Merry Christmas everyone!
Last night I finally felt like Christmas was here. Ecuadorian Christmas celebrations are different from US celebrations, but there really is something to the Christmas spirit throughout the world.
We spent Christmas Eve (and EARLY Christmas morning) with my host-mom's youngest brother and his kids (Maria Amilia, 4 and Juan Fernando, 10ish). We sat around talking and, at least for the younger adults, keeping the kids busy. Juanfer (Juan Fernando's nickname) has quite the arsenal of nerf guns, so we ran around shooting each other for a while. Cocking Amilia's gun for her just resulted in getting shot, but she would cry if you didn't, so I spent a lot of time running from her after cocking her gun.
A little while before midnight, we sat in a semi-circle around the nativity scene and listened to the final Novena. The Novena is something that just about every Ecuadorian family does. The nine days before Christmas they read parts of the Christmas story, sing, and recite prayers. We finished the Novena just before midnight, and once it was officially Christmas, Juanfer and Amilia attacked the pile of presents under the tree. Once everything was open, we adults ate dinner while the kids played with their new toys. Amilia soon discovered that I (and my jacknife) was very good at getting through the packaging on toys and putting them all together, so I spent most of the rest of the night undoing twisties, ripping open bags, and snapping pieces of plastic together. By the time we left, it was nearly 2:30 and we didn't get home until 3:00.
It may have been a different kind of Christmas, but it was definitely Christmas, and that's all I needed.
So a very merry Christmas to you all, and a happy New Year too. I'll see you next year!
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Approaching Christmas
Ok, it’s been nearly a month since I
last wrote down anything about my experiences here. That time certainly hasn’t
been void of writing, but it has all been school related.
The semester finally ended for me on
Wednesday. I took my last exam and rushed home to pack up and head out for
Otavalo again, this time with Adrianna and Maggie instead of the entire
Kalamazoo group. I didn’t realize how much I had gotten used to trimesters
until I had to sit through 16 weeks of class (trimesters are 10 weeks). We
struggled through to week ten only to find that we were just past the half-way
point and had a long way to go. AAAHHHHHH!!!
But I like doing this in order, and
there’s more to December than finals and end of the school year trips to tell
you about.
The beginning of December is a giant
party in Quito. It really starts at the end of November (around the 28th)
and continues until the 6th of December. The whole stretch of time
is called “Fiestas de Quito” (Quito Parties), and the last two days most people
don’t even have to work.
One of the fiesta days I spent
wandering around the big downtown park with a small group of people. We watched
a bit of the parade that started at 9 am and ended at 2 pm, though definitely
not all of it. Quito area seems to have a lot of marching bands. A lot of our
wandering just involved exploring the park, chatting, looking at the large
display of painted hummingbird sculptures, and avoiding long anthropology
papers, though we definitely sampled some delicious street food along the way. We
also
On the 5th, a good sized
group of us all paid a visit to the Plaza de Toros to see what bull fighting is
all about. Quito recently banned the killing of animals for sport, so the
Matador no longer kills the bull, but everything else is the same. There’s an
almost ritualistic form to the proceedings of the show (I call it a show
because there is really no better word for it). Everyone is dressed in
practically colonial clothing (not the audience, but all of the officials of
the show) and they do things in a specific order for the entire thing. It was a
strange experience to watch. At first, I found the brutality of it horrifying,
but after a while I think my brain just decided to numb the part that felt bad
about hurting the bull and it was at least interesting to watch, if not
anything I would call “fun.” The best part of the whole show was when one of
the bulls decided he didn’t want to go back into the pens under the stands.
(Since they can no longer kill them, they have to shoo them out of the plaza
after the matador sticks them with a final pokey javelin thing.) He ran around
the plaza for a good 15 minutes, avoiding the wranglers and completely ignoring
the other bulls they let out to try and lure him back in, except for charging
them a couple times. He was definitely the favorite bull of all the Kalamazoo
people.
Watching the bull fights was an
interesting experience that I am glad to have seen, though I don’t think I’d
ever really want to watch it again. It’s just too cruel, and I don’t like it
that my brain is capable of adapting within the moment to overlook that.
There were some non-bull related
things that were fun about the fights. The food outside the plaza was tasty,
and watching the people in the plaza was at times interesting and at other
times kind of hilarious. At the end of every bull’s fight, the matadors would
walk the circle of the plaza, catching hats, scarves, and sometimes even
jackets, kissing them, and throwing them back into the stands. If the audience
approved of the Matador, they would wave handkerchiefs and hats at the end of
the fight. One thing that’s common throughout the Fiestas de Quito, but
particularly so in the bullfights, is a call and response where one person
says: “Que vive Quito!” and everyone responds: “Que vive!” The best translation
of that is “Long live Quito!” and “Long may it live!” One of the variations of
this call and response that I heard a lot of in the stadium is “Que chupe
Quito!” (“Que chupe!”) which basically means “Let Quito drink/get drunk!”
Since the Fiestas de Quito, I’ve
been more or less absorbed in school work and living in Quito. It’s starting to
feel very normal to me now. I’m no longer stunned EVERY time I see a mountain
anymore. I don’t even flinch when I have to pause a conversation for the plane
flying over the bus terminal. I recognize the entire ride home from school. I’ve
gotten to a point where I can pause and appreciate life, instead of just
appreciating what is different about it. It’s nice.
The end of the school year brought
mountains of stress, but also some fun end-of-the-year stuff. The capoeira
group of which my class is a part had a big dinner and party for the end of the
year, everyone invited. I went and had a fantastic time, talking to people,
eating delicious food, and dancing until 2, when the people I had ridden with
decided it was time to go home and to bed.
I still don’t feel like my classes
are really over. Partly because I left for Otavalo so quickly after my last
exam (Geology. Hey, at least it’s over). According to the online grades, I did
fine in all of my classes, which is a relief. I wasn’t sure, since many of my
classes didn’t give me back ANY graded assignments. But the semester is DONE
and I’m sure I’ll realize it eventually.
Otavalo was, once again, quite fun. Though
this time it was much more relaxed than when we were in the Kzoo group. We
arrived, walked around and generally chilled out after a long couple of weeks
studying. The next morning we got up and made our mandatory trip to the market.
I think I finally got most of my Christmas shopping done, though no one will be
seeing their presents until February at the earliest. We wanted to do some
hiking while in the area, but we didn’t really plan well enough to actually
climb Imbabura, the local mountain. Instead, we hiked up to “La Cascada de
Peguche,” the waterfall we visited in the big group. The only difference was
that this time we walked through the entire town before hiking the short stone-paved
trail to the waterfall. We even hiked up to the top of the fall, and I ventured
into the small dark tunnel through the rock to see another part of the stream.
Seeing the other side wouldn’t have been all that exciting, except that you
couldn’t see it from the opening. The water flow was a lot stronger this time,
and, after climbing back down to the base of the fall, only Adrianna and I
braved the closer of the two bridges. We got blasted with enough waterfall mist
to make us distinctly wet for the next half hour or so, while we hiked back.
Since we missed lunch, we ate a VERY
large dinner of Ecuadorian Chinese food in a Chifa (Chinese restaurant). It
wasn’t quite Chinese food as I’ve had it before, but it wasn’t bad, and there
was a LOT of it. We rounded off the night by going to a pie shop for desert.
Our return trip to Quito provided us
with a guitar-playing singer to serenade us for a while. He was actually a very
GOOD singer and sang a couple of sad Christmas songs, a bolero (ballad), and
something he thought for sure we should know. I guess the Ecuadorians knew it,
but none of us Americans had heard it before.
And now it is Christmas Eve. I think
this is the least Christmas-y I have ever felt at this time of the year. I just
can’t seem to get into the Christmas spirit. It has to do with a lack of cold
weather, a lack of snow, and a lack of family. I walk around the streets and
hear Spanish Christmas songs, only recognizing them for what they are when I
stop and listen to the lyrics. Otherwise it just sounds like the songs they
play every day. There are a few songs I know from Spanish classes over the
years, and some are translated English carols or songs (and there’s always “Feliz
Navidad”) but for the most part none of the music feels very Christmas-y. It’s
also strange to see Christmas lights on trees that still have leaves and palm
trees all over the place. I’ll be glad when I can get back to Michigan and see
some snow. I miss the cold.
Even if I don’t feel like it’s Christmas,
Christmas is still happening around me. My host mom has spent the whole day
wandering around, wrapping presents, and cooking, while wearing a white, red,
and green apron. I heard an ad on the radio with some typical Christmas songs
that I’ve come to recognize since the season started here. While we were in
Otavalo, we saw a parade of children dressed as angels and shepherds walk by.
Everywhere there are signs of people celebrating. Little shops, all with the
same Christmas decorations, have sprung up around Quito. Even in places where
there shouldn’t have been space. On every street corner near a shopping center,
there are little stands in which one can buy wrapping paper, ribbon, and gift
bags. All in individual package sizes.
This year, I’ll be dreaming of a
white Christmas with the assurance that one is not coming my way.
None-the-less, it should be fun to spend it with my host-family, and at least
some bit of Christmas spirit I’m sure will come my way.
Merry Christmas everyone! I hope
that wherever you are, you enjoy it thoroughly.
P.S. I'll be travelling through the first week of January, so don't expect much communication from me until then.
P.P.S. Otavalo pictures here!
P.P.S. Otavalo pictures here!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Giving Thanks, for the Interesting Things
Quito has been rather eventful these
past few days, basically starting on Thanksgiving day. Big family holidays are
hard to miss, particularly when the country you are in doesn’t celebrate them.
I’m hoping Christmas is easier, if only because everyone here will also be
celebrating.
My Thanksgiving was spent at school
(for the first time in my life) and at my volunteer job. I did have a few
things to be thankful for though, one of them being my Quichua professor paying
for my bus fare saying that “Here in Ecuador, when we travel together, we
sometimes pay for each other.” (He and I ride the same bus home after class,
but this was the first time we actually talked during the journey.) When I got
home, there wasn’t a single person there, and no one got home before I finally
decided to go to bed. I found out the next morning that that was because my
host-mom had gone into the hospital. She’s still home from work and I don’t
think she’s returning until Thursday. She was in the hospital both Thursday and
Friday nights with a high fever (over 104 at the highest) wand was still
feverish Saturday and Sunday. I’ve been getting my own breakfasts in the morning
and washing more dishes since she’s been sick. In a way, it’s nice to decide
what I’m eating in the morning, but I missed having a mother figure in the
house. It’s interesting how easily I can get used to a certain way of life, or
a certain routine.
Friday was my “real” Thanksgiving. I
skipped my last class of the day to go to the store and buy carrots and salad
makings, only to find out, when the rest of my class showed up to finish their
shopping, that it had been canceled. I headed home loaded with food and spent
the next few hours in the empty house, blasting music from my laptop and
chopping carrots and lettuce ‘till kingdom come. Or, rather, until it was time
to head over to Sophie’s with my now-chopped-and-steamed carrots and Caesar
salad creation.
We all met up at Sophie’s and ate
until our stomachs were distended with delicious turkey (there were two),
mashed potatoes, casseroles, stuffing, salad, and desert. When 28 people make 28
different and wonderful homey foods for just as many homesick people, everyone
eats too much. We spent a good hour or so sitting around complaining about our
painfully full bellies and marveling at the amount of food we had stuffed into
them. Never again, even if it did taste good. That dinner definitely helped me
feel more connected and back on track though. We may be different than all the
people surrounding us, but we still have each other, and we understand each
other, and it’s really nice to know that.
Saturday, Emily asked if I wanted to
check out an ongoing LGBT film festival going on in Quito, and, wanting to get
out of the house for a change, I accepted the invitation. We saw a few short
films that were intriguing and, in some cases, strange. The best part of
getting out of the house though, was the storm that rolled in as I was standing
in the bus station. It started to pour just as I got off my first bus and ran
over to wait for Emily at the next bus. The rain though was not content to stay
rain and quickly became a hail storm. Hail the size of marbles came pelting out
of the sky, battering the tin roof of the bus terminal and nearly deafening
everyone under it. Not everyone seemed as enchanted and excited by it as I did,
but I couldn’t help noticing the two “ejercito” (army) men standing next to me
catching the little ice balls and showing them to each other with smiles on
their faces. On the bus, Emily and I saw that, further south, the hail storm
had been much larger and the streets were still covered in a slush of little
icy balls. It actually looked like it had snowed in Quito. It was a magical experience,
kind of like the first winter snow, except that it doesn’t EVER snow here. Not
unless you climb another mile or so up a mountain and into the thin, cold atmosphere.
Sunday was my final Capoeira
certification class. It turned out to be a completely informational thing, no
activity whatsoever, which was a little disappointing, but very interesting
nonetheless. Returning home though, I saw, in the bus station, a man with no
nose. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more strikingly different in my
life. People are supposed to have noses, and this guy didn’t. He didn’t even
have nostrils, just a flat bunch of scar tissue in the middle of his face that
I tried really hard not to stare at.
Interesting things keep happening
these days. Just yesterday, instead of just getting whistled at by a group of
men I was walking by, I was actually serenaded by one of them. Not that it was
much better than the whistles and hisses, but at least he was creative. I think
I’m starting to notice more of the things I like about being here again, and
that’s definitely a good thing.
I hope all of you can notice the
good things wherever you are too, and that you can enjoy your experiences as
much as I am, once again, enjoying mine.
Friday, November 18, 2011
La Mitad: The Middle
Today is a big day. Today is the
exact middle of my time here, experiencing all things Ecuador. I hope you’re
all ready for some FEELINGS because that’s what’s in your future if you keep
reading this post.
98 days ago I was sitting in an
Airport in Atlanta, Georgia wondering what the heck I thought I was doing. Six months
away from home, away from a school I love, away from my family and my friends
was a looming figure that had just emerged from the future and into my present.
Study-abroad was always that thing that I was looking forward to. Now that I
had finally caught up to it, I wasn’t so sure it was something I should have
been excited about. I don’t know if I’ve ever been that apprehensive about
anything before. And they make you get there SO EARLY! All that time pondering
your future is torture. Fortunately for me, Hannah, Maggie, and Peter were on
the same flight, and just having someone to share the experience with, the fear
and uncertainty of it all, helped immensely. I think I would have exploded
without that support.
Since I have been here, some of
those fears have been validated, others banished, but most of them just sort of
disappeared into all the confusion that is Ecuador. I guess they didn’t really
matter that much. I’ve discovered that, yes, it’s difficult to be away from
home. I miss school. I miss music. I miss circus. I miss seasons. But, most of all,
I miss you. I miss the people that I love and care about. I just want to see
everyone, hug everyone, laugh with everyone, and share everything that I’m
experiencing through some means that doesn’t involve technology. That’s the hardest
thing about being here. I feel so separated from everyone. That’s something
that I’ve been feeling from the beginning too, though I think the feeling has
changed over time. Originally I was sad because I knew I wouldn’t see my people
for a long time, but it was an intellectual homesickness. Now, I’m finally
experiencing the real thing, and it’s not fun.
Homesickness has a few different
forms. One is what you think of little kids having: the “I wanna go home”
tantrums and the crying and the utter sadness of someone who feels lost and
abandoned. Then there’s the homesickness that I’m running into. Sure, there are
times that I just “wanna go home” and times when I feel lost, wondering what I’m
doing in a culture that is so different from what I am used to, but I never
feel abandoned. I know that the people I left in the states, you guys, are
ready to welcome me back when the time finally comes (or before if I could
manage it). The other difference, is that the “child’s homesickness” is a
fast-acting thing that comes from a change in their surroundings to something
they aren’t used to, and they just react. For me, my homesickness has come from
getting used to my new surroundings. Now that I know my way around, I’ve
started to figure out what I DON’T like about Ecuadorian culture. This means
that I start thinking more about “how we do things in the states” hence,
thinking that it’s better there and here stinks. Of course, not everything here
stinks, but that’s the perspective your brain takes when it really just wants
to be home and resting inside your skull, on your own (SOFT) pillow, inside
your own house, and in your own country. Of course, I know I’m going to do the
same thing when I’m back in the US and thinking about all the GOOD things in
Ecuador, but, at the moment, the annoyances seem to be filling my view of
things more than the good stuff.
It doesn’t help that school is
nearing the end of the semester and I’m starting to get stressed. Not to
mention that my LEAST favorite part of Ecuador is USFQ. The university is full
of students who have more money than they know what to do with (ok, I take that
back, they DO know what to do with it and they flaunt that all the time) and
aren’t really putting it to good use attending their classes. Partly since it seems
that few of them ever even go to class. The university itself has a 10%
graduation rate. And I would bet that a good portion of that 10% is the
students there on Scholarships, since they at least understand the real-world
value of the money being spent on their education. They also actually come to
class.
I am hoping that once classes are
over, I’ll get out of the slumps a bit. I’m just ready to move on to something
different. Maybe that’s also due to the fact that I’m taking semester length
classes for the first time since my freshman year of high school, so all the
topics I’m studying are getting kind of old. Come January though, I’ll be able
to travel more freely on the weekends and also do things during the week around
Quito, since I won’t be bogged down by so much homework.
All in all though, I’m still happy
to be here. I’m happy to have the opportunity to experience such a different
culture and language and to get to know both intimately. I’m glad that there
are places in the world that do things so differently, and that that knowledge
won’t be lost as long as we can all stay connected and keep sharing our
differences with each other. I love how much I can learn in a single day, just
because I’m seeing and experiencing things I’m not used to. And the feeling I
get when I finally figure out something fantastic is one of the best feelings
around.
It’s just that, sometimes, it’s hard
to remember all of that. And sometimes I don’t even want to, because I just
want to think about home.
Don’t worry though, I’m still happy
more than I am sad, frustrated, and disappointed. And it’s really much better
than what I was afraid of sitting in that airport 98 days ago questioning my
sanity and dreading the worst. Life continues, and it continues to help us
grow, and I will be home before I know it, wondering why I was ever homesick in
the first place.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Good Days
Hey! It’s been a while!
Life has gotten pretty busy here. We
are nearing the end of the semester (only about a month left!) and work is
piling up. Why is it that teachers like to give you big projects and papers all
due at the end of the term. I mean really. They all do it. They all know
everyone else does it. Why can’t they space it out a little better?
Because of that, I may be rather
unreliable in my updates over the next month. I also may resort to bogging as a
source of procrastination and the number of posts I write could skyrocket. It
all depends.
This last weekend I went to a big
event hosted at the university by my instructor’s Capoeira group. They do two
events every year, a big one and a little one. This one was the little one. It
started off with two evenings of “seminars” taught by 3 Contra Mestres (Mestre
is the highest level, these guys are just under that) [it takes about 30 years
of training to become a Mestre] that came from Brazil, Peru, and Guayaquil (the
other big city in Ecuador). There were also a few other invited experts from
Colombia and other places around and in Ecuador, but they didn’t teach classes,
just helped out with other parts of the event. Saturday, there was a final seminar
and then we all got together to have a rola. A rola is what would be sparring
in any other martial art, except that Capoeira is not about the fight. There IS
no fight, there is only the “game,” friendship, and training the body to “free
the self.” That’s the best translation of it all I can articulate at the moment
anyway.
The seminars were great and I had a
lot of fun learning a bunch of new things. I hadn’t realized how used to my
instructor’s methods I was. It was especially interesting to learn from the
Brazilian Contra Mestre, Narcelio. He didn’t speak any Spanish. Or English. Or
any language I actually know how to speak. He spoke Portuguese. Fortunately,
that meant I wasn’t the only one being confused half of the time since the
Ecuadorians also had a hard time understanding him. It was nice to know that I
can basically understand Portuguese though, if I try hard. Even with the
language problem, Narcelio was my favorite to learn from. Everything he does is
perfectly executed. When he does a backflip, he does it slowly. When he moves,
he just seems to know exactly where his body is. It’s amazing to watch.
Saturday night was the Bautizo, or
the ceremony where everyone gets their new chords. Chords are to Capoeira what
belts are to Karate and other such martial arts. The thing about Chords is that
they not only require certain skills to acquire, but time and dedication as
well. Like I said before, the highest ranking belt takes nearly 30 years to
get, and that’s not because it takes that long to acquire the skills, it just
takes that long. I still don’t understand all the interworkings of it all, but
every time something is explained to me, I like it more. The ceremony started
with the higher levels receiving their next chords. They “played” with each
other first, then each played with an expert level Capoeirista, and then received
their chords. The certification for the chords is done prior to the ceremony.
The final group was all of us who were ready to receive our first ever chords.
For us, events were a little different. We didn’t play amongst ourselves, but
dove right in to playing with the experts, and this time they chose us and
played us to the end. By “end” I’m referring to when they finally took it upon
themselves to throw us on the ground. The idea of the first Bautizo is to cause
the newbies to fall so that their first fall is caused by an expert. Once the
newbie has fallen, the game is over and the expert gives them their chord.
Narcelio gave me mine. I think it made my entire week.
So I now have the first chord of
Capoeira and I feel like I’m part of a bigger group of Capoeiristas. It’s a
good feeling, especially here where it’s hard to feel included in anything
sometimes. Spending all-day every-day in another language and away from the
groups I have dedicated myself to for the past two years is hard sometimes.
When I’m having fun though, I can forget all of that, and life seems really
good.
Yesterday was one of those “life is
good” days.
I’d been cramming in homework since
the day before, and it promised to be another chock-full day, but, through a bit
of fortune that came my way, I ended up with some free time. My ICRP was
cancelled. Of course, I didn’t find this out until I arrived at the gate and
the guard told me that everyone had gone to Ambato, kids and all. Since I had
some free time, and the FIFA Ecuador vs. Peru game was set to start in half an
hour, I decided to call a friend or two to see if we could get into the game. I
got a hold of Gina, but neither of us was willing to pay enough to get one of
the remaining tickets, so we walked around looking at Ecuador merchandise,
bought ourselves some yellow shirts, and generally had a good, if indecisive,
time. We met up with Emily in Quicentro, the mall across the street from the
stadium, changed shirts in the bathroom, and bought some delicious ice cream.
After having a bit of an adventure trying to get OUT of Quicentro, we decided
to head over to where we knew a group of K kids were hanging out, eating, and
watching the game. We arrived just in time to see Ecuador score, and only
barely left before they scored again and finished the game 2-0. We managed to
beat the traffic home from the stadium though, so it was worth it.
And just to make it clear, life
decided to find me a four-leaved clover.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Amazonia: an amazing (and watery) place!
Today is a good day. I walked to
lunch with my family, we got ice cream on the way home, and I have been
avoiding homework and doing more fun and relaxing things all day. And this
after coming home last night after a good night with friends and a wonderful
vacation. There are few things that could make life better right now. One of
those things would be if my homework for next week would all do itself, but I’m
choosing to ignore the fact that that won’t be happening unless my homework
suddenly becomes sentient. Which could possibly cause me more stress than just doing it
in the first place.
ANYWAY.
I’m sure what you all want to hear
about is Kalamazoo’s trip to the Amazon! We started by doing exactly the
opposite you would think and drove higher up into the mountains to the hot
springs of Papallacta (said: pah-pah-YAHK-tah). They are really much nicer than
the ones in Baños. I think we actually spent too much time there. We were all
overheated and pruney long before it was time to leave, but it was also nice to
be able to just lie on the grass and soak up the sun for a bit without worrying
about anything.This was the beginning of a very wet, but enjoyable trip. I think I wore my bathing suit for most of the time I was there.
Our ride to the hostel from
Papallacta was long and rainy, but we were all super excited when we finally
arrived to see that we were staying in what was basically a 5-star hotel in the
middle of the jungle. The place was gorgeous. A major step-up from where we had
been on the last trip. They even gave us mini piña coladas as a welcome
cocktail! (I like piña coladas.)
Once the rain let up a bit, we went
on a short hike through the forest next to the hostel with a local guide
leading the way. He told us all about some of the plants in the forest and a
few of their uses. One of the plants we saw is an invasive one (I don’t think
it’s non-native, I think he was just saying that it invades areas, though I’m
not sure) that has a symbiotic relationship with ants. The leaves grow little
hollow areas on their stems and the ants live in these little pockets. Out
guide broke open a couple pockets and told us to try the ants. As in EAT them.
They taste like lemon. You actually aren’t supposed to eat the whole ant, just
stick it on your tongue, taste it and spit it out again. One of the three I ate
bit me on the lip on the way back out, but they don’t have any venom, so it
didn’t actually hurt too badly. Our hike ended at a waterfall in which we all
had a grand time getting doused. Sharon, one of the chaperones for out K group
told us to wear our mud boots into the water, but she wasn’t too insistent, so
a few of us went without. You just can’t go swimming with boots on. Even if the
water really isn’t deep enough to swim in. Post-swimming, our guide painted our
faces with crushed up river clay-rock stuff, and we hiked back to the hostel.
Jumping straight into the pool once we got there to pass the time until dinner.
Day two, we got up and went down to
one of the rivers in the region, hopped in a couple of giant covered canoes
with motors, and set off downstream. Turns out we were headed to a zoo of
rescued amazon animals that was upstream on a river that merges with the one we
were one, a river that I just so happen to have seen before: Rio Arajuno (See
my “Tell me a Story” post for that prior visit). Most of the animals in the zoo
were once kept as exotic pets by people who didn’t know any better, but soon
learned. There were toucans, big cats, wild boar-like creatures, an anaconda,
and a bunch of different kinds of monkeys. The best were the little monkeys
running lose through the zoo. Apparently their kind reproduces so fast that
they really can’t be kept in a cage, so they just let them run. After that we
went back downstream to eat lunch and change into our swimsuits to go swimming
in the rivers.
We jumped out of the boats onto a
wonderful sandy area just where the two rivers merged. Rio Napo is much faster
than Rio Arajuno, so we were only supposed to swim on the Arajuno side, though
we waded out a bit into the Napo because it was very shallow for a good
distance and considerably warmer.
From there, it was time to go back
to the bus and ride over to a museum on an old hacienda. The museum is also a
zoo and a store and the native people live there. We saw even MORE animals,
though this time the cages weren’t as nice, and learned more about the
perspective on vegetation and wildlife of the area. Our guide through the
museum told us more about the native plants and their various uses: for curing,
for harming and poisoning, and for hallucinating to find out your future. The
museum was kind of interesting; seeing all of the different things that people
have used traditionally in the area for centuries.
On our way back to the hostel for
another relaxed night of swimming (and this time playing games too!) we stopped
in town to get Ice cream. Kalamazoo’s treat.
The next morning was our last in the
Amazon, but we still had a full day ahead of us, and not just full of travel.
We set off in the morning to visit a famous cave in the area. The bus dropped
us off on the side of the road, where we then hiked up the side of a hill to
the entrance of the cave. This cave is run through by a good-sized stream that
rushed in our ears as we descended into the darkness, every third person
wearing a headlamp, since they didn’t have enough for the whole group. The tour
through the caves was mostly just an exercise in, well, exercise, and a trying
to get to all the different parts even though the cave was completely crowded
with people. The number of people in the cave astounded me, since we hadn’t
seen anyone on the tiny trial up to the entrance. One of the really interesting
parts of the cave was a small waterfall, at the base of which were three deep
holes, one 4 meters, one 2, and one 1 ½. We all got to go in them, though not
head first like our cave guide. The whole walk through the caves was very wet.
At one point, we even had to pull ourselves across a deep part with a rope,
just floating in the water. I had brought my camera (inside 3 separate zip-lock
bags) and had to carry it across this part in my teeth. Oh the things we will
do for pictures. We were entering a larger and broader part of the cave, when,
all of a sudden, the passageway turned 90 degrees and opened out onto a
surprising scene: a big public pool. This answered my question as to where all
the people in the cave had come from: the park. Apparently we entered through
the sneaky back way and had no idea we were going to emerge into such a
developed place. The pool was fed with cave water and had two giant
water-slides on one side. Only one of the slides was running, but it was a fun
one. It was also probably the most dangerous water-slide I have ever been on in
my entire life. The first part was super slow, but then it all of a sudden
dropped off really fast and whipped around into the pool, making you feel like
you were going to fly off the side and onto the cement instead of staying IN
the slide and making it into the water. None of us fell out, but it certainly
seemed possible. The fun thing was that there were no lifeguards, whatsoever,
so you could do anything you wanted on the slide. For example: get a group of
about 10 K college kids lined up in a train to go down all at the same time. I
was on the end of that one. There was a kid there that we all thought was crazy
who kept going down the slide standing and hanging onto the edge. We were at
least more careful that that!
Our last event of the trip was much
quieter. After packing up back at the hotel, we headed out and stopped on the
way to see some ancient Petroglyphs on a couple of big boulders. They have been
dated to about 200 years B.C.E., and were pretty neat. It was amazing to me that
they have lasted as long as they have, since the Rainforest is pretty good at
disintegrating things and the carvings weren’t that deep. No one knows why they
are there, or who made them, but they have a few good guesses about what some
of them are supposed to be. One was supposedly a Shaman, another the Pacha
Mama. (Kinda like Mother Earth, but with the addition of the title of diety.
Sorta.)
One of the things that really amazed
me about the trip was how in the caves and with the petroglyphs and basically
everything else, we were allowed to TOUCH it all. That kind of thing is NEVER
allowed in the US. Mostly because it’s very destructive to be touching
stalactites and petroglyphs since it inhibits their growth and wears them away,
respectively. I think that people know that here, but there isn’t a strong of a
culture of following the rules, or even having rules, here. I mean, another
good example of that is the total lack of lifeguards at the pool with the
slides.
The ride back to Quito was long, but
made better by the fact that when I got back I didn’t go home, but instead went
over to Bridget’s with a bunch of friends, got pizza for dinner, and watched a
movie together. It was kind of a refusal to believe that vacation was over, and
that was a fun little bit of rebellion to share with everyone.
I hope you all had your own fun bits
of rebellion this week. Vacation is over for me, and school starts again
tomorrow. I’m not ready for it, but it’s on its way no matter what, so I’ll
meet it tomorrow morning deal with it.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The coast: a bit of a bumpy ride.
As I write this I am sitting on my
bed drinking what basically amounts to liquidy apple sauce and eating crackers.
That would be because my host-mom is an amazing person and knows how to take
care of a poor soul who has been the victim of food poisoning. That’s right. Our first extended holiday trip
was hit by a good deal of upset stomachs on the ride home yesterday. Six of us
threw up (me included, multiple times each) and there were a handful of others
who didn’t feel very good. But we lived through it all and made it home (with a
trip to the hospital for some IV’s on the way), and we will be ready to tackle
the amazon tomorrow, instead of today.
Besides the trip home though, I had
a blast on the coast. Even the long trip there was enjoyable in its own way. I
finally remembered to bring my iPod, so I had something to listen to. I had an
interesting experience as we were passing through each of the small towns as
well, just looking out the window and seeing all the people as we passed by.
For them, our entire existence in our bus was basically as meaningless as their
existence to us, and yet, each of them has cares and concerns and a whole life
apart from that moment where they saw me on the bus, and I saw them. I don’t
know if I’m actually conveying the feeling very well, but it was a powerful
feeling for me to see that there are so many people and so many different lives
out there that are so different and disconnected from my own. It’s not the
first time I’ve had that feeling, but definitely the strongest.
The first night on the coast, we
were introduced to the station and told that we wouldn’t be going to the beach
because it would be getting dark soon. Well. That wasn’t going to stop US. So
we headed out from the station through the shrimp farms until we found a bit of
beach. It was nice to be able to just walk out into the water (which was warm,
even though it’s the ocean) and watch the sun go down. Granted, the sun was
behind a bunch of clouds, but the clouds turned a pretty pink color.
The next day we got up bright and
early to go hiking through the forest. We were introduced to all sorts of
different jungle plants and Alaina and I even saw a black snake! (I tried to
get his picture, but it turned out all blurry.) The part we were walking
through was a shade cacao plantation. Sorta. There were cacao (chocolate) trees
in the forest and we picked a couple and ate the coating around the coco beans.
It doesn’t taste anything like chocolate even though it’s really good, and the
coco beans themselves are really bitter. We came out on the other side of the
forest to an oil palm plantation that was NOT being shade grown. That was an
opportunity to hear all about jungle farming practices and what should be done
and what shouldn’t. We stopped in town in the middle of our walk, looking at
all of the houses of the people there and watching a few town boys play with
toy cars in the dirt road. Walking back along the beach, we found a bunch of
shells and different creatures. First was a crab, then Maggie and I saw a
flounder, and then a bunch of us found a starfish. I was not ready to leave the
beach when we did, but the walk back through the mangroves around the shrimp
farms almost made up for it. We trekked back through the mud, among the trees,
and alongside big wet areas, mostly square, that contain shrimp. The people dig
shallow ponds, fill them with water from the ocean, stock them with shrimp, let
the shrimp grow, then drain the ponds and collect the shrimp. These farms are
great for getting shrimp, but they destroy the mangroves to make them, so they
are both a blessing and a curse to the community. There aren’t many ways to
make money in the area, so people will scrape by any way they can, and usually
in more ways than one.
