Justin Bieber seriously injured while not playing Beach Rugby

December 11-12, 2010

Sometimes in life, hard work goes unnoticed and worse, unappreciated. This weekend, that was
not the case.

We left around 11pm-ish Friday night to head to Manta for the Beach Rugby Tournament. Half of the bus belonged to us and the other half belonged to the other Cuenca rugby team. Like always, I slept for most of the ride.

Around 7 am at our hostel with a beach front view! Awesome! The weather was a little overcast and the heat of the day had not yet arrived.

While everyone got settled in I went in search of some fruit for snacks in between games. Like most things here, it turned into an adventure.. One of the Christians on the team joined me for the walk. The streets were pretty empty of cars and traffic which is not too strange for a Saturday morning. We followed the directions of walking 6 blocks and turning left away from the beach. When we did so, I found were all the people in Manta were.
The streets were lined with tent and other type of temporary store fronts selling everything. The scene reminded me a lot of the Italian market in Philadelphia but with wayyyyyy more people and cars and bicycle venders. Of course not expecting to find this treasure I did not have my camera. Within seconds we found a banana vender and then a orange vender. The orange vender tried to give us his worst oranges but we were having none of that and made him empty the bag he had filled and start over. In total I was nearly run over 6 times and most near misses were from bicyclists.

Around 10 am we all piled back into the bus to head to Tarqui beach where the tournament was being held.

The brackets were decided and one of the teams in our bracket was the Quito team that won the 7’s tournament this past weekend. It was not going to be an easy road if we were to win.
The first game we played was a bit lopsided in our favor. The next two games were barely won, by a margin of 4 points in one game and against the Quito team we won by 2.
We were all ecstatic to make it to the finals which happen the next day!




Before heading back to the hostal for some much needed food, we all went for a swim in the ocean. The water was a perfect temperature and there were some good waves. We even got to see some surfers in action.

My night was spent hanging out with some other PCVs who were in town for the weekend. We ate seafood at a beach shack and later sipped some beers on the beach.
Sunday…
The team was all warmed up and ready to go. Their energy and focus was clear, they had to win.

The Nomads are a much taller team, each one of their players had a good few inches on the players on my team. They also have a few foreigners on their team (French, English and American) who grew up with rugby.

The Nomads were the first score but they missed point after. Shortly after the Aguila’s answered back and made the extra points. 7-5
Late in the last half with the score tied 12-12 one of my players was sent to the sin bin for “being too rough” for two minutes with only a minute left. This was not good. The

Aguilas were visibly tired but needed to hang on for just another minute.
Sure enough they held out! There was some confusion on how to play out the game out. Most people wanted to do overtime/sudden death. However, the rule book states that each player on each team (only using the players that were last on the field) will have the opportunity to kick an extra point. The team who makes more of these kicks wins. Basically a hockey style shoot out. This was a surprise to everyone. But I had confidence because our best kickers were out on the field. But it was going to be tough due to the rather fast crossing wind.

The Nomads were up first and their kick was off. Christian V, was up for the Aguilas and his kick was good. The Nomads answered back with a good kick. Our next kicker missed and so did the Nomads’. Then Juan barely squeezed one through the uprights making it 2-1. The Nomads’ next kicker made it, shit, 2-2. It all came down to our last kicker Christian C. If he made this, the Aguilas would be champions. If he missed it, well, no one was really sure what would happen.

He lined up for the kick and struck the ball well sending the sand under the ball in the air. End of end the ball split the uprights. I could not believe. Christian fell to his knees and the Aguilas rushed to join him in celebration! Camera men were everywhere snapping shots, this was the moment the Aguilas had been training so hard for and it was finally here.

As each one of them received their gold Ecuadorian Olympic medal, I could see the pride in each one of their eyes.




These days, I will never forget.

December 4th, 2010
We packed the 24 passenger bus full to capacity with people and rugby gear. The excitement was evident despite it being 11pm and a 7 hour bus ride waiting for us in the near future. This was my first game with the Aguilas Rugby Club of the University of Azuay.
We finally arrived at the field in Quito at 10:30 am ready to go! Rugby is usually played with 15 people on a side; however this was a 7’s tournament. Most teams entered two teams in the tournament and so did we.

I was very nervous because this was my first game ever as a coach. The guys on the team had put in a lot of work over the last few months and I wanted it to show on the field. Sure enough it did, the first team we played suffered a 29-0 loss at the hands of the Aguilas. The rest of the day had its wins and losses for our team. Overall the Aguilas took third place which is really good! The team has only been around two years; where as some of the other teams have players who have played their whole lives.

I was proud of the guys and how they played. But I was even more proud when one of the referees came up and asked if we played a lot of 7’s. I told him we did a lot of work to prepare for this tournament and they have worked very hard. He told me the hard work showed and that the team looked much better than when he last saw them play a year ago. I felt like a proud father.



The Aguilas were happy with the day as they should have been, but it was clear that they want to win it next year!
This coming weekend we are off to Manta for a 5’s tournament on the beach. Should be interesting, because I have never seen rugby played on the sand before! Some other PCVs are coming down for the weekend as well.

Sunday December 5th, 2010
I had to leave Quito the night before to arrive in Baños in time for the inauguration of the Home for the Elderly "Dr. Luis Yunga." Brad Mattan, the previous PCV in Baños helped secure a grant which provided significant funding to this home.
The event had a large attendance and the Bishop Luis Gerardo Cabrera Herrera was there as well. Several moving speeches were given and the elderly even prepared a dance routine. The ceremony was concluded with the cementing of a cross and two doves to the top of building. I took about 200 some pictures but do to time restraints and internet connection (and your time) I have only included the top few.






Monday December 6th, 2010
Today was my first day of giving my nutrition charla to elementary school kids. The school is in the same area where Isabel has her plot of land, Nero. Don Iban was nice enough to give me a ride out to the school. He insisted that I do not wear my seatbelt. We will not need those since we are not driving in the city.
I sighed and accepted the fact that I would never feel safe in an automobile here.
We arrived at the school and I must say it was very nice. I hadn’t set my hopes to high though, because it is in an impoverished area. I spoke with the head master and he gave me a quick tour of the grounds. I was to begin with the first grade glass.
I am very happy the markers were washable. The kids had a blast drawing vegetables, fruit and what healthy person looks like. They also had a lot of fun drawing on me and my clothes.
It was interesting to see the dynamics of the class, the boys were all very involved and the girls were very shy. Some spent the entire hour just staring at the marker and paper. No matter how much I tried they would not draw anything.
The second grade class had a lot fewer kids, but was much harder to handle. They were much happier running around punching each other and drawing shapes on their faces. Some even ran out of the classroom. I had officially lost control of the class after about 5 minutes. So

I decided to try a new teaching method. No more mister nice guy. You will draw fruits and vegetables and like it! Well. I was not that harsh, but I definitely showed signs of agitation and they could sense it.
They finally listened to the frustrated gringo and sat down. Then they had some fun drawing and writing their names after awhile.

It is amazing what a one year difference can have.

Since there is no real bus system I had to hitch a ride back to Baños in a camioneta (truck). The unfortunate thing with hitching a ride is you never get exactly where you want to go. At the end of the ride I still had a good 2 mile walk.

I enjoyed it

Captain Jack and his crew

Thanksgiving; hold the turkey
None of us had ever cooked mashed potatoes or stuffing from scratch before, but we tried it anyways. I must say, for not having a turkey, we had a pretty damn good meal. Cheese and crackers were the appetizers. Somehow guacamole made the list too (I think Julie had avocados that were going to go bad). Glazed pork roast was the protein of the meal and in my opinion was a much better and less drowsy alternative to turkey. I did not bring my camera, but I will try and get photos from others in attendance
(My neighbors have Christmas lights up, tis' the season)
Sometimes you meet people and you think to yourself “wow, that person was really nice.” And other times you meet people that make you go “holy shit, you are one fucked up person and I am definitely going to write this shit down because you sir are ridiculous.”
(Inca Lounge)

At the local watering hole I met an interesting character while waiting for friends to arrive. Now, I should probably change his name for the sake of the following information. And his name shall be, Sanders. Sanders is in his mid forty’s, divorced and has a daughter. Now, none of this really stood out, quite common in the US. It was not until he told me how he made his living for some time that I realized the can off warms that was opening before me. Now, the order of this was never entirely clear, but here goes.
He cooked and did meth in Mississippi for several years, while married to his wife of some years who had no idea about her man’s occupation. One night, apparently she got to be quite the bother. So he slipped a big old rock of meth in her coca-cola to shut her up. Sure enough she got a little freaked out and cleaned the whole house. She never found out what compelled her to do that. However, he did say he regretted it, but it was funny.
The time line got a little hard to follow after that. It was a little bit difficult to process what this complete stranger had just divulged to me.
Sanders managed to obtain a medical marijuana growing permit in Montana. Perfect candidate in the government’s eyes I guess. So that went well for awhile, growing, but he had some bills to pay. So he decided to screw selling it legally and just started dealing on the side.
And at this point I started to realize we were, in fact, actually having this conversation. Luckily my phone rang and I was able to leave the conversation and the bar. My friends were not able to make it so I hopped a bus home to process what just what happened.
During the course of the whole conversation, I also spoke with the bar owner, Mike. He is in the process of revamping a finca (farm) into a nice little country retreat for tourists. He invited me and a friend out to check the farm the next day.
Around 1pm my friend Jamie and I met up with Mike and a few of his employees to head out to the finca. We were introduced to a man I will refer to as, Captain Jack. He was an army sergeant back in the day and was in the Vietnam War. He drives a 1983 Chevrolet Jeep, not a car, he corrected me on this. He liked to brag about how it is comparable to any modern day pickup and how it could haul anything, if not more than anything than a pickup truck. I decided to keep my mouth shut and not say “I don’t think you could fit a dirt bike in here.”
(cool bug we found before heading to the Finca)

(Captain Jack)

So Jamie, Rachel, myself and Captain Jack got into his jeep to follow Mike in the other truck. Within minutes we lost the other car and Captain Jack started calling Mike for directions every few minutes. Captain Jack has lived, worked here and driven here for 14 years; you would think he would know how to get to the only national park within 15 kilometers of Cuenca. Now what was even more frustrating is he would not listen when we would say hey, Cajas is just down that road. “No, Mike said he lived on the backside of Cajas and this is how you get there.” He said several times. Mike never said that.
Meanwhile, Rachel has BEEN to the Finca twice and he ignored her polite direction suggestions. After about the fifth or so phone call (while driving a manual) we could hear Mike on the phone saying I exactly where the Finca is and Captain Jack was quick to scold Mike on not knowing how to give directions. The rest of us in the car could not help but crack smiles and shoot glances at each other trying not to break out in laughter.
We finally arrived at the Finca and it was pretty exciting to see even though the rain had begun. We were instantly greeted by the two dogs Mike inherited with the farm. The biggest of the pair was recently named General but the younger one had not been named yet.
Before Mike gave us a tour of the Finca, we tossed a case of beer in the stream to cool down because the fridge he ordered had not arrived yet.

(greeted by the general)


(as if Captain Jack was not strange enough, one of his hobbies is digging for gold. I honestly could not make this up, and I even have a picture to prove it)

(view from the back door)
(living room)

Once things got loaded in and the beds were built, Captain Jack broke out his homemade rum. For those of you who don’t know, Captain Jack is cheap rum available in the US. This homemade spiced rum was 70% and it tasted like it.




As we sat around the fire sipping river cooled beer, we all tried to avoid the rum. Captain Jack had his first glass and it was after he finished, that I had another “holy shit, you are one fucked up person and I am definitely going to write this shit down because you sir are ridiculous” moment. It was like something out of a movie. With just a drink in him, Captain Jack was back in Nam and telling us war stories. He told us about the people he met and other things most of us did not care to hear about. Then with the next glass he became an offensive old bigot, but no one said anything because he did not really understand that the things he was saying were bad. It was like when a child says a curse word, you cannot get mad at them because they have no idea of what they are actually saying.
His wife (who is Ecuadorian) called during one of his rants. We informed him that his phone was ringing. Captain Jack does not hear all that well sometimes. His response was “fuck that woman, I’ll be home when I feel like it.”
Jamie and I decided it was time for us to be heading back to Cuenca and one of Mike’s employees was ready to leave as well. Captain Jack was quick to offer us a ride and we accepted because a taxi would be around $6 (almost 2% of our month budget. Hindsight is 20/20. It began to rain. Bad sign.
As we drove down windy unlit roads in the car (sorry, Jeep) older than both Jamie and I, there were a couple of random swerves. Captain Jack played it like he was just avoiding potholes. Another clue that something was askew was when we hit a large speed bump at 20 mph sending Jamie and I airborne in the backseat (no seatbelts in the backseat, of course).

“Sorry about that fellas, didn’t see that.” He apologized

It was not until he nearly rear ended the big fucking blue bus in front of us that he explained himself after we all shouted “what the fuck?!”

“So guys, I really only have one good eye. My right eye doesn’t see all that well.
And as a result I don’t have the best depth perception”

“yeah, I’ll fucking say.” I thought to myself as I said a quick prayer.

“Just tell me if I might hit something.”

Don’t worry Captain Jack, we will.

We were close to our destination at this point, but not close enough to feel out of the shit storm that had descended upon that jeep.

I could not resist asking how that happened. Although I should have asked why the
hell he decided that kind of information was not important prior to entering his jeep.

Turns out a grenade was the cause of this partial (probably mostly) blindness.

We finally made to the city and he dropped us off. I laughed for a few minutes and then was thankful we survived. I owe the big guy for getting us through that one.

It's always sunny in Ecuador

Some days we (meaning some PCVs) wake up and wonder what are we doing here and are we really making a difference? Sometimes the evidence is right there in front us and other days it all feels like a waste. So where do we find motivation to keep moving forward and not give up. For all of us this motivation is as different as the reasons we signed up for the job in the first place. Some people are affected by different types of down points and some are affected by the same down points differently.

The Peace Corps. is often described as “the hardest job you will ever love.” I agree with this statement, but then again it all depends on what day I hear it.

So how do I deal with these down moments and low points? Play guitar, call someone and bitch about it, eat more rice than any one person should eat and quests. I have been on several quests and they are the following with results…

• Find a bar to watch American Football. Status: Achieved (added bonus of steak tacos)
• See a cock fight. Status: on going
• Grow a big barbarian-esk beard. Status: still growing
• Learn Spanish. Status: estoy trabajando
• Find a good pint of beer. Status: failed (conclusion; brew my own)
• Eat street food and not regret it. Status: Achieved

So I am kind of losing focus on the blog. What do you guys want to hear about? Drop a message please! Your input is of great value to the author.

