July 22nd, 2010 to my Cousin Kim, it is probably in your best interest you do not read this blog entry.
Today was a pretty relaxing day. Had an extended lunch with the committee that the current volunteer (Brad) helped to create. It was interesting to hear their ideas and how they differ from other ideas in the community. I am sure in the future I will be able to explain that better, but first I want to know more about the going-ons in the town.
Later on in the day I went to mass with Isabel and afterwards we had a lovely dinner with the Padre and some other important local people who names I will someday know.
The first dish, usually soup, was soup. It was good, but I was preoccupied with the thought that I was going to get served cuy (guinea pig) for the main course. As I was slurping down my hot soup, I saw the ladies who brought the food prepping something in a greasy cardboard box.
“Maybe it is just a box of super greasy potato chips.” I reassured myself
“Why did she grab scissors and what is she cutting in the box?! Maybe she is cutting snowflakes out of potato chips like I did with paper when I was a kid.” I lied to myself
Shit.
The lady removes her hands from the box, scissor hand first, and in the other hand is a whole cuy grilled to what I assume would be perfection. The skin looks like hardened caramel. Cuy are usually cooked on spits, this one clearly was. How do I know this you ask? It is quite obvious, the jaw is broken and open wide mimicking a python ready to swallow a hippo. The other end of the cuy is opened just as wide.
She continued to cut the cuy in half. When suddenly I realized I had stopped eating my soup and was simply starring at this lady and the cuy across the room. I don’t think anyone noticed, so I did the best I could to finish my soup and not to think of my pet guinea pig I had as a kid. Crap, I just did. Now all I could think about Wendy. She used to cry out whenever we would open the fridge, hoping to get some lettuce or other veggies. Cute little thing she was, may she rest in peace.
A plate with potatoes, rice and half a cuy was placed in front of me. I have eaten some weird things before including shark, duck feet, kangaroo and raw goat’s blood. But this for some reason was a whole new level of gut wrenching torture to pick the bones clean as not to insult my hosts.
It is a greasy meat. I will let you, the readers, decide for yourself if you like it. I hope I myself grow to like this traditional dish. I have been informed that I will most likely be eating it a few times a month.
July 23rd, 2010
Integration is a funny thing. Sometimes I think the Peace Corps. overcomplicates the subject and how to achieve it. After I ate breakfast, I noticed my host brother Pablo was watching the movie Avatar (in Spanish). So I joined him and we sat in silence watching for a good 2 hours. After he asked me if I like action movies and who my favorite stars were. He is a big action fan too; he likes Sylvestor Stalone and just about any movie with gore. On to the next action flick, The Book of Eli, in which Denzel Washington kicks a lot of ass and dies as a martyr. Then came lunch time and we ate in silence and then headed our separate ways for the day. We said “see you later” but this time it sounded different. It sounded like we both wanted to actually hang out again. It was at that point that I knew I had made another friend.
That night, Isabel hosted a goodbye/welcome party for Brad and myself. A bunch of neighbors came to help celebrate in the frame of a four story apartment building next to our house. Turns out that Isabel owns it and plans on putting a restaurant on the first floor! However she ran out of funds, so the project is halfway done for now.
Party started at 8, did not eat until 10:30. Starving! As was everyone. In the meantime many meaningful speeches were given. The community will truly miss Brad and expressed the warmest of welcomes for me. Speech! Christian (as I am know here, easier to say) introduce yourself. Luckily I had sort of practiced this so it went pretty well. After my speech, Isabel with tears still in her eyes from her speech, got up to say something else.
Translated roughly:
“Tristan’s Spanish is pretty good; just don’t ask him what time it is. He will give you a math problem. Instead of 10 minutes until 8, you will get 10 times eight!” Everyone got a big chuckle out of me using the wrong word for “until.” I was embarrassed. But Brad leaned over and told me “That means they like you.”
:)
July 24, 2010 Last day in my site until I am back for two years!
Packed up my gear into my backpack and headed to Cuenca for the day to explore a little bit with the others.
I got off the bus at the bus at the wrong stop and had a 40 minute walk to where we had to meet up. Not a big deal though, got to learn a little bit of Cuenca and see old retired gringo couples out for walks.
10pm, bus ride! It was much better this time around. However, there were still several times when I awoke feeling as if the bus was tipping over at high speeds. Thankfully the shades were shut and it was dark out, because I am sure we were swerving right next to huge cliffs.
July 25th, 2010 Ah, cayambe.
