Soooo my apologies for not posting in a while, and my apologies in advance for the brevity of this post. Life has suddenly gotten very busy here-but hopefully I'll have time to catch you all up soon.
This random little tidbit from my weird life requires 2 crucial pieces of background information. 1) My host mother is pregnant. This is super exciting!! It's their first kid, and they are just the sweetest people, so they will definitely be wonderful real parents in addition to wonderful host parents. 2) It is almost November 2nd, which here is known as "El Dia de los Muertos", or The Day of the Dead. Sort of like our Halloween, but way more focused on respecting the deceased and way less on consuming an obscene amount of fun-sized (or if you hit up Highland Circle, KING-SIZE) candy bars.
Tonight the host rents had gone to mass to pray and stuff, leaving my host cousin, Gabby and I to eat alone. We were chatting away when the host parents came back. They were carrying some bread and told me that it was a gift for me. This was nice! They then showed me the bread loaf, which apparently is traditional Day of the Dead food. It is shaped like a baby with icing etchings of a baby's general features. So that's sort of weird. I try to be open to new cultures, but typically eating babies is frowned upon in the States. Whatever though, I'm not one to look a gift pastry in the mouth. I had just gotten used to the idea of eating a baby (hahaha I can't believe I just typed that), when they went on to explain that it was also filled with blackberry jam. I don't need to point out that this looks like blood. At this point, I felt like I had to speak up. Eating a blood-filled baby pastry? What kind of country is this!!??
"Isn't that a little sad to eat a baby-shaped pastry?" I inquired.
"Hahaha, yeah I guess so, but it's tradition. All the gringo students have the same reaction as you, but try it! " My host dad answered.
Here, my host cousin chimed in, "we love them here, just tear the head right off and dig in!"
*Side note: I am still working on identifying sarcasm/some more subtle types of humor in Spanish. Sometimes I'm a little too focused on the literal translation that I miss the sentiment/mood of the words. Keep this in mind*
After being given the advice to "tear the head right off", I of course did so!! I was trying to follow tradition! Apparently, this is not a tradition. Upon seeing that I had mutilated the baby, my whole family gave me this look of disgust.
"I said to tear the head off as a joke...but you just did it" said Gabby. They all laughed uncomfortably. Great. Now my host family (who is expecting their very own infant in a matter of months) thinks I'm some creepy heartless American who tears the heads off of babies with nary a second thought. Will have to work on this.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Political Awareness (or the Distinct Lackthereof) in Ecuador
Although I am a proponent of sensitivity towards cultural differences, and consideration towards the feelings of others, I do find myself frustrated at the (in my opinion) sometimes excessive amount of political correctness that is floating around our country and specifically around Middlebury College. In an atmosphere of “first-years” and ¨Little People”, “Native Americans/Indigenous persons/Indians” , and “womyn”, I sometimes fear that in the effort to avoid offending someone, we miss out the opportunity to hear a critical argument, genuine question, or worst of all, a really funny joke.
So, when I got to Ecuador, I was relieved to discover that the rules of language were a little more lax here. One Ecuadorian student who had studied abroad in Missouri told me that the one thing he simply did not understand about American culture was the concept of “political correctness.” As he said, “here, we sort of just say what we want to, and if it´s something bad, people generally just think we´re joking.¨ I did a little celebratory dance inside my head. Finally! I was in a place where people could talk freely! Gone was the need to censure ourselves! Distasteful jokes could be made without several Proctor tables full of politically aware Middlebury students turning to give me their nastiest looks! I had arrived! Or so I thought, until I saw what a lack of political correctness is like in practice.