A night Bus is defined as “a large motor vehicle designed to carry passengers usally along a fixed route according to a schedule.”

The author defines a night Bus as a “a large motor vehicle designed to scare the shit out of all the passengers while traveling along whatever route (preferably with turns that require only half the wheels on the ground) works according to a pretty accurate schedule. Fully inflating wheels is optional. Bathrooms are for women only. Males should carry water bottles. Be advised, for both sexes it is highly recommended to take a few shooters of Pepto before your ride.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XghJuH6GSCo

Trout Fishing in Ecuador

6 am on Saturday and the alarm was blasting. I jumped out of bed and got dressed and checked to see if Clint was awake in the next room. He was, and we gathered our stuff and headed downstairs to meet Isabel and her son Edgar.
Clint is a PCV from my Omnibus (get with the lingo) who lives in Paute which is about 2 hours from Baños. He stayed in the extra bedroom so he could come along on the day’s adventure.
Edgar drove the family truck with Clint and I piled in on the same bench seating next to him which made for a cramped hour ride. Isabel and her sister road in the back of the truck (she insisted) and we picked up a few people along the way who needed a ride to the campo. And finally we arrived in Yanasacha. http://www.yanasachaweb.com/index_archivos/Page801.htm


Before we decided what we were to do, we ate a nice big breakfast of eggs, grilled cheese, toast with jam, yogurt (fresh from their cows!) and coffee. Once we were all fat and happy we came to a conclusion to ride horses to the lake and spend the day trout fishing. Perfect!
We went through a very brief instruction on how to ride a horse because all of us had ridden before. We then were all handed a horse and got on. However we mounted the horse from its right side and I always remembered getting on from the other side so it felt funny to me.

(My horse)
We rode up a very rocky road that the horses could not wait to get off of. Whenever they spotted a nice little patch of grass or dirt to walk on they would veer towards it to take a break from slipping and sliding on large lose rocks. I felt bad for mine since he had trouble getting traction on the rocks and so I just let him do whatever he wanted. He knew where we were going and I did not (equestrian autopilot). So I let him steer and I just checked out the great views and smelled the fresh air.
It is moments like this (engage hippie Peace Corps. mode) that make me wonder why people spend so much time hating and killing each other over trivial crap. As I was riding the horse letting him go its course while I just looked at the scenery I realized something. This is a metaphor for life in its most simplistic form. You can spend all this time and effort trying to control every little thing and miss all the great things around you. Just let it be and enjoy the ride.
This message has been said by many people, but it is nice to really realize it every once and awhile for yourself.
The four horsemen and their guide arrived at their destination and two of the horsemen were a little disappointed with the size of the lake. But that feeling did not last for long.
The fish were jumping out of the lake! I could see tons of ripples from the fish eating bugs and we all got really excited! Our guide started to ready our rods and lures and all I could think about was this one rule I learned about fishing when I was a boy.

“Now remember kids, what is the first rule of fishing?” Uncle Frank would always say.

“Don’t hook uncle Frank.” We would all shout back in unison.

The rods were ready and we were off to the races! Clint, Edgar and I made a bet that whoever caught the largest fish would win a free drink from the others. I was just hoping to catch a fish I could eat, but it is always nice to drink on someone else’s dollar.
After only a few minutes and several cast, bam! Fish on! It was a battle for the ages that only last about 15 seconds, top. Turned out to be the biggest fish of the day! I caught two, as did Clint but Edgar caught eight!






After many hours of sipping warm cannelasa (not sure on how it is spelled but it contains sugar cane alcohol and is served warm) and fishing we called it a day and headed back to the lodge to feast on barbequed meat and some of our freshly caught trout.

We ate our big feast of a lunch and we all agreed that it was in our best interest to utilize the hammocks for a good half hour nap.
For the ride back, Clint and I sat in the back of the pickup sipping some more cannelasa celebrating a good haul of fish and a good day.
Now, not every day of my PC life is spent fishing, riding horses and sipping drinks in the mountains. I do actually “work.”

Maybe the Gringo ate your baby

I found an article online about the rugby team I am currently coaching. The team used to use coconuts to train because they did not have funds to buy actual rugby balls. Does this not sound like the making of an underdog movie, or what? From coconuts to World Cups: the story of Tristan and his Ecuadorian Journey. (Name by Joe Finch)
The guys are great to work with and eager to learn more about the game. However the practice conditions are not the best. We practice on a very small soccer under poor street lighting from 10pm to 12am. Luckily there is a Sunday morning practice which more people show up to supposedly. From what I have learned only about 10 people show up to these weekday practices. Which is also not ideal, because you need 15 people to field a team, and ideally more for practices. Hopefully in time this will change.
This past Saturday I accompanied Isabel and her sister to Nero. Nero is west of where we live by about 10 kilometers or so. The drive is very pretty but was made less enjoyable by the conditions in which we traveled. At 6am we hopped in the back of pickup truck that was already mostly full of empty steal milk containers. As we drove we collected a few more people and we were all reduced to standing. Which normally is not too bad but it was very cold with the wind and I was very underdressed. After about 40 minutes we arrived at a cross road where we got off.




We then proceeded to walk up the road and arrived at a small dairy farm. We greeted the owner and his family and then ducked under a barbed wire fence which contained several young calves and two very dirty pigs. We continued to walk and arrived at a small thicket where we followed a man made stream. All of sudden out of the bush bounding towards us came, Pelusa.


Pelusa is the dog of Isabel’s sister, who lives at their field. She is an energetic little dog who seems to love everything and anyone. It reminded me of how much I miss my dogs back home and we quickly became friends. We all headed down the hill to where several cows were attached to leashes staked in the ground. Pelusa ran towards the one calf and attempted to play. The calf, showing its age got very upset, bellowed and tripped over the legs it was still not used to.
Isabel’s sister let the calf lose for some reason and of course it ran right to its mother to feed. Coincidently, it was the same cow she was trying to milk. After I snapped a few pictures of this I helped her yank the little guy off, not an easy task. The whole process was pretty funny, Pelusa even tried to help by running in circles around us and getting underfoot.




The next few hours for me were just spent wondering around and taking pictures. Eventually it was time to start cooking lunch. We built a fire in a small little wooden shack (Smokey the Bear would not have approved of this) and started boiling potatoes. Once they were done cooking Isabel put a metal rack over the fire to barbeque the chicken, absolutely fantastic.



(The hat is not mine)
Pelusa ate all of our scraps and chicken bones. I explained to them that it is not good for dogs to eat chicken bones because they can splinter and the dog can choke to death. They laughed at this and explained that this is a
“perrito del campo.” Which basically means this dog is a hard as a coffin nail. Pelusa would chomp through the bones and swallow them with no problems. I was impressed; my wussy beagle back home would probably choke within seconds of receiving a discarded chicken bone.
No offense Molly, you know I love you but this dog is way more bad-ass than you.
After lunch we cleaned up a bit and complained about the intense sun. Isabel and I spent some time picking radishes and cleaning them up for market. After this she went back to futzing with her potatoes and I camped out with a book to read while waiting for our ride to arrive.
It was very relaxing to hang out there in the fresh air hearing no manmade noises.
A gringo is defined as “often disparaging: a foreigner in Spain or Latin America especially when English or American origen.” – Webster
A gringo more affectionately refers to the goofy bearded white kid living in the attic of Spanish or Latin American family, especially when he does something dumb or tries to explain his weird alien customs.
Gringos make for interesting and entertaining pets. They pay you to live in your house and are usually very neat. On the rare occasions a gringo might even cook some traditional meals from his country, however the meals are not very good and that is because he “couldn’t find the right ingredients and it usually tastes much better.”
While living with gringos you must keep in mind several things and gringo proof your house. Gringos have sensitive stomachs (and emotions, more on that later) and there for must choose their water sources carefully. Gringos usually refrigerate most items and can be very picky about what they eat. So if you do not refrigerate the past day’s food, try to keep it out of the direct line of site. Gringos are not all that observant for the most part.
Gringos loveeeee privacy and will require curtains for their windows.
Gringos are great pets and make a great addition to any Spanish or Latin American family.