Our next big activity for the day
was travelling over to the island to go clam digging. I have so much respect
for the people who dig clams for a living. They spend the entire day bent over digging
through bud with their hands looking for mud-colored clams. I only found one
that was any good the entire time we were digging, though I did find one shell
that lacked a clam and one clam that was too small to eat. Not only is the job
difficult, it can be dangerous. There are spiky fish, crabs, and eels that can
get you if you aren’t careful. Once we had returned to the town on the island,
(through deeper mud than we had been through the first time, tides do rise
after all), we cleaned off as best we could and migrated toward the local dance
hall. We were served ceviche (a type of acidy soup made with seafood) made from
our clams and a bunch of other ones that had been found by actual clam diggers.
Post-ceviche, we were given a marimba and dance demonstration which was really
interesting to watch, though I didn’t actually see much of it because I was
bogged down my children who wanted to take pictures with my camera. Regular old
pop music was blasted through the speakers after the party, and we all danced
with the locals. It was surprising how much the little kids could dance, and
how they were dancing. You think kids dancing at a high school prom is bad, you
should have seen the 9 and 10 year-olds we were dancing with. They know how to
get down and dirty a lot better than I do! Which could be some part of the
explanation for child pregnancies among the population, but more likely it all
comes from the same source. Whatever that may be.
The next day was mangrove day. We
all got in boats early in the morning and rode out deep into the mangroves
until we were back to solid land, got out of the boats, and went hiking around
looking for monkeys. We actually found one too! A lone howler monkey, probably
a male, sitting all by himself up in a tree. He was kinda cute, but also kinda
far away, so he was difficult to see clearly. After monkey-hunting, we rode out
to a different island and ate breakfast, before heading back into the
mangroves. We learned all about the different types of mangroves that exist in
Ecuador and were then given permission to go climb them. I think climbing up
mangrove roots was one of my favorite parts of the whole trip.
From there, we finally got to eat
lunch and explore the beach! (This is the coast after all.) A bunch of us took
the opportunity to jump in the waves, which was extremely enjoyable until I got
stung by a jellyfish. He was just a little guy, so the sting went away after a
while, but he really didn’t HAVE to sting me in the first place. We picked up a
bunch of shells and got to ride in tricimotos (I think it translates to
rickshaw in English) down the beach to more cool places where we could see
crabs and explore in the sand. All in all, I think we all had a good time on la
playa (the beach) and even enjoyed the shrimp dinner we had until it came back
to bite us all the next day.
Now I’m all packed up and ready to
go to the Oriente tomorrow morning. I hope this trip has a happier ending!
Also, pictures are already up! Go
check ‘em out here!
Friday, October 28, 2011
Let's eat!
Who’s
hungry? Because I have quite the backload of food observations for the
enjoyment of your stomachs! It will have to be imagined enjoyment, but I have
faith in your imaginations.
So,
you all may remember that one of my first meals here included soup with a
chicken foot it in. Well, things haven’t really gotten stranger, but they also
haven’t been much more “normal.” Or at least they weren’t until I got used to
them.
Food
here, in general, has some very defining characteristics. They are, to quote a
friend who also studied here, “carbs, carbs, carbs, carbs, and more carbs!” I’d
add a bunch of salt in there somewhere, but that honestly pretty accurate.
Now,
keeping the abundance of carbs in mind, people here ARE very creative with what
they have to work with. And the sheer variety of fruit that is available here
makes up for the lack of differences in the main course.
A
typical lunch here (which, if you remember, is the big meal of the day)
consists of a bowl of soup (with a starch and some carbs in it usually. Unless
it has a foot, then it’s mostly just foot and broth. Or maybe that’s just all I
noticed…), a piece of meat, a “salad” (this means there is a spoonful of some
sort of vegetable-like thing cut up, often salted, and placed on your plate),
and lake of minestrone next to a mountain of rice. (When I come home, DO NOT
FEED ME RICE. Thanks.) If you’re out eating, you will also receive a tiny
little desert at the end of your meal. What this desert actually consists of is
usually in part a mystery. A mystery that is often not resolved even after you
finished eating it. (I know that was a strawberry, but what was on top of it?
Or that spongy thing that looked like a cheesecake, but tasted more like
whipped yogurt? What do they make this stuff out of???)
Don’t
get me wrong, I really do love Ecuadorian lunches, but they are just all so
similar.
One
wonderful thing about food here is that it is CHEAP. If I have to pay more than
3 dollars for lunch, I feel like I’m spending too much money. I good lunch
usually costs me $2.50, but if I don’t have a lot of time to eat and pick
something up at the bus station, I can eat pretty well for about $1.
There’s
honestly way too much to say about the food here not to break it down into
sections. First up: fruit. Just about any fruit you can think of grows here,
which is just wonderful if you ask me. There’s yellow and white pineapple, a
couple different kinds of mangos, pears, papaya, passion fruit, a jillion kinds
of orangey citrusy fruits, delicious strawberries, mora (a kind of
raspberry/blackberry type fruit), and more! The only thing that is really
disappointing about the fruit, is that the apples here aren’t very good. And
they don’t have cherries. Of course, I might just be spoiled by home-grown
Michigan stuff, but I really do miss good apples. A couple of the fruits I’ve
tried here, that I’d never seen before, are absolutely delicious. Guanabana and
pitajaya are the two that come to mind most readily, for they are delicious. I
know that one can buy guanabana juice in the states, but I don’t think pitajaya
exists outside of the tropics. I could be wrong, but I certainly had never seen
it before I got here.
Dairy.
Is interesting. People here really love their mozzarella. Like, REALLY. In the
grocery store, there’s a small portion of a shelf next to the deli devoted to
some expensive hard cheeses. However, there is a portion of the wall about 10
ft long devoted to mozzarella. And nothing else. Next to that is a bit devoted
to queso fresco, which is kind of like a hard cheese before it has been
hardened. Sorta. But there is a real discrepancy between the amount of
mozzarella and everything else. You can tell what kind of cheese these people
like. Anyway, more dairy. Milk here comes in bags (I have yet to see any in a
carton), and is generally drunk warm. Yogurt is drinkable (seriously,
completely drinkable and super runny) and comes in a number of flavors, but not
quite the variety we have in the states (we kind of go a little overboard I
think). I really like the yogurt though. It’s delicious, and makes for a good
portable snack, being drinkable and all.
Eating
meat here, as you may have guessed, is an adventure. When I go out to restaurants,
I have started asking for the “carne” (meat) option, just because if I ask for
chicken, I have no idea what part of the chicken I’m going to get (I usually
end up with the tail. This may contribute to my carne preference). Don’t get me
wrong, the chicken is usually wonderful, but I’m not always sure how to eat it.
Ordering fish is also a good option, but only if you aren’t freaked out by
heads and fins and scales and bones. The only thing they bother to do with the
fish before coking it is take the guts out. My host dad’s favorite part of the
fish is the head. I give him mine (or rather he just puts all the heads on his
plate when he serves up the fish). Carne here refers to any kind of meat that
is not chicken. (Vegetarians have a hard time with this. If you say you don’t
eat meat, people will say “Oh! Then we will give you chicken!”) This means
there is a wide variety of what you may be getting if you order the carne
option. You could end up with a thin piece of beef, well done, but cooked well
(as in, tasty), or you might get a hunk of pork, cooked exactly the same way.
Who knows! Some of the best meat I have had though has been baked pig, and
street food meat. (There is a picture of that meat somewhere on facebook. It
was delicious.) When the meat is fried, they call it “fritada” (literally:
fried. Go figure.) and that’s my favorite.
Carbs.
Where to start? Bread here is delicious. I don’t believe in white wonderbread
(I used to, but I’ve changed my mind), and neither does Ecuador. Which is fine
with me! I get to eat really good, really cheap bread every day if I want to!
Rice is everywhere here, though not in any sort of variety. It’s all white, and
it all tastes the same. Just like people here are magicians with cement, they
are magicians with potatoes. Maybe not quite as magical as with the cement, but
they do have some wonderful ideas. There’s baked potatoes and boiled potatoes
with all sorts of sauces to put on top, potatoes in soups, mashed potatoes
mixed with cheese and fried, and, a staple, French fries. Though the French fries
are by FAR the least impressive. (Boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em in a stew:
po-ta-toes [if you don’t know the reference, it’s ok.]) Yuca is also pretty
common, though it is used way more in the Oriente than here in the Sierra. It’s
tasty. Especially when fried.
Dessert
here varies. Cake is often more like sweet bread, though at times it is moist
enough to be good. The cake my host mom made for her birthday party was tasty,
though undecorated and lacking any sort of frosting. Noting this, Susie
sprinkled a packet of splenda on top to make it look prettier. There are some
interesting practices surrounding cake eating as well. At birthdays of the
youngest generation, the “cumpleañera” or “cumpleañero” (birthday girl/boy) is
required to “matar” (kill) the cake by biting into it without using any sort of
utensil. Of course, the other family members find it fun to shove the cumpleañera’s
face into the cake and everyone gets a good laugh out of it. But there are
other deserts as well. Ice cream here is amazing. It comes in a billion
different flavors and I could eat it forever. Chocolate, on the other hand, is
generally either awful or overly expensive. (And by that I mean costs the same
or only slightly more that it would in the US. What can I say? Food prices here
are spoiling me.) There are some delicious candies sold on the sides of all the
roads leading in and out of Quito that I have been on: coconut balls made with molasses
or other substances, a gel-y candy made from guayaba (I think), toffee
stretched right there in front of you, and often pieces of sugar cane to chew
on.
A
specific food I would like to share, that all of you probably THINK you know,
is tamales. Here, I have had 3 distinct types of tamales. One: a tamale without
any filling, eaten with cheese. Two: your typical Mexican tamale, only wrapped
in big leaves instead of corn husks. And three: the sweet tamale. These are
great. They are made from a sweeter corn I think, filled with a bit of chicken
and a piece of a hard-boiled egg, and occasionally have a couple of raisins in
them. They are also made with leaves. SO GOOD!
One
of the strange things about food here is the method of refrigeration. Or rather,
lack thereof. Many things I would put in the fridge, just aren’t. Not that it
matters much, they are things that don’t necessarily need it, but they last
longer that way. For example, my family often uses the oven to store cooked
meat and baked goods instead of putting the meat in the fridge and the baked
goods in Tupperware.
The
saddest thing about the general alimentation here is the lack of real coffee.
These people live in the middle of coffee country, and yet, they drink instant.
I don’t get it. The only good that comes of the instant coffee in my house, is
that I can make a mocha in the morning with my glass of milk.
Well,
I hope I made you hungry! Have a good week! I’ll be going to the coast and the
Oriente this week because the University is on vacation, so I’ll try to post
between the two trips, but no guarantees. You may not hear from me for a while!
P.S.
Trix here is in the original shapes. Not the stupid multi-colored balls they
make in the states now. It’s like I’m a kid again!!!
P.P.S. Pictures of rocks here!
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