This weekend, I found myself in the Oriental region of Ecuador riding a trolley up the side of a volcano at night. Beautiful views, cool people, a cup of traditional hot wine, and life was good. Then, when things could not get any better, we turned around to see the rest of our tour group (all Ecuadorians) gathering around a bonfire. Being gringos, and generally clueless, we naturally all assumed that we were going to be treated to some sort of show put on by people from the indigenous tribes of Ecuador. We eagerly ran up to the fire, ready to have our minds blown by the ancient traditions of these people who have resisted modernization for so long. Turns out, we were not watching a traditional fire dance. No, just a magic show featuring two magicians who could not actually perform magic tricks. So really, we were watching more of a comedy put on by two brothers frolicking around a roaring bonfire. Disappointed, but still ready for a few laughs ,we settled into the show.
Over the course of the next 30 minutes, these two men managed to insult nearly every group of people you could ever think of. Black people, white people, indigenous people, gay people (though they used a much more offensive slang term), women, Chinese people, people from the entirety of Asia, orphans… I could go on for the rest of my 650 allotted words, but I think you get the picture. These men took the most offensive stereotypes about each group and mocked them incessantly: ponytails, pinched eyes, stilted speech and a sort of waddle turned one into a Chinese man, whilst the other killed the crowd by flicking his wrists and speaking in high-pitched, lisping Spanish in his imitation of a gay man. With each joke, we got more and more irritated and shocked that these performers (and the audience) actually thought these crude generalizations were funny. We ended up leaving the show in favor of exploring the mountainside and appreciating the amazing views.
So, for all of you who read my first paragraph and were appalled that I, a student of Middlebury College, cannot understand the need for accurate and sensitive language, consider my lesson learned. At least, partially. I still maintain that sometimes the PC-ness of our country and campus goes too far, but I have come to appreciate that a balance is, indeed necessary. If I am trying to be an empathetic and understanding person, then the language I choose to use needs to reflect this goal.
This does not mean, however, that I cannot still appreciate a good blonde joke.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
September 3rd, 2011
This weekend I hung around Quito despite the fact that my friends were going off to exotic locations such as the Mindo Cloud Forest and a beautiful camping trip at a crater. I did so supposedly because I wanted to experience a weekend in the city, but mostly because I had already paid 15$ for an International Students Party and was too cheap to forefeit that ticket money to go on another trip.
So, Saturday morning rolled around and I found myself waiting outside of one of Quito's stadiums with roughly 60 other gringos who were waiting to board the buses that the university had told us would arrive at 10. It was then 10:15, no buses in sight. At 10:30, I led a little expedition of people on a walk around the stadium, to see if by any chance the buses had parked somewhere else instead of right in front of the stadium, in the most clearly parked, wide open parking lot available. You never know...so, we saw some buses that looked suspiciously like the charter buses we were waiting for, only not a single one of them had a driver. Huh. We walked back to the group of gringos, defeated. We then waited until 11:00, when finally those buses drove up to find us...hooray! We then boarded the buses, only to sit there till 11:30, when we started moving. After driving for a SOLID 10 meters, a car hit one of the buses. Oh my god. Not a serious hit, but enough to merit some arguing and paperwork, which took a solid 30 minutes. FINALLY, when we arrived at the ranch where the party was to be held, it was 1:00pm.
The ranch was located in a suburb of Quito, and I guess it has some affiliation with the University. The advertisements for this party has promised, food, a DJ, dancing, games, and beer, which sounds great, except when we got there, there was only....nothing. We got off the bus only to find a tent set up with some chairs and banquet tables set up. There were no school employees to welcome us or tell us what to do. It felt like someone had invited us all to a wedding and then forgot to actually plan the party, or even show up for it. So that was weird. We all shuffled around aimlessly for a bit.
Luckily, before things got TOO uncomfortable, some of the international student leaders and Ecuadorian "buddies" showed up and broke us up into groups to play some "traditional Ecuadorian games." We were all a little more than reluctant...after a late Friday night who can really claim to be THAT interested in party games more appropriately suited to the abilities of a 6 year old? But, being the good sports that we are (and knowing that out return buses weren't coming for 7 hours) we set off for the playing fields.
My group's first game was a typical field day race where you balance an egg on a spoon, put said spoon in your mouth, and trot around for a bit. Easy. My team was slated to compete in the second heat, so naturally I was paying CLOSE attention to the other competitors to see how to gain an advantage. Spoon in teeth? Lips? Head tilted? Slow and steady? Go for broke? The possibilities were endless. I was intently zeroed in on the race, when this Ecuadorian girl comes up and hands me a tray of like 60 eggs.. Thinking this was for me to prepare for my race, I took them. She then instructed me and my friends to "throw one." What?? I turned to my friend to make sure I hadn't made a translation error. I hadn't. I turned to the girl, "throw them? why? at what?" "AT THEM!" she shouted in English. I laughed nervously. Surely she could not be serious...I was not going to throw raw eggs at the people who I am supposed to be trying to make friends with. We backed away slowly, but by this point the Ecuadorian was getting frustrated. The race was well underway, and so far nobody had any yolk on their face. She took matters into her own hands, and started firing away. Soon, all the Ecuadorians joined in. I literally could not believe this was happening. They had no mercy, chucking eggs at us from all directions, rolling them under our feet, it was crazy. Then it was our turn to race, and despite being fired upon by the Ecuas, my team managed to pull out a victory.
Our next game was a game more typical of the ones played in villages around festival days. How it works is there is a large wooden pole, and you have to climb it. If you can touch the cow/pig/bushel of wheat at the top, you get to take it home! However, by the time we approached this telephone pole height piece of (really, really smooth) wood, we were already soaking in egg yolk and were feeling less than enthusiastic about the prospect of being able to climb what was essentially a fireman's pole. The Ecuadorians kept saying it was possible though, and that we were really wimpy if we didn't at least try it.
I kept having Mulan flashbacks, and soon the group started to feel a little more hopeful that maybe someone, could by some miracle, climb up the pole. Mulan could do it. There are, however two main differences between what happens in the pole-climbing scene in Mulan and what happened with us. 1) we lacked those cords with heavy medallions attached to both ends that proved to be extremely useful and 2) Mulan is a cartoon. Needless to say, all we managed to do was sort of jump up, hug the pole in sort of a sloth pose, and then slowly slide down until our toes touched solid earth in a dust poof of defeat and shame. Unsuccessful.
After the party games, we were finally allowed to start eating and drinking, and from there the party actually became really fun. Lots of dancing, chatting, and meeting new people filled the day, and I was actually glad I had stayed in Quito to attend the party.
So, Saturday morning rolled around and I found myself waiting outside of one of Quito's stadiums with roughly 60 other gringos who were waiting to board the buses that the university had told us would arrive at 10. It was then 10:15, no buses in sight. At 10:30, I led a little expedition of people on a walk around the stadium, to see if by any chance the buses had parked somewhere else instead of right in front of the stadium, in the most clearly parked, wide open parking lot available. You never know...so, we saw some buses that looked suspiciously like the charter buses we were waiting for, only not a single one of them had a driver. Huh. We walked back to the group of gringos, defeated. We then waited until 11:00, when finally those buses drove up to find us...hooray! We then boarded the buses, only to sit there till 11:30, when we started moving. After driving for a SOLID 10 meters, a car hit one of the buses. Oh my god. Not a serious hit, but enough to merit some arguing and paperwork, which took a solid 30 minutes. FINALLY, when we arrived at the ranch where the party was to be held, it was 1:00pm.
The ranch was located in a suburb of Quito, and I guess it has some affiliation with the University. The advertisements for this party has promised, food, a DJ, dancing, games, and beer, which sounds great, except when we got there, there was only....nothing. We got off the bus only to find a tent set up with some chairs and banquet tables set up. There were no school employees to welcome us or tell us what to do. It felt like someone had invited us all to a wedding and then forgot to actually plan the party, or even show up for it. So that was weird. We all shuffled around aimlessly for a bit.
Luckily, before things got TOO uncomfortable, some of the international student leaders and Ecuadorian "buddies" showed up and broke us up into groups to play some "traditional Ecuadorian games." We were all a little more than reluctant...after a late Friday night who can really claim to be THAT interested in party games more appropriately suited to the abilities of a 6 year old? But, being the good sports that we are (and knowing that out return buses weren't coming for 7 hours) we set off for the playing fields.
My group's first game was a typical field day race where you balance an egg on a spoon, put said spoon in your mouth, and trot around for a bit. Easy. My team was slated to compete in the second heat, so naturally I was paying CLOSE attention to the other competitors to see how to gain an advantage. Spoon in teeth? Lips? Head tilted? Slow and steady? Go for broke? The possibilities were endless. I was intently zeroed in on the race, when this Ecuadorian girl comes up and hands me a tray of like 60 eggs.. Thinking this was for me to prepare for my race, I took them. She then instructed me and my friends to "throw one." What?? I turned to my friend to make sure I hadn't made a translation error. I hadn't. I turned to the girl, "throw them? why? at what?" "AT THEM!" she shouted in English. I laughed nervously. Surely she could not be serious...I was not going to throw raw eggs at the people who I am supposed to be trying to make friends with. We backed away slowly, but by this point the Ecuadorian was getting frustrated. The race was well underway, and so far nobody had any yolk on their face. She took matters into her own hands, and started firing away. Soon, all the Ecuadorians joined in. I literally could not believe this was happening. They had no mercy, chucking eggs at us from all directions, rolling them under our feet, it was crazy. Then it was our turn to race, and despite being fired upon by the Ecuas, my team managed to pull out a victory.
Our next game was a game more typical of the ones played in villages around festival days. How it works is there is a large wooden pole, and you have to climb it. If you can touch the cow/pig/bushel of wheat at the top, you get to take it home! However, by the time we approached this telephone pole height piece of (really, really smooth) wood, we were already soaking in egg yolk and were feeling less than enthusiastic about the prospect of being able to climb what was essentially a fireman's pole. The Ecuadorians kept saying it was possible though, and that we were really wimpy if we didn't at least try it.
I kept having Mulan flashbacks, and soon the group started to feel a little more hopeful that maybe someone, could by some miracle, climb up the pole. Mulan could do it. There are, however two main differences between what happens in the pole-climbing scene in Mulan and what happened with us. 1) we lacked those cords with heavy medallions attached to both ends that proved to be extremely useful and 2) Mulan is a cartoon. Needless to say, all we managed to do was sort of jump up, hug the pole in sort of a sloth pose, and then slowly slide down until our toes touched solid earth in a dust poof of defeat and shame. Unsuccessful.
After the party games, we were finally allowed to start eating and drinking, and from there the party actually became really fun. Lots of dancing, chatting, and meeting new people filled the day, and I was actually glad I had stayed in Quito to attend the party.
Loooongggg Overdue
August 31st, 2011
Today I became an Ecuadorian. How? By taking falsifying government documents and taking advantage of a corrupt government system, of course! I know, I know. I've never skipped class (ok, well there was that ONE psych class I accidentally slept through, but the fact that I remember it so vividly and with so much guilt shows how out of character it was for me), am reluctant to jay-walk, and NEVER eat the snacks in the so-called "free food aisle" of Hannaford's, because that is stealing. So you may not believe me when I say that I am most definitely an illegal alien here in Ecuador. But rest assured, I am. Here's how this happened...
So, when you come to Ecuador as an exchange student you must register your Visa within 25 days of arriving in the country. Then, also within 25 days, you must use your registered Visa to apply for a Censo, which is the Ecuadorian national identity card for foreigners. I registered my Visa on my 20th day here, and applied for my Censo on my 32nd, mostly because I was too lazy to do it beforehand. For a country that has it's own time "hora Ecuatoriana", which means that everything happens a half hour late, I pretty much expected them to not care at all that I was a couple days late. How wrong I was.
As I sat in line at the Foreign Services Office, I practiced my best "Aye, Dio Senor! I thought I had 25 business days to register my Censo. Perdoneme!" speech, and my very best "lost gringa in a strange country" face" that has come in handy many a time here. After waiting in line for two hours and growing increasingly nervous, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when the clerk flipped right past the page with the date on it. Little did I know, this sigh was premature. So, so, sooooo premature.
The clerk (actually an immigration policeman) flipped through my papers, and said "I have bad news for you." Shit. And he pointed to a date on my Visa that someone in Immigrations had forgotten to date. He then proceeded to explain that in order for him to give me a Censo I would need to go to the Visa processing Offices and have them re-date it. The only problem with this solution was that if I went back to that office, someone would surely realize that my Visa had technically sort of expired, and I would have to pay a fine of a couple thousand dollars, or maybe be deported...wasn't really sure. At this point, my host mom and I were both really stressed out and worried about my being sent to the US of A, so naturally we went right to her mom's house to enjoy a nice long lunch. Typical Ecuadorian reaction there.
Then, after lunch, we had a sort of family meeting to decide what we should do. After weighing all the legal options, we decided that forgery was the only option. After all, the missing date had simply been written in with a Bic pen...which we TOTALLY had lying around the house. Perfect! Then, we used my friend Katie's passport as a template, and had a little contest to see who could most closely imitate the handwriting of a government official. My cousin was determined to be the most skilled, and she did the honors of falsifying a government document. Mischief managed.
Except for one teeennyyy problem, we sort of messed up the year that she was supposed to write. So my passport now said that my Visa expires in August of 2011, when it was supposed to say 2012. Double shit. Lacking any other better option, we just sort of changed the 1 into a 2. It looked sort of like this: 2012. In other words, it looked terrible, and like we had done it in our living room. Which, of course, we had.
Anyways, Karla (my host mom) called her dad, who called his friend who just happens to be the head of immigrations and I guess he sort of warned the guys in the Foreign Affairs office that I would be coming in the next day, and that they should help me out. Thank God. The next day, we ran in at 8am, presented the same clerk with my homemade passport, and got the Censo. The clerk had clearly been instructed to ignore our hackjob, but he couldn't help mocking us a little bit. "Oh, what idiot wrote in these numbers, the made a mistake again?" "You didn't write this in at home, did you?" Whatever, he still gave me the card.
Woohoo!! So illegal, but it felt so good.
Today I became an Ecuadorian. How? By taking falsifying government documents and taking advantage of a corrupt government system, of course! I know, I know. I've never skipped class (ok, well there was that ONE psych class I accidentally slept through, but the fact that I remember it so vividly and with so much guilt shows how out of character it was for me), am reluctant to jay-walk, and NEVER eat the snacks in the so-called "free food aisle" of Hannaford's, because that is stealing. So you may not believe me when I say that I am most definitely an illegal alien here in Ecuador. But rest assured, I am. Here's how this happened...
So, when you come to Ecuador as an exchange student you must register your Visa within 25 days of arriving in the country. Then, also within 25 days, you must use your registered Visa to apply for a Censo, which is the Ecuadorian national identity card for foreigners. I registered my Visa on my 20th day here, and applied for my Censo on my 32nd, mostly because I was too lazy to do it beforehand. For a country that has it's own time "hora Ecuatoriana", which means that everything happens a half hour late, I pretty much expected them to not care at all that I was a couple days late. How wrong I was.
As I sat in line at the Foreign Services Office, I practiced my best "Aye, Dio Senor! I thought I had 25 business days to register my Censo. Perdoneme!" speech, and my very best "lost gringa in a strange country" face" that has come in handy many a time here. After waiting in line for two hours and growing increasingly nervous, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when the clerk flipped right past the page with the date on it. Little did I know, this sigh was premature. So, so, sooooo premature.
The clerk (actually an immigration policeman) flipped through my papers, and said "I have bad news for you." Shit. And he pointed to a date on my Visa that someone in Immigrations had forgotten to date. He then proceeded to explain that in order for him to give me a Censo I would need to go to the Visa processing Offices and have them re-date it. The only problem with this solution was that if I went back to that office, someone would surely realize that my Visa had technically sort of expired, and I would have to pay a fine of a couple thousand dollars, or maybe be deported...wasn't really sure. At this point, my host mom and I were both really stressed out and worried about my being sent to the US of A, so naturally we went right to her mom's house to enjoy a nice long lunch. Typical Ecuadorian reaction there.
Then, after lunch, we had a sort of family meeting to decide what we should do. After weighing all the legal options, we decided that forgery was the only option. After all, the missing date had simply been written in with a Bic pen...which we TOTALLY had lying around the house. Perfect! Then, we used my friend Katie's passport as a template, and had a little contest to see who could most closely imitate the handwriting of a government official. My cousin was determined to be the most skilled, and she did the honors of falsifying a government document. Mischief managed.
Except for one teeennyyy problem, we sort of messed up the year that she was supposed to write. So my passport now said that my Visa expires in August of 2011, when it was supposed to say 2012. Double shit. Lacking any other better option, we just sort of changed the 1 into a 2. It looked sort of like this: 2012. In other words, it looked terrible, and like we had done it in our living room. Which, of course, we had.
Anyways, Karla (my host mom) called her dad, who called his friend who just happens to be the head of immigrations and I guess he sort of warned the guys in the Foreign Affairs office that I would be coming in the next day, and that they should help me out. Thank God. The next day, we ran in at 8am, presented the same clerk with my homemade passport, and got the Censo. The clerk had clearly been instructed to ignore our hackjob, but he couldn't help mocking us a little bit. "Oh, what idiot wrote in these numbers, the made a mistake again?" "You didn't write this in at home, did you?" Whatever, he still gave me the card.
Woohoo!! So illegal, but it felt so good.
Monday, September 5, 2011
August 24th, 2011
SE HABLA ESPANOL
So I’m speaking a lot of Spanish these days. Mostly, it’s going pretty well…but as would be expected, it’s also waaayyy harder to be somewhat interesting/funny in one’s second language (if you can even call it that). I am enjoying the chance to get to hear how people really speak: a lot of times in Spanish classes we learned really Spain-specific, formal manners of speaking that don’t translate well to everyday life in South America . Because I am too lazy to write coherent paragraphs right now, I’ve organized my experiences as a gringa trying to speak Spanish in the following list.
1) People here LOVE to use the diminutive forms of nouns. That is, in Spanish you put “ita” or “ito” onto the end of a noun to indicate that it is remarkably small. Only here, you put “ita” or “ito” to indicate that you feel affection towards the noun in question, or towards the subject that the noun is acting upon. And Ecuadorians are affectionate folk. Therefore, almost everything you say changes to its diminutive. I am often called “mi hijita” which means “my little daughter”, and every morning am offered a “técito” or “little cup of tea.” Sometimes they use the “ito” to make offensive things less offensive. For example, a neighbor referred to someone as “gordito,” theoretically to indicate that although he may be fat, I do still feel affection towards him.
2) Ecuador
You would never learn in a typical Spanish class. For example, they say “chompa” instead of “chaqueta”, “carro” instead of “coche”, and absolutely everything is “chevere,” which means “cool.” If you ever plan on visiting Ecuador
3) For the most part, I can understand what is being said in Spanish when someone is
Either a professor addressing a quiet classroom or someone speaking directly to me. I tend to tune out a bit though when I’m with a group of 3 or Ecuadorians who are all talking to each other about something not really related to me. It’s hard to listen to multiple people talking at once with a lot of slang and excitement thrown in. Apparently I get a confused/spacey/bored look on my face, because everyone in a while in the middle of such an Ecuadorian conversation, someone will suddenly feel the need to make some dull comment related to me that I can understand. They say it in the same tone of voice that the parent of a bored child who has been forced to attend an adult dinner party would say something in an attempt to get the child to liven up a bit. “Today, Timmy did watercolors and painted a tree” is not so far removed from “Today, Olivia read outside on the terrace.” Wow! I then smile and nod vigorously.
Two other Ecuadorians, and whenever we fall into a silence, I assume it’s my fault because I’m not being foreign and interesting. So, naturally, I feel compelled to make some inane comment or another. The following are some direct quotes from yours truly (translated into English, but don’t worry, they were just as (if not more) stupid in Spanish): “there is a lot of space in this lawn” “there are a lot of buildings on this street” “I like this painting because it has a lot of red.” Needless to say, after these thought-provoking and original tidbits conversation resumed with unprecedented energy.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
August 21th, 2011
Altitude's a bitch. Excuse my less than elegant language, but it really is all I can come up with to describe what it feels like to be at 9895 feet above sea level after having lived for 19 years at roughly 127 feet above sea level. I have a constant head ache here that makes me feel both extremely light-headed and as if one thousand anvils are trying to escape from the confines of my skull. The nausea and dizziness are fun too! Remind me to invest in some cocaine tea.
Despite my crippled physical state, I am so happy to be here in Quito! My apartment is definitely a far cry from the sparse simplicity of the jungle house. I am living with Gabo and Karla, a young couple who own a papeleria, or papergoods store. Karla's cousin, Gabby, who is 25, also lives with us. We also live in close close proximity to many of Karla's other family members. So, while technically only 4 of us live in the apartment, there are usually always some other family members dropping by unannounced. It sometimes seems as if 70% of our time here is spent bopping from one relative's home to another having cafecitos, which is basically just a little get together to eat some nice pastries, coffee, and lemonade. Everyone in the family has been really welcoming and eager to get to know me. I'm SO glad I've had the last couple of weeks to warm-up the old Spanish, because I am definitely using it. Most people I talk to seem really excited that I'm willing to speak so much to them, because I think the exchange students they have had in the past were a bit more timid. Sometimes the last thing I want to do is think of some chatty bit of small talk (which is tiresome in English), but I'm trying to force myself to speak Spanish as much as I can.
So I arrived on Thursday night to the apartment, which is located in a really nice part of Quito. I took a taxi from the bus station, in which I was offered a job! The driver and I were chatting for a bit and it turns out Cesar is really just a part-time driver, and his real job is as a tour guide. He does trips for groups all over Quito and it seems like they go to some really cool places. Anyways, I guess his English-speaking partner just left him, so he was looking for someone else to take his place. I suppose I was the first English speaking candidate that crossed his path, so I was offered the job! It would be a pretty awesome way to see Ecuador...if only my visa didn't prevent me from working in Ecuador. Don't want to risk deportation... When we got to the corner that the apartment was located on, I was a bit confused because all I had been told was that the house was on the corner of 2 streets. The thing about that is that when 2 streets intersect, there are 4 corners to choose from. Cesar wouldn't let me leave the taxi until I was absolutely sure about which house it was, but because I didn't have a cell phone, this was difficult. He let me use his, then carried all of my luggage to the front door of the apartment building. I have been so lucky with meeting really nice people in my time here in Ecuador!
Friday was my first day of orientation. When I woke up, I was treated to my first glass of what would be many, many, many glasses of juice. Ecuadorians love their juice. Every meal includes AT LEAST one type of freshly made fruit juice, and it is treated with the reverence due to a side dish rather than a lowly beverage. Then, it was time for school! To get there, we had to take not one, but two different cross- and out-of-city buses. Since we all know that one could train a giant squid to find it's way to 5 destinations more easily than one could train me to find my way to 1 destination, you will not be surprised to know that I did not have the faintest idea where we were going. I am going to be devoting roughly 98% of my brainpower to finding my way to school every day.