We finally arrived back in Cayambe about 10am, exhausted and in need of sleep in a real bed. I sleep on the bus, but it is not really sleep. It is more like a being knocked out by a punch or something like that. I always wake up sore and cranky and wanting to go back to sleep.
I snuck in the side door to avoid the impending hour long conversation with my family about my new sight. I just wanted to sleep. Fatal error, I flushed the toilet. As I leave the bathroom, Connor comes running upstairs.
“Hey man, everyone is coming to Oyacachi (his site) now. My futbol team is in the finals and we recruited Walter to play as a ringer.” He exclaimed.
“Sure, let me pack a jacket and camera.”
Glad I went. Oyacachi is a beautiful town of 600 people tucked away in a tiny valley in the middle of nowhere. Cell phones do not work there and the town has not has power for a month, yet life goes on. A beautiful cascade can be seen from the town and it is also known for its natural hot springs.
Connor’s team tied the game 2-2 in the last minute with a goal scored by Walter!
Afterwards we all went to the hot springs to relax. Connor is convinced there is natural lithium in the mineral-y rich hot springs of Oyacachi. After we got out of the water, I definitely understood what he meant.
We then walked across this rickety suspension bridge into town in search of a meal. We ate a traditional dish of rice, fried trout and soup. The trout was fantastic! It made me want to go fishing again. After dinner we said our goodbyes to Connor and headed off into the night for our 2 hour trek home.
I am pretty sure I was asleep before I had fully lain down in my bed.
July 26th, back to school
This morning I went to take out money from the ATM to pay my family for the upcoming weeks’ rent. Where is my ATM card (that I got just a week ago)? Hijo de puta! Well this sucks, it takes at least a week to get a new one and we are leaving for a weeklong trip this Sunday, super duper Tristan, and way to go. Luckily I had some cash I was saving to get my cowboy boots. So I pay the family with what cash I had. $20 left over to buy my boots tomorrow, and I will have $5 left to feed myself for the next 5 days or so… I am getting the damn boots.
July 27th, 2010
Waited all day for 5 o’clock and finally it came. Clint, Curlee and I all arrived at my house at 5:30pm sharp like I told Jose we would so he could take us to get the boots. However he had some stuff he had to do and we didn’t leave until around 6:30, no pasa nada. We spent the hour working with one of Walter’s friend’s English homework and this proved to be quite entertaining. At last Jose arrived and we hopped in the truck.
His cousin’s store is smaller than most American full bathrooms. On display were several models of boots. The biggest size he had for me to try on was a 43, about a 10 in men’s. This apparently is super big in Ecuador, haha.
After we had picked out the styles of boots we each wanted he took measurements of our feet. He commented that Clint’s feet were really wide and looked like a ducks.
He then drew up the contracts and we signed off and paid whatever we had on us. I happily gave him my $20. My custom handmade cowboy boots will cost me a total of $90 and completely worth going without the luxury of full meals for the next few days.
When we got home Carlota and Jose had to help install some sort of lighting fixture upstairs in one of the apartments above our house. We didn’t eat dinner until about 10pm, again no pasa nada. I spent that time teaching Walter, Ping and several of the neighbor kids the card game Texas hold’em. They absolutely loved the game! We started off with about 15 cents in pennies each, and by the end Ping had everyone’s money.
What I have taught/sort of taught since I have been here:
• English, mostly curse words or grammatical structure
• Some guitar
• America’s favorite gambling card game Texas Hold’em
• And hopefully helped improve the image of Americans in the minds of a few Ecuadorians (not that they think badly of us)
Ps. I am growing my beard and my host brother says I look like Bin Laden or Che Guevara. I am considering shaving.
http://www.parroquiabanos.gov.ec/banos/
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Some older pics and newer stories
July 20th, 2010
This morning we finished up the bus ride to Cuenca around 730am in a city none of us knew. So we just wondered around for awhile in search of Banco Guayaquil. We all needed to withdrawal cash for the week and since the PC banks with them, we do not get surcharged. After asking 6 different people, getting different answers each time, we finally arrived.
Then it was time to part ways and go to our sites. Curlee simply hopped in a cab and gave an address, her site is in Cuenca. Clint and I went to a tourism center to inquire on where to find the buses to head to Paute and Baños, respectively. The lady behind the counter was very helpful and showed us where to go on the map. And with that Clint and I parted ways and headed to our stops.
The bus ride to the center of Baños took about 25 minutes. There was lots of enjoyable scenery and some surprisingly nice houses, not quite what I was expecting. The bus headed out of town and then came to a big hill and the driver dropped down into a lower gear to make it up. I saw the big blue church come into view and figured that is probably the best place to get off.
