Saturday, April 17, 2010
Samira
I continued to spend my time at Valdivia with 8 year old Minoska and 5 year old Kelli, I couldn't get enough of them. The two sisters were not only well behaved but they looked out for one another making sure not to leave the other behind. I admired their closeness and maturity. And as we grew closer, Samira seemed to grow even further away. But there was something about Samira that just wouldn't let me totally give up on getting to know her. She was spunky and outspoken. She didn't allow anyone to push her around or bully her, nor would she let anyone do the same to her cousins. She was quick witted and sarcastic. There was something about her that made me want to learn her story, know where she comes from and follow who she becomes.
It seemed like an impossible task. Everyday I would greet Samira with a big smile and kiss on the cheek despite the fact that I could feel her want to pull away as soon as possible. I respected the fact that she didn't want to talk to me and knew that I couldn't force a relationship with her. After about a month of working 5 days a week at Valdivia , Samira gave me her first smile. I don't know what brought it on, but I don't care. I cherish that smile because I know it was genuine. From that day forward it was as if Samira was a completely different girl. When we saw each other she would run up and give me a huge hug and kiss, she would seek me out during recreo or activity to play with, she would joke and laugh with me. She turned into such a lifefilled girl, it was great.
After a few weeks of our new friendship I asked Samira about her family which eventually led to me coming over to visit one day. Though somewhat difficult we were finally able to set date for me to stop by her house and meet the family. I was nervous at first because I wasn't sure what kind of a situation I was walking into. What if they didn't want to meet me? Or what if they hated volunteers? (That's not too uncommon in AJS) And so I ventured over to Samira's house one Sunday afternoon.
Samira lives in a very small, dark and overcrowded house with her parents 3 brothers, sister in law and 2 baby nieces. I didn't go into the bedrooms but I believe that there are only 2 and they have matresses on the floor for the beds. When I arrived Samira was brining over a tray of food to the neighbors that her mom helps feed every so often. She looked like a little waitress balancing the 5 soup bowls without spilling them. When she saw me she flashed a huge smile and told me to wait just a second while she served the food.
The family was all very nice and welcoming. Her mom was suffering from a pretty bad headach at the time and her one niece wouldn't stop crying, but other than that I felt comfortable visiting with them. Her father and I talked about politics and the struggle for one to make their own life in Ecuador. Her mom told me about former volunteers that they grew close with over the years and how she loves to make ceviche. In fact I talked with Samira's mom and dad for over an hour as Samira sat on the couch withdrawn and quiet. I would try to engage her in conversation and she would answer me with one word answers, or if she began to say more she was usually cut off by one of the adults. I couldn't believe that this was the same spunky girl I had grown close to at Valdivia, who was at times quiet but always a strong presense. At home, she seemed to just fall into the background.
Why? Why must this young girl so full of life be silenced by her home enviornment? Why must she shrink her shoulders and walk around as if on egg shells in a place where she should feel encouraged to take pride in herself? I will not force my own opinions upon her family, her parents, or even Samira herself. I will not pretend to know the slightest about her situation after only going over once. But I will not pretend or try to forget the fact that Samira seems to be just one example of many of the treatment of young girls in the Ecuadorian culture. (I speak from my own experience here in Ecuador and do not wish to speak for all families or all Ecuadorians, generalizations are dangerous and usually wrong)
I worry that if Samira continues to fall to wayside at home that the wonderful spark within her will slowly fade. She will become jaded and complacent. I fear that she will fulfill her "role" as a woman, and not realize any of her own dreams. I fear that she won't realize her full potential and will give up by giving in to a reality that doesn't have to be her own.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
La Gordita rants
You have a small pimple on your cheek? Well you better believe that thing will be the topic of conversation at dinner. How you got it, why you got it, how you can get rid of it. You probably have the pimple because you ate something wrong, or the climate. The remedy; wash your face with lime juice. (I've been told that once before)
Are you sick? It's probably because your stomach is delicate, and the climate. The remedy; don't eat anything with seeds in it because seeds "hace daƱo" and will create rocks in your organs. (no joke)
Do you have a fever or a cough? You were sitting in front of a fan too long, or because of the cold air from the refridgerator and of course the climate. The remedy; pass an egg over your body and don't drink or eat anything cold.
Wihtout a doubt no matter what your problem is the climate is a reason why it is happening. Never forget that the climate in Ecuador will apparently destroy you because it is the cause of EVERYTHING. According to the Ecuadorians that is.
Now last but not least, are you fat? Or maybe just a little extra junk in the trunk? Maybe a tad bit round about the edges? Woooooh let me tell ya you will never hear the end of it. Perhaps Ecuadorians think that you have forgotten what you look like, or maybe they are just so secure in their own jelly that they feel as if everyone should be comfortable talking about it. They will grab your belly and shake it, they will tell you should eat less because you are growing fatter, they will tell you that you are huge! It's as if you don't look in a mirror or live with yourself everyday, because they point out everything that is wrong with you.
Oh and if you're fat they will make you the standard. In conversations when describing people they will say how big or small they were in comparison to your size, oh "you´re nothing compared to how fat this woman was" or "she was probably the size of your leg she was so skinny."
Kids will poke at your belly, or maybe even ask if you are preggers. And like all kids they of course will tease you about eating all the food in the world or some stupid shit like that. People won't let you be even while you are eating dinner or enjoying yourself at a party, if you like the food you may get a comment that of course you do because you like all food. Or perhaps you will hear the comment, "if you eat a lot of rice you're going to look like[inseart your name here]." if you're dancing at a party you'll hear comments about how you need to dance to lose weight. There really is no safe haven from the comments. They will even be your personal scale! Oh you've lost weight, oh nope you've gotten fat again. It can be relentless at times.
And yet, you must accept it and develop a tough skin because that is the way of the Ecuadorian culture, hell that is the way of Latino culture. I know they don't say it to be mean, they do say it with love and for them it isn't insulting so I take it with a grain of salt. I've always been la gordita and I'm fine with it, but at times I just wish I could be something else.
Oh, Ecuador, I love you, but you're killing my esteem!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Reflections on being temporary
"What happened?" I grew concerned as I could hear the quiver in her voice from crying.
"There was a horrible earthquake in Chile and we cannot get a hold of my sister."
"I'll be right over," I said as I hung up the phone, threw on my shoes and headed over to Cira's house.
When I arrived Teo, Elysa and Sandra were all sitting around the living room as Cira sat at the computer screaming into the microphone. They had just connected with Sandra, their sister, over video chat and were talking to her about her condition. Sandra and her 3 babies, including one of 2 months, were all ok but they were without light and water. She informed us that her apartment building had been pretty shaken but no damage had been done, however, she was afraid of another tremor. Her husband was not home and she had no idea how she would be able to get all 3 babies out if another hard tremor hit. Through the computer screen you could see the strain in her face as she sat in her dark apartment contemplating what her options were, her voice cracked and trembled as did Cira's. The rest of us sat around looking at each other and saying things like, "God help us" and "Que horrible las cosas de este mundo." I was at a loss of words but as I sat there I knew that I wasn't supposed to have anything to say, I was just supposed to be there to support and pray.
I spent the entire rest of Saturday with Cira's family cooking, cleaning, wrapping birthday gifts and even going to a neighbor's birthday party that was being held out on the street in front of the house. We sat and watched as the rental trucks came in and set up the many tables, chairs and tents. We watched the DJ set up his huge obnoxious speakers at either end of the street and begin blasting music hours before the party even began. Then we watched as the cotton candy and churros machines arrived along with the clowns and face painters. And then right before the guests arrived we watched in awe they brought out the birthday cake, an 8 car train with different characters from the show Ben-10. It was trully an all out birthday extravaganza....for a 1 year old.
How surreal it was that only a few hours before we were all sitting around the sala with tears in our eyes wondering if Sandra was alive, and there we getting ready for a party. Of course the party wasn't going to be canceled because of the earthquake in Chile, nor were Cira and her family going to sit around and be sad all day, but in some small way the events of the day brought me back to the theme of being temporary.