Gringos also love self pictures

Holy crap, I found a nudist colony!

When music hits you, you feel no pain. However, when you are sitting in a chair and feel something flair. Diarrhea. Diarrhea. Goes the tune.
So when the shit hits the fan, do not panic. This will only make a shitty situation, well, shittier. Getting the point of this entry yet?
Luckily Isabel is the shit and helps out the sick gringo living in the attic of her house. For this illness she took me into the garden to collect some herbs to make a tea. She handed me a canella flower and the root of onion, and we headed back inside. Interesting combination, I thought as I wondered about the taste of this particular tea.
She put on a small pot of water and waited for it to boil before turning off the burner and adding the ingredients. Once it cooled, I was allowed to drink the oniony concoction and then promptly went to bed. The next morning I awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to take on the world.

Another interesting discovery was recently found by another volunteer and brought to my attention by another PCV. When you yawn, it does not signify that you are tired. It means you are hungry. I never put two and two together until this point. I have been randomly asked if I was hungry, but never thought it was because I yawned. It is better than being asked if I am tired, plus I am always hungry.
So a week ago I tried to explain to Isabel why I did not want to drink coffee at 11pm. I informed her that it keeps me awake. She found this to be really funny and in fact a bull shit excuse for not drinking coffee. Now a few days later I had coffee and humitas http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humita with Isabel and her uncle. She told him this hilarious story about me and my unique problem with coffee. He found it just as funny and my explanation of caffeine was not effective. Frustration ensued and I ate my humitas quietly.

Saturday the 16th of October

Today Clint and I went to meet the Scout group as per usual. However, today was different. It was field trip day! Destination, unknown. We arrived at a government building and the Scouts attire was looked over and approved. Shit needed to be in order and tucked in. When it came time to inspect Clint and I they just walked on. I had on a dirty shirt and grass stained jeans, no hope.
We walked in to a very nice reception room where on the stage some Scouts set up guitars, drum machines, microphones and a bass. Ok, looks like we might get some live music! Sure enough they played a couple songs throughout the ceremony honoring certain Scouts. It appeared that some had deserved the privilege of becoming a higher rank and that was the point of this trip.




Clint and I have also agreed to teach 30 minutes of English to the Scouts every Saturday. So we need to get a lesson plan (general) together pretty quick.
Later in the night I while drinking a beer at a bar I was approached by guy who asked me if I play rugby. I asked why, and he pointed out the fact that I was wearing Scotland’s rugby polo. Yeah, I did play for a bit in high school and college.
He asked me to join him and his teammates for a drink. From what I gathered it seems they do not know a lot and there coach just quit. So they want someone to help run practices and get them ready for a tournament in December. I told them I not a great player but I will try my best to help them out. I will be at their practice next Sunday to help out.


Sunday

Today I felt guilty for finding the following situation funny, but I did not laugh out loud. Whilst at a barbeque lunch at the neighbors I noticed the little 4 year old cousin mildly harassing a bunch of very small baby chicks. Then all of sudden mama chicken sees this and does not approve. The bird runs full speed to the sitting girl and drills her right in the head with its head. BOOM! The girl goes over backwards and is reduced to screams and tears for her mama.
Mom told her that there is no need to worry. That next weekend they will kill and eat the bad mama chicken. This made the girl stop crying and she smiled a little. I hope I am invited to that dinner too!







Websters’ defines homesickness as “longing for home and family while absent from them.”
Tristan defines homesickness as “longing for Creedence Clearwater Rival at full volume, family parties, friends, Yuengling and pizza, Phillies, Eagles and of course WaWa.”

To overcome this occupational hazard, the author employees many age old tactics. Firstly he combats this disease (which is almost as deadly as RLS, which the author most definitely has as well http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/restless%20legs%20syndrome) with writing this blog, so thanks for reading it! Secondly, he has an American flag hanging proudly in his bedroom window. Thirdly, he hears updates about the hit show Jersey Shore, and is glad he is on the other side of the world from that over-gelled mess.
The Author’s mind is also worried about culture shock. Defined by Webster as “a sense of confusion and uncertainty sometimes with feelings of anxiety that may affect people exposed to an alien culture or environment without adequate preparation.”

Eh, that is a pretty good description.

Tristan’s definition is similar. “A sense of confusion for paying more than a $1.50 for a 22 oz. beer at a bar and a state of uncertainty on deciding whether to go to either Pat’s or Geno’s for a cheesesteak upon returning from Ecuador.”


I heard somewhere catchy titles get people to read things they normally would not. Hope it worked!

Life

October 1st, not my average Friday night
The previous night at my house, while I was stuck inside my house because of the coup, there was an hour long religious ceremony in our living room. There was lots of candles, insense and a 2 foot tall statue of Jesus in a glass box. I asked what it was for, but I did not understand the answer and so it remains a mystery to me.
Tonight, I was called down from my room by Isabel for another ceremony. Had I known there was going to be another ceremony I would not have drank those three beers… This time when I got to the living room there was no one there. Needless to say I was confused, then Isabel handed me a chair and told me to go next door.
There is a passage way between our house and the restaurant Isabel is building next door. I never knew it was there until today, amazing. So I carry the chair into the unfinished cement building expecting to find the same 10 people from last night. Nope, there were about 40 people and several women had beautiful rose bouquets resting at their feet. I promptly set the chair down and continued to make myself useful by passing out bread to everyone while they awaited their coffee.
The same religious leader (not sure of his title) from the night before read a few passages and then everyone grabbed a candle and went outside. Four people, Isabel being one of them, picked up the statue that now was sitting on top of a wooden pallet with four horizontal poles coming out of it to rest on the carriers’ shoulders. It looked rather heavy.
With my candle in hand we began walking the wrong way up a one way road up the hill towards the Church (the blue one from my pictures). We were followed by a beat up pickup truck with the religious leader singing over a homemade loud speaker system attached to the truck.
We were no more than 30 yards from the church when Isabel asked me to take over for her. Of course I would, besides we are so close. The procession proceeded down the road past the church to where the paved road and street lights end. Oh crap.
There is no moon on this night so it is exceptionally dark however, the stars are plenty! I asked the man who was on the other side of the wooden contraption where we were going. He mentioned some town I have never heard of. I then asked how far. He said with a smile 4-5 kilometers. Oh man, my shoulders are going to hurt tomorrow.
While we were marching up the road, there were many bottle rockets being fired into the sky from field all around us. I finally spotted the person responsible. It was this little old man who would sneak off from the group every once and while and set a few off.
After what seemed forever we finally made it to a small chapel in the middle of nowhere. We sat through a long ceremony and I was thoroughly lost as to what this was all about, but I enjoyed the experience.


This is for my uncle Steve. Do you know what they use to make horseshoes here? Rebar. Thought you might get a kick out of that.

Brewing operations have been delayed yet again. Someday, I hope.

The owner of the tienda I always buy my snacks and beer from has a bi-polar owner. Some days he is really excited to see me and we chat for awhile. Other days he is a little cold and gives me weird looks when I try to strike up a conversation.
Today when I walked to the tienda I saw him showing off one of his fighting cocks to some people and then out walked his look alike brother. Fuck me, that explained a lot. I guess I have become that weird volunteer that talks to everyone. I then walk up to greet them both and to figure out which one actually likes talking to me. He was the one with the rooster.
Luckily this rooster is not as aggressive as El Capitan. I was able to pet it and feel how sharp his spurs are. Jaime invited me to come with him some Sunday to check out the fights. An offer I will definitely take him up on.
As we were talking a pick up rolled up on the sidewalk behind me, but I paid it no attention. A lot of people park their cars on the side walk on this street. However I spun around when I heard an ogre behind me! In the bed of this small pickup truck not more than two feet behind me were three enormous pigs. They we not happy about being tied up in the bed of the truck and were making their current emotions known.
I then thought of how I could make a three little pigs joke but thankfully my mouth did not listen. I doubt they know that children’s tale and if I said it I would have had to explain it. Effort. Sometimes I do not put that word into my daily activities, and today was one of those days. So instead I bought beer and had a lovely happy hour playing tunes on my guitar. Ah, Peace Corps.

Perks of the Peace Corps.

Wednesday, First day of my class
This morning Estella and I discussed the presentation I will give next week concerning the bench/tree project. The project has gone from a couple hundred dollars to around four thousand in the past few weeks. I hope it gets approved! We also discussed the trash project. There are some meetings scheduled next week to talk to the big players in town about what to with their trash. From there, we will reach out to the rest of the people.
We then started talking about the town dogs. Some have owners and some do not. Well, those are the only two options, obviously. I did my best to explain leash laws, collars with names/addresses and the concept of a dog pound/catcher. She liked the idea but thinks some of them will never happen. We agreed that I should go ahead with researching it and doing a feasibility study.
Then it was time to call the people who said they would attend my super-fantastic-informative marketing class. Not one person of the twenty answered. Given it was around lunch time, but still. This got me worried that I would have similar experiences other PCVs have had when they give their first class; a big goose egg for the number of people in attendance.
I ran from the Junta to the class room down the hill in the pouring rain with my laptop and their projector and still managed to get totally soaked. So now I smell like a wet dog and look like one. When I arrived at the Community center I was given a janitor’s size key ring to figure out which key would open the classroom. After going through every key, I used a trick I learned back in my college years. I whipped out my handy-dandy Red Cross card, slid it through the door crack and turned the knob. Abra kadabra, the door opened.
I would not have done this is anyone was around. I would not want them to think I have had a questionable or shady past life as a thief. However, I could tell them without lying that I learned that trick from a successful entrepreneur and one of my closest friends. There is need for anyone to know it was Tim who taught me the trick.
I tried every outlet in the joint and not one functioned. Shit. Game time decision. I would have to use my laptop screen for the PowerPoint. Great, only 40 minute left on my computer battery. With some time to kill, I went to purchase an ice cream bar to clear my thoughts and get ready to teach my first class in Spanish, and in general.
4:15pm three women show up for my class. I was a little surprised, considering it was still raining. One of the women works for herself, another works at a local hostel and the last one is currently looking for work.
The class went pretty well all things considered. I was also informed by one of the students how to make the outlets work at the end of my class. Thank goodness because she said 20 people are coming to my next class…
COUP
Walking down my street back from the Junta seeing kids playing in the street and towns people going out there daily business was strange site today. Their president had just been attacked by the national police because he cut their benefits in half and stopped promotions. Quito, the capital is in complete anarchy along with several other cities. I have yet to see the news, but when I got to my local tienda to get supplies, I saw the news. Chaos, tear gas and tire fires were all I saw. The tienda owner suggested I buy a few beers and get drunk and lay low. I heeded his wise advice and loaded my bag with Doritos and beers. He also told me a Co-op bank down the road was robbed, along with a hardware store. Well, I guess my sleepy town did not want to miss out on the lack of police either.
Later in the day I would peak out my windows expecting rioters with pitchforks. Thank god there were none, just some kids playing on push carts. Much safer. As the day carried on, the situation seemed to get worse and worse. I got word that the airports were taken over by the striking police (what is our exit strategy now?).
9pm there was a shoot out outside of the hospital the president was held up in between police and the striking police. Details are confusing, hard to tell what is real and what is not. What I do know is that the Peace Corps. was on top of this and had every PCV accounted for very quickly and has been giving us updates and instructions. I feel very comfortable with their efforts to keep us safe.
Friday, Day two
I woke up to read the news on CNN and found this “After the meeting [of Latin American Leaders] Chavez accused the U.S of being behind the unrest in Ecuador. ‘The Yankee extreme right is trying right now, through arms and violence, to retake control of the continent,’ Chavez said.”
Now I am little worried seeing as I am American as it gets and I have a big American flag hanging in my window. We have been ordered by the PC to stay in our sites “until the end of the ‘Estado de Exception’ which at this moment is set for a one-week period.”
My bottle of Johnnie Walker is running low and they do not sell it in my site. Sigh.
On a completely unrelated note, I enjoy the sound of the rain on my metal roof.
Lastly, I am in a need of some new songs to learn on my guitar. Please, post suggestions!

Brewing up a side project

Friday, What a Day!
I got the phone number for a man I wanted to speak with in Cuenca. I was scared my poor Spanish would make me sound dumb and there for not useful. I was definitely a little nervous about talking to other people and calling some that I do not know to talk business; this was different. But after a week I manned up and gave Pedro a call yesterday. He owns the only brew pub in Cuenca.
We scheduled the meeting for today at 5pm at the brew pub, of course. I show up a bit early, and ask if they have any of their three microbrews on tap. “no.” This is the third week in a row they have not had their own stuff and one of the questions I had for Pedro.
I was not sure what kind of person Pedro would be like. He is a taller guy, mid thirties maybe, wearing stylish clothes and a taste for Marlboros. He walked in, greeted me and passed a $5 bill to the bartender who ran out of the pub and was back in seconds with a pack of Marlboro Reds. He looked at me and asked me to talk about what my idea. He then had the same bartender get him a beer.
I told him that I wanted to learn to brew beer in large quantities and that I brewed back home. In exchange for that I could help him a little with the business. I told him that I am a PCV living in Baños working with the Padre and Junta. I told him I would be here two years and wanted a place to go to have a good beer.
He took a long drag way past the point that most people smoke on a cigarette and then snubbed it out. He then leaned back from the ashtray on the bar, looked at me and more or less said “ok.” I was dumbfounded. That was too easy. I thought I would have to put up a fight, give more reasons or even beg. Well great that I did not have to beg.
“So why no beer?”
Apparently his malted barley and other grains are from Argentina and apparently they do not rush things and take their time shipping. This did not seem to faze Pedro at all. Then I realized this is probably his side project business, he clearly has money and this place is not making much. He did not seem concerned at all that he has to wait another two weeks for his key ingredients and that there is no rush to make a new batch. He orders his hops from Washington State. He said he is unable to brew beer during their winter because he cannot get hops. There have to be other places to get hops; in fact I know there are. Perhaps I can be useful after all.
After awhile of just hanging out talking about this and that I excused myself to meet up with friends. I asked him when I should give a call about the next batch and we set a rough date to brew. I plan on calling a few days early just in case.
I left feeling pretty good and then realized I do not know any of the brewing terms in Spanish. I need to put together a list of useful words and phrases I thought to myself as I went to meet up with Clint and Mitch for a beer.
A little later we went to meet up with Sonya, another volunteer at her friend’s house. We were told buy some at the bar the place were walking to was only 15 min away. Well it is not, it is like an hour walk. So we got a cab halfway. Have not gotten reliable directions here yet, we must be asking the wrong questions.
We met Sonya and her friend Carlos at his house and then promptly went out to solve his lack of beer problem. Mitch, Clint and I went to grab pizza from a nearby place. As it just so happens it was the pizza we have had here. I was a big fan of the ham, pineapple and peach one especially. After some beers and talking I feel like bed. Then around 11-ish Sonya suggests we go to a dance club. We all agreed, at least if we did not feel like it our hostel is only a block away.
There was a three dollar cover charge at the dance club! No matter we all went in. We stayed for an hour or two in a very overcrowded club. It felt like I was in a small closet with 300 people, we were not really dancing. From above we probably just looked like cells under a microscope bumping into each other.
We pulled the plug around one and we walked to our hostel. It was a nice sleep for me, because the hostel is much warmer than my attic room in Baños. It was a nice change to get out of bed and not be cold.
Saturday
I walked around with Clint for awhile because Mitch had to split off to buy a new cell phone. So we thought about seeing a movie in theatres. Nothing peaked our interest but at least we now know where the movie theatre is. Clint decided to go home and leave me to my shopping. I was in need of hot sauce, instant coffee and some other random stuff for the kitchen. I think I got Rosa hooked on the sauce, she puts it on everything. Luckily she does so sparingly.
My day was made complete when I came home and found Edgar watching WWF dubbed over in Spanish drinking a Budwieser. We said hola and he told me that there is fried chicken in the kitchen and to grad a beer from the fridge. Wow, not what I was expecting but a welcome surprise none the less. After WWF we watched the new Bruce Willis film Cop Out and laughed the whole time. I retired to my room to read Brewing Up a Business by Sam Calagione, the owner of Dogfish Head Craft Brewery. It felt like an appropriate time to start up a book I had been anticipating to read since my friend Tim gave it to me. So far so good! But man it makes me miss a good beer.

Monday September 20th-Thursday September 23rd.

I now go to the Junta Parochial every day to talk to people about the many projects I have in the works. A newer project is designing pamphlets about not littering; a large problem in my community.
My tree planting project has expanded to putting in small stone walls around the trees and benches. It is really nice to see the enthusiasm the project gets from people when I explain it.
I have met with different people about supplies and architects to get all the pricing in order. Everyone is very eager to help because they know this project benefits the whole community. The man who supplies the volcanic rock is willing to donate all the rock we need for free if we get him the permit from the municipality to mine more of it.
Cold calls in Spanish are not something I enjoy doing. Then again, does anyone enjoy cold calling? I was trying to get people to sign up for the marketing class I am going to start teaching next week. I definitely confused a lot of people; luckily Estella from the Junta was there to bail me out when she heard the confusion on the line. Overall, it looks like I will have a class of 15 starting next Wednesday!

Thursday the volunteers in the immediate Cuenca area had a very unique opportunity to have coffee with US Ambassador to Ecuador, Heather Hodges. She was great to talk to and was generally interested in our projects and what our experiences have been thus far. She says she enjoys here work here; however the red tape she has to cut through to get stuff is frustrating at times. I feel very comfortable knowing she is keeping a watchful on the Peace Corps. and its volunteers.

First bottle of hot sauce is gone

Saturday September 11th
There was a front page article in the Cuenca paper about mourners gathering at ground zero in New York today. It was well written and sympathetic from what I understood.
Later that day I met up with Clint, a PCV who lives an hour outside of Cuenca, to go with the Scouts to an orphanage. As it turns out there was a kink in the plan and we ended up not going to the orphanage. Instead we played a few games and helped brainstorm community service projects and fundraising ideas for the Scouts.
After the meeting Clint and I met up with two other PCVs, Jaime and Miguel(PC loves acronyms) at the Cuenca house. Some family apparently has extra space in their house and likes volunteers. So the deal is we get a bed, clean sheets, a key to the house all for the shockingly low price of $3.50. Most hostels cost at least $10 a night.
So the four of us went out to grab a few drinks a play some good old Texas hold’em. The buy in was a dollar, and Clint who has the least card experience of us all walked away with the big pot of $4. Later on in the night we stopped by a club to dance, but only stayed for a few minutes as we were all tired.
Sunday September 12, 2010
Ceviche for breakfast! For those readers who missed that blog I shall explain. Ceviche is a delicious seafood soup with a base of citrus juice (orange and lime), tomatoes and onions. Serve that up with a little hot sauce, of course rice, and some fried plantains all for a $1.50. Perfect PC breakfast.
Since I do not get much in the way of dairy products in my diet I treated myself to an Oreo milkshake for lunch. I am glad I did, it was perfect. I really dislike the feeling of having a craving for food, getting it, and then being disappointed because it is not up to par.
Today was our cluster picnic/meet and great. A cluster is the volunteers who live within 5 hours by bus from a major city, more or less. So in my cluster there is about 10 PCVs. Most of us met in Parque Calderon, which is in the center of Cuenca to catch a pick up to the park.
I must say I was pleasantly surprised by the park. It had multiple full sized futbol fields (do not call it soccer) volley ball courts, basketball courts, a surplus of benches, vendors, wild dogs, domesticated dogs, a few undomesticated PCVs, paddle boats, a pond for the paddle boats and a very long line for the boats and an even longer sentence to explain it.
We talked about our sites and hometowns and crazy stories. After awhile I was overcome by the urge to pass out and did just that. Not from a lack of interest in the conversations, but just because. There is something serene about sleeping in the grass on a warm day.
So after an all day event of snacking on homemade cookies, cheese, crackers and salami we were hungry for dinner. To me this was a good sign that I am still the same person I was in the US. So we walked west towards the city and stopped at the Mexican place I had been to the week prior.
After my burrito, guacamole and salsa I was ready to be in my bed to commence my food coma. However I had a thought, brief and fleeting as most of mine are. Are there buses to my site at this time of night on a Sunday? It is only 8pm, there should be. If I had an Iphone I would have know that there were not. But I do not own one, so hear is a quick story.
I get to the bus stop and see two women waiting which was a good sign so I thought. After about 20 minutes a beat up looking white station wagon rolls up stops and out comes an off duty mall Santa. This guy was a spitting image of Father Christmas. He asked the ladies “taxi?” He looked at me and asked the same. I wish my Spanish was better because I would have asked him what would he say if he was in my shoes. But alas my language ability is not there yet and I simply said “no gracias.”
Being a gringo sucks because you attract unwanted attention. Being me can be a pain because I have a bum magnet. They pick me out and talk to me, just me, even when I am in a crowd of people.
He then proceeded to tell me in broken English that my Spanish was very good. I thought to myself for a second. I said two words, one of which is an English word as well so I really only said one. And gracias might as well be English. Sir you need to work on flattery skills because as of now I am still not riding in your busted vehicle with you behind the wheel.
Shit. I paused too long. I was then told his life story. He lived all over the US, Chicago, New York and L.A. However provided little details, so I figured he was bull-shiting me. So I told him I lived in Tokyo for most of my life and practiced Kung Fu as child. At least it passed some time, about 40 minutes or so. I also figured if potential muggers saw me talking to this guy, they would not even bother with us and move on to look for people who might actually have something worth stealing.
At this point it was getting late and my poor diet was catching up with me and consuming my patience. So I went to hail a legit taxi. I felt rude, but when it comes to my safety I do not mind be a little bit of an asshole. He asked me why I do not let him take me. I told him it is illegal for me as an employee of my company to take an illegal cab. That answer was good enough and I hailed a cab and was in Baños and in my baño in no time. Worth the $4.
11:38pm, just fallen asleep. Nuclear sirens! What the fuck?! This was a scene straight out of an old war movie combined with a comedy. I jumped out of bed fumbled in the dark for my pants, shirt and started down the stairs trying to get dressed in one motion. My brothers saw this and just laughed at me. I am glad that clumsy is funny worldwide.
When we got outside most houses in my hood had people outside not looking overly concerned. I asked Pablo what all this was about. Apparently if there are thieves, riots or some kind of crime going on they “sound the alarm.”
After 10 minutes of nothing, everyone seems satisfied and head inside.
Sleep.
The rest of the week September something to today,
I realized my blog entries have become a bit repetitive and thought I would spice them up a little bit.
So here is a list of likes and dislikes and whatever else.
1. Rice, I am glad I like it. I know I have said it before, but it is a sanity saving factor.
2. Dislike that the V button on my keyboard is not functioning as well as before.
3. Dislike the lack of beer variety here, but like that I can get a G&T for $1.50 at the places I frequent on my weekend getaways.
4. I am not a big fan of the intimidating barking dogs on this one road in my town. But it is a good substitute for the instant coffee. (Rabies shots are up to date)
5. Glad I brought my guitar.
6. I like my town, but not the random fireworks at odd hours of the night.
7. I like that most of the veggies I eat are grown out back behind our house by Rosa (the grandmother)
8. I had cuy Tuesday and the experience was much more enjoyable this time around. Also, I was extremely hungry.
9. DVDs cost a dollar fifty! Not that I buy them… because that would be a violation of copyright laws.
10. The Coca Cola is way better here because it is made with real sugar!
11. Ice cream has made its way into my diet more so than back in the states and I am ok with that.
12. Dislike the way my jeans are too big. A problem some Americans pay to have.
13. Dislike that someone or group repainted the futbol field before I could.
14. Happy it got painted though!
15. I like that so many people read my blog and give me feedback and questions. Thanks everyone!
16. Like that my Spanish skills are improving and that my mistakes are still funny.
17. Like the updates Nanny and Pops!