When I got I off I noticed the incredible view the church has of Cuenca (I will post some pictures soon). I called Isabel, my new host mom, and she told me to wait at the church for her. The mid day sun was starting to come out and it was hot, not like Philly, it’s a dry heat here. After a few minutes she arrived and walked me back to the house. Isabel speaks a mile minute, I feel like I am missing a lot of valuable information when she speaks.
When we approach the house on the dirt road, I am very surprised how nice it looks, and then we got inside. Inside was spacious and nice. Upstairs we went until the last floor, the third, my floor. My room is spacious and has windows that look outside! It gets even better. I have my own bathroom, with a hot shower and the tap water is potable! Wait there is more, I find out later in the day that the house has wireless internet. I landed the Posh Corps. Copy and paste the link below to see what is next door to our house and where one of the sons works.
http://www.piedradeagua.com.ec/esp.html
My room!
This is less of the “survival” Peace Corps. So hopefully I can spend more time on helping the community rather than building new latrines and running from dangerous animals.
After a dinner which consisted of rice and beans, I was invited to attend a bible class. Sure, probably a good way to learn more Spanish, culture and give myself a good reputation. My grandfather, after hearing this said “after all the good lord has done for [me], [I] should probably go to bible class three times a day.” He has a valid point; I will make an effort to go to it every week.
July 21, 2010
Wake up, ate breakfast alone. Then did some of the assigned work we had for the week. Example, locate important things in your community on a map that you draw. Afterwards, unsure on what to do, I decided to just hope on bus and ride it until it got back to Baños. The whole process took about two and half hours.
The first part of the trip is all downhill, and a very steep downhill. Did the driver drive carefully and slow? Nope, he drove that bus like a formula one race car down that hill. It was like being on roller coaster with no seatbelt or foam around the metal bars. Guess I could have skipped the coffee this morning. I think in another life I was a dog. Not for my love of peeing on trees, but because I love going for rides in cars and looking at the scenery. I started to recognized places as we zoomed around Cuenca and a few other barrios. The city has a very European feel to it.
For dinner I helped make empanadas. But not the kind you are probably thinking of. The innards of these were solely rice and bananas. After frying them, we coated them with sugar. Absolutely delicious, but they are definitely a cause of severe diabetes if you eat more than two of them. Which, I did.
Here are some pictures from when we found out our sites!
All of us waiting to find out our sites!
Our language teachers!
This morning we finished up the bus ride to Cuenca around 730am in a city none of us knew. So we just wondered around for awhile in search of Banco Guayaquil. We all needed to withdrawal cash for the week and since the PC banks with them, we do not get surcharged. After asking 6 different people, getting different answers each time, we finally arrived.
Then it was time to part ways and go to our sites. Curlee simply hopped in a cab and gave an address, her site is in Cuenca. Clint and I went to a tourism center to inquire on where to find the buses to head to Paute and Baños, respectively. The lady behind the counter was very helpful and showed us where to go on the map. And with that Clint and I parted ways and headed to our stops.
The bus ride to the center of Baños took about 25 minutes. There was lots of enjoyable scenery and some surprisingly nice houses, not quite what I was expecting. The bus headed out of town and then came to a big hill and the driver dropped down into a lower gear to make it up. I saw the big blue church come into view and figured that is probably the best place to get off.
When I got I off I noticed the incredible view the church has of Cuenca (I will post some pictures soon). I called Isabel, my new host mom, and she told me to wait at the church for her. The mid day sun was starting to come out and it was hot, not like Philly, it’s a dry heat here. After a few minutes she arrived and walked me back to the house. Isabel speaks a mile minute, I feel like I am missing a lot of valuable information when she speaks.
When we approach the house on the dirt road, I am very surprised how nice it looks, and then we got inside. Inside was spacious and nice. Upstairs we went until the last floor, the third, my floor. My room is spacious and has windows that look outside! It gets even better. I have my own bathroom, with a hot shower and the tap water is potable! Wait there is more, I find out later in the day that the house has wireless internet. I landed the Posh Corps. Copy and paste the link below to see what is next door to our house and where one of the sons works.
http://www.piedradeagua.com.ec/esp.html
My room!This is less of the “survival” Peace Corps. So hopefully I can spend more time on helping the community rather than building new latrines and running from dangerous animals.
