Thoughts from a Truck Bed

There is something magical about riding in the back of a pick up truck. Wherever you are in the world. It's the combination of risky behavior with an odd sense of freedom. The wind that wrestles with your eyelids and tangles your hair also blocks out all other sound. The winds triumph over all other noises forces one to be inside ones head, while the views from the back of the truck are incredible, even through blinking dust threatened eyes. Here I am inside my own head. Happily relaxed with places to be but no schedule. My boarder-line crazy Italian friend drives like a mad man along the Ruta del Sol, his pregnant questionably too young for him wife sits next to him in the cab. They seem happy each fighting with a smile for a word in their hand waving conversation (he is Italian you see). I sit alone in the back with some papayas bigger than 2 year olds, groceries and the wind. As huge dump trucks fly by heading north, my heart skips, it's all part of the unique freedom in the back of a pick up on a windy road in an underdeveloped land.

We pass so much beauty and destruction. The shrimp ponds that destroyed the mangroves, boosted the economy, gave poor people jobs and hope and then swiftly threw everyone rock bottom. We pass dried hills and valleys giving one the sense that a lion, elephant or giraffe should appear in the Ecuadorian desert. Our province, Manabi has the highest deforestation rate in Ecuador due to cattle. Ecuador has the highest deforestation rate in the world. Granted, statistics can be twisted but, the truth keeps rushing by me. The only sign of beauty in these deserted hills are the ceibo trees that curl high above the pasture. The Mayans believed the ceibos were our connection to the spiritual world, still today they are left standing in open pastures. As a science lover I am amazed by their green bark that is capable of doing photosynthesis in the dry season when the ceibo loses its leaves. As a New Englander I am happy to live in a deciduous forest, even if the temperature hardly varies between the wet and dry season. We pass amazing equatorial jungle, huge palms, vines and mystery. We pass poor villages and men selling huge prawns on the side of the road. I embrace this opportunity, to be forced by the wind to observe and ponder.

Because I am still in my head, and not someone else's, my gratefulness of opportunity immediately makes me feel a little guilty. I live in a place of beauty and poverty and the hardest thing for me are the lack of opportunities for women and even the men. But, because I can't help myself and believe that women are the key to development, I focus on the women. Sure a woman here can ride in the back of a truck and feel the wind in her hair, but, she'll never drive one. She can wonder and ponder things in the world, but, the chances are she can't write it down or read another's words. She can walk in the deep jungle gathering wild coffee, vegetable ivory seeds and palm seeds, but, chances are, she'll never own the land. Then, this gets me thinking of how lucky I am to have meet so many different strong women in my lives. If I could just show the young girls in Tabuga that there are women out there like these women... maybe they'd have a little bit of hope. Learn to say no, finish school and not be pregnant at age 14.

I think back to my elementary school teachers and how they tell us in America that we can be whatever we want to be – and we believe them. I think about all my childhood girlfriends and how they are living their dreams... even if those dreams are different that what they'd planned. I think about going to NARAL meetings as a 9 year old, enthralled by the conversations, words like contraception and all of the women there. I think of hearing Hilary Clinton talk in NH when I was about 12. I think of my lacrosse coach at Duke who taught me about commitment and determination while she also raised a family, and all my teammates who showed up everyday and balanced the Duke workload with good good times. I think of my advisor at Duke who was a tiny lady but incredibly intimidating and bright and I can only imagine the things that she has thought of by now. Or the head of the Environmental Science department who smoked cigarettes during our outdoors labs and encouraged me to go to medical school. I think back to my summer at Godard and how I was blessed to work with Ann and Susan, my two female mentors who taught me about science and showed me that you can be a successful scientist, intelligent and still be athletic and raise a family. I think of my female cousins who are both mom's and have been through times that could break someone but they continue to fight for what they want with the love and support of my Aunt. My sister who has taught me that being true to yourself is the most important thing in the world even if it means you might be sad for a bit. The two female US Ambassadors to Ecuador who I have had the pleasure of meeting during my time here who have big hearts even has big serious diplomats. My Peace Corps country director who just arrived here but has worked all over the world in huge leadership positions. The vice-country director who has climbed most ever mountain in Ecuador, continues to move up the ladder and still dresses great. Julieta, the highest ranking female officer EVER in the Ecuadorian national police who protects all of us little Peace Corps kids. All the Ecuadorian women in that office who I have had the pleasure of working with these two years who are working mom's. Sometimes, I can't believe that they grew up in the same country as Tabuga. I think of Geomaira, my best friend in Tabuga who is a young mom, studying in the university, learning English and dreams of opportunities. And, most importantly, my mom. Who is a rock, a constant support to me, my siblings and all the kids who she works with. Her story could bring most to tears while at the same time making them laugh and giving them hope. And finally, all of the men who have supported these kinds of women. Men who believe that women can be smart and men can be idiots. Men that believe in opportunities and respect these women as coworkers, friends and family.

I get to Tabuga and sit down in my little house. If I had more time I am sure this list would go on forever. But, the ride from Pedernales, crossing the equator to Tabuga is only 25 minutes. My 'cousin' comes over as soon as I get home and stands over me as I type. Amazed at the quickness of my fingers and asks me what I am writing. I tell her I am writing about women and how they are the key to a better world (this isn't just me talking either... read about international development and you'll see). My cousin is 18, has two kids, can't read or write and doesn't know the alphabet. She comes over everyday as if I am a soap opera. Her kid has peed on my floor a few times and once the 2 year old cried so hard she threw up on the floor (AJ's presence scared her that bad). When I hang out with Prima, I know that staying here for another year isn't just about me and living in my happy little bamboo hut. It's about the people. The women and children that think I am crazy but look to me for advice, knowledge and support. I hope to be for these women and children what all of the women in my life have been to me.

Hats Off to Life as a PCV!

The following is what I wrote Sunday night, lying in bed listening to the music and the bullfrogs. Pondering my time as a Peace Corps volunteer and feeling grateful for my new job (starting September) as the Project Coordinator for the Ceiba Foundation!

Does it feel like just another Sunday night or does it feel like more? Should it feel like more? Cumbia, the typical music of the area continously played way too loud with a rumbling base flies through the air from my neighbors to my house. I spent the day getting work done at the reserve and teaching English to the youth group. I enjoyed huge prawns that were caught this morning by anonymous in a fisherman town 15 minuted down the road, that I sauted and mixed with veggies in an creamy sauce over pasta. Today was like any good Sunday. Friends of mine, a couple who own the Surf Shack in Canoa, stayed over last night to enjoy a night in the campo away from the crazier life of owning a bar in a touristy beach town. I love playing mom so, homemade carrot cake, spicy Mexican beans, fresh salsa and Jason's tortillas were cooked up in my bamboo hut. This morning we enjoyed coffee and the power being out – no cumbia for miles. I want to say it is just another Sunday, yet, something was nagging at my brain. Then, someone commented that tomorrow is August 10th, a big Ecuadorian holiday (I think it might be the day the new president officially takes office... should look into that). I quickly realize that this Sunday is different because it is my last Sunday in Tabuga as a volunteer. At this time next Sunday I will be heading to Quito. In Quito I will close my Peace Corps chapter, meet with my new Co-worker at the Ceiba office in Quito and finally head to the US of A.

I feel a sense of relief that the end of my Peace Corps service doesn't mean the end of my time in Tabuga. One would think that over two years is enough but, that one hasn't yet lived in Tabuga. There really is something magical about this place. The warmth of the people, the determination of a few that keeps everything going on, the seemingly lazy yet well deserved hammock time, the jungle, the beach, the store that I have credit at, free range chicken, abundance of fruits, the language and even the cumbia. Plus, mixed with all the positives are the difficult things, the poverty, the lack of opportunity, shoeless children, ribs of the dogs, 14 year old mothers and the lack of education. Then are the things that sometimes are a blessing and sometimes annoyances, lack of communication, not a single newspaper to buy in town and one TV in town that receives fuzzy channels. Tabuga has the perfect balance of magic and blunt reality. It keeps you on your toes and keeps you busy.

So, this Sunday is very different than any other Sunday. I feel a content sense of accomplishment yet a nagging to continue working. Serving as a Peace Corps volunteer has surely been the most incredible experience of my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I think the timing is right though for it to be over. For me to get on with life without a manual of rules, strict safety regulations and the comforts of being taken care of by the Peace Corps. To have AJ here by my side and to be here because I love it and I want to be and I have a job I love. The Peace Corps threw me in Tabuga like they do with any volunteer. The best mentality is that it’s not supposed to be easy. Somehow I lucked out and ended up in a small random town that I happily call home. Not everyone has amazing Peace Corps services, some people leave early, a lot stick it through without ever really loving it but everyone I have talked to has honestly said that it was worth the experience and the challenges. I think it's true what they say 'it's the toughest job you'll ever love'.

So hats off to the countdown... one week and I turn in my fancy Peace Corps badge. Here are some pictures of the good times I have been having in the last few months.

Juan Manuel of Fundacion Arena making us delicious pizza!

Two humpback whales swimming less than 2m from our tiny boat!AJ and I on the hills behind Tabuga where you can find coffee, cacao, bananas, monkeys, birds and an awesome view of the ocean!

Teaching Gito how to swim in the Canoa waves

Lizard earring - literally this guy held on hard!

Katie and I at Tabuga beach!

Little brother Alex body surfing in Tabuga

My good friend Maija at the Ecuador v Argentina soccer game!

Jason and I picking coffee in the hills behind Tabuga... who knew that coffee comes hidden in little red berries?

Jason, AJ and I with the newly elected Queen of Tabuga