This last week, half of the TEFL group went to Santa Elena for our very first tech trip. They put all girls in one trip, and put all of the guys in the other, so we aptly titled them the Sorority Trip and the Bro Trip. At first, I was miffed at being with the bros. I am not a bro, or a bro´s girl. My closest friends were all on the sorority trip. I didn´t know how the week of testosterone would pan out.
To get to Santa Elena, we took what felt like 60 buses to get from Tumbaco to Quito, and then from Quito to the right terminal, and then from Quito to Guayaquil, and then from Guayaquil to Santa Elena. We left at 6am. Oso, again, followed me on the bus and had to be shooed off and restrained by Marissa. We spent two harrowing hours traveling through the Andes in the Sierra. The bus made many 180 degree turns and the driver didn´t seem to slow down too much when sashaying through the mountains. That, and the flimsy barriers that separated the bus from thousand foot mountainous drops did little to soothe my nerves. Luckily, the bus attendant distracted us by putting on what may be the most bro like movie ever, a Steven Segal flick called Driven to Kill which was full of Russians, guns, blood, and half naked women. We finally got out of the Sierra and into the coast. The first thing I noticed about the coast was the muggy heat, and the colorful houses that people live in. Unlike the Sierra, the Costenos are not afraid of the rainbow. We passed houses of every color in Guayaquil. After hours, and hours, and HOURS of traveling, we finally got to Santa Elena at around 10 pm, and passed out in our hostel afterwards.
The week itself was awesome. The nice thing about the bro trip was there was very little drama. In lieu of drama, we made a game of inserting ¨bro¨ into every word. The Jacuzzi was the BroCuzzi, Luis the facilitator was Brois, and Jamito was Bromito, which is fitting because he loves bromas, or jokes. Our hostel, which had hammocks and hot water, was a block from the beach, so for two afternoons, we got to go to the beach. My first time in the Pacific! The water was warm and the waves were really small, so we stayed in the water while the sun was setting and swam around. I raced a facilitor and another Trainee, and conveniently forgot to mention to them that I used to be a swimmer. Being back in the ocean and swimming again made me feel strangely closer to home, even though I was in a different ocean on a different continent. I miss swimming deep down in my bones.
The very best part of the week were the kids we worked with, though. We went to a public high school where many of the kids didn´t have money to buy textbooks, so the teachers had to write out the lessons on the board. The classrooms didn´t have AC or glass windows, so the noises and screams from outside came right into the classroom. Many of our classes had fifty kids. The first few days, we observed the classes. Many of the English teachers had an extremely basic understanding of the language, and many were sort of thrust into the role of English teacher without any training in the language. There were a few times when we were supposed to be observing the classes and ended up giving charlas instead. The funniest one was our impromtu sex ed charla. There were four of us, three guys and me, and we tried to explain to the kids in basic English the different ways you could avoid being pregnant. Jacob asked them ¨Tell me why having a baby is always bad¨ and our facilitator starts waving her hands at him. There were many awkward silences but we got our points across, I think. My kids loved us. My favorite moment was when Jasmine and I ended up singing songs with a big group of Ecuadorian girls. They sang us some Mana and we sang them Beyonce and Lady Gaga. A girl came up to me the next day and told me how happy she was that we came to their school and how much fun we made the English classes. It almost made me cry. After teaching this week, I´m really pumped to get to site and start teaching. I know now that I can do it, and that teenagers will be hard but rewarding to work with.
Yesterday was one of the best days I´ve had here so far. We went to the Gay Pride parade in Quito, and somehow ended up marching in it with some other PCVs. Luckily, we were right behind the trolley that blasted music and had gyrating drag queens dancing on the sides. The parade started out really small. There were a few rainbow balloons and flags and one float. But as the day wore on, more and more people joined, until we were this giant, dancing, rainbow flag waving swell that filled up the streets of the Mariscal. There were so many wonderful drag queens, including this one who literally looked like a giant, with seven inch platform shoes and a long black wig. My favorite was this one wearing giant wire angel wings and and angel outfit, who kissed me when I told him that he was bonita. Afterwards, we went dancing and the one Ecuadorian I danced with told me that everything about my friends screaming ¨gringa¨. It probably didnt help that we were swaying around the dance floor and do si doing. Oh well. There are two years to shed the gringa ness.
