Parting the clouds

Home. The sound of it lifts the gray veil from before my eyes and I can begin to see more clearly. The past two months are lost in a dingy well that I'm finally beginning to crawl out of. My fingers clutch slimy stones, and the stagnant water has an unpleasant odor, yet I'm going up. Up and up and up. The circular patch of blue sky is growing little by little every day. Still, the thought crosses my mind: how did I even get here?

I arrived here as fresh-faced as a budding spring blossom. Everything was new and stimulating, buzzing with the energy of the yet-to-be-explored. The parade of colorful pollera skirts flashing through the city center rushed brightly past old antique buildings boasting three-tiered balconies and meticulous brickwork. The Old and New Cathedrals graced the city's central park, while people of all kinds shuffled by or lingered around. Young and old alike; local and foreign; rich and poor-all were in abundance. The juxtaposition of Escalades zooming down the cobblestone streets and shoe-shiners sweating over their labor was enough to send a person into a camera-clicking frenzy.

Cuenca had a lot of off, and its proposal was graciously accepted. My English-teaching job led me into the lives of many interesting and memorable people. I've been blessed with some great colleagues and dedicated students. I've known what it feels like to be the profe and receive hugs and praise from students. There have been laughs and jokes and innocent blunders from student and teacher alike that put smiles on many faces. Just as my students learned, I learned as well. I believe we all will never stop ingesting new information, experiences, and lessons.

Some lessons are easily learned; others can be a slap in the face. Accepting the return of an old struggle, confronting the empty pit of longing in my heart for those I love, and very slowly becoming an apprentice of how the world works took me on a journey almost as exotic as the Amazonian jungle. Still, they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. That phrase is a half-truth in my opinion. Self-starvation may not kill me, God-willing, but it will cause some definite damage. Can I get stronger after that? What if I am starved of what makes me truly happy: my family, my friends, my art, the sun? Spiritual starvation tries to threaten me, so I cling to the book that promises that another home is being prepared for me; a home beyond human comprehension, and so magnificent. This promise keeps me going, but it is no cake-walk, nor just peachy. So maybe I've been thrown some lemons, and maybe I'm making lemonade, and maybe I'm up to my neck in it...but someone keeps tossing out a life vest. And I praise Him for it

Fake it Til You Make it

When you find yourself wallowing in your woes, it’s time to take a step back and give yourself a reality check and define what’s important. I need to filter out what my mind is telling me and focus on what the actual situation is. Let’s see…

            My mind says: You should be with your family right now!

            Reality: That’s not possible, so send them your love via email, Facebook, or Skype. You’ll be home in December.

            My mind says: These student loans need to be deferred again…and, apparently I went delinquent in March. How nice. I’ll be stuck with this debt forever.

           Reality: Almost every college grad is in your shoes! Student debt is not the horrible credit-card kind of debt, so chill. And, you’re technically volunteering in Ecuador, so that might make your deferment have special circumstances. Note to self: call loan company and explain that to them. Also, you’re 23-years-old. You will get rid of your loans. For now, you are going to enjoy your time in South America.

            My mind says: I have to eventually go back to the States and get a “job” job. OH NO!!!

           Reality: Focus on where you are right now. Did you know you’d be in Ecuador teaching English 2 years ago? No. So do you really want to fret about where you’re going to be in 2 years? Not really!

            My mind says: I’M SO EFFING HOMESICK.

           Reality: That’s totally normal. Sorry you feel that way, but you need to deal with that. At least the Internet exists! Instead of focusing on how much you miss people, why don’t you focus on how awesome Ecuador is?

Some cruddy things have been happening, but that’s LIFE. How many people my age can say they’re experiencing something new every day? I mean, in Philadelphia, I could be doing that, but it’s more exciting here! I think my generation has been trained to always think about the future. “What about your future?!?!” Well guess what: the future is not guaranteed, but today is. So make today worth it.

Everyone has bad days. Or weeks. But there is always someone worse off than you! For real.

