Friday, August 14, 2009
Thoughts from a Truck Bed
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.
Monday, August 10, 2009
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.

AJ and I on the hills behind Tabuga where you can find coffee, cacao, bananas, monkeys, birds and an awesome view of the ocean!
Jason and I picking coffee in the hills behind Tabuga... who knew that coffee comes hidden in little red berries?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Tabuga - Take Two
While I was in the sierra my host father along with his two brothers built me a house to live in for the remainder of my time as a Volunteer. I left them a rough sketch of a basic floor plan and 3 pounds of nails. I came back to a bamboo dream house, raised up about a meter with a little balcony and a roof made from palm leaves. There is a bedroom, a kitchen kind of area and a living room. The one part of the house that I truly designed was the window between the bedroom and the living room where I have placed my DVD player and TV. That way it rotates between the bed and the living room area where kids can often be found coloring and requesting cartoon movies like my current favorite – Kung Fu Panda. The house has the energy of a tree house mixed with modernity.
One of the high lights from these last few months was Alex and Katie's visit. It was so fun to have Alex here again and to show Katie where I have been living the last two years. For those of you who don't know Katie she is like family and has grown up with us as my little sister and my brother's best friend. She recently spent a semester abroad in Spain. It was really amazing that Alex, Katie and I all now speak Spanish and were hanging out in Tabuga together. Alex's return to Tabuga was hugely anticipated by our neighbors and to honor his return we had a big grill out at my house. His god daughter's mother and some other neighbors helped us cook, his god daughter brought over music and we had all the little neighborhood kids and random people jamming out and eating delicious mixed rice and fish on the grill. Besides a short trip to Canoa and time in Quito we really just relaxed and hung out in Tabuga, walked in the reserve and hung out at the private Tabuga beach. I and our neighbors were really touched that Alex returned to Tabuga and all of the teenagers fell in love with Katie.

The two main reasons for my extension as Volunteer are to build a green house with the high school and create a smooth transition for the Health Volunteer that will be replacing me. The green house is crawling a long which is normal here. The big hold up right now is getting the bamboo for the structure. The bamboo exists, it's been designated as Tabuga High School green house bamboo but, unfortunately, the phase of the moon isn't yet right to cut the bamboo. So, we must be patient.
The new volunteer comes to Tabuga next week for a visit. The visit is to prepare the volunteer for their next two years by introducing them to community contacts, possible collaborators and more than anything, to get them over that initial shock of looking at a new place and telling yourself – I am going to live here for two years.
My final date of service is August 18th, 2009. That date is approaching ever too quickly and Tabuga – take two has been incredibly fun. Now that I don't teach classes in the school I have had time to do things in the community that I wanted to do, work at the EcoCenter and mainly at my own house. AJ and I built a composting toilet along with Paul, Jason, Max and help from the neighbors as well as a shower with a fun little mosaic. Both our shower and our kitchen sink drain into banana circles. Banana circles are a way to filter and use waste water that contains shampoos and soaps but not heavy cleaning products. All of the water along with agricultural organic waste go into the middle of the circle and four banana trees are planted around them. As the organic waste decomposes it releases nutrients into the soil with the waste water and the banana trees happily soak it up producing lush fruits. This is a classic permaculture design and way too easy not to do here in the tropics. The next step is the garden that we are starting this week.
But wait... why would anyone start a garden when they only have a month left in a place. That seems silly, illogical, crazy even.
Another big highlight came into our lives while Alex and Katie were visiting. His name is Gito and he is a smart, playful mutt that AJ and I have since adopted as our own. His name came from the term Gringito. My house is known as the Casa de Gringos and when we arrived with a brand new WHITE puppy, the little neighbors started calling him gringito. So, Gito stuck and he stuck with us.
Before I forget, there was another huge highlight. When my brother came down to Ecuador this second time he brought 30 children´s books in Spanish that my mom had sent down with him. I went to the Tabuga School and donated these books and the children immediately took to them and started to read them. Even the teachers were enchanted by the playful words of some amazing stories like THE BFG and THE TWITS. Books are such an amazing gift to give and the kids in Tabuga have yet again been blessed by kindness. I think one of the most beautiful parts of my service has been the exchange between the Beaver Meadow kids and Tabuga and I hope that we continue these efforts. The lack of resources provided to kids at school is really sad and the best we can do is help out little by little.

I am assuming Tabuga – take three will be even more interesting as I wont be living under Peace Corps strict rules and regulations and will have not only my best buddy Jason here with me but my bamboo dream house live in boyfriend here too.
Check out AJ's blog for some awesome pictures of everything that has been happening the last few months.
http://www.ecuawindow.blogspot.com/
Monday, June 1, 2009
Tabuga Life!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Crater is the Climax
After 6.5 months apart AJ arrived to Quito in the middle of the day last Monday. It was just as exciting and nerve-racking as anticipated. More than anything it was refreshing to see how handsome he is without a crazy leprechaun beard and una-bomber shaved head.
I had spent the previous week, my first back in Tabuga, working from the moment I got here. Joe and Catherine from the Ceiba Foundation were here on the coast and when they are around things happen. I arrived to site on a Friday and went straight to the reserve. 5 University of Wisconsin students were working on their final projects for the semester abroad in Ecuador. I ended up helping out on some really nice projects and exhibits for the Eco-Center – which as you may recall was my little baby since its inauguration in June, 2008. We collected a bunch of plants for our botanical garden and had some really great meetings to plan the work plan for the reserve which included my role for the next 4 months. Time with Joe and Catherine always include fun stuff too! I went to Catherine's birthday party on the beach – her third birthday since I've been in Tabuga. We also went up to their new land and drank some wine before heading to Punta Prieta for an amazing dinner. Akul (now a returned-PCV) and Gina had stopped through Tabuga and were here to hang out. It was great to introduce them to my counterparts and show them Punta Prieta. P. Prieta is a series of guest houses on a point overlooking the beach. The owner is an artist from Quito. Prieta literally means dark and the place sits on the only point in northern Manabi where you can build because normally the cliffs are to soft and crumbly. We had delicious prawns for dinner with wine and before heading home hung out at the bar watching the waves crash into the beach below.
My buddy Jason is living in my old room so I spent the week back in my old room staying with him. It's amazing how my experience here has made sharing a small space, towel and bed with a friend seem normal (we can all reflect back on my brother's extended stay!). My host dad built me a house in Tabuga. It's a traditional bamboo house with palm leaf roof. It's beautiful. I bought nails, some plastic and a kitchen sink... total about $70. He used wood he had laying around from his old house for the frame and the floor. The bamboo was from his land and from his family's land, same with the palm leaves. My dad and his two brothers worked on the house little by little while I was living in the Sierra. To be honest, I didn't believe it would be finished by the time I got back to Tabuga. But here I am... in my perfect, full of good energy 'tree house'. My host mom cried as I slowly moved my things from the old room to the new house. This seemed silly considering I am literally 500 ft from the old house.. but she feels like I am here daughter, growing up and moving out. As silly as it is, it is really touching.
I spent the weekend 'installing' electricity and water and getting the house approved by the Peace Corps.

Then with Jason, Akul and Gina I blessed the house in the traditional Bolivian style. I agressively broke a bottle of Caña Manabita... a local pure sugar cane alcohol.
Then I headed on an over night bus to Quito. Then AJ was here. I hadn't had time to process the previous week or the fact that AJ was about to be here but, I think this was better. We spent the next two days catching up on 6+ months apart and meet a bunch of my friends in Quito. Then we headed to Latacunga...My PCV friend John lives in Latacunga and came in right after me as a Youth and Families volunteer. He is a hoot, great person and was our connection to the agency we used for our expedition. We went to the office Wednesday evening to confirm our trip and get fitted to boots and gear. For just $150 the agency provides all necessary gear (including ice ax and crampons), e-snacks, e-sleeping bag, back pack, transportation and a guide. Jason, AJ, John and I made a dank carbo-loaded pasta dinner and went to bed early. The next morning Jason, AJ and I headed to the agency at 10 am to gear up for our trip. An Italian lady, Michaela, joined our group because the agency said it's better to have two tourists per guide. From here we drove up the Panamerican to the entrance of Cotopaxi. The mountain was completely covered by clouds which I found refreshing because the volcano is dominate and intimidating. AJ had posted a picture of the volcano on his blog the day before and upon seeing it both Jason and I came close to fainting.

The access road through Parque Nacional Cotopaxi winds through a horrid example of environmental destruction in Ecuador – a pine tree plantation that has replaced the lush, water retaining paramo of the sierra. Then the road passes through a beautiful shallow lake and turns up towards the volcano or the beast. A sliver of the glacier exposed itself during the drive up and I went crazy taking pictures because I knew Cotopaxi can often be too foggy and cloud covered to get good pictures. I thought a lot about the Geology course I took at Duke my senior year that included a trip to Yellowstone and a day digging up fossils in Wyoming. I bet my professor would be psyched to see the exposed layers of rock during the drive. The volcanic rocks layered between ash falls of the past. Cotopaxi is the second tallest active volcano in the world at a little under 20,000 feet. It is predicted to erupt again sometime in 2017...ish. As we passed all the chunks of rock I wished that I had retained more from that course.
From the parking lot it is another 1.5 hour walk up loose volcanic rock to the base camp that rests under the volcano at 15,000 feet. The guides, Diego and Joaquin, mentioned that this would be like a little test to see how well we could handle the altitude. Diego kept having to tell me to slow down, he threatened me with ideas of massive headaches and vomiting. I slowed the best I could but from the first trek on, I found that one of the hardest things for me is to keep the slow pace. AJ raced up in front of us. His winter in the high mountains of Alma, CO and his crazing running in the freezing cold had totally prepared him for this adventure. I think my time living in Cayambe during training prepared me enough to feel good and Jason, he's just a trooper. He has never lived above sea level except for during our PC training in February, 2007. We were feeling good up at the lodge. I definitely got chills when the summit of Cotopaxi exposed itself in the late afternoon, looming above us, shining in the low light right at dusk.

After practicing how to fall properly with the ice ax so that it holds you to the mountain and not impales you we had a carbo-loaded dinner and headed to bed around 6pm. I seemed to be the only person that got any sleep. Michaela, our Italian companion, had a head ache and I believe AJ claimed he and Jason slept 23 minutes combined*. The plan was for Jason, Michaela and I to head out at midnight with Joaquin. AJ was to head out at 1 am with Diego. This was based on AJ's run up the mountain on the earlier part of the trip and the assumption that they would eventually catch up to us. At 11pm I lay awake listening to the winds whipping around the building. I imagined a clear sky wiped clean by the clouds and I shivered with fear of the wind. But, I was ready to go. Jason, AJ and I were awake, stealing e-snacks and tea and ready to tackle the mountain. Then, the guides informed us that the wind was too strong, change of plans. We'd all be leaving at 1am together. This proved to be problematic for Jason.
The guides put out a nice breakfast but I had no appetite. It was like eating too close to game time. I simply craved a Rice Krispie treat like the good old days of CHS lax. After were all bundled up with multiple layers and equipment I had never used we began the first 30 minutes stretch of the climb. This was in loose volcanic gravel stuff that was like walking in sand uphill. This took us to the edge of the glacier where we put on our crampons and were to get harnessed together. The new plan was that Diego would go with AJ and I and Joaquin with Jason and Michaela. We would all walk together for the first two hours and see if changes needed to be made. Example: I can't keep up with AJ and need to switch with Jason, or Michaela needed to turn around and the three of us can continue. Well, AJ's crampons were f-ed and Jason and Michaela took off with Joaquin ahead of us. It was a good 5 minutes before AJ was ready to head up the glacier. With Diego in the lead, me in the middle and AJ bringing up the rear we quickly started zig-zagging up the mountain. We were the last group to leave and the mountain ahead of us was scattered with polka dots from the head lamps of the groups ahead. Behind us the night lights of Quito created a stream of yellow making Quito seem just a jump off the mountain away.

We passed Jason and Michaela promptly and continued up the mountain. At one point Diego turned to me and confidently stated that he wanted to pass all of the other groups. This seemed way too ambitious but I was in no position to complain because I could barely mutter a word, I was more concerned with basics like breathing and taking my next step. Diego seemed to interpret this as confirmation that we wanted to pass everyone else on the mountain and the zig-zagging ceased. It was all straight uphill after that. Walking on 30-60 degree inclines. Often having to take weird side ways steps up to prevent falling. I have never been so grateful of crampons and an ice ax.
After three hours of walking we finally took a water break. The sky was incredibly clear and the moon and stars seemed to be happily guiding our struggle upward. I asked Diego how much time was left. He said 5 hours. I almost cried and was tempted to give up. Five more hours of this monotonous struggle? Then for what? That would put us at about 9 am I estimated in my head. At 9 am it is the rule of the mountain that the guides turn around. The sun makes the snow too soft and avalanches are highly likely. Just the week before there had been an avalanche. No one was hurt but we passed the site on the way up... it didn't look like anything I wanted to be stuck in. Ice boulders, heavy snow and hanging icicles are not something I want to fight with.
After a two minute break we kept heading up the mountain. Just two minutes seemed unfair when the break started but after two minutes I had to move, I was starting to freeze. I could feel my sweat underneath all my layers crystallizing... scary! At this point we had passed all of the other groups except the one solo climber who left an hour before us and has a ton of mountaineering experience. So, we kept moving, in the dark... little by little.
After another hour and a half I started to feel really light-headed but I didn't have a headache. I realized that I had been hiking for 4+ hours with only a few bites of yogurt in my stomach. I needed an e-snack. I needed energy. AJ recalls seeing me stumbling, looking weak. The rope between us wavered a lot between loose and too taught. Interestingly, I could distinguish this feeling from altitude sickness. I simply needed food. I yelled to Diego. He quickly shot me down. Not here, in another 2 minutes we can stop. If I had energy I probably would have yelled profanities at the man but I just kept truckin along... I really didn't want to stop on top of a crevasse anyway. After some water and a few bites of chocolate that feeling of cold started to wash over me and I had to keep going. AJ's crampons need more adjusting and then we keep going. At this point a crazy adrenaline rush washed over me. I was pumped. The sun started to peak over the mountain. We were climbing up the western side of the volcano. The sun continued to rise slowly. I keep truckin along. Then in a rush of emotion, I made the group stop and look to our right. The sun was casting a perfect triangular shadow of Cotopaxi on the clouds and mountains below us. A crazy rush of head-over-heels emotion rushed over me. My adrenaline pumped and I felt like a million bucks. AJ was struggling behind me. I was eagerly telling him to take a picture. He was refusing. His crampons were slipping, he felt like he was in danger. I pressured him. He took the picture. He even says it was worth it now.

Once the sun was up the majestic surroundings kept us focused on the peak ahead of us. There was one sketchy 30 ft climb where Diego had to belay us and then about 15 more minutes of walking. We went over a small hump and upon descending were struck by the view of the crater.
From the top we could see a number of other volcanoes around us. Including Chimborazo, the highest volcano in Ecuador, Cayambe the volcano that I was living near during training and Antisana, the volcano that sits at the entrance to the Amazon. Below us the clouds hung like ocean waves at the base of the numerous volcanoes. It was breath-taking and beautiful. Honestly, I admit, with an embarrassed grin, I cried. The physical test that AJ and I had overcome, the rewarding feeling of success combined with the incredible view and mixed with exhaustion overwhelmed me. I shed a single tear. I was overcome. 


We got to stay at the summit for 15 or so minutes which is rare because usually the conditions aren´t permitting. AJ, Diego and I were all feeling quite proud. The climb that takes most tourists 8 hours took us only 6 and we were the last group to start the climb. The only person that beat us up the mountain was that one solo climber with personal guide.
WoW! I know this is long. But, it was really the hardest and yet most spectacular thing I have ever done. The physical struggle mixed with the visual and emotional rewards make this experience so unique. Plus, after two years in this beautiful country it´s awesome to still feel impressed and blown away but the natural beauty and diversity. From beach to jungle to glacier capped volcanoes.
To emphasize this point even more, Jason, AJ and I decided to go head on into partying and getting back to the coast. This included riding around Quito in an open air party bus with a band on top to celebrate the end of the semester abroad with the Wisconsin students, taking a bus that left at 4 am to Tabuga, celebrating our friend Pete´s birthday and finally, ending up in Tabuga. To my new bamboo and palm leaf house, built for me by my Ecuadorian family and now happily shared with AJ.

* See www.Ecuawindow.blogspot.com for confirmation
Monday, March 16, 2009
Born to Capacitar
Capacitar is to train or give capacity to in Spanish and an example of a word that seems like it should be a cognate but really isn’t. Often, you will here volunteers says: We had a capacitation, or I was capacitating. It sounds possibly violent but really just means to train or training. I use it in the title because I absolutely love training. I love sharing what I know with others and motivating them to love everything too!
The Natural Resource Conservation Training Team
Two weeks of pre-service training have flown by.
At the training center the trainees receive all of their technical, health and safety sessions. The language and cultural components of training take place within the training communities. We currently have trainees in groups of 4 or 5 in 10 communities around Cayambe. The trainees were divided up based on their language skills and spend 2 – 3 days a week in language/culture classes with their language facilitator. It’s so fun to talk to the trainees and help them deal with this experience and remember back to my days in Paquiestancia, my training community. It’s especially fun because Mo and I were both in Paquiestancia and we reminisce about the days when I would ask Mo to talk for me. Her Spanish was so much better than mine and even I would be timid sometimes. Now, they can’t shut me up!
The nice thing about being out of the city again is the easy access to nature. Last weekend Mo and I walked for 2.5 hours up hills and around to another town called Olmedo. We could see the farm and greenhouse spotted valley below us and Volcan Cayambe loomed above the mountains. We passed fields of wheat, cows, old indigenous ladies and little kids. It was so beautiful. Then yesterday we spent the day walking through the fields around Ayora and playing Frisbee.
This Saturday all the language facilitators took their groups of trainees to various cultural spots near Cayambe. Mo, Jay, Susan and I all accompanied a group on their trip. I had the chance to go up to Ibarra. I actually have spent a good amount of time in Ibarra but have only gone to party and hang out. For example, I went there for the superbowl, caranval and a friend’s going away party. I jumped at the opportunity to go to Ibarra as more of a tourist. Ibarra is an awesome city, it’s clean and pretty and tranquil. Turns out it also has some Inca ruins and a cool museum for the Caranqui people, the ancient culture that occupied the Northern part of the sierra before the Incas conquered them. There is a beautiful lake nearby called Yaguarcacha, which stands for blood lake in Quichiwa (aka Kichwa, Quichwa). It is apparently the site of the battle between the Caranqui people and the Incas. The Incas were victorious and beheaded their enemies, leaving their bodies in the lake which consequently turned a deep red, hence the name.
Some Inca Ruins - Not that impressive but the histroy sure is...
The cultural trip started with a visit to the museum and unremarkable Inca ruins (90% were destroyed so only a small part of a rock wall has been excavated, Archeologists were actually at the site when we visited). Afterwards we jumped on a city bus and headed into the hills surrounding Ibarra. The scenery quickly changed from paved roads and city buildings to the campo. Roberto, a currently Youth and Families volunteer that lives in Ibarra and is awesome set up a lunch for the trainees at a woman’s home. We got to the small dwelling and waited for lunch to be served. I made friends with the little kids and was happily enjoying being back the campo.
Sebastion wandering around with a machete, little boy guitar playing and kids in trees....
Then, Roberto told me that one of the little kids had fallen and was in bed crying. I went into the empty home and kneeled down by the bed. The little kid was miserable and his right arm was swollen. A little 3 month old baby was pantless beside him, baby sounds squeeked out of the little one and seemed to comfort the older brother. He held the baby girls hand when I squatted down . I talked quietly to the kid and started to calm him down. The boy´s grandmother sat beside the boy. She couldn’t speak and artfully acted out the fall the boy had taken. The grandmother only spoke Quichiwa before she lost her ability to really speak at all according to Pamela, the older sister of the boy. The grandmother didn´t understand my Spanish so we communicated non-verbally. Then, once she understood the old grandmother left and came in with a little tin of menthol. The boy screamed that he didn´t want the older woman to touch him. She handed me the menthol and shyly she sat by me as I messaged the swollen arm. I had taken her role a bit and at first felt awkward with the older woman peering over me, she seemed to approve though and lovingly comforted the boy. The mother showed up with a stained old ace bandage that I used to lightly wrap the boys arm. I wiped away his tears and kissed his forehead. I whispered that he was fine. The boy remained really calm and even devoured an ear of corn. The mother urged me to eat and shoed me over to the trainees. The trainees were enthusiastically chowing down on guinea pig, potatoes and corn.
