Just got back from visiting friend in Catamayo and Loja.
Catamayo: a dusty town where roosters woke us up every time we tried to nap. Full of kids playing in mud.
Loja: the big nearby city of about 200,000 people. Went to see some live music with songs I'd never heard, but we got to sit with some introverted university students who reminded me of friends from back home. Also got to eat waffles with ice cream and fruit for dinner and schwarma for dessert- incredible. How I miss those combinations of food.
I sat next to the strangest man on the bus back to Zaruma. He was an ex-diplomat and was regaling me with stories from his youth. The bus was overpacked, so people left big burlap sacks of fruit down in the aisles. I got elbowed in the face at one point, because when there are no seats left, people stand in the aisles, and lean against the passengers. We went down an "illegal" road but after the police officers stopped us, the bus driver took him outside to "talk", or to bribe him with money, and within ten minutes we were chugging back along the road. Really, a typical claustrophobic bus ride of Ecuador.
My goals for this week are to figure out what I'm doing all "summer" break, since school is practically over. Wish me luck. It's like a new slate all over again.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Guayaquil, you tug at my heart
The other day my filling fell out of my mouth. I dutifully called the Peace Corps and they told me I had two choices. Take a 14 hour bus up to Quito, the capital, a city I know semi well (thanks to many good times getting lost there, strange cab conversations) or take a shorter, 4 hour buseta ride to the crime ridden, ¨scary¨ city of Guayaquil. I chose the latter. Thus begins our story.
Guayaquil is the biggest city in Ecuador. It´s the opposite of Quito. While Quito is conservative, cold (not really cold...more brisk...but for Ecuadorians who don´t know the true coldness of ¨snow¨, anything below fifty five degrees is ¨bien frio¨), Guayaquil is HOT. Hot, humid, liberal. Full of some of the ritziest malls in the country and the poorest peoople. Full of businesmen in expensive looking suits and poor street kids, four or five years old, begging clubgoers for change at 2am. Truly. It tugged at every emotion I had.
I started the day out in the dentist´s office, then met a friend and went walking up over 400 steps to the top of the city. It was HOT. Half of Guayaquil also looks like someone dumped Crayola colors all over it. This part is called Las Penas. So, on one side you have the Guayas River, and then huge billowing gray skyscapers, and then on another side you have Las Penas, which is so colorful it makes you happy just looking at it.
I got to see some people from training I didn´t know too well but who are fantastic and hilarious. We sat and did what Peace Corps Volunteers do best when they are together: bitch! Vent! Speak in English! Make vague cultural references that people in site shake their heads over but that we understand. Yearn about far away love.
The night was topped off with STUFFED CRUST PIZZA from Pizza Hut. You Americans are so incredibly lucky to have access to this luxury with frequency. You could even get it delivered to your door! You could eat it all day, every day, and never even have to leave your host.This, my friends, is a great difference. Here in Ecuador, most places don´t have food delivery. I miss it sorely. I will go home and not leave my apartment for a good month because of the awesome power of food delivery. Can´t wait.
Anyways, beer, pizza, and good people made for a lovely night. I´m always surprised how such different people who, under normal circumstances, wouldn´t be friends, can come together and connect because of the incredibly strange situation we´re all collectively in. It´s one of the best parts about Peace Corps.
Today, I wandered around for a few hours on my own. I found this park called the Iguana Park. People friendly iguanas bask in the grass and walk around on the stones, looking for lettuce. They are very energy efficient, either spending their time not moving a muscle, or running towards a piece of lettuce. Smart creatures. There were also a group of turtles. The park workers were cleaning out their little lake area and put all the turtles on the other side of this two foot high rock wall. The turtles kept trying to climb over each other to get back into the ¨lake¨. They would get halfway up the rocks, and then fall back down. Or, if one did reach blissful freedom, a worker would come over, grab it by the tail (ouch! do you think that hurts the turtle?) and put it back in its confinement. And there were pidgeons- erratic pidgeons- who would all randomly fly from one part of the park to another, as if they all had collective thoughts. I gave a few some food and they all started following me, for a second I thought I was going to get stampeded to death by those birds.