Once we finally got there (after about an hour of travel) I was delighted to see how pretty the campus was. It's not residential, so is fairly small, but the buildings all have really interesting architectural styles, and the landscaping includes a lot of tropical plants, a lagoon, and waterfall. Things were good, until we attended an orientation in which a startling amount of comparisons were made between Quito and the fair city of Bagdhad. Not exactly the "two truths and a lie"-driven orientation of Midd! Despite being terrified by the safety speeches, which included phrases such as "smash and grab", "kidnapping express", "guess which taxi driver is illegitimate...ALL of them!" , and "after 2 months you might find worms in your intestines", orientation was interesting and gave me chance to connect with some other gringos. Very excited to start school on Monday!
Despite my crippled physical state, I am so happy to be here in Quito! My apartment is definitely a far cry from the sparse simplicity of the jungle house. I am living with Gabo and Karla, a young couple who own a papeleria, or papergoods store. Karla's cousin, Gabby, who is 25, also lives with us. We also live in close close proximity to many of Karla's other family members. So, while technically only 4 of us live in the apartment, there are usually always some other family members dropping by unannounced. It sometimes seems as if 70% of our time here is spent bopping from one relative's home to another having cafecitos, which is basically just a little get together to eat some nice pastries, coffee, and lemonade. Everyone in the family has been really welcoming and eager to get to know me. I'm SO glad I've had the last couple of weeks to warm-up the old Spanish, because I am definitely using it. Most people I talk to seem really excited that I'm willing to speak so much to them, because I think the exchange students they have had in the past were a bit more timid. Sometimes the last thing I want to do is think of some chatty bit of small talk (which is tiresome in English), but I'm trying to force myself to speak Spanish as much as I can.
So I arrived on Thursday night to the apartment, which is located in a really nice part of Quito. I took a taxi from the bus station, in which I was offered a job! The driver and I were chatting for a bit and it turns out Cesar is really just a part-time driver, and his real job is as a tour guide. He does trips for groups all over Quito and it seems like they go to some really cool places. Anyways, I guess his English-speaking partner just left him, so he was looking for someone else to take his place. I suppose I was the first English speaking candidate that crossed his path, so I was offered the job! It would be a pretty awesome way to see Ecuador...if only my visa didn't prevent me from working in Ecuador. Don't want to risk deportation... When we got to the corner that the apartment was located on, I was a bit confused because all I had been told was that the house was on the corner of 2 streets. The thing about that is that when 2 streets intersect, there are 4 corners to choose from. Cesar wouldn't let me leave the taxi until I was absolutely sure about which house it was, but because I didn't have a cell phone, this was difficult. He let me use his, then carried all of my luggage to the front door of the apartment building. I have been so lucky with meeting really nice people in my time here in Ecuador!
Friday was my first day of orientation. When I woke up, I was treated to my first glass of what would be many, many, many glasses of juice. Ecuadorians love their juice. Every meal includes AT LEAST one type of freshly made fruit juice, and it is treated with the reverence due to a side dish rather than a lowly beverage. Then, it was time for school! To get there, we had to take not one, but two different cross- and out-of-city buses. Since we all know that one could train a giant squid to find it's way to 5 destinations more easily than one could train me to find my way to 1 destination, you will not be surprised to know that I did not have the faintest idea where we were going. I am going to be devoting roughly 98% of my brainpower to finding my way to school every day.
Once we finally got there (after about an hour of travel) I was delighted to see how pretty the campus was. It's not residential, so is fairly small, but the buildings all have really interesting architectural styles, and the landscaping includes a lot of tropical plants, a lagoon, and waterfall. Things were good, until we attended an orientation in which a startling amount of comparisons were made between Quito and the fair city of Bagdhad. Not exactly the "two truths and a lie"-driven orientation of Midd! Despite being terrified by the safety speeches, which included phrases such as "smash and grab", "kidnapping express", "guess which taxi driver is illegitimate...ALL of them!" , and "after 2 months you might find worms in your intestines", orientation was interesting and gave me chance to connect with some other gringos. Very excited to start school on Monday!
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