After a dinner which consisted of rice and beans, I was invited to attend a bible class. Sure, probably a good way to learn more Spanish, culture and give myself a good reputation. My grandfather, after hearing this said “after all the good lord has done for [me], [I] should probably go to bible class three times a day.” He has a valid point; I will make an effort to go to it every week.
July 21, 2010
Wake up, ate breakfast alone. Then did some of the assigned work we had for the week. Example, locate important things in your community on a map that you draw. Afterwards, unsure on what to do, I decided to just hope on bus and ride it until it got back to Baños. The whole process took about two and half hours.
The first part of the trip is all downhill, and a very steep downhill. Did the driver drive carefully and slow? Nope, he drove that bus like a formula one race car down that hill. It was like being on roller coaster with no seatbelt or foam around the metal bars. Guess I could have skipped the coffee this morning. I think in another life I was a dog. Not for my love of peeing on trees, but because I love going for rides in cars and looking at the scenery. I started to recognized places as we zoomed around Cuenca and a few other barrios. The city has a very European feel to it.
For dinner I helped make empanadas. But not the kind you are probably thinking of. The innards of these were solely rice and bananas. After frying them, we coated them with sugar. Absolutely delicious, but they are definitely a cause of severe diabetes if you eat more than two of them. Which, I did.
Here are some pictures from when we found out our sites!
All of us waiting to find out our sites!
Our language teachers!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Bus < Airplane
July 17th, 2010
Today my workshop group and I made marmalade! It was a surprisingly easy task. The best marmalade was by far the pineapple and carrot combination.
Afterwards a bunch of us took a trip to Otavalo, which on Saturdays has a huge open air market. This was like light to flies for gringos. And of course, with gringos (I am not a tourist, I live here now) around the prices go up. However, haggling is permitted and encouraged.
I found a very cool shirt like the indigenous people wear that I just had to have. The original price was $6, which is a hell of a deal compared to if you bought something like this in the states. But that did not stop me! I am a man on a mission, but more importantly I am man on tight budget. It was pretty easy to talk her down to $3. Which means she was still making profit off of it, so she must make a killing when she sells these to tourists at full price.
For lunch I ate a less than satisfying burger, but it also had ham on it, which was an interesting concept. All coffee here is instant. Have yet to see a percolator. After a few hours of wondering around the market we headed back on the bus ride. I slept the whole way; it is the closest man has come to time traveling.
It didn’t seem like much was going to happen tonight, so I locked myself in my room to play guitar for awhile. Around 8 o’clock, I got bored and went downstairs to see what the rest of the family was up too. Ping, Walter and Orlando asked me to come celebrate Juan Montalvo with them. Sure why not, could be interesting.
Juan María Montalvo Fiallos (April 13, 1832, Ambato – January 17, 1889, Paris) was an Ecuadorian author and essayist, generally thought to be one of Ecuador's best writers of the period. A political liberal, Montalvo's beliefs were marked by anti-clericism and a keen hatred for Ecuador's two caudillos that ruled during his life: Gabriel García Moreno and Ignacio de Veintemilla. After an issue of his book, El Cosmopolita, viciously attacked Moreno, Montalvo was exiled to Colombia, where he would write most of his later works. He was a dedicated champion of democracy, was said to have a lucid and inquisitive intellect and a strong, semi-romantic temperament. (Wikipedia)
Walter grabbed two wool ponchos which he and ping wore, and a cowhide drum which he carried. Next, Ping handed me his acoustic guitar and off went. Oh man, this is going to be fun, whatever it is.
We met friends of theirs in the main park of Cayambe. In total there were about 10-12 of us, 5 guitars, 1 mandolin, a pan flute, a drum and 4 pairs of the animal hair pants. Oh and a bottle of whiskey that got passed around a few times. At this point in time it seemed like everyone was waiting for something. I never found out what it was but after an hour we started walking down the middle of a street heading out of town (blocking one lane of traffic). Then the song broke out (we only played one all night, but the rhythm and lyrics varied). It was not terribly difficult to play on guitar, and one of the guys in the animal hair pants taught it to me.
We got a lot of stares at first from people as we paraded dancing, singing and playing music down the street. I thought it was because we were the only weirdos celebrating (turns out that is not the reason). About a half mile into our journey a much larger group of people heading the opposite way came into view. I recognized one of the men to be the suitor of one of the PC volunteers. When he saw me he had to look twice, in amazement or drunkenness not sure which. But no matter, because he insisted on pouring boxed wine (def not Black Box) down my throat while I still played. Good thing I had a water proof jacket on. The further out of town we headed, the more crowded it got.