Guayaquil was the first time I´ve seen true, genuine, poverty in this country. Some people dress in really raggedy clothes and beg. There are MANy street kids at night. Girls who aren´t older than 5 or 6 who are begging customers in bars and night clubs for money. These kids have to stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning, begging. It´s a really sad reality of this country. I´m so glad there are volunteers here. Between the HIV, the poverty, and the violence that goes unpunished, this city has a lot, lot, lot of problems. For that reason, Volunteers are told to avoid it. Many foreigners have been robbed or involved in taxi kidnappings, and everyday on the news, there is a shooting or a robbery in this city. So it´s really everything- hot, humid, incredibly friendly, but also dangerous, congested, and sometimes overwhelming.
Here are some pictures:
The Iguana Park, where the iguanas will come up to any human who may, possibly, have food.
Las Penas, a crayon makers fantasy
That´s all for now. I´m about to enjoy some more delicious American food (hey bus terminal!) before leaving the craziness. I´ll miss you, Guayaquil. You´re like the Amy Winehouse or Mick Jagger of Ecuadorian cities. Unpredictable, seductive, exciitng, scary. See you again.
Guayaquil is the biggest city in Ecuador. It´s the opposite of Quito. While Quito is conservative, cold (not really cold...more brisk...but for Ecuadorians who don´t know the true coldness of ¨snow¨, anything below fifty five degrees is ¨bien frio¨), Guayaquil is HOT. Hot, humid, liberal. Full of some of the ritziest malls in the country and the poorest peoople. Full of businesmen in expensive looking suits and poor street kids, four or five years old, begging clubgoers for change at 2am. Truly. It tugged at every emotion I had.
I started the day out in the dentist´s office, then met a friend and went walking up over 400 steps to the top of the city. It was HOT. Half of Guayaquil also looks like someone dumped Crayola colors all over it. This part is called Las Penas. So, on one side you have the Guayas River, and then huge billowing gray skyscapers, and then on another side you have Las Penas, which is so colorful it makes you happy just looking at it.
I got to see some people from training I didn´t know too well but who are fantastic and hilarious. We sat and did what Peace Corps Volunteers do best when they are together: bitch! Vent! Speak in English! Make vague cultural references that people in site shake their heads over but that we understand. Yearn about far away love.
The night was topped off with STUFFED CRUST PIZZA from Pizza Hut. You Americans are so incredibly lucky to have access to this luxury with frequency. You could even get it delivered to your door! You could eat it all day, every day, and never even have to leave your host.This, my friends, is a great difference. Here in Ecuador, most places don´t have food delivery. I miss it sorely. I will go home and not leave my apartment for a good month because of the awesome power of food delivery. Can´t wait.
Anyways, beer, pizza, and good people made for a lovely night. I´m always surprised how such different people who, under normal circumstances, wouldn´t be friends, can come together and connect because of the incredibly strange situation we´re all collectively in. It´s one of the best parts about Peace Corps.
Today, I wandered around for a few hours on my own. I found this park called the Iguana Park. People friendly iguanas bask in the grass and walk around on the stones, looking for lettuce. They are very energy efficient, either spending their time not moving a muscle, or running towards a piece of lettuce. Smart creatures. There were also a group of turtles. The park workers were cleaning out their little lake area and put all the turtles on the other side of this two foot high rock wall. The turtles kept trying to climb over each other to get back into the ¨lake¨. They would get halfway up the rocks, and then fall back down. Or, if one did reach blissful freedom, a worker would come over, grab it by the tail (ouch! do you think that hurts the turtle?) and put it back in its confinement. And there were pidgeons- erratic pidgeons- who would all randomly fly from one part of the park to another, as if they all had collective thoughts. I gave a few some food and they all started following me, for a second I thought I was going to get stampeded to death by those birds.