Tomorrow is the Fourth of July, and then the week after, we get our sites!! I wonder where I will be. In two weeks, I´ll tell yall. I dont even know what to hope for right now. I did love the coast, but really hate the moscas. Loja would be beautiful, and the Amazon would be sick also. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
week four
Tomorrow, half of the TEFL group is going to the coast for our very first tech trip. The bus ride is around 13 hours from here to there. Pray that I dont get horrendous diarrhea and am passed out for most of it. My host mom says that it is so hot there that she never wants to eat anything, only to drink water. And she told me to beware of the moscas, or mosquitoes, that live there. I have enough problems not scratching my mosquito bites here in the Sierra. I´m tempted to sleep with my bottle of insect repellent and to wear long clothes for the whole week to avoid them. They truly are the worst thing about the country, and they love my gringa blood.
This week has been quite duro, or long. We gave our first talk, called a charla, to a group of sixth graders this week about gender roles in the media. We cut out pictures of Justin Biebs and Katy Perry and asked them what they thought of them, and then had them cut out pictures in magazines of people who were sexy, macho, successful, and modest. Then, they got up in front of their classmates and talked about what all of these concepts meant. I was astounded that these prepubescent, sixth grade boys picked photos of scantily clad girls and said that ¨sexy meant wearing only a little clothing,¨ but that ¨modesty meant dressing nicely and having people respect you.¨ Then they started asking each other questions and picking apart each concept. They high fived us on the way out and cheered as we left. It was a promising first charla.
The sessions this last week felt like they dragged on, and on, and on. My Spanish does not seem to be getting better, and I apparently insert ¨like¨ into my sentences. In Spain, and after Spain, I knew I could speak Spanish. I knew it because I dreamed in Spanish. I knew it because I would talk to Cristobal for hours in Spanish on the phone, since he did not speak English. It feels like all of the Spanish has oozed out of my brain, and I am now an incoherent valley girl who is trying to make herself understood. I tried to tell my host dad about the Ecuador vs. Mexico game last night, but he thought I said ¨medico¨ and was talking about my host mom´s headache. I just wish I could be completely immersed in Spanish instead of being surrounded by gringas all day and night. That is the only way it will get better. We are reading this pesado, pesado book, ¨The country of little Manuel¨, that makes me sleepy whenever I open it. I don´t care about Manuelito´s adventures, I can´t understand them since half of the words in the book are not in my Spanish dictionary. Thankfully, my host mom and brother are awesome. My host mom always asks me about my day, my family, my boyfriend. She is my one tie to authentically speaking the language. Without her, most of my words would be in English.
I have gotten to disfrutarme, or enjoy myself, too. We went to a friendly match of Ecuador versus Mexico yesterday. It started raining, so everyone bought pastel colored ponchos. The whole crowd looked like a giant box of Easter eggs. Giant, screaming, whistling Easter eggs. It was my first experience eating fried pork, which probably gave me a few parasites, but was extremely delicious. When Mexico got a goal, instead of booing the Ecuadorian goalie, the crowd started shouting ¨Fuera Ruega, Fuera Ruega¨! Ruega is the Ecuadorian coach, and is apparently a Colombian, so the Ecuadorians don´t like him much. I love how whenever a team in Latin America plays badly, it is the coach, not the players, who get blamed and then sacked. I wish that Redskins fans could somehow get rid of Dan Snyder using a similar tactic.
My new favorite Ecuadorian word is ¨Chuta!¨ which means ¨shoot!¨ You can apply it to so many things. When my exuberant host dog Oso follows me on the bus, I can yell ¨Chuta Oso!¨ and shoo him off. When I spill something on my clothes as I´m about to head outside, I can yell CHUUTA and immediately feel better. It is the PG version of ¨shit¨, and works for any distressing situation. Thank you, chuta, for easing my transition into Ecuador.
Until next week, if the moscas haven´t eaten me alive.