Suddenly the group veers into a bar. Definition of bar: a place that sells beer and/or chicha. I saw Daniel another PC aspirante. He was a bit surprised to see me guitar in hand but before long was dancing around in our circle as we took over the room. He was there because his host mom was selling empanadas and invited him to come. Suddenly one of the women in our group was handed a bowl of chicha and a plate of pastries to serve us. Cool, the must be friends or something. After a while the group took to the streets again.
It was not a hundred yards before we passed 2 other groups and were in another bar. Then it dawned on me. If you have a band you get free drinks and sometimes food! Well hot dog, this festival rocks. The owner (presumed) of the bar came up to me as we were leaving with a drink in his hand. “Please, drink my beer. You are welcome here anytime gringo.” Then it hit me why we got more attention than other groups. Not only was I one of the few foreigners around, I was also playing, dancing and singing with a band.
So I decided I needed to step up my stage presence a little on the next walk. I led the group for a bit, doing some of my best Angus Young impressions http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4gNsRjHzV4&feature=related. I must say, definitely one of the best experiences I have had here.
We jammed for about four hours before we were all too tired. Thank the lord, my fingers nearly fell off. I was invited to do something similar to this in two weeks by one of the other guys. I think I have finally started to integrate.
Good night!
July 18th, Sunday fun day
Today I washed my clothes, yippie. Slightly more enjoyable this time around because I actually (kind of) knew what I was doing.
But before that fun, I was surprised during breakfast when my brother came in with a dead chicken, feathers and all. It scared the ba-jesus out of his 3 year old niece, I laughed. I figured it was what we would be eating for dinner (wrong). He asked me to help him feed the chickens, something I enjoy doing. So we went outside to the lot next door where most of the animals are. Side note, we have 70 chickens that live on the roof (used for food and to sell). So as I was tossing corn to the chickens (used for eggs) and El Capitan (used for kicking ass in the ring, he is 5-0) when I thought to myself, “the pigs sure are quiet.”
I am a curious fellow by nature, today I wished I wasn’t. When I looked over the wall into their pen I saw the three not-so-little pigs ripping through the carcass of the hen, feathers, feet and all. Step one; hold back vomit. Step two; keep watching to see if they eat feet. Yeah, they ate those as well. When the piggies were finished, the interior of their pen looked like someone force-fed a hand grenade to a chicken.
Dinner was a delish dish called Ceviche. I highly recommend this, simply a great and unchallenging dish. http://www.cookstr.com/recipes/ecuadorian-shrimp-ceviche here is a similar recipe!
Monday July 19, 2010
Today during our mid-training evaluations, we had a very special guest. The PC Regional Director for Latin America was in country for a week. He was a very honest man when he spoke about the faults of the Peace Corps. But was also very positive in how much he liked what we all were about to be doing. The way he spoke gave me confidence in the higher-ups of this organization. Not that I had not had confidence in them before, it is just that before this there was no face to the name.
The 1.5 hour bus ride from Cayambe to Quito was nothing compared to what lay ahead. The 10 hour ride from Quito to Cuenca was less than enjoyable. There were assigned seats on the bus, this we didn’t know (Curlee, Clinton and I). We were at the back of the bus all comfy, when the stewardess or whatever they are called on a bus came up and made us move to the front. I had to sit next to a shitty window that rattled and shook the entire way. At times it was quiet and others it drove me to the point of madness when it sounded like it was going to rattle off the bus.
Then there were times when the bus driver would take a turn to sharply and I am pretty sure at least three times only half the wheels were on the ground going around some hairpin turns.
If you come to visit me, take a plane. Unless that sounds like fun!
Today my workshop group and I made marmalade! It was a surprisingly easy task. The best marmalade was by far the pineapple and carrot combination.
Afterwards a bunch of us took a trip to Otavalo, which on Saturdays has a huge open air market. This was like light to flies for gringos. And of course, with gringos (I am not a tourist, I live here now) around the prices go up. However, haggling is permitted and encouraged.
I found a very cool shirt like the indigenous people wear that I just had to have. The original price was $6, which is a hell of a deal compared to if you bought something like this in the states. But that did not stop me! I am a man on a mission, but more importantly I am man on tight budget. It was pretty easy to talk her down to $3. Which means she was still making profit off of it, so she must make a killing when she sells these to tourists at full price.