Some positive thoughts:

               -Teaching is fun! I surprised myself by discovering that my favorite class this cycle is my 101 class of 3 students, aged 11 and 12. I have a blast with them every class. They get a kick out of the English phrase ‘silly goose.’

            -My long-lost sister got in touch with me! Well, not long-lost, but communication between us was just about non-existent. She would like to visit me here soon! Fingers crossed.

            -Today is Ecuador’s Labor Day. NO SCHOOL!

            -I’m in Ecuador.

             -I’m realizing my love of writing. I’ve been scribbling things like crazy these past couple of weeks. This is something I’d like to expand on, job-wise.

Some reflections on Ecuador:

              -Safety does not exist. I saw a mother driving a car with her 3-year-old in her lap, steering the car. This week has also been very treacherous for bike riding. Glad I bought a helmet.

            -The wealth gap is huge here. My students are mostly privileged Cuencanos (although most of them have very good attitudes.) Today, I got approached by a handful of young boys in dirty clothes and with grimy faces, trying to sell me gum or shine my shoes (despite my shoes being worn-out canvas.)

           -The rainy season in Cuenca is in full swing. Glad I bought a rainsuit.

            -They love parades here. For anything.

           -Say goodbye to your Corn Flakes. Imported food products are being banned here for the next 12 months. That’s okay; most of my food comes from the mercados.

            -Toilets flush the other way here.

Cuenca's Foundation Day

Saturday was Cuenca’s Foundation Day. According to my research, Cuenca was founded on April 12, 1557 by Gil Ramírez Dávalos. The city was named after Cuenca, Spain. Cuenca was originally a Cañari region called Guapondeleg (the Cañari are an indigenous group in Ecuador) but was conquered by the Incas. Cañari and Incan influences are still seen throughout the area today (architecture, agricultural customs.) The Incas renamed the city Tomebamba, and became known as the second Cusco! Today, the Tomebamba is one of the four rivers of Cuenca.

In 1557, Ramírez Dávalos founded Cuenca with the Spanish settlement. The city was founded after Quito and Guayaquil (the other 2 principal cities in Ecuador) but Cuenca grew to prominence during the colonial era, and today the city lures tourists from all over for its old-school charm.

Saturday, celebrations were in full swing with many things to see. I shopped til I dropped with my housemates, scouring the tents vendors set up along the river. Consumers could choose from clothing, jewelry, jigsaw puzzles, kitchenware, shoes, artisan crafts, musical instruments, furniture, paintings, and more…

The weather was also absolutely gorgeous, so I spent the afternoon soaking up the sun. Plans are underway for an Easter potluck at my house. I am going to make my “famous” guacamole, some flavored popcorn, and Rocky Road (courtesy of my friend’s recipe.) On Friday, 3 friends and I are going to Saraguro, about 2 hours away, for an overnight stay. Acknowledged for its beadwork and textiles, Saraguro will be a nice getaway on the cheap.

I have also given myself a transformation. It’s been an eventful weekend, filled with a new haircut, eyebrow waxing (I don’t want to do that again) and a makeup tutorial. I felt like a 13-year-old, hovering over the bathroom sink while my friend showed me how to put on mascara. Well, the result is nice. I think I now finally look my age! Will attach photos on the Photos page.

So I finally look 23, although I’ve been feeling pretty mature lately. What if I stay here? Or at least come back? There are so many more places I want to see in the world, and it makes me feel so blessed that I even have that opportunity. Wow. What did I do to deserve such a life? More importantly, how can I use it to better this world I’ve been born into? Teaching English is nice, and I like informing people back home about this tiny country tucked into the western edge of South America. Most people wouldn’t even give Ecuador a single thought, but this country has a lot of richness. I’ve learned to make do with only what I need, to step back and listen to other points of view and ways of life, and that even if we speak different languages, we can still communicate in various ways.

Oh! I am also published! Officially published on www.4rios4artes.ec. Woot woot! I even have my own business cards, what!