This week has been quite duro, or long. We gave our first talk, called a charla, to a group of sixth graders this week about gender roles in the media. We cut out pictures of Justin Biebs and Katy Perry and asked them what they thought of them, and then had them cut out pictures in magazines of people who were sexy, macho, successful, and modest. Then, they got up in front of their classmates and talked about what all of these concepts meant. I was astounded that these prepubescent, sixth grade boys picked photos of scantily clad girls and said that ¨sexy meant wearing only a little clothing,¨ but that ¨modesty meant dressing nicely and having people respect you.¨ Then they started asking each other questions and picking apart each concept. They high fived us on the way out and cheered as we left. It was a promising first charla.
The sessions this last week felt like they dragged on, and on, and on. My Spanish does not seem to be getting better, and I apparently insert ¨like¨ into my sentences. In Spain, and after Spain, I knew I could speak Spanish. I knew it because I dreamed in Spanish. I knew it because I would talk to Cristobal for hours in Spanish on the phone, since he did not speak English. It feels like all of the Spanish has oozed out of my brain, and I am now an incoherent valley girl who is trying to make herself understood. I tried to tell my host dad about the Ecuador vs. Mexico game last night, but he thought I said ¨medico¨ and was talking about my host mom´s headache. I just wish I could be completely immersed in Spanish instead of being surrounded by gringas all day and night. That is the only way it will get better. We are reading this pesado, pesado book, ¨The country of little Manuel¨, that makes me sleepy whenever I open it. I don´t care about Manuelito´s adventures, I can´t understand them since half of the words in the book are not in my Spanish dictionary. Thankfully, my host mom and brother are awesome. My host mom always asks me about my day, my family, my boyfriend. She is my one tie to authentically speaking the language. Without her, most of my words would be in English.
I have gotten to disfrutarme, or enjoy myself, too. We went to a friendly match of Ecuador versus Mexico yesterday. It started raining, so everyone bought pastel colored ponchos. The whole crowd looked like a giant box of Easter eggs. Giant, screaming, whistling Easter eggs. It was my first experience eating fried pork, which probably gave me a few parasites, but was extremely delicious. When Mexico got a goal, instead of booing the Ecuadorian goalie, the crowd started shouting ¨Fuera Ruega, Fuera Ruega¨! Ruega is the Ecuadorian coach, and is apparently a Colombian, so the Ecuadorians don´t like him much. I love how whenever a team in Latin America plays badly, it is the coach, not the players, who get blamed and then sacked. I wish that Redskins fans could somehow get rid of Dan Snyder using a similar tactic.
My new favorite Ecuadorian word is ¨Chuta!¨ which means ¨shoot!¨ You can apply it to so many things. When my exuberant host dog Oso follows me on the bus, I can yell ¨Chuta Oso!¨ and shoo him off. When I spill something on my clothes as I´m about to head outside, I can yell CHUUTA and immediately feel better. It is the PG version of ¨shit¨, and works for any distressing situation. Thank you, chuta, for easing my transition into Ecuador.
Until next week, if the moscas haven´t eaten me alive.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
19 days in Ecuador
HOLA fam. I´m writing to you from my host brother´s room in Tumbaco, the city I am training in for the next two months. So much happened since my last Stateside post, so I´ll try and sum it up quickly before bed. Yes, staying up ¨late¨ here means going to sleep at 1030. ¨Sleeping in¨ means waking up at 830 on a weekend. But I digress. Here is the scoop on Ecuador so far.
WEEK ONE started out with a hectic last week of packing. I thought I was completely packed but forgot about a few crucial mementoes. I went to sleep at 230 am and drove with mom and Justin to Philly, where we ate three tear soaked pizza slices before bidding farewell. Walking away from them into a room full of 62 new Trainees was one of the hardest things I´ve ever had to do.
Luckily, they kept us busy. We spent the whole day in staging, got bank cards with $120 in them to cover our day in the US, and then took a 2am bus from Philly to JFK Airport in New York. From New York, we took a 10am flight to Miami, and then a 2pm flight to Quito. We got into Quito right at dusk. It is a huge city for Ecuadorian standards, because over 1 million people live there. The sun was setting over the buildings and the mountains, and the city felt hot with smoke and lights. We got into the training center in Tumbaco, the suburb where we train, at 7pm. We ate a huge dinner of chicken and rice and then passed out at 9.