For lunch I ate a less than satisfying burger, but it also had ham on it, which was an interesting concept. All coffee here is instant. Have yet to see a percolator. After a few hours of wondering around the market we headed back on the bus ride. I slept the whole way; it is the closest man has come to time traveling.
It didn’t seem like much was going to happen tonight, so I locked myself in my room to play guitar for awhile. Around 8 o’clock, I got bored and went downstairs to see what the rest of the family was up too. Ping, Walter and Orlando asked me to come celebrate Juan Montalvo with them. Sure why not, could be interesting.
Juan María Montalvo Fiallos (April 13, 1832, Ambato – January 17, 1889, Paris) was an Ecuadorian author and essayist, generally thought to be one of Ecuador's best writers of the period. A political liberal, Montalvo's beliefs were marked by anti-clericism and a keen hatred for Ecuador's two caudillos that ruled during his life: Gabriel García Moreno and Ignacio de Veintemilla. After an issue of his book, El Cosmopolita, viciously attacked Moreno, Montalvo was exiled to Colombia, where he would write most of his later works. He was a dedicated champion of democracy, was said to have a lucid and inquisitive intellect and a strong, semi-romantic temperament. (Wikipedia)
Walter grabbed two wool ponchos which he and ping wore, and a cowhide drum which he carried. Next, Ping handed me his acoustic guitar and off went. Oh man, this is going to be fun, whatever it is.
We met friends of theirs in the main park of Cayambe. In total there were about 10-12 of us, 5 guitars, 1 mandolin, a pan flute, a drum and 4 pairs of the animal hair pants. Oh and a bottle of whiskey that got passed around a few times. At this point in time it seemed like everyone was waiting for something. I never found out what it was but after an hour we started walking down the middle of a street heading out of town (blocking one lane of traffic). Then the song broke out (we only played one all night, but the rhythm and lyrics varied). It was not terribly difficult to play on guitar, and one of the guys in the animal hair pants taught it to me.
We got a lot of stares at first from people as we paraded dancing, singing and playing music down the street. I thought it was because we were the only weirdos celebrating (turns out that is not the reason). About a half mile into our journey a much larger group of people heading the opposite way came into view. I recognized one of the men to be the suitor of one of the PC volunteers. When he saw me he had to look twice, in amazement or drunkenness not sure which. But no matter, because he insisted on pouring boxed wine (def not Black Box) down my throat while I still played. Good thing I had a water proof jacket on. The further out of town we headed, the more crowded it got.
Suddenly the group veers into a bar. Definition of bar: a place that sells beer and/or chicha. I saw Daniel another PC aspirante. He was a bit surprised to see me guitar in hand but before long was dancing around in our circle as we took over the room. He was there because his host mom was selling empanadas and invited him to come. Suddenly one of the women in our group was handed a bowl of chicha and a plate of pastries to serve us. Cool, the must be friends or something. After a while the group took to the streets again.
It was not a hundred yards before we passed 2 other groups and were in another bar. Then it dawned on me. If you have a band you get free drinks and sometimes food! Well hot dog, this festival rocks. The owner (presumed) of the bar came up to me as we were leaving with a drink in his hand. “Please, drink my beer. You are welcome here anytime gringo.” Then it hit me why we got more attention than other groups. Not only was I one of the few foreigners around, I was also playing, dancing and singing with a band.
So I decided I needed to step up my stage presence a little on the next walk. I led the group for a bit, doing some of my best Angus Young impressions http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4gNsRjHzV4&feature=related. I must say, definitely one of the best experiences I have had here.
We jammed for about four hours before we were all too tired. Thank the lord, my fingers nearly fell off. I was invited to do something similar to this in two weeks by one of the other guys. I think I have finally started to integrate.
Good night!
July 18th, Sunday fun day
Today I washed my clothes, yippie. Slightly more enjoyable this time around because I actually (kind of) knew what I was doing.
But before that fun, I was surprised during breakfast when my brother came in with a dead chicken, feathers and all. It scared the ba-jesus out of his 3 year old niece, I laughed. I figured it was what we would be eating for dinner (wrong). He asked me to help him feed the chickens, something I enjoy doing. So we went outside to the lot next door where most of the animals are. Side note, we have 70 chickens that live on the roof (used for food and to sell). So as I was tossing corn to the chickens (used for eggs) and El Capitan (used for kicking ass in the ring, he is 5-0) when I thought to myself, “the pigs sure are quiet.”
I am a curious fellow by nature, today I wished I wasn’t. When I looked over the wall into their pen I saw the three not-so-little pigs ripping through the carcass of the hen, feathers, