is a requirement that every adult vote). So rural schools like Muenala (as in the US) don’t get a lot of funding, while the schools in bigger towns and cities do. And as in the US, the government makes a lot of lofty promises to make the system more equal and to provide more for the poor, but most of these are empty gestures. That’s why I’m volunteering in a school where 30 students grades 1-6 have one teacher who has to rely on teaching methods that keep order (copying) rather than encourage creativity or a love of learning.

What’s been really fascinating is how the people I encounter think that the US has it all figured out. I’ve spoken to my host family about education and healthcare and other social issues, and they were shocked to learn that there are some really terrible schools in the US, and that there are millions of people who don’t get adequate healthcare, and that we have a problem with homelessness and poverty. Of course these are more exceptions to the rule than they are here, but I think it was surprising for folks in Ecuador to learn that some people in the richest country in the world has some of the same problems they do.

It’s also been interesting to discover how much everyone wants to know how much things cost in the US. These are difficult discussions to have. When my Spanish teacher, who makes $5 per hour, learned that I paid $30 per hour for similar lessons at home she assumed both my teacher at home and I are rich. What I had to explain is that everything costs more: rent, food, electricity, clothes, etc. Of course when I’m here I certainly see my money going a lot further, but it’s really hard to explain that it doesn’t work that way at home. My students constantly refer to me as rich, and therefore think I have endless resources to give to them. But when I think about my apartment and the things it contains, and the lifestyle I have, I guess I am rich compared to my students. That’s part of the perspective lesson I’m trying to gain here.

And then there are a few comical cultural differences – at least comical in reference to me. It is extremely strange to the people here that someone’s wife (me) would actually leave the country to do something like volunteer as a teacher. There is a disconnect for people when I mention that I’m married and my husband is back in Chicago. And it’s not really a cultural faux pas to ask women their age, so it’s usually a follow-up to the marriage question. That’s when I really get the shocked responses. “You are 31 years old and you don’t have any hijos?” Colleen’s host mother (the one famous for the orange/garlic/onion/radish drink) told me that it was too late, that I was too old to have children. She seemed very sad for me. At home I’m still pretty young (although not as young as I think), but here, I’m already an old maid! It’s super funny as I explain that it’s not unusual for women in the US to have children when they are 35 or older. That’s when I get the real gasps. Some of these women aren’t that far from being grandmothers at 35. Madre is 37 and her son will be 22 next month. But as a modern woman, she’s glad to know that he’ll wait a while to get married and have kids – maybe until 25 or 26.

I have to close by saying hat I love the people here. I feel pretty at home in Otavalo and in the community where I teach, even though I’m obviously the Gringa. I love the way my kids and their parents shake my hand when they pass me and say “Buenos Días.” I love how affectionate my kids can be – giving me hugs hello and goodbye and happily holding my hand as we walk to and from school. I love that my host family includes me as though I’m part of the family. I love that I’m beginning to be a regular in some of my favorite spots and therefore getting to know people that way. All in all, I feel very accepted here, and it’s a great feeling.

August 27, 2006

So the good news is that I seem to be on the mend – I guess I kicked that pneumonia/meningitis bug pretty quickly. Although I’m still coughing up a storm, my fever hasn’t come back today (at least not yet), and it doesn’t feel like a 200 lb man is standing on my chest. After all my bitching about feeling so lonely and dejected here, Rosario came home to make me soup and a very strong hot lemon drink she swore would cure me. I was so emotional that I had to hold back the tears as I thanked her for taking care of me. And Sally (new volunteer from New Zealand who is fabulous) came to check on me too, which was really sweet.

A little bit about home remedies here. The lemon drink I received last night was essentially fresh-squeezed lemon juice heated up. No added water, no sugar. Muy fuerte! But I consider myself lucky. Colleen had a cold last week and her host mother insisted on giving her the following elixir: a hot beverage made from boiling oranges, garlic, onion, and radishes. From Colleen’s description it was just as bad as it sounds.

I skipped the scheduled trips this weekend in order to hang out at home and rest. I really didn’t want to miss any social activities here as doing so seems to put one out of the loop so quickly. Not that the people here are looking to ostracize anyone, it’s simply that the shared experiences increase friendships. And like camp or college, friendships here form quickly and deeply simply due to the circumstances and time constraints. So no that I’ve missed going out with the gang on Friday, the hike Saturday, dinner at Chrissie’s casa last night, and the full-day trip to the cloud forest today, it feels like I’ve missed the equivalent of months of socializing at home.

But it was the right thing to do. Although I felt pretty crappy, I had a nice day yesterday hanging out in my room reading and studying my Spanish. It was my first really relaxing lazy day here, and I think I really needed it. I’ve now torn through the only two books I brought with me (Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything and Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex – both of which I highly recommend) and I’ve only been here for three weeks. I think I’ll have to take a trip to Quito just to find an English-language bookstore.

This morning I went to mass with Madre. I mentioned last night that I would like to go to mass while I’m here, and she insisted I go with her to her church today (8:00 am mass, Dios Mio). I was definitely the only Gringa there, and my incessant coughing didn’t allow me to keep a low profile. I loved the church, as it was just the right mixture of Catholic gaudiness within a very functional space. It’s a pretty new church where normal people go – it’s not the historic churches in the center of town that a tourist might visit. And I have to say, what’s great about being Catholic is that wherever I go to mass, the structure is essentially the same. Although I didn’t understand all the Spanish, I knew what was going on most of the time and was able to participate.

But I have to mention, the music at this church cracked me up. The two off-key women who made up the choir were accompanied by a Casio-type keyboard programmed to (kind of) imitate an organ, and yes, complete with the backbeat. I thought I was going to crack up when I heard it.

Tomorrow I head back to school to finish up the kids’ last week of summer session. I’m really looking forward to starting the regular term as I’ll finally have some idea of the curriculum these kids are supposed to follow and who is in what grade. Unfortunately the big problem is that once the local teacher is in charge, a lot of the creative stuff we do with the kids gets thrown out the window. Copying is the primary method of teaching here, so kids gain literacy through the process of copying what the teacher writes. Obviously this doesn’t encourage the students to develop their own voice.

On of the goals in summer school has been to get the kids to write without the need to copy. In Muenala, we gave the students journals and assigned a topic for each day, such as family, animals, friends, games, etc. This was a good exercise, but didn’t require a whole lot of imagination. So last week Sally and I decided we would change the activity to creative writing. It’s been a real challenge to get these kids to write their own stories, but I think we’ve been pretty successful. Generally we read a story to the kids first, and talk about it to make sure they understood (keep in mind that Spanish is their second language), then we give them a pile of pictures from which they have to choose a few and write a story about those pictures. The kids are starting to get into the activity, so each day the stories are getting better. My hope is that I’ll be able to continue the exercise somehow once the school year begins, but it’s hard to say if that’s possible.

And I’ll close today by sharing some purchases I made on Thursday at the outdoor produce market (imagine a farmer’s market in your town that’s held everyday, all year). I purchased 8 tomatoes, 5 avocados, and one pineapple – all fresh, all wonderful – for $2.30. And that was the gringo price – had I been local, and/or more in the mood to bargain, it would have been less. At 50¢ per pineapple, I think I’ll have one a week while I’m here.

August 25

It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m sick. Like sick sick – fever, chills, coughing, wheezing – sick. It sucks and I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m sitting alone in my room here in Otavalo and there’s no one to offer me soup or tea or to kiss my forehead. I’m feeling really lonely. As I walked home from the bus drop-off (for whatever reason I went to school today), I started to cry because there would be no one at home to try to make me feel better.

And of course I’m being a drama queen only because I’m outside the US. I’ve gone back and forth today thinking I either have pneumonia or meningitis. Why those things? Because it would be too simple if I just had a bad chest cold like some of the kids in my school. So I kind of feel like an idiot feeling so sorry for myself and making this into a bigger thing than it is. After all, one of the reasons I’m here is to gain some much-needed perspective in my life. If any of my kids did have pneumonia or meningitis they wouldn’t even be able to afford to see a doctor, and I’m crying because I’m sick and no one here loves me. Drama queen!

But it’s just so depressing to know that no one really cares that I’m sick. Don’t get me wrong, the other volunteers have been sympathetic, but it’s not the same thing. And Rosario is out, so it’s not like I even have a mother figure I could turn to. At present the only people home are Danny and his girlfriend. They’re super sweet, but they could care less that the strange girl from America is feeling awful and needs a little attention.

I guess this is when it gets hard – when things aren’t going smoothly and the thought of being home in my nice comfortable surroundings, with my husband who loves me, just seems so attractive. I’m sitting here coughing and wheezing and wondering, “What the fuck am I doing in Ecuador?!” But I know this too shall pass, and by Monday I’ll probably be good as new.

17 August 3:00 PM

Already I’ve been negligent in updating my blog – by I guess it’s a good sign that I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to do so. I hit my two week mark tomorrow, and I would say things are going really well. But let me back track a little to get everyone up to speed.

I finished up my week of Spanish classes on Friday. Four hours every morning was pretty exhausting, but helpful. I plan to continue taking classes after I teach, but that won’t start until next week, and only once or twice a week. My Spanish is definitely improving, but still revolves around the same four or five verbs: I want, I can, I like, I need, I have and I am (tired, usually). My comprehension of conversations around me is on a more intermediate level, so that’s good. I’m sure that it will get better each day.

This past Saturday I was supposed to go on a hike with a few other volunteers to a waterfall and lake, but the guy who was supposed to take us never showed up. So Suzannah (volunteer from the UK) and I decided to venture off on our own. We followed the now unused train tracks out of Otavalo for about 3 miles or so. It was cool to venture off the beaten path, and see how the people outside Otavalo live. We also saw a lot of cows and pigs and stuff, which for this city girl was cool too. I’m sure the locals found it really hilarious to see the Gringa taking tons of pictures of cows, but whatever.

And my host family is super sweet. On Monday night Danny (the eldest) showed me ALL of the family albums. Although it took a while, it was really cool to be invited into the family history like that. I’ve shown my pics as well. I really lucked out with my host family – they’re pretty modern, liberal, and just so nice to be around. It’s still weird living is someone else’s house, but I’m getting a bit more comfortable each day. And thankfully I’ve avoided crazy intestinal distress thus far, so I haven’t had to embarrass myself too much using the centrally-located bathroom I’ve previously mentioned.

On Sunday I joined the other volunteers for a hike around Leguna Cuicachi – which is a lake within a volcanic crater. It was really beautiful, but I’m still working on my hiking legs, so it kicked my ass a little (ok a lot, but keep in mind I’m at about 10,000 ft here). After the hike we took a boat around the lake for about 30 minutes. It was cool, but pretty touristy. The scenery here is just unbelievable, and of course my pics don’t do it justice.

Monday was my first day at the school (called Muenala). I’m sure it’s not surprising to know that I was totally nervous about it. I just felt so unprepared – I didn’t think my Spanish was good enough, I know nothing about teaching little kids, I had no idea what these kids would be like, etc. etc. But it really wasn’t so bad. I felt a bit out of place, but the kids were mostly really sweet, although sometimes poorly behaved (pushing limits and stuff), as kids often are. I think they just wanted to figure me out a little once they realized they would have me around for the next 15 weeks.

I guess now it’s just a matter of getting into the swing of everything. I now have a schedule that I will follow for the next 15 weeks, I’ll get to know the kids better and better each day, I’ll feel more confident in my teaching abilities, and my Spanish will improve. I think in another couple of weeks when I’m really settled with the school, I won’t feel so much like a fish out of water.

And the kids are SO cute. They’re a pretty affectionate bunch, especially the girls and the younger ones. To see them at school, they seem like most kids we encounter, but then you realize that they have so much responsibility within the family – even the real little ones. For example, during my walk to school yesterday, I ran into one of my 9-year-olds with 15 cows in tow. And kids as young as seven may be responsible for all the little ones younger than them.

And they are so poor. It’s really sad. Each child has one set of clothes that is worn everyday – which has probably been handed down from older siblings. The rubber boots each wears (without socks) are practically disintegrating around their feet. And the kids are really dirty. You wouldn’t think of it, but water is not easy to come by for these families. They live high in the Andes, and the water source is a river in the valley. Although there is some plumbing that offers running (cold only) water, it’s unreliable. And when the family’s survival depends on farming and livestock, the water is better used for that. It’s really eye-opening to be in a situation where bathing is thought to be a luxury.

It’s pretty impressive what GVI brings to these kids. My school, during the regular school year (it’s optional summer session now), will have about 30 students grades 1-6. One local teacher is supplied by the government for all of them. The school has two rooms, only one of which has electricity, and a kitchen. GVI provides volunteers that allow for students to be separated by age and ability. Additionally, the organization pays for each student to have all the necessary school supplies so they can actually attend school. The food that is served during the day (usually rice and lentils, some veggies and fruit) is also supplied by GVI, and purchased every morning by volunteers at the market to support the local economy. Furthermore, any improvements to the school, other material needs, etc., are covered by GVI. The hope is that the three schools GVI supports will produce students who can choose to continue on in their education (secondary school and university) and therefore be better prepared to help their communities survive, as the poor indigenous communities are really threatened in this country.

So for those of you who chose to help sponsor my coming here, you can feel really good about where the money is going. And for all of you that opt to follow my blog, I encourage you to think about whether you might want to give something to the efforts here. If so, I can definitely direct you how to do that. And just so you know, 100% of any contribution goes to the project itself. Ok, that’s enough of my pitch today.

So I have to give you some more info on the folks who I’m working with, just so you have a better picture. First there’s Suzannah, who is 33 and from Kent, England and will be here for another 3 weeks. I love her – she’s really feisty and great to hang around with. Colleen is the other girl here: 28, an elementary school teacher from Wisconsin, and also really nice. She’s here for another 12 weeks, so I’m glad to know there will be that consistency. And she lives practically across the street from me, so it’s nice to have someone I can walk with at night. Tom, 22 and the only male at the moment, is the most girl-hungry guy I’ve ever encountered. He talks about girls all the time. It’s really unbelievable. Despite that, I like him a lot as he really is a good guy and is amazing with the kids. There are three more volunteers arriving this weekend, and I’m looking forward to meeting them (and having the extra help at the school).

And that leaves Chrissie (36, another Brit) who is the project manager here. She’s really amazing – gave up her life in England to do this and wants to do it forever. She can get a bit preachy, but her commitment is full-on, and she’s such an inspiration. This week she and I worked together at Muenala, just the two of us, so it was good getting to know her better on our 40-minute hikes to and from the school everyday.

It’s still pretty surreal to be here. It totally freaks me out when I stop and think “Holy Shit, I’m in Ecuador!” But I’m finding my way, and trying to get comfortable. Everyday I feel a bit more at home. I think that catches you all up. I hope to post to my site about twice a week to let you know how it’s going.

8 August 4:15 PM

Ok, so my Spanish is certainly improving, however, I’m still super frustrated all the time. I think of myself as being a pretty well-spoken person – I’m no Jon Resh mind you, but I can hold my end of the conversation with some pretty smart folks. To give you an idea of my communication skills in Spanish, I offer you the following translated “essay” I wrote about my family in my Spanish class today:

My family is very crazy. My mother, called Linda, lives in Florida on a small boat with her boyfriend, called Mike. She does not have a job. She is very short and pretty. She is from New York and has a very strong accent. My father is called Kim. He lives in Annapolis, Maryland, near the capital of the United States. Like my mother, he doesn’t have a job. He travels a lot. He goes to the Virgin Islands where he likes to sail. I have one younger brother, called Tony. Tony is a special soldier. He teaches other soldiers how to escape and survive if they are prisoners. Tony has a wife called Sarah and a son called Skyler. And Sarah is pregnant. Skyler is one year and two months old. I love him a lot because he is very very cute.

When did I suddenly revert to being a third-grader???? It’s pretty frustrating. But I smile a lot, and I try to laugh off the little mistakes (e.g., mixing up the verbs for putting on make-up and getting drunk). I know I get a little bit better everyday and so maybe by the time I leave I’ll be more like a fifth grader.

Life with the host family is getting a bit less awkward. I finally convinced my host mother that I don’t need to be eating for two. She kept serving these HUGE plates of food, while she sat next to me eating portions half the size. So now the rule is whatever size portion she makes for herself, that’s what I get too.

Speaking of food, I’ll share my gastronomic exploits thus far. It’s all pretty basic. With my host family I have soup (chicken broth, quinoa, potato) and a plate of rice, veggies, and a meat of some kind. Last night it was canned tuna, but that was cool. Other than a couple sandwiches and the nice lunch we had on the way out here, I haven’t really eaten out. I do have four months to experiment, but for now I’m just easing in. I think it will be a little while before I try cuy. And for those of you who don’t know what the this typical dish is in Ecuador, it’s guinea pig. Yup, those cute and furry animals are served whole after being roasted on a spit. I promise to take a picture once I finally try it. Thought that may turn some of you vegetarian.

That’s it from me. Keep your fingers crossed for me as I’ve moved from bottled water to tap when brushing my teeth.

7 August 1:15 PM

I’m sitting in my host family’s family room watching “The Simpsons” in Spanish. Luckily it’s one I’ve seen before, so I can follow pretty well. I had my first Spanish class (4 hours one-on-one) today, and it was pretty grueling. My tutor, Veronica, is quite the taskmaster, which is good, but it takes a lot out of me. Although I have a lot of Spanish coming in, she’s starting me off with the basics and building from there. I think that will work well for me, as I get a bit sloppy about that stuff.

I have now met most of my host family, and they seem really nice. This morning I had breakfast with my host mother, Rosario (to be known as Madre) – or I should say I had breakfast while she watched me eat. It was a bit uncomfortable. She asked me lots of questions, I did my best to answer, but I didn’t have the vocabulary and grammar skills to be polite and ask questions about her. Oh well, I’m sure she understood.

Oh, first faux pas – she served warm milk with my breakfast, which I drank dutifully. I didn’t find out until later that it was for the instant coffee that’s kept on the table. Ooops. I’ll just have to tell her to skip the milk tomorrow.

It’s really weird being waited on. I finished my class to come home for lunch, which is a big family meal here. Madre will not let me help (probably thinking this spoiled American doesn’t know her way around a kitchen). But on top of her making three meals a day for me, she will also be hand-washing all of my laundry (yeah, I bought new underwear for this), changing my sheets, cleaning my room, etc.

Ok, so I have to share something pretty embarrassing about myself. I hate using other people’s bathrooms. And by other people’s I mean any bathroom that isn’t in my house. So what do I do? I run off to Ecuador to live with a family with the most centrally located bathroom I’ve ever seen. Oh, and in Ecuador, one doesn’t flush toilet paper, one throws it out in the trash. And yes, it is extremely likely that I will have, como se dice, violent diarrhea at some point while I’m in South America. Now, I mentioned earlier before that I’m only comfortable in my bathroom, but not even my bathroom is of much comfort during such an episode.

So anyway, last night I really had to pee, just plain old urination. I sat there in my cute little room, worrying that my bladder would burst because I refused to get up in the middle of the night to go to the aforementioned centrally-located bathroom. And I knew I was being an idiot, but that still didn’t get me out of my room. I waited until the morning when I knew where everyone in the house was (boys asleep, Madre in the kitchen) and I rushed off to save myself from needing a new bladder. I’m really going to have to get over this.

Ok, enough of my bathroom stories. Lunch is almost ready, so I’m going to sign-off. More soon…

If you’re curious, it’s the episode where Homer goes to space on the space shuttle, after beating out Barney for the slot. The scene when he’s eating anti-gravity potato chips while the theme from 2001 plays, is awesome!

Sunday August 6, 2006, 5:15 PM

I made it to Otavalo and I’m now in my room at my host family’s house. I was pretty nervous on the drive over here, as this will be my home away from home for the next 4 months. But I should back up, as this is not the only thing I did today.

We started off today (and by we I mean Suzanna, another volunteer from Kent, England, Caroline who is from the UK but has been traveling around the world for nearly a year and who will be in Otavalo for a week learning some Spanish before heading off into the jungle for five weeks, and Chrissie, the GVI coordinator here in Ecuador) with breakfast and then a trip to La Mitad del Mundo – the museum set up at the equator. Today I straddled the northern and southern hemispheres. It was cool because we didn’t go to the big monument where most tourists go because it’s actually not at the Equator – GPS proved it to be off by about 200 ft. There was also a tiny museum of the local indigenous peoples, and that was interesting – especially the shrunken head.

Our day continued with lunch that specialized in local cuisine. I had a wonderful trout grilled with garlic, yummmm, accompanied by black currant juice. Juice is a big thing here, and it’s all freshly squeezed and served in beer steins. And then after lunch we were off to Otavalo.

So here I am. Everyone but the father of the house is out, so I’ve only met him. He seems nice, and thankfully speaks slowly enough for me to follow him. My Spanish is getting better everyday, but I have such a long way to go. Good thing I’m starting Spanish school tomorrow.

Friday, August 04, 2006 11:25 PM, Quito, Ecuador

I’m here! I made it to Quito with relative ease, thank goodness. Leaving today was so difficult though. I guess because I couldn’t actually picture leaving beforehand, so when the time came to say goodbye to Jon it was much harder than I thought it would be. Yeah, I was that girl with the tear-stained face at the airport.

And of course, once I got on the plane all the doubt set in: “What the HELL am I doing going to Ecuador for 4 months?!” I sat there contemplating what would be a good excuse to get myself off that plane. But ever the self-conscious one, I didn’t want to draw that much attention to myself, so off I went to Atlanta and then Quito.

A slight aside for those curious about who is the typical passenger on a flight to Quito – in addition to the Ecuadorians, there are tons of do-gooders. I ran into a group from Habitat for Humanity and another on a church mission. And these were large groups too. So I guess I fit right in, although I had them all trumped with my length of stay.

I made it without any trouble through immigration – and even used some Spanish. The only scary moment was when I emerged with my bags (100 lbs all together) I anxiously scanned the very large crowd for someone with a sign with my name on it. No dice at first, so I made my way out the door. Thankfully, there I found my name and ended up in a taxi to Villa Nancy, my home for the next two days. Unfortunately, my taxi driver didn’t exactly know where he was going, and like most men, didn’t ask for directions. Finally, after circling the same few blocks for 15 minutes we came upon the hostel.

So now I’m sitting on one of the two beds in the sparse, but cute room. I should be joined any minute by another volunteer from GVI, so that should be cool. And now that I made it, I’m glad I didn’t go running back to Jon. Although I’ll miss him terribly, I feel really good about what I’m doing here.

Will I still feel the same way when the first signs of “intestinal problems” set in? We’ll see…