Kiss Me, I'm Not Cuencana

With the little Irish blood I have, Happy St. Patrick’s Day. With the non-existent Ecuadorian blood I have, Felíz Día de San Patricio.

The past few days have been eventful in my own weird way. This month’s First Friday Art featured a local artist who makes a lot of street art in Cuenca. In fact, I was astounded when I recognized a piece in his portfolio…it was the mural I’ve seen in a woman’s house! The woman who owns Ginger, the dog I walk three times a week, has a huge mural in her dining room, and it was painted by this artist. What’s more, the dog in the mural is Ginger herself, so I know a famous dog. Ha-ha.

Anyway, I truly enjoyed his art, and we had a nice conversation at his exhibition. I love when an artist is so passionate about their work, and this man was so enthralled by what he does that talking to him had me somewhat entranced. I also met an expat woman who manages an online arts magazine. When I told her that I like to sketch, paint, and write, we really hit it off, and she offered me a monthly column to write about the First Friday artists! I met up with the artist for an interview and a little city tour of his work; it was great!

In other news, I finally made it to a dentist’s office. It was actually a dental student, I was referred to him by someone in the CEDEI (the school I work at.) I ended up there the first time to accompany my friend, who had a dental emergency (a piece of her tooth fell out!) I scheduled an appointment for a cleaning with the dentist, and he told me I had 4  -count ‘em, 4-    cavities. What the heck? I’ve had maybe one in my lifetime, and my last cleaning was in the summer before I left. I was in serious doubt, but then he showed me pictures using some mouth camera, and I saw dark spots on my teeth, but I’m no dentist. It could be nothing for all I know.

I talked to the other teachers who’ve been to this dentist. I got super scared, especially after hearing that the dental tools smelled strange and used, and a teacher said that even after her cleaning, her mouth still felt plaque-y. Also, I witnessed the dentist work on my friend’s mouth, go open a door (with his gloves on) and then proceed to stick them back in my friend’s mouth. The office also doesn’t have a receptionist or dental nurse, just two guys. And they keep their appointments in a simple notebook (they take your name only.) So…I am not going back there. I did ask one of my students (who is also studying dentistry) to look in my mouth, and she said I had cavities. Now I have an appointment at the end of the week with a dentist who speaks English and treats lots of gringos. She comes recommended, so I feel better. Believe me, it’s intimidating to sit in a dentist’s chair, only half-comprehending what he’s saying (I don’t know much dental vocab in Spanish) and be told he has to drill 4 holes in your teeth.

There is something to celebrate though, and that’s the end of classes! I only have one more Saturday to teach, and I’m not even really teaching, just giving a final exam. Cue the evil laughter. I’m very determined to be a kick-butt teacher next cycle. I’m not going to lie: I’ve been lazy the last few weeks. In the fact that I go to work, open the book in front of my students, and right then and there decide what I’m going to do. Really bad, I know. Things are very laid-back here; we don’t really get evaluated, and there is no set structure to follow, just the books, which, to their credit, are chock-full of activities and such. I guess that’s Ecuador for ya.

For one thing, Ecuadorian internet service stinks! We’re with ETAPA, and had to whine about screwy service for 3 weeks until anything happened. Days were spent waiting around the house for the technicians to come. “Manaña, manaña…” Everyone knows manaña here doesn’t mean tomorrow. Even so, things have finally been patched up.

I also got wise and finally bought myself a helmet. I’d been warned by my friend (“Your parents would be so pissed if you died!”) and I witnessed a hit-and-run last week, which is quite a common occurrence, since in Ecuador you are guilty until proven innocent. It shook me up, and I called the police and stayed with the victim until an ambulance came. He was conscious, but looked in a lot of pain, obviously. There’s not really a culture of bicyclists here, but things are improving slowly. Cuenca is getting more bike paths, but motorists are really disrespectful. If I bike on the sidewalk, the pedestrians yell at me. If I bike in the street, the cars honk at me. Until I sprout wings, I must deal. And wear a helmet. At least I feel safer now, traversing and getting lost in Cuenca.

I love that feeling…exploring unknown territory, losing my bearings, but always finding my way back home. It’s fun to do this in regards to my physical location, but also metaphorically…I mean, I’ve put myself in this situation where I’m living and working in a foreign country, sometimes struggling to communicate, and addressing cultural and social norms that aren’t at all normal to me. It’s a blast. I recommend it to everyone.