The first week was so new. We spent 40 hours a week in training, learning about security, opening up bank accounts, getting tested for our language classes, and exploring the city. I got placed into a great host family. They are an elderly couple who live with their 14 grandson, Andres. He is a rockero, meaning that listens to rock music. Apparently the rockeros clash with the Jonas Brother and Justin Bieber crew, as well as with the reggaeton crew. He also said the punkeros, or punks, scare him a bit, though that could just be him. The couple are extremely nurturing and generous. Soya, the ¨mom¨, makes the best food, including fruit juices I´ve never tried before, like tomato juice that actually tastes sweet, and passionfruit. The dad walks for two hours a day, and always asks me about life in America. Their Golden Retriever Oso lives outside and follows me around town. Yesterday, he followed me into a restaurant, jumped up on the chair I sat at, and tried to eat the food. The restaurant owner had to close the door to get him out. Even then, he sat staring at us intently for a good five minutes.
It was hard for me to sleep. The family sleeps with their windows open, and they live across from a karoake bar. At night, the sounds of people crooning Kurt Cobain and the All American Rejects combines with the sounds of unleashed dogs barking at each other in their nocturnal conversations. Roosters often crow in the early morning, adding to the strange music of the Tumbacan street. I started listening to Bobby D. before bed, so ¨Girl From North Country¨ is muting out the sounds.
WEEK TWO was better than week one. Things that bugged me in week one, like the noisiness of the street, became easier to deal with. I have a hilarious language teacher, and began to really like the people in the program. Almost every person in our Omnibus is awesome, with a few exceptions, but you´ll get that anywhere. We played soccer against the Ecuadorians and lost 2 to 5, but it was an intense game. I get winded after running for 5 minutes up here because of the altitude! I started walking to and from school on the bike path, which has lovely views of the mountains and agave plants. I routinely pass women walking their cow(s) and men with bullhorns driving in potato trucks who shout ¨CINCO DOLARES POR PAPAS CINCO DOLARES¨.
We´ve been here for almost three weeks now. I think that we are going on a tech trip in a few weeks to practice teaching. We get our site assignments in a month. I wonder where I´ll be! We know that we will be in the south of the country, in Zone 7, but do not have a clue as to where specifically. I can´t wait to know.
The worst thing so far about Ecuador is the mosquitoes. The bites here ITCH like crazy, and hydrocortisone cream doesn´t help. They tore up my ankles this last week and I´ve been addicted to Calagel ever since. They are by far my least favorite thing about the country. The best things so far are the fruit drinks, the lush green scenery and rolling hills filled with plants that look like they come from a Dr. Seuss book, and the Ecuadorian people, who love to make chistes, or jokes, whenever possible.
Will update when I can. It is 1020 now (late! scandalous!) so I must sleep.
RUV,
Drea
WEEK ONE started out with a hectic last week of packing. I thought I was completely packed but forgot about a few crucial mementoes. I went to sleep at 230 am and drove with mom and Justin to Philly, where we ate three tear soaked pizza slices before bidding farewell. Walking away from them into a room full of 62 new Trainees was one of the hardest things I´ve ever had to do.
Luckily, they kept us busy. We spent the whole day in staging, got bank cards with $120 in them to cover our day in the US, and then took a 2am bus from Philly to JFK Airport in New York. From New York, we took a 10am flight to Miami, and then a 2pm flight to Quito. We got into Quito right at dusk. It is a huge city for Ecuadorian standards, because over 1 million people live there. The sun was setting over the buildings and the mountains, and the city felt hot with smoke and lights. We got into the training center in Tumbaco, the suburb where we train, at 7pm. We ate a huge dinner of chicken and rice and then passed out at 9.
The first week was so new. We spent 40 hours a week in training, learning about security, opening up bank accounts, getting tested for our language classes, and exploring the city. I got placed into a great host family. They are an elderly couple who live with their 14 grandson, Andres. He is a rockero, meaning that listens to rock music. Apparently the rockeros clash with the Jonas Brother and Justin Bieber crew, as well as with the reggaeton crew. He also said the punkeros, or punks, scare him a bit, though that could just be him. The couple are extremely nurturing and generous. Soya, the ¨mom¨, makes the best food, including fruit juices I´ve never tried before, like tomato juice that actually tastes sweet, and passionfruit. The dad walks for two hours a day, and always asks me about life in America. Their Golden Retriever Oso lives outside and follows me around town. Yesterday, he followed me into a restaurant, jumped up on the chair I sat at, and tried to eat the food. The restaurant owner had to close the door to get him out. Even then, he sat staring at us intently for a good five minutes.
It was hard for me to sleep. The family sleeps with their windows open, and they live across from a karoake bar. At night, the sounds of people crooning Kurt Cobain and the All American Rejects combines with the sounds of unleashed dogs barking at each other in their nocturnal conversations. Roosters often crow in the early morning, adding to the strange music of the Tumbacan street. I started listening to Bobby D. before bed, so ¨Girl From North Country¨ is muting out the sounds.
WEEK TWO was better than week one. Things that bugged me in week one, like the noisiness of the street, became easier to deal with. I have a hilarious language teacher, and began to really like the people in the program. Almost every person in our Omnibus is awesome, with a few exceptions, but you´ll get that anywhere. We played soccer against the Ecuadorians and lost 2 to 5, but it was an intense game. I get winded after running for 5 minutes up here because of the altitude! I started walking to and from school on the bike path, which has lovely views of the mountains and agave plants. I routinely pass women walking their cow(s) and men with bullhorns driving in potato trucks who shout ¨CINCO DOLARES POR PAPAS CINCO DOLARES¨.
We´ve been here for almost three weeks now. I think that we are going on a tech trip in a few weeks to practice teaching. We get our site assignments in a month. I wonder where I´ll be! We know that we will be in the south of the country, in Zone 7, but do not have a clue as to where specifically. I can´t wait to know.
The worst thing so far about Ecuador is the mosquitoes. The bites here ITCH like crazy, and hydrocortisone cream doesn´t help. They tore up my ankles this last week and I´ve been addicted to Calagel ever since. They are by far my least favorite thing about the country. The best things so far are the fruit drinks, the lush green scenery and rolling hills filled with plants that look like they come from a Dr. Seuss book, and the Ecuadorian people, who love to make chistes, or jokes, whenever possible.
Will update when I can. It is 1020 now (late! scandalous!) so I must sleep.
RUV,
Drea
Monday, May 23, 2011
piles o' stuff
Many people ask me what sorts of things I'm taking with me to Ecuador, an seemingly innocent question that I never know how to succintly answer. I usually just say "everything". That's because I have no clue where I'll be placed. It could be in the frigid Andes, where the temperature is 40 degrees every day. Or, it could be on the hot and muggy coast, where a cool day hovers around 80 degrees. Or in the jungle, with its ferocious rainy season. For all of the research I've done on the climate, there is still no way to see into the future to know what, exactly, to pack for. And what does the planning freak do when faced with the dark, scary Unknown? Bring everything, of course.
Things I am souped about bringing:
1. My Chacos
2. War and Peace
3. My scrapbook of loved ones which I will make THIS WEEK
Things I wish I could bring:
1. My dogs
2. Air conditioning
3. An unending supply of Chipotle. Like Mary Poppins' suitcase, which holds an unending supply of Chipotle burritos.
Things I should probably get but haven't yet:
1. Souvenirs for host family- always an awkward one. First off, DC souvenirs or MD souvenirs? Silver Spring is on the verge of each. We're the DC metropolitan area, but we're in MD. I'll probably bring them some Old Bay and something to do with the blue crab, which our state is obsessed with.
2. Fun games. I keep seeing Bananagrams on sale everywhere I go. The universe obviously is trying to tell me that this is essential to a successful PC experience.
3. A robe?
My bedroom currently looks like a chaotic maze of labels, bags, and clothes. Things are strewn everywhere...sandals, cardigans, plastic bags, big backpacking backpacks, and the trusty, beautiful blue Peace Corps invitation packet. I've gone to REI and gotten clothes that blow my mind with their technology: clothes that wick moisture, clothes that have UV Ray protection, wool that somehow keeps you cold when it's hot, and hot when it's cold (still scratching my head over how that works).
In true Andrea fashion, I've put off organizing the beast of packing in favor of playing GRE word games with the hose, seeing my friends and family, and figuring out how to scrapbook. This whole week will be fantastic and tiring, filled with good friends and delicious food (how I will miss thee, Guapos, Nava Thai, and the Vegetable Garden!). I have the last week with the girls this week. I'm going to miss their insatiable dog, discussing the latest MTV/Hunger Games gossip, being introduced to Youtube gems such as Rebecca Black's "Friday", and helping them navigate the very tough world of middle and elementary school. When I come back, Mags will be driving. How crazy.
Everything I feel now, I feel deeper. I appreciate the sun and the cool evening breeze. I laugh more deeply at jokes, and take more time to talk to friends. It may be unwise of me to be spending so much of this week with other people, but I want to celebrate and soak it all up before so that when I'm alone in a hut somewhere I can remember how good it really is here. Let the American good times roll until the drumbeat of Ecuador comes along and changes up the beat.
Things I am souped about bringing:
1. My Chacos
2. War and Peace
3. My scrapbook of loved ones which I will make THIS WEEK
Things I wish I could bring:
1. My dogs
2. Air conditioning
3. An unending supply of Chipotle. Like Mary Poppins' suitcase, which holds an unending supply of Chipotle burritos.
Things I should probably get but haven't yet:
1. Souvenirs for host family- always an awkward one. First off, DC souvenirs or MD souvenirs? Silver Spring is on the verge of each. We're the DC metropolitan area, but we're in MD. I'll probably bring them some Old Bay and something to do with the blue crab, which our state is obsessed with.
2. Fun games. I keep seeing Bananagrams on sale everywhere I go. The universe obviously is trying to tell me that this is essential to a successful PC experience.
3. A robe?
My bedroom currently looks like a chaotic maze of labels, bags, and clothes. Things are strewn everywhere...sandals, cardigans, plastic bags, big backpacking backpacks, and the trusty, beautiful blue Peace Corps invitation packet. I've gone to REI and gotten clothes that blow my mind with their technology: clothes that wick moisture, clothes that have UV Ray protection, wool that somehow keeps you cold when it's hot, and hot when it's cold (still scratching my head over how that works).
In true Andrea fashion, I've put off organizing the beast of packing in favor of playing GRE word games with the hose, seeing my friends and family, and figuring out how to scrapbook. This whole week will be fantastic and tiring, filled with good friends and delicious food (how I will miss thee, Guapos, Nava Thai, and the Vegetable Garden!). I have the last week with the girls this week. I'm going to miss their insatiable dog, discussing the latest MTV/Hunger Games gossip, being introduced to Youtube gems such as Rebecca Black's "Friday", and helping them navigate the very tough world of middle and elementary school. When I come back, Mags will be driving. How crazy.
Everything I feel now, I feel deeper. I appreciate the sun and the cool evening breeze. I laugh more deeply at jokes, and take more time to talk to friends. It may be unwise of me to be spending so much of this week with other people, but I want to celebrate and soak it all up before so that when I'm alone in a hut somewhere I can remember how good it really is here. Let the American good times roll until the drumbeat of Ecuador comes along and changes up the beat.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
bobby d. and packing woes
I do love this blog, I do. I just constantly forget about it. Either I start to type and one of the loveable dumb Golden Retrievers jumps up on my bed, or I get really into a Wire episode (which everyone should watch for its brilliance, but especially if you are from MD or know Baltimore...the local references are off the hook), or I'm out shopping. The theme of this week would be called: Neurotic Shoptime. Almost every day, I'm in and out of stores, or talking to the folks over at Backcountry. It's like this sickness, and the only cure is more shopping. I've been to Marshalls, to Forever 21, to REI. And I'm not a girl who loves shopping- the bright lights, unflattering dressing rooms, and long lines all make me cringe. But being as prepared as possible is all I care about at this point. I'm terrified I'll forget something important, like wool socks, and then me and my size 10 feet will have to wait months until they can be sent to me. So, my mind is constantly thinking about things like capris, Chacos, and hiking backpacks. Today I thrust myself away to help lay mulch with my mom and Del. The cool evening rain and the smell of the chicory grain, the dogs rolling around in the grass reminded me that there is beauty and ease everywhere, and that this shopping odyssey will be over soon.