Two weeks ago I finally received my first retreat group of the year, Dominican Academy. They were an outstanding group of high school girls who came to Ecuador over their week break to open their eyes and hearts to the effects of poverty. They came to do what many people are not able to do they came to put a name and face to "the poor." At first I was hesitant to have a retreat group because I wasn't sure what they were comind down here for, was it to get away from the bitter winter? Was it to "do" something? Was it to just put another stamp on their passport? Judgements, I know, but also big questions that I ask about all retreat groups. Motivations are so important in coming into other countries under the title of a "service trip" or "service immersion" I should know, I've gone on them myself. But after the amazing group from DA my judgements were blown out of the water.
My time spent with the incredibly well educated and mature ladies from DA revitalized my hope in education and reminded me of the importance of both fromal and informal education(as well as single sex education, although I'm a bit biased). But the short week they spent here also proved a glimpse into my own experience in Ecuador. As the girls began to meet more people from the community and spend more time with the kids at Valdivia they felt the burden of building relationships and then leaving them. Many times during reflection the idea of "turning your back" on someone came up as they talked about how they make themselves a presence in the lives of the people and then quickly are ripped away from them, most likely to never come back.
Doesn't that just sound horrible? Yes, but oh wait...I'm doing the same thing but on a much longer scale. Year after year volunteers come and go, they build their relationships, they share themselves with the neighbors and then they return back to the United States to stay. I too am apart of that cycle. I am here "replacing" a volunteer and soon enough another young freshly graduated American will come and replace me. In 5 short months I will return to my life in the US and I will have left so many people that I have grown close to. People I have grown accustomed to seeing every day, people who I eat, laugh and even have cried with. And people who will probably never travel outside of Guayaquil let alone to the US.
Those kids at Valdivia that run up to me every day and greet me with a hug and kiss, soon they'll be doing that someone else. And perhaps they won't forget me, and perhaps they will think about me as much as I will think about them, but the fact remains I am only a temporary figure here and everyone knows that. While the group was visiting with Jesus they asked her if it was hard to constantly have new groups of volunteers come in and out and she responded, "Yes, we cry a lot" with tears builing up in her eyes. I had to divert my glance so that I didn't start crying myself. A few days ago I mentioned, again to Jesus, that we were at the 5 month mark, she said to me as she stood at the stove cooking, "I don't like to hear those things." And truth be told, I don't like to say those things.
At times I wish that I was just here living on my own not being apart of Rostro. What would my experience look like then? I think I could play the "what if" game all day long, so I won't because it gets me nowhere, but it's so hard not to do at times when I wish things were different. But I should say that there isn't a single part of me that questions my choice in Rostro or my motives for coming down. The program I feel was tailored to my strengths, otherwise known as my social skills. I walk down the street and have at least 1 person to stop and have a quick conversation with and I spend hours on end chatting with neighbors, it seems that the language barrier is not a barrier in terms of my need to socialize!
But what is going to happen to these relationships when I do leave? When I get swept up in life back in the US and don't have as much time to spend writing and calling, how will I sustain them? Perhaps I am asking these questions too early in the game, and not living in the present moment. But it can be difficult to live in the present when it seems as if it's just slipping away from me. Am I just going to end up hurting people like so many before me have done? I know the fruit of the labor is there, but at times it seems to be hidden.
Although this blog may seem to be a little on the "downer" side know that it's not written out of sadness, only concern. I am so happy here at times I wonder if I was meant to live in South America...don't worry, Mom, I'm not getting any ideas. I just think it's important for people to understand that life down here isn't just all fun and games and extravagant birthday parties, it's real.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Birthday Ecua style
The celebrations began Thursday morning at 1:00am when Laura and Julia sang Happy Birthday to me while holding a candle. It was off key, but beautiful. Later that morning as I was getting ready to leave for work, I heard loud smacking noises coming from outside. When I left the house I discovered it was Maximo and Wellington, two of our guards, smacking their leather belts against the cement post. They were practicing their swings for the lastigatos they were about to give me. It's tradition in Ecuador to whip the birthday person for how many years they are turning. It's actually quite an awkward event, especially when it's two big men coming at your ass with thick leather belts. But before they each gave me one whip, they presented me with my birthday gift: chocolate bread and juice. They went gentle on me and made sure to hit hard enough for me to feel it without leaving any marks! (mom probably thinks this sounds so strange, and i'm sure one of my brothers is making fun of it as they read!)
I then went to work where I was met with Happy Birthday wishes from all sorts of faculty, staff and workers. People who didn't even know me were giving me hugs and kisses. And every time I walked past the snack bar Tia Jackie would yell "Que viva la santa!" which is also another birthday tradition here. My students were very well behaved and we had a great class. I left Mundo with another gift: diet coke and two small cakes.
Later Thursday night was the best part though, my community mates threw me a surprise party! Dan, Theresa, Karla and Jaime came over from Arbolito after work and helped cook dinner and bake a cake. I was taken on a wild goose chase to get ice cream with my Ecuadorian friend Denisse as the distraction to get me out of the house. When we arrived home, I knew something was up, and as I approached the hosue I heard them quiet down and then turn off the lights. Yeah, we aren't that great with surprises, but it's the thought that counts! It was great to see everyone though, Chris and Jake came up too! We ate dinner, chatted, then Dan shoved cake in my face and we all sat around talking and laughing. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.
Friday Cira and her family invited me over for dinner and cake. I have blogged about Cira before and feel like she is just such an important person to me here in Ecuador. I have grown very close to her and her entire family which includes mom, sister, brother in law, kids and various cousins and neighbors. It felt like I was at home with my family as we ate and told funny stories. As usual Yudy, Cira's brother in law, berrated me with questions about "in your country is it true..." We ate delicious food, an even more delicious cake and then enjoyed each other's company.
And then came Saturday, the day we had been waiting for. On Saturday night our neighbors Jesus and Walter threw a joint birthday party for me and their grandson Matias, who turned 4 on the 11th as well. Earlier in the day I journeyed out to the Outlet Mall with Denisse to buy a cake and other party necessities. It was nice to spend the day with her, walking around the mall, chatting about our lives. She also has an affinity for Hello Kitty and Strawberry Shortcake so obviously we were ment to be friends. We spent most of our time trying to find party decorations of either cartoon character...we were unsuccessful. But anyways, Saturday night we all put on our dancing shoes and headed across the street to Watler and Jesus'. We ate dinner, had cake, took a million pictures and then danced danced danced. Then we stopped dancing to do the 23 whippings. Everyone took a turn giving me 3-4 whips, which let me tell you was pretty embarassing. Jesus insisted that she give the final 3, and let me tell you I'm still sore! She did not mess around with that whip. After the whipping the dancing continued until about 12am. Just like at Cira's I felt right at home and like I was where I was supposed to be. At one point during the photoshoot, Jesus called out "Walter come take a picture with your daughter" and it ment so much for me to hear that, because that is exactly how I feel...apart of the family. I never thought I would get to that point, but I have and it's amazing.
Steve, Laura, Chris, Jake and I then came home and stayed up until 3am watching the final episodes of Glee (Best birthday present ever!). And then today, Sunday I woke up late, went to the boardwalk with Laura, Steve and Alicia's family, and now I await for my group of retreatants to arrive. It has been a very busy but lovely couple of days full of so much love and laughter. I even got to talk to some of my family on Saturday afternoon which was truly the icing on the cake, to be able to have my two lives be entertwined if even just a little.
So yet another mile marker has come and past way too fast. We are entering the 3rd week of February and the time is flying by like the planes above our house. I'm excited to have a change of pace with my retreat group and to have a slice of that immersion trip vitality. As I now start my 23rd year on earth I begin it with energy, happiness and a desire to love love love! (oh, Happy Valentine's Day!)
Quick note: Carnival has begun. Today on the bus Steve and I were soaked as a kid threw a bucket of water at us. Tomorrow begins the war that is carnival. More to come soon!!
Monday, January 18, 2010
As I closely am approaching my sixth month mark here in Ecuador it seems inevitable that I have reached the point where I begin to ask myself why I am here. For a few days now the thoughts that have filled my mind are thoughts of doubt, insecurity and confusion. What am I doing here? Why did I come here? Why am I in this program? How the hell did I get here?
Most of the time I try and reflect on the path that lead me to where I am today, a path that at times seems to have disappeared in the depths of my doubt. I often times imagine myself in that scene from Alice in Wonderland when she is following the path that the Cheshire cat told her take and just as she thinks she is getting somewhere her path is swept away. Poor Alice stands on her one square of path left looking longingly back to where she came from and desperately forward to where she was headed but all she is met with is the darkness of her surroundings.

While this may seem like a very dramatic example it is somewhat comparable to my experience in Ecuador as a volunteer. The other day I received an email from good ol' Mike Polish who wrote "It'll be interesting to look through your emails after you're back and chart your emotions because it kinda looks like a roller-coaster." And Mike couldn't have said it any better because most days I feel like I've been thrusted around and had the wind knocked out of me over and over again, but then there are the other days when I simply can feel the freedom that comes from being airborne. If that makes any sense.
Now unlike the rollercoaster Alice was on in Wonderland mine will never prove to be just a dream. I will not wake up one day and realize that these past 6 months have been just a figment of my imagination. No when I wake up I am reminded by the heat, sweat, noise, smell and drab colored sky that this is my reality. But truly what a beautiful reality it can be.
I have been in a funk for a few weeks now. I've been sick, stressed, frusterated, sad and incredibly homesick. A bad combination of things to say the least. It has been difficult for me to see the good in life here in Duran, to be witness to the transformation that is taking place within me and my community. I have struggled to see the positive in any situation and have often times allowed myself to wallow in self pity and negativity. All of which is natural but draining nonetheless.
But even when I found myself laughing and enjoying my time with friends my mind would quickly turn to the same questions, "what is my purpose down here?" It especially is difficult to answer when our form of service is being and not doing and we strive to think of ways to help people that are sustainable and not just a bandaid solution. Which then leads us to talk about what happens if we do give a hungry child a piece of bread or banana one day, if he comes back the next day with his brother, and then the next day with his sister and so on. Do we continue to give them food, or do we try and find a longer solution to their hunger? We want to continue to give them food because we can, but we also have to think that we are only here until August so then who will feed them after we leave?
It seems as if these questions have been coming to us much more frequently these days. We have entire dinner conversations or we stay up well into the night talking all these things through, and of course we never come up with any real answer or solution. We are left standing on our piece of the path without knowing how to go forward or how to go back.
And so with all these thoughts consuming my mind I have found it difficult to concentrate anything else. I needed to talk and to someone who I hadn't already talked to for hours an end. With few English speakers handy I turned to a woman who I felt could give me some perspective and objective advice, but also a woman who would give me the blantant advice I needed. And so I turned to the one and only Pat Mcteague.
As blogged about before, Pat is one of the co-founders of Nuevo Mundo, the school in which I teach. Hailing from Canada originally she spent most of her youth growing up in the best city in the world Chicago. She has now lived in Ecuador for something like 30 years and her vision of equal education for all children is truly inspiring. Now Pat says what's on her mind. She's direct, sometimes brash, and usualy has the last or only word on a matter. In other words she tells it how it is, a quality I find quite refreshing in a person. Mostly she reminds me of my family members back home who don't often beat around the bush when they have something to say.
So I went to Pat to work out the kinks that were within my head and heart. I sat down and threw up my thoughts, questions, frustrations and emotions that have been building up over the past 6 months all over Pat's small blue walled office. She listend to me contently and didn't interupt me as I rambled on for longer than I should have. And then when I took a breath she began to offer me not her advice of age old wisdom, but her story. Her story full of struggles and victories, of openness and vulnerability. Her very real and human story.
The fact that I felt so comfortable with Pat then allowed me to share just a glimpse of my own short life story. And I told Pat that I just didn't understand what my purpose was down here. I told her how I could no longer see the path that lead me here and I cannot see the path I am supposed to be following. Midway through telling Pat a story she stopped me and said "that's why you're here, to share your story." Well why didn't I think of that before?
And so I left Pat's office with a sense of peace and clarity, but also with this new reflection of "sharing my story." I do think I am here to share my life with my community and my neighbors. I believe that I will grow close to them through sharing my life with them, including my defeats and greatest achievements. To share my story full of love, family and overcoming outside obstacles. A story full of character and many twists and turns. A story centered on faith. A story dotted with funny anecdotes and quotes. A story of laughter and tears.
I feel at times that my story is one that many of our neighbors have found relatable in that we have encountered several of the same experiences. I of course in no am comparing our lives, because it's so hard to do so spanning so many different areas. But I am saying that when neighbors realize we hold an experience in common they have oftened replied with "I didn't think that happened in the United States," or "I only thought things like that were common in Ecuador." And these have been experiences that I know many people have in the US. Yet the US stereotype and image seems to be ingraned into the minds of people throughout the rest of the world. And while I am only talking to a handful of people, perhaps through the sharing of our stories we are beginning to bridge the huge gap that remains between our countries and cultures.
It is through the sharing of ourselves that we come to know others more fully. It is through making ourselves vulnerable and open that we can trully enter into relationships not only with those around us, but most importantly with God.
So at this point in my Rostro year I can say with confidence that I am here to share my story. And through the sharing of my story I will connect with my family, my community, my Ecuadorian community and my faith. Perhaps I'm not as lost as I thought I was...
Monday, December 28, 2009
An Ecuadorian Christmas
Christmas season in the states usually starts some time after Thanksgiving, well at the guarderia there is no Thanksgiving so Christmas preparations began on November 1st and we didn't stop decorating until December 22nd minutes before the parents came to the show. The children were cast into their roles, their costumes were made and then remade to fit them perfectly, they practiced their lines and reherced thier entrances and exists every day for over a month. The teachers were going crazy with the prepartion while all I had to do was sit with the angel chorus until it was their time to perform the "Gloria." I didn't think the kids would be able to pull it off since they seem to have attention spans shorter then fish, but when the day came they were so impressive! I was so proud of my kids who had lines and didn't mess them up and I was impressed by how serious most of them were. The parents loved it. a
After the nativety play came the popuri of christmas songs. We began with the Spanish songs which the kids shouted the words at the top of their lungs. And then we had the grand final of our two christmas songs in English. As I told you before we had been learning Rudolf and then we learnd Jingle Bells...sort of. The kids did well and I was happy to be done with singing these songs since we practiced for 30 minutes everyday for a month! The parents didn't seem to notice that their children where singing jiberish most of the time probably because it sounded like English to them. But then Pat, from Nuevo Mundo, came up to me after the show and said "Great job, you know it was the first time I ever heard Rudolf in Japonese!" Pat is an American by the way and quite sarcastic too.
It wasn't until after the guarderia Christmas show on the 22nd that I finally felt as if it were Christmas. And then it got crazy. John and Julia work at a shelter for street boys in the mornings. Several of the boys and the other Ecuadorian volunteers were not going to be going anywhere for Christmas so we decided to invite them over to spend Christmas eve with us. So what we realized is that we were throwing a Christmas party for what ended up being close to 20 people. And as many of you know throwing a party can be quite the production. Early on the 24th Julia and I woke up and headed to the market in the center of Duran to buy the 6 pounds of rice, 5 pounds of pasta, 11 pounds of flour and various other items for the dinner. We also had a neighbor, Alicia, cutting up the chicken for us because we had no idea how to take apart a whole chicken.