Punk Rock, Pizza and Rain.

The 6th, a Monday (let me redo this one with a little more information)

Today I had my long awaited meeting with Estella from the Junta Parochial. We discussed the plan for the marketing class and decided that next week it will begin. 11 classes in 11 weeks and each class will be about 2 hours. We decided that tomorrow we would go to all the local businesses to see if there was an interest.
I also mentioned the Scout troop I met had some interest in doing some projects here in Baños. She was very excited and asked if they would come clean all the trash in the streets once a week. I explained that they probably would not have an interest in that. Instead, that they would prefer projects that can be done in a few hours and require only one trip. For instance, repainting the lines on the basketball/futbol court (which is cement). She liked this idea and asked me to find out how much the project would cost and then she would present it to the board for approval.
Cool, left the meeting feeling pretty good. Spent the rest of the day reading and writing the previous blog. Also Skype chatted with the family. They told me of all the wondrous steaks, pizzas and beer they have had recently. Thanks guys.

A rainy Tuesday in Baños

Woke up to loud rain hitting a metal roof.
I arrived at the Junta at 9am (well, more like 9:15ish) for the meeting. Turns out there was some other event going on and I have no idea what it was. It was just a big line of people. I inquired what the line was for and received an answer that I did not understand. So I nodded and asked if tomorrow might be better. I was told tomorrow afternoon would work perfect.
More rain.
Lunch was a repeat of yesterday’s veggie soup. I decided to be semi creative and threw some parmesan cheese in it that was leftover from Friday. I also added hot sauce, but that is pretty much a given.
Just hung around and played guitar until 2pm when my next meeting was. This one was with a group of teachers and local movers and shakers that the previous volunteer helped organize. I got to the meeting spot and found no one. So I walked to the Iban’s store to see what happened.
Iban owns the local photo, fax and any other miscellaneous electronic item shop. He is also the tech guy for the Junta.
He told me that the meeting had been moved to next week because school started this week and things are hectic. Or, at least that is what it sounded like. He then asked me if I had some time to help him with a problem. I tried not to look too excited, I needed to do something!
At first it seemed like he wanted me to smuggle in a DVD copier machine from the US. Then after some more questions on my part I figured out he only wanted help ordering it from the US. He showed me the website and it was some place in Manhattan. He wanted to know if they ship to Ecuador, how much and all the other normal things.
The device itself cost around $230, but shipping cost $140. Seemed like an expensive purchase. I then had to talk with UPS to see where in Ecuador they could be delivered to but got no answer.
So then he asked if I could come back tomorrow to help order them. Sure!
It is fun waking up, having a schedule and knowing that it is all going to change.

Wednesday

I spent the first part of today walking around the town trying to generate some interest in my marketing class with Estella, from the Junta. We got a lot of interest, which was a relief to me. While walking I asked her about another project.
I want to create a proposal for the Junta to purchase metal trashcans to place throughout Baños. Hopefully this project would cut down on the amount of trash in the streets, and there for get rid of some of the street dogs that rely on this trash for food. Along with the trashcans I want to have signs made that say something like “Help keep Baños clean” to put on the trashcans.
Estella also asked me to draw up another proposal to buy some trees to plant in by the soccer field. I really liked the idea. As of now there is no shade anywhere. There are just these little shrubs that get planted every year. What is the opposite of a perennial, anyone?
After dinner, Pablo, the older brother asked me I could show him some stuff on guitar. I brought my guitar downstairs and he did the same. We spent a good hour just talking and playing music. He started to teach me a few songs in Spanish and I showed him some in English.
Afterwards I went with Isabel to the town center (next to the church) for some fireworks. Baños is in festival right now, which means there is something going every day. The fireworks were pretty cool, similar idea to the ones in Cayambe, except there was no Vaca Loca.

Thursday

Today I went into town to buy a few things I needed and some others that I wanted. I got 4 DVDs for $5 (wanted). Then I walked around trying to find a store that sold large trashcans to get prices for my proposal. My efforts were fruitless. Oh well.
So then I ambled on over to the super market to buy ingredients for pizza making tomorrow! The rest of the day I played guitar and caught up on world news.
There was also a rock concert going on that I had to listen to until about 2am, from my room. It was pretty terrible punk rock. I am just glad my current residence is not any closer to the square. Wow, I sound really old writing that. Kids and their loud music! Yarg, insert more old man rambling here.
Friday
Woke up early, I needed to start getting my PowerPoint ready for my first class as a teacher next week. I had to translate the slides I made into Spanish and start writing a basic script. That took awhile, but the subject is fun for me. Marketing is a fun topic I think, much more so than any engineering class I would dare say.
I could not wait to make pizza. I kept bugging Isabel asking her when she would be ready to start. She likes to see how I cook and writes down the recipes.

Finally around 5ish we started making the dough.

Ingredients
• 1 ½ cup slightly warm (85-90 degrees) water (don’t kill the yeast)
• 1 tsp yeast
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 6 tablespoon olive oil
• 4 ½ cups flour (1/2 whole wheat if you like)
Directions
Place water and yeast in a large bowl and stir until dissolved. Add the salt and 6 tablespoon olive oil and mix well to combine. Add 1 cup of the flour and mix with a wooden spoon until it becomes a loose batter. Add more cups of the flour and stir for 2 to 3 minutes, incorporating as much flour as you can with the wooden spoon.
Bring the dough together by hand and turn out onto a hard clean surface. Knead for 6 to 8 minutes, until dough is smooth and firm. Place in a clean, lightly-oiled bowl, using remaining tablespoon of oil and cover with a towel. Let rise in the warmest part of the kitchen for 45 minutes (if you can stand waiting that long).

You can put in refrigerator and use within a few days or even freeze.

For individual pizzas or calzones, cut the dough into 4 equal pieces and knead into rounds. For one large pizza, knead into 1 large round. For either, let rest for 15 minutes.
Top with anything you like or just olive oil and salt.
Bake in a hot oven (400-450 degrees F (about 200C)) for about 10 minutes depending on how much stuff you put on top!

Recipe provided by Pt Schreck the famous painter (lesser known as my mother)

We topped our pizza with parmesan, mozzarella, Portobello mushrooms (love’em), pepperoni, broccoli and onions. The two pizzas we made came out great! We even have leftovers for lunch tomorrow!

PS Dear parental units, this is a reminder to tape the Eagle’s game Sunday. Thanks!

Sorry no pictures of the pizza. I guess I accidently deleted them while transfering them. Ugh, next time!

Laughter is universal

What are the sanitary conditions like? Running water/indoor plumbing? How’s power there available and always on?
These are some frequent questions I have received and will now address. Sanitary conditions are pretty good here (in my house). Most houses in my community have running water and indoor plumbing (don’t flush the TP!) and electricity. Power has yet to go out, that I have noticed. However it is the dry season, despite that, it still rains about twice a week. But because it is the “dry” season every once and a while the water is turned off for conservation. The time varies from 2 hours to a day and I have to figure out how they pick the times to turn it off, it is never the same.
About a mile or so up the road (where I went for the walk in the previous entry) cell reception is spotty at best and the toilets are mostly in an outhouse out back.
My host family always has some kind of soup for lunch. Sometimes we have a second dish that always has rice and some kind of meat (canned tuna, chicken, beef, some things I am not sure of).
My favorite soup is Chicken Soup and vegetables – Sopa de pollo y verduras. It is my favorite because it has lots of veggies, something my diet here could always use more of.

Put chicken parts in a pot of water with a little bit of salt and sliced up carrots. Bring this to a boil.

After 20 minutes add chopped potatoes.

After 30 minutes add peas and broccoli and any other veggies.

Stop after 40 mins. Let sit for a minute and enjoy

Super simple recipe and it can easily be jazzed up more if the chef feels like it.

Friday September 3rd, 2010

Tonight I was on a mission to cook dinner for my family. I decided Portobello mushroom risotto would be the dish. They love rice and my brother lovessss mushrooms. So should be a big hit, I hope.
So as I am about to start cooking, I realize I have to find a wine opener. I figured since there were some wine bottles in the house, they have a wine opener. Don’t assume. So Isabel told me the neighbor have one. So we walked the 10 feet across the street and rang the bell. Sure enough they had one! Thank god.
Wait? It’s already sort of broken. So Isabel starts to use the opener, not well. I ask if I can do it. She looks at me like “what the hell could you possibly know about this.”
Finally the cork is ready to be pulled out. Isabel is unable to muster the strength required to open it. So finally I get my chance to open it and prove my worth. So what do I do? I end up breaking the handle of the opener right in half. Shiiittttt. This got a lot of laughter from the neighbor and Isabel. I felt dumb. But in my defense, that opener was made of the cheapest metal known to this earth.
Now what? Isabel suggests we go to the spa nearby because they probably have one. Sure enough they did and we finally got the bottle open. Ecuador is not a wine culture. Lesson learned.
The risotto came out pretty good, my brothers even got seconds, something I have never seen them do. This week I am going to cook homemade pizza and see how that goes.
Later that night, Isabel tells me it is time to go to the reigna competition (queen competition). I was expecting it to be pretty low key, or maybe the wine was. So I just wear jeans, hoodie and my camo nascar hat. We walk into the place and it was like how I would imagine it would feel like walking into a fashion show. Everyone was dressed up in nice dresses and suits. Crap. I ran home and changed so I would not stand out TOO badly. I always stand out, being the only gringo and all.
The 5 reignas aged from 16-20. They all did their initial runway walks (yeah there was a runway). After, came some famous singer who sang a few songs. I was not too impressed. Next up was the reignas dressed in different types of traditional clothing. The clothing ranged from coastal, sierra and oriente. It was neat to see how different the styles were in one country.
The next act had me in stitches from trying not to laugh out loud. Two back up dancers, and one long haired guy in a very tight gold suit. The all had very serious looks as they stood like statues. Until, Micheal Jackson’s Beat It came on. They were good, but it was just pretty damn funny and out of the blue. They also danced to MJ’s “they don’t really care about us” Shout out to the Bioko crew!

The oldest competitor of the Reignas won. She did not seem too surprised though.

Saturday the 4th,

Woke up. Ate breakfast. Read. Then I putted around for awhile until it was time for me to go my meeting in Cuenca. I was meeting up with the Cuenca scout group to check it out.
So it turns out scouts here are co-ed. They had about 30 boys and girls between ages of 7 and 20. They were all really nice and respectful. The scout master was really excited that I wanted to work with them. He told me if I ever have projects in Baños and need their help, they will gladly lend a hand.
So we hung out, played some games and I got to meet a lot of the older kids. Apparently most of them are very new and do not know each other. This worked great for me in getting to know everyone. Next weekend we will all be going to an orphanage to play with the kids there.
Afterwards I met up with a bunch of other volunteers to celebrate Jaime’s birthday. Ate way too much shwarma (gyros).

Sunday the day after Saturday,

Food Festival! Cool! Tents were set up all over the center and the futbol field. Selling a wide variety of food and trinkets. Isabel and I picked a stand that had some kind of traditional soup. Sure, why not, we will have a bowl. Turns out it was goat foot and intestine soup. Yum! No, not really. But interesting.
Then a bunch of guys started to build what looked to be a wrestling ring. Turns out it was for boxing. Not entirely sure why the food festival had boxing… but I am glad it did. We watched three matches before retiring back to the house for dinner.

Monday, Happy Labor day!

Met with Estella, the president of the Junta finally. So next week I will begin teaching marketing! Also we discussed a couple projects to include the scouts on. First project will be to repaint the cement basketball/futbol field. I have to come up a budget and pricing for the project, but it seems like it will be approved.

I hope to have my mail situation figured out this weekend so I can finally give my address out.