Country Girl in A BIG City

It’s been three weeks since I made the big move away from Tabuga, my family, my tranquil lifestyle and my work to come to the capital. Like many young Ecuadorians, migration to the city means a better job, more fun night life, better food options, freedom and an overall eye opening experience. Some economists and development theorists claim that migration to the city by the young able population is the only way for a national economy to start the climb out of poverty. Others claim that anti-sweat shop campaigns are ruining economic chances of success in third world countries. On the other hand, others claim that international development needs to focus on supplying small farmers with simple technology and creating self-sufficient communities. My theory, as a person without any formal education in the matter but who is attempting to live the experience is “it’s not that simple”. All the theories seem to stem from some reality and my experience tells me that both have their personal, familial and community benefits. Often, immigrants to the US suffer greatly but send money to their families in their home countries. This in turns buy books and clothes for their siblings, an oven for the mother and in some cases land. It’s the same with the migration to the cities. Often the people are living in poor conditions in the country and then move to a different kind of poor conditions in the city. But, the benefits of the city include having a job and making money, buying a cell phone, dancing at clubs and being able to send money home to the family. Money home to thee family puts money in the local market and can be used to buy small machines to better small farm agriculture. Unfortunately, the big move is at the expense of having your family. For many Americans this doesn’t shock us and I am one of those. The majority of us grow up eager for the high school graduation and the big move to college or to the working world. We crave freedom and space. We love our parents, we do our best to keep in touch but the world post-18 is ours. Like my favorite t-shirt “My world, our planet”. I am determined to do good for the planet but I live in my world. Although this t-shirt continues to ring in my cerebrum, my feelings towards family, sweat shops and development have changed. I miss my family and friends in Tabuga. I miss the monkeys in the forest and the frogs at night that sound like children yelping in glee during a game of marco-polo. But, I am enjoying the city, the developed world. There are fabulous salsa clubs, good restaurants that serve more than just rice with a fried small bone filled fish and I have friends. Friends that want to talk politics while smoking a hooka and watch Duke basketball games over beers.

One of the things I am enjoying the most about Quito is my work in the Peace Corps office. I have clear tasks with deadlines. I focus, work hard, complete the task, present it to my superior, he says good job and I move on. After almost two years of service on the Manabí coast, I love having clear defined work plans, deadlines and positive reinforcement. The previous two years I was my own boss, set my own deadlines that often never were met, taught classes to high school kids who don’t know simple multiplication tables and said to myself in the mirror a number of times good job. It’s also nice to work in a team. My fellow co-trainer Susan and I had completely different Peace Corps experiences and different personalities and work together like nuts and bolts or peanut butter and jelly. Our tasks are all geared toward planning an effective intense 8 week training to prepare 24 Americans to be superb volunteers.

The newbies arrive February 25th eager, anxious, scared and excited. My senior year of lacrosse as an undergraduate assistant coach on crutches and Percocet is definitely going to come in handy. Like I love CHS, Duke lax and NH, I love the Peace Corps and I am so excited to promote it, share it and help train people who in turn, will hopefully love it and rock it.