We spent the rest of the morning of the 24th with the other volunteers at a morning of reflection in Arbolito. It was nice to take some time out of the business of Christmas to sit and talk with each other about what it means for us to be hospitable here in Ecuador. But right after the reflection we ran home to AJS to begin the chopping, peeling and cooking for the party. We continued to prepare dinner until 8pm when Steve, Laura and I headed over to Omar and Elizabeth's house for a quick visit before mass. We stopped by said Merry Christmas and lucky for us their dinner wasn't ready yet, otherwise we would have gone to mass and fallen into a food coma! (Ecuadorians love to feed you...a lot even if you tell them you only want a little)
Mass was beautiful and even though we got there 30 minutes early we were still unable to find enough seats all together and so we were dotted throughout the church sitting with various neighbors and friends. For the homily a few of the local kids did the nativiety play including Fr. Manuel making the crying noise of the newly born baby Jesus, it was very strange but funny at the same time. While I missed my usual midnight mass at St. Mary's I loved the spirit of our mass here in Duran, the music, clapping and true happiness of the people to be there celebrating the birth of Christ. For our closing song we sang...Happy Birthday! How funny right? Mom, it was just like in Bells of St. Marys!
We came home from mass and Steve, Laura and I went over to Javier's house where the family had been waiting for us to start dinner, we felt bad since it was already close to 11pm and the kids were tired, but as always they told us it wasn't a problem and they felt blessed that they could share their food and family with us, beautiful. We left Javier's fuller than necessary and couldn't imagine eating anymore. After Javier's Steve came with me to Cira's house for a very very quick visit since it was almost curfew and we still had to eat dinner with the boys. And again we were greeted with open arms, a slew of Feliz Navidads and many besitos on the cheek.
Cira is one of my closests friends here in Ecuador, she works at Nuevo Mundo in the kitchen and has such a warm and welcoming personality. She told me the other day, "Ha conocido muchos gringos pero tu eres mi primero gringita amiga" (I have known alot of white people (volunteers) but you are my first white friend). She and her family are just wonderful people and I'm so glad that I have met her. But of course being Ecuadorians her family woulnd't let Steve and I just sit there and talk we had to have food and lots of it! And so she served us to heaping plates full of rice, macaroni salad, pork and chicken. They do not mess around with Christmas dinner. Unfortunatly we could only stay for 20 minutes and we left with our full plates, because she wouldn't let us leave our food, and some candies for the road.
We came home just in time to help serve up the food for the boys and Steve and I shared our 3rd meal of the night together. It was 12am when we finally sat down exhausted and tired from all the running around of the day, but we were all together sharing in the meal we all helped to make. Everyone was happy and enjoying themselves, it was finally Christmas.
Christmas morning Laura and I woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn (5:50am) to travel to Padre Damien where Laura volunteered to give the doctor a day off an due her rounds of curasion, or wound care. So while Laura cleaned the wouds of patients and I fought the need to sleep on the hospital bed that was in the room. It was a fruitless battle as I couldn't resist anymore and ended up taking a nap. Every time I would open my eyes there would be a new patient staring at me probably thinking "what a useless person!" I was glad I went though so that Laura wasn't alone, and good thing I went because on our way home she fell asleep on the bus and was almost near impossible to wake up!
Christmas night all the volunteers went back to Damien house to carol for the patients who seemed to enjoy it, although most just watched us like we were crazy. We had fun if nothing else. And then we had a huge delicious Italian dinner with Sr. Annie, Pat and Sonya. I can't think of a better way to end Christmas then all together enjoying each other's company, laughing, talking and towards the end singing again. And although in the back of my mind I was thinking about my family and our Christmas traditions it didn't take away from my first and probably only Ecuadorian Christmas.
The past few weeks have been really difficult on all of us here in Duran. We've been missing home and loved ones, we've been challenged by things we never thought would happen and we've been shaken up, but at the end of the day, week, month and year what is going to matter the most is the time I have spent learning to love and support my community. Family and friends I will come back and be able to love you better because of this year, how great right?!
Quick updates that I don't need to write a lot about:
1. You may say "I told you so" but I have realized that I do indeed love the kids at the guarderia even though they make me crazy.
2. We threw this awesome party for the guards and their families. It was great. We had to put on a dance for them so we did it to this song "Mi Burrito" and John was the donkey, there should be a video on facebook for you to see it's hilarious.
3. We did secret santa in the house and it was the most bootlegged thing I have ever been apart of. People half assed their gifts last minute, Laura literally put plantains that we had on our counter in a bag for John. It was really funny.
4. New Years resolution for the house, to practice self control since we have none!
5. We have taken it upon ourselves to pick up some local ways of speaking, most recently we have noticed that Ecuas use the word "pues" (well) alot so now we do to, as a joke. "Ya pues" "No pues" "cayate pues" I could go on.
6. We had another mouse encounter, and I had video of it, but somehow it was erased. This one was huge and it took 3 people to catch it. Eventually Javier stepped on it's head....gross
7. On Christmas day I talked to Mike and Kelly and I heard Cecilia say her alphabet...of course I cried. My house mates just think I'm crazy sometimes!
We are entering our 6th month...jeez where does the time go? I'll be home before I know it and that scares me. As always thanks for reading. I hope it was at least a worthy blog to wait so long for. I miss everyone but I'll see you soon!
Oh and Jenny if you are reading this your card was delievered! They loved it!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I began this blog about a month ago and was never able to finish it until now. So enjoy the double blog entries in one day!
Well a month later I find myself coming back to my blog that I have unfortunately neglected for way too long. As time here in Ecuador continues it also seems to be speeding up and disappearing into oblivion. With our jam packed schedules and multiple obligations it has been difficult to find the time to just sit and think about what to write, so it is even more difficult to find time to actually write! But enough complaining, because really everyone is pressed for time it's just up to the person to prioritize and to take advantage of what they have. So onto the blog!
On Thanksgiving day I was able to talk to Mom for a bit which is always nice. But this phone call mom had a special request for me; “Mary, can you stop gushing so much in your blogs” she said with her I'm trying to be serious but still trying to keep things light, voice. I laughed at her because I knew that she had read the most recent blog in which all I did was “gush” about my feelings. It wasn't that mom didn't like to hear about how I was feeling, she just wanted me to “Paint me a picture of where you are."
This wasn't the first time that someone had asked me to “paint” a picture of Duran. Several people have written or emailed asking me to describe the scenery around me, to describe the sights, sounds and smells of Duran so that they could have a better image of where to place me. And so I've thought and thought about how to actually describe Duran, to paint a picture with words of what to me has become “the norm.”
The more I thought about this the less I could come up with, but allow me to try and attempt to describe Duran.
Gray. Cement. Garbage littered streets. Mud and dirt. Loud, big buses that spew toxic fumes and pollute the already heavily polluted air. Stray healthy looking dogs. Stray sickly looking dogs. Windows with steel bars. Roosters and chickens pecking at garbage hoping to find some sort of food. Children running by themselves with no parent or guardian in sight. Small stores the size of your bedroom that carry everything from rice and eggs to school supplies. More garbage. Large garbage fires that billow stench and black smoke. Lots of polvo (dirt or dust). Music that is so loud it pulses in your chest when you pass by a house. People shouting things across the street. Non paved roads. Rocky roads that are at times difficult to walk down without tripping. No trees. No grass. No nature.
But then I come home to a beautiful two story brick building with a large enclosed porch. Our drive way is surrounded by different trees and flowers and we are guarded by Oso the friendliest golden retriever mix you'll find in Ecuador. As I round the corner of our street I'm struck by the beauty of our house and complex, I'm struck by it's grandur and presence. And most recently I'm struck by the fact that whenever I see our house I feel that sense of peace and calm of being home. I come home to spacey Laura, loud and crude John, enthusiastic Steve and Julia the challenger. I couldn't have asked for a better house or housemates. Our bedrooms are small but cosy and our house is painted in warm yellows and makes me feel as if we are surrounded by sunlight. The layout of our house is open but the rooms all kind of run together. Our dinning and living room are one in the same and our kitchen is right in the middle, so while one of us is cooking the other is usually sitting at the table talking about their day. We are always together in a good way and most of the time we are laughing and enjoying each others company. Even during our hardest and most challenging conversations we can always come back to the center of it all, loving each other and holding each other accountable to the mission we signed up for in the beginning of the year.
Mom also asked me to describe the people who I spend my time with but I feel as if there is no way to describe them, you just have to get to know them. So mom, when you come down to visit, as soon as you get that passport, you can meet them in person and see how wonderful they really are.