Twelve. Days. Left. And there are only 12 minutes left in today, meaning that tomorrow, there will be 11 days left. It's crazy. I've been running around, trying to soak up as many people as possible in the shortest amount of time, to absorb as much of them as possible before I leave. I want to be as relaxed and focused on them as possible in this next week and a half, and not focused on packing, packing, packing. My goal is to be done with all the packing by Tuesday, and then chill out for a week.
Good news on the address front! I have an official address for the first three months of my training. It is...
PCT (short for Peace Corps Trainee) + My name
Cuerpo de Paz
Casilla 17-08-8624
Quito, Ecuador
South America
Mail takes 7-10 days to get there, so if you write something by Saturday and send it, it will get there by June 1st! I've largely abandoned snail mail in favor of the quickness of email, but I'm getting swept up in the romance of mailing and receiving letters. Also, you can only send padded envelopes, not boxes. So no wonderful American foodstuffs for the first few months. BUT, letters would be greeted with the utmost delight.
In other news, I just downloaded Bob Dylan's second record, "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan." Listening to this album is like having a spiritual revelation. You simply can't be stressed or distracted when good ole Bobby plays the harmonica and sings his poetry. People jone on him voice, but I think his 60s-voice, while not beautiful, is the most important thing in the world: utterly true.
From "Girl of the North Country":
"If you're traveling to the north country fair
Where the breeze hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to the one who lives there
She was once a true love of mine."
until next time,
A
Twelve. Days. Left. And there are only 12 minutes left in today, meaning that tomorrow, there will be 11 days left. It's crazy. I've been running around, trying to soak up as many people as possible in the shortest amount of time, to absorb as much of them as possible before I leave. I want to be as relaxed and focused on them as possible in this next week and a half, and not focused on packing, packing, packing. My goal is to be done with all the packing by Tuesday, and then chill out for a week.
Good news on the address front! I have an official address for the first three months of my training. It is...
PCT (short for Peace Corps Trainee) + My name
Cuerpo de Paz
Casilla 17-08-8624
Quito, Ecuador
South America
Mail takes 7-10 days to get there, so if you write something by Saturday and send it, it will get there by June 1st! I've largely abandoned snail mail in favor of the quickness of email, but I'm getting swept up in the romance of mailing and receiving letters. Also, you can only send padded envelopes, not boxes. So no wonderful American foodstuffs for the first few months. BUT, letters would be greeted with the utmost delight.
In other news, I just downloaded Bob Dylan's second record, "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan." Listening to this album is like having a spiritual revelation. You simply can't be stressed or distracted when good ole Bobby plays the harmonica and sings his poetry. People jone on him voice, but I think his 60s-voice, while not beautiful, is the most important thing in the world: utterly true.
From "Girl of the North Country":
"If you're traveling to the north country fair
Where the breeze hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to the one who lives there
She was once a true love of mine."
until next time,
A
Monday, April 25, 2011
packing packing oh boy!
I can't believe it's been a MONTH since I posted. In one more month, it will be May 25th, five days before my 24th birthday, and seven days before staging begins for the Peace Corps. We got our staging information today: we will first meet in Philadelphia and then fly over to Quito together as a group on June 2nd. Getting the staging information, after not hearing from the PC for a few months, makes the process feel so much more real. In a week, we get our tickets and our hotel information for staging, and then poof! We go. There is hardly any waiting time left.
Since my internship is ending this week, I've resolved to get most of the stuff I need to bring in the next few weeks. I'm currently contemplating whether I should bring my beautiful two year old Mac with me. What do you think...is it too risky to bring, or would it be useful to have?
My list for this week is:
-Figure out the Chaco discount and get Chacos, ASAP.
-Get a shortwave radio.
-Buy Ecuador-appropriate shorts (though I will bring a pair of my beloved Soffes, if only to wear them in the house).
-Buy a robe (one of my Peruvian friends constantly wears a robe over her pajamas- this could be a Roxana-thing or a South American thing, but it couldn't hurt to have. It is better than awkwardly walking around in a short towel in front of my host family).
-Figure out whether or not to bring a backpacking backpack (Eagle Creek has a PC discount, woohoo! I love these discounts).
Maryland weather (and the general East Coast weather) has been hugely strange for the past couple of months. On Friday, I shivered my way through the streets of DC, suffering the brutal cold and gusty winds of U Street for the redemption of a chili half-smoke from Ben's Chili Bowl. Today, it is 85 and MUGGY, and I'm indoors avoiding it. Currently parked in the living room with the pups, enjoying as much air conditioning as possible before June.
Since my internship is ending this week, I've resolved to get most of the stuff I need to bring in the next few weeks. I'm currently contemplating whether I should bring my beautiful two year old Mac with me. What do you think...is it too risky to bring, or would it be useful to have?
My list for this week is:
-Figure out the Chaco discount and get Chacos, ASAP.
-Get a shortwave radio.
-Buy Ecuador-appropriate shorts (though I will bring a pair of my beloved Soffes, if only to wear them in the house).
-Buy a robe (one of my Peruvian friends constantly wears a robe over her pajamas- this could be a Roxana-thing or a South American thing, but it couldn't hurt to have. It is better than awkwardly walking around in a short towel in front of my host family).
-Figure out whether or not to bring a backpacking backpack (Eagle Creek has a PC discount, woohoo! I love these discounts).
Maryland weather (and the general East Coast weather) has been hugely strange for the past couple of months. On Friday, I shivered my way through the streets of DC, suffering the brutal cold and gusty winds of U Street for the redemption of a chili half-smoke from Ben's Chili Bowl. Today, it is 85 and MUGGY, and I'm indoors avoiding it. Currently parked in the living room with the pups, enjoying as much air conditioning as possible before June.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Hello from the land of lobster sculptures
I'm in MAINE, visiting a girl I've known since I was a fetus. This is the last time I'll see her, or her family, for two years. It's weird to think of the Peace Corps service in those terms, but it's true. It'll be two whole years until I see about 99 percent of the people in my life. Crazypants. I'll be 26 years old when I come home- a number which seems incredibly old, refined, and ancient to me right now. Twenty six year olds have cars, retirement plans, husbands, and dogs. It seems like an age where people have their shit together. I wonder how different it'll be than 23.
I'm excited about getting to teach in Ecuador. The Welcome Book says that we will have classes of up to 70 children- gaaaaah! Will they be teenagers, or five year olds? Unruly or well behaved? Gung ho about English or apathetic? Only time will tell. I do hope that I'll be a good teacher, and learn to practice my PATIENCE skills that I've acquired during the Peace Corps process. I hope that the TEFL group can help the school systems update their methods of teaching English. We were invited specifically to do this. Some of my favorite memories in class involve playing games, and making shit up, so I plan to incorporate a ton of that into lessons. And candy. Candy is magic. I want to give out candy. And, unlike my wicked French teacher J. Feld, I will NOT act bitterly towards the students, and will hide any semblance of favorite playing. I still rem
Today is my last day in Maine. It's been 33 degrees all weekend, and there is a wicked strong wind blowing through the state tonight. We saw Acadia today, which is one of the most beautiful places I've ever laid eyes on. Pine trees, bare birch trees with their white bark facing the sky, and clear, blue (freezing) water make up Acadia. And there were lobster symbols EVERYWHERE. Will post them later on.
I'm excited about getting to teach in Ecuador. The Welcome Book says that we will have classes of up to 70 children- gaaaaah! Will they be teenagers, or five year olds? Unruly or well behaved? Gung ho about English or apathetic? Only time will tell. I do hope that I'll be a good teacher, and learn to practice my PATIENCE skills that I've acquired during the Peace Corps process. I hope that the TEFL group can help the school systems update their methods of teaching English. We were invited specifically to do this. Some of my favorite memories in class involve playing games, and making shit up, so I plan to incorporate a ton of that into lessons. And candy. Candy is magic. I want to give out candy. And, unlike my wicked French teacher J. Feld, I will NOT act bitterly towards the students, and will hide any semblance of favorite playing. I still rem
Today is my last day in Maine. It's been 33 degrees all weekend, and there is a wicked strong wind blowing through the state tonight. We saw Acadia today, which is one of the most beautiful places I've ever laid eyes on. Pine trees, bare birch trees with their white bark facing the sky, and clear, blue (freezing) water make up Acadia. And there were lobster symbols EVERYWHERE. Will post them later on.
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