Puerto Lopez and Teaching: Take 3

The short break between teaching cycles was well-spent on a short stint in Puerto Lopez. I was accompanied by two friends/housemates/fellow teachers, and we met up with another teacher friend in Puerto Lopez. It was 3 days of sun, sea breeze, and relaxation.

We stayed at La Hosteria Mandala, a gem in the rather hum-drum, dumpy Puerto Lopez. I suppose the town is a typical beach town in Ecuador: impromptu soccer games in the sand, a coastline brimming with bars and seafood shacks, and the local residents lounging in hammocks 24/7. There seemed to be no work ethic, apart from the crew manning the hostel we briefly called home. The Mandala was wonderful. The food, the staff, the 5 resident (huge) dogs, the building itself; everything was top-notch. We stayed in the Tortuga (turtle) room, which was very comfortable and nestled in the garden area that houses the other rooms. The hostel has a nice restaurant, a game room, music room, book exchange, and beautiful artwork all throughout the premises. Owned by a Swiss/Italian couple, the hostel has bits of their essence sprinkled around the place: the music room houses exotic instruments from their travels, the restaurant includes charming accent salt/pepper shakers and the paintings and art projects that abound are a delight. The Mandala also works for a Save the Whales foundation, and tries to inform the public about the massive sea creatures and the danger they’re in. Clearly, the Mandala was our home away from home during our stay on the coast. Also, the receptionist, Jill, became a good friend as she helped us out with anything we needed. She was a blast to be around, and she spoke 8 (!) languages.

One of our days in Puerto Lopez took us to Isla de la Plata (also known as The Poor Man’s Galapagos.) For $40 a person, we took a boat ride to the island, were provided lunch, and hiked the island, observing some of the wildlife. Isla de la Plata is of course no Galapagos (no giant tortoises here) but it’s a nice and affordable alternative. Our excursion was a nice getaway from the mainland. The boat ride to Isla de la Plata lasts about an hour and a half (in motorboat) and the hikes last 2 or more hours, depending on which trail you take. Each trail gives you a different view of the island, and exposure to varying wildlife. On our hike, we saw the famous blue-footed boobies, which despite their lackluster lifestyle were a highlight for most of us. We were joined by 3 French women, a German family, another CEDEI teacher and her good friend, and a graduate student from St. Louis and her boyfriend from Guayaquil. Those two were doing research on a fly found in the Galapagos Islands that may be parasitic to the fauna there. Wow! Our tour guides were fabulous; very sociable and knowledgeable of the Isla. At times I got to work as a Spanish-English translator, which was kind of cool.

Back on the mainland, we spent our final day visiting Los Frailes, a pristine beach about 15 minutes away in motor taxi. We got a bad taste of super laid-back island life when we got overcharged for a ride in a taxi (which is basically a cart attached to a motorcycle) which was hauling some trays of fish (stinky!) and making unnecessary pit stops along the way to Los Frailes. Eh, what are you gonna do? When in Ecuador…

Sunday morning, we had to wake up at 3:30am to catch a cab to Olón (40 minutes away) where we could catch a bus to Guayaquil. From Guayaquil, another bus would take us to Cuenca. Total trip time was about 8 ½ hours. We had to be back in Cuenca for a 3:00pm mandatory meeting to receive our new teaching schedules. Bus rides can be hit-or-miss. On the way to Puerto Lopez, we had a nice luxury bus from Cuenca to Guayaquil…lots of leg room, A/C, clean and efficient. Our change-over in Guayaquil was a different story. The man at the ticket counter swindled us (but what could we do when he wouldn’t give us our bus tickets and just kept yelling at us in an indecipherable coastal accent?) We rode from Guayaquil to Puerto Lopez on the JipiJapa bus, which had no ventilation and brakes that were smoking. Quite an adventure; I was seated next to a young guy with a 20-day-old puppy in a cardboard box. If I thought I was sweating, I can’t imagine how the poor animal felt. Our bus trip coming back to Cuenca was better, although once we got into El Cajas (about 45 minutes outside of Cuenca) we came across a few landslides from saturated mountains. If it weren’t for a restaurant with a parking lot that was miraculously situated right next to a huge pile of debris, we would’ve had to dig ourselves out of the mess!

Safely back in Cuenca, we had about an hour and a half to rest up before heading to our teachers meeting at the CEDEI. This cycle I made out with 4 classes: a regular 302, 104, and 101, and a Saturday 101. I was initially a little bummed to receive so many 100-level classes (I think they’re a bit dull) but it all turned out to be okay. I enjoy all of my classes, and I don’t have a single troublemaker! Also, I’m actually deciding to be a teacher this cycle, and my housemates are amazed at the amount of time I spend lesson-planning. I must admit, last cycle was crummy due to the fact that I was so lazy. Teaching is much more enjoyable now that I know exactly what I’m going to do when I walk into the classroom. Teacher life: If only we got paid for the time we spend working outside the classroom. My respect for (decent) teachers has gone up considerably. I taught my first Saturday class of the cycle yesterday, and it went great. 10 students, adults, kids, and teens, but they work well with each other. It’s a bit hard to make the alphabet and numbers 1-10 exciting, but with some extra prep, it’s possible. It’s nice having students who actually want to learn.

Here in Cuenca, we’re in the rainy season. I wonder what’s going on back home…I suppose everyone’s starting to get spring fever. I love this time of year back home; the first day of Spring when everyone gets free water ice, the opening day of baseball season, the 2-week window when my Dad’s pink bushes in the front yard bloom. They’re so beautiful for those 14 brief days; only to wither and spend the next year on hiatus. Makes you appreciate their exquisiteness even more. That’s what I’m trying to do with my life here in Ecuador. Sure, there are times when I just shake my head, and groan “only in Ecuador.” Yet, every day is an opportunity to learn, grow, experience…to appreciate this phase of my life where I’m developing into my own in so many ways. Maybe I have days where it’s as if I’ve taken a hiatus from life, but there are also those days when I blossom into the young woman I’m becoming.

Therapy with Norm

Just when I want to curl into a ball, hide under a blanket the size of an ocean, and forget about the world, I decide instead to let Norm help me.

He knows how to just listen. I can take all of my frustrations out on him. He takes the brunt of my anger, fear, hopelessness…and in his own quiet way; he’ll challenge me to suck it up. Or pedal faster.

Norm’s my bike, if you haven’t caught on. We’ve gotten very close in the past 6 months. At times he acts like a child, losing a part here, jamming his chain there. Other times, he acts like a close friend, helping me escape when I’m just about up to my neck in problems. He’s my baby, plain and simple. Some people have their cars, or their pets, or a vacuum clean perhaps. I have Norm.

I really needed him today. I’ve hit the half-a-year homesickness checkpoint, and there was a delay in pulling out of the station. This past week, I’ve been bombarded with thoughts and reminders of people back home, mainly, my best friends. Coming from a family that’s not super lovey-dovey, I don’t get many “We miss you! Come back home!” messages. As long as I’m alive and well, that’s sufficient.

Add that to the fact that I hadn’t heard from my best, best friend for almost 2 months, and I was feeling pretty low. In her defense, she says she hadn’t received my messages for some weird reason. I’m telling myself that’s the truth, because I had a good cry this morning, just thinking that most people took the “out of sight, out of mind” approach to my new life in Ecuador.

After a second round of tears today, I turned to Norm. Take me somewhere, anywhere! So I pedaled and pedaled and got lost for a bit, then found my way back home. The stress seeped down from my cranium, through my arms, and down into my burning legs, which just kept going and going and going. Norm loved it; no words needed, just pedal to the metal, and we were off. Fueled by womanpower, we trekked through the ‘burbs of Cuenca, and slowly but surely, my worries and concerns blew away with the breeze brushing against my face.