Guayaquil was the first time I´ve seen true, genuine, poverty in this country. Some people dress in really raggedy clothes and beg. There are MANy street kids at night. Girls who aren´t older than 5 or 6 who are begging customers in bars and night clubs for money. These kids have to stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning, begging. It´s a really sad reality of this country. I´m so glad there are volunteers here. Between the HIV, the poverty, and the violence that goes unpunished, this city has a lot, lot, lot of problems. For that reason, Volunteers are told to avoid it. Many foreigners have been robbed or involved in taxi kidnappings, and everyday on the news, there is a shooting or a robbery in this city. So it´s really everything- hot, humid, incredibly friendly, but also dangerous, congested, and sometimes overwhelming.
Here are some pictures:
The Iguana Park, where the iguanas will come up to any human who may, possibly, have food.
Las Penas, a crayon makers fantasy
That´s all for now. I´m about to enjoy some more delicious American food (hey bus terminal!) before leaving the craziness. I´ll miss you, Guayaquil. You´re like the Amy Winehouse or Mick Jagger of Ecuadorian cities. Unpredictable, seductive, exciitng, scary. See you again.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Happy New Year!
So my New Year´s Resolution is to write in this thing more. My mom (hey, mom!) calls this blog the ¨thing I never write in.¨ Subtle, mom, subtle. But she´s right. This blog offers a very limited view of what I go through on a daily basis, or what life here is really like. I´m going to try and change that for the new year. I want to be posting weekly, not semi-monthly, even if things suck, even if there is nothing to talk about, even if the most exciting part of my day was watching American Horror Story.
So, with that, I´ve been here for over four months now. The last time I posted was before Thanksgiving, I think, and not much has changed. It all goes in cycles. The students, the teachers, the town. Sometimes I love it and have a Pollyanna-like view of the world, and sometimes it´s awful and I don´t want to leave my house. Here is a recap of December.
In DECEMBER, tensions with some teachers came to a head. I got sick of sitting in classrooms, ¨coteaching¨ and not saying a word. I finally opened up my mouth and told the persons involved, only to find out that they were upset that my schedule was so varied. See, one teacher had to leave a class he was teaching because a parent didn´t want him there, so I had to switch my entire schedule to have a class with him. With this, I had two or three classes at the same time, and had to pick which one to go to. THat only caused more drama. If I went to one class more than other classes, I was viewed as favoring that teacher. And because of my noncronfrontational nature and desire to please everyone, I tried. Hard. To make everyone happy and to make them like me. But it backfired, because the resentment over having nothing to do, or being constantly pulled in different directions, piled up and piled up and suddently exploded. I found myself crying, alone, in the teacher´s lounge while it rained outside one morning, unwilling to face the teachers who didn´t let me do anything in class.
One day, earlier in training, my boss told me ¨some teachers you will love. Some you will hate. You have to deal with it.¨
And it´s true. Teaching brings out such strong emotions in you. It´s like looking into a mirror for 40 minutes that shows you all your faults. How you control a class of bored 17 year olds. How you get along with the other teacher. What to do when they don´t let you do anything.
So that was December. Slugging through the drama of the teachers and the strong desire I felt to go home.
THANKFULLY,
in an ¨How Andrea Got her Groove Back¨ moment, I did get to go home. For ten glorious days. In this time, I gorged on Bagel Bites, Bagels, pizza, Guapo´s (the best Mexican food in DC, you gotta go if you haven´t been there). I got to see friends that I made in the 90s, my big family, all my cousins who are shooting up like reeds. And Justin. And his family. Even though conversations at the house centered around the Evil of Obama and left me clenching my fork with annoyance, it was good to see them. I feel like I´ve been restored. And it is such a good reminder that there is a place in the world where I really do have friends. Good, trustworthy, honest, funny friends. Sometimes here I feel like this friendless alien who everyone knows. Like Courtney Love, minus the drug problem.
So for the New Year, I just want to figure out how to live in this new home. Understand the people. Integrate.
I think it´s happening, slowly. Very, very, slowly. The people are sniffing me out, and me them. We´re all trying to see if we can trust each other and if this thing called friendship is worth it. I´m in my host sister´s house now, surrounded by her and her family. The oldest, 13, and her friends, are all sitting around the table, studying for exams. It´s raining like hell, and has been since 4pm. It´s cold. Maybe in the 50s, which is as cold as it gets here. Teeth are chattering. One teacher showed up in a cotton pea coat today, which was hilarious. The people here have a flair for drama, in any situation.
I have to go because there is a gaggle of preteens who want to play Wii and check Facebook. Some things, regardless of country, never change.
So, with that, I´ve been here for over four months now. The last time I posted was before Thanksgiving, I think, and not much has changed. It all goes in cycles. The students, the teachers, the town. Sometimes I love it and have a Pollyanna-like view of the world, and sometimes it´s awful and I don´t want to leave my house. Here is a recap of December.
In DECEMBER, tensions with some teachers came to a head. I got sick of sitting in classrooms, ¨coteaching¨ and not saying a word. I finally opened up my mouth and told the persons involved, only to find out that they were upset that my schedule was so varied. See, one teacher had to leave a class he was teaching because a parent didn´t want him there, so I had to switch my entire schedule to have a class with him. With this, I had two or three classes at the same time, and had to pick which one to go to. THat only caused more drama. If I went to one class more than other classes, I was viewed as favoring that teacher. And because of my noncronfrontational nature and desire to please everyone, I tried. Hard. To make everyone happy and to make them like me. But it backfired, because the resentment over having nothing to do, or being constantly pulled in different directions, piled up and piled up and suddently exploded. I found myself crying, alone, in the teacher´s lounge while it rained outside one morning, unwilling to face the teachers who didn´t let me do anything in class.
One day, earlier in training, my boss told me ¨some teachers you will love. Some you will hate. You have to deal with it.¨
And it´s true. Teaching brings out such strong emotions in you. It´s like looking into a mirror for 40 minutes that shows you all your faults. How you control a class of bored 17 year olds. How you get along with the other teacher. What to do when they don´t let you do anything.
So that was December. Slugging through the drama of the teachers and the strong desire I felt to go home.
THANKFULLY,
in an ¨How Andrea Got her Groove Back¨ moment, I did get to go home. For ten glorious days. In this time, I gorged on Bagel Bites, Bagels, pizza, Guapo´s (the best Mexican food in DC, you gotta go if you haven´t been there). I got to see friends that I made in the 90s, my big family, all my cousins who are shooting up like reeds. And Justin. And his family. Even though conversations at the house centered around the Evil of Obama and left me clenching my fork with annoyance, it was good to see them. I feel like I´ve been restored. And it is such a good reminder that there is a place in the world where I really do have friends. Good, trustworthy, honest, funny friends. Sometimes here I feel like this friendless alien who everyone knows. Like Courtney Love, minus the drug problem.
So for the New Year, I just want to figure out how to live in this new home. Understand the people. Integrate.
I think it´s happening, slowly. Very, very, slowly. The people are sniffing me out, and me them. We´re all trying to see if we can trust each other and if this thing called friendship is worth it. I´m in my host sister´s house now, surrounded by her and her family. The oldest, 13, and her friends, are all sitting around the table, studying for exams. It´s raining like hell, and has been since 4pm. It´s cold. Maybe in the 50s, which is as cold as it gets here. Teeth are chattering. One teacher showed up in a cotton pea coat today, which was hilarious. The people here have a flair for drama, in any situation.
I have to go because there is a gaggle of preteens who want to play Wii and check Facebook. Some things, regardless of country, never change.
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