Delicious Cuye (guinea pig!)
It was really a cultural experience for the trainees and for me. After serving my whole time on the coast I hadn´t had many highland small town experiences apart from training. The communal style of eating was really special and the guinea pig was delicious. A bucket of juice was passed around with one cup. We all happily ate with our hands and tossed potatoes around the circle. Afterwards we thanked the women who prepared the food and danced around to the highland music.
I found myself with the little kids again, taking pictures, throwing them in the air and climbing a tree. The most outgoing of the group, Justin probably age 3, really took aliking to me and begged me not to leave, to stay and play. We took a picture together and then he offered me his bird stuffed animal as a token of rememberance. The language facilitator Pablo was in aw of the situation pointing out “The poor always seem so willing to share what little they have, while the richest guard their belongings behind gates and alarms”. I never knew Pablo to be a philosopher but the moment was the kind that could move anyone to think beyond the material world. The stuffed animal, named appropriately Justin, rests happily on my nightstand next to many other important tokens of rememberance.
Me and Justin... before the bird stuffed animal token of remembering exchange
After a short bus ride we were plopped back in the city. We ate the traditional ice cream of Ibarra known as Helado de Paila. The cream is placed in a copper dish that rests on salted ice on top of hay. The ice cream is churned by hand using a big wooden spoon and the result is delicious. We all relaxed in the shade of a big tree in one of the many manicured parks in Ibarra, enjoying our icecream.But, the adventure wasn’t quite over.
Before boarding the bus, the facilitators took us to watch Pelota Nacional or National Ball. Apparently Pelota Nacional is the official sport of Ecuador, yet, I had gone two years without ever seeing it played. We suspiciously wandered out of the main part of the city and found the Pelota Nacional fields. A group of old men, smoking cigarettes and gossiping were watching the sport. At first appearance the sport seems silly.
The two teams stand on opposite sides of a long and skinny dirt field. The players have these big paddles that have heavy foam cones on them. The object of the game is to hit the heavy rubber ball back and forth, allowing just one bounce. The team that wins slowly moves down the field for a certain distance to win the set. Sides are switched, like in Tennis and the game continues. Apparently a game can last hours. The old men explained the rules and claimed that women dont play because it is too brutal. I doubted the brutality of the sport and pointed out that two of the men on the field were even smoking cigarettes. The old men dared me to give it a try and explained that the brutness of the sport comes from the difficulty to manage the heavy paddles. The next thing we all knew, Kevin, the other language facilitator had a bunch of paddles and one of the heavy rubber balls. The men sent us to the middle court, in front of everyone and watched as we struggled.
I consider myself pretty athletic and at first swing found myself spinning in a full circle from the weight of the paddle, I wiffed horribly. The trainees tried, they also wiffed horribly. Little by little we started to make contact with the ball; I think we even completed two volleys, back and forth. We walked away from the court with big smiles and sore wrists. Apparently on April 28th, there is a huge tournament during the fiestas of Ibarra and I am determined to spend the day with the oldies, shouting at the players and smoking cigars. We”ll see. 
On the way home I got off in Otavalo to get dinner and some beers with Jay and Mo. We sat outside and watched as the men carried huge loads of textiles on their backs to storage until the following weekend. Otavalo has the biggest market in all of S. America and is known for the bright textiles, sweaters, hammocks, blankets and more. We wondered if the men would accept a hand cart in place of the forehead straps that we customary. Mo asked me why it seemed that I always had the best day of my life no matter what I do and I responded “It´s because I just jump right in a love it”. The strategy has proven to work for two years and I am doing by best to capacitar the trainees to do the same.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Welcome Omnibus 101
You can see them and there is our Country Director waiting for them too!Last but not least!
Excited boys with lots of baggage!
The meet and greet team - smiling faces!






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