Okay, so maybe I have a somewhat obsessive relationship with my bike, but it beats shelling out my well-earned dough for some stranger to listen to me weep on their sofa. I bet that sofa wouldn’t even be comfortable. It’d probably be some microfiber aqua-colored get-up that only looks chic but feels like crap. J Look! I’m feeling better enough to crack jokes!

Everyone has their way to deal with problems; A.K.A. life. Some people are perfectly fine sitting on a couch and spilling their guts. Others journal. Some talk to their best buds about it. There are those who turn to their faith for consolation. Personally, I prefer a combination of all of these things.

Nobody said life was easy. I believe life can be great! But great isn’t the same as easy. Everyone faces the highs and the lows. When you’re far away from the people you care most about, it can be disorienting. Yet, in a way, I suppose it’s making me stronger. Anyway, I’ve got a lot to be thankful for; the list keeps growing every day.

You can bet that Norm’s on the list.

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.

Not-So-Crazy Carnaval

     We survived Carnaval. Really, there wasn’t much to fear, because in Cuenca, most people scuttle off to the beach or to the nearby towns, such as Gualaceo or Chordeleg. So Cuenca is almost a ghost-town, with the occasional blast from a water gun or shot of espuma (foam.)

     I was just excited to have a little vacation from classes! Friday through Tuesday, I was free to do as I pleased! It was nice to have a few days where I had no obligations, although on Friday night, I subbed for my friend’s class. It was a nice deal because I only had to do some review and give a Mid-Term exam.

     Most of the long weekend was spent relaxing indoors, to avoid getting attacked by avid Carnaval participants. One day, while riding through the center of town, I got blasted by some kids with espuma; it was actually pretty funny because I was on my bike and caught totally unaware, but it made me laugh. I’d rather have the foam (even if it stained my skin slightly blue) than the water. Cuenca’s up in the Sierra, not on the coast; it’s too cold to be drenching people with water, even though the weather can go into the 70s.

     Apart from Carnaval, I met a nice little girl one day while waiting for some friends. Her name was Camila, an eight-year-old Ecuadorian girl who intrigued and amused me. Not being much of a kid person, I watched her for a few minutes and realized she must have been extremely bored; a little girl sitting out in a plaza with no other kids in sight. This is common in Ecuador; kids don’t have computers or videogames to keep them occupied. Rather, they’re usually meandering along sidewalks outside their homes or their parents’ business, playing with sticks, stones, paper, leaves, whatever. Kids use their imagination to the fullest here, it’s refreshing to see. On the other hand, it can be quite a shock to walk past the very young kids in markets or on street corners while the mothers sell fruits and vegetables. I’ve come to associate Ecuador with stark contrasts…I teach some very privileged, upper-class kids (my 12-year-old student had a Playstation 4 before I even knew it existed,) and I also mingle with the modest Ecuadorians as well, usually dressed in the traditional, indigenous clothing. Anyway, this little girl and I kicked around a soccer ball for about a half-hour, then chit-chatted in Spanish about where I was from and what I'm doing here.

     It’s things like this that make me want to experience life abroad with the people I care about most: my parents, my sister, my best friends. It’s such a bummer to return from an exciting, far-away trip only to realize that nobody back home really cares. And it’s the truth. It’s terribly difficult to appreciate an experience that you yourself haven’t had…personally, I love hearing about people’s excursions to different countries or places I’ve never been to, but I’m one of a handful, I think. Most of the time, people would rather discuss something relevant to everyone, not just that one person who did this, or went there. Maybe they perceive it as showing off or something. I don’t see it that way. I want to learn through others, sometimes that’s the only way to do it. Maybe I’ll never get to Kenya or Tibet (I’d love to,) but hearing about these places through someone who has been there would help me explore them more. Anyway, all of this contemplating has got me now wondering: Who actually reads this blog? How many people are genuinely interested in it? In my adventures and my thoughts? Oh well, if anything, this blog’s a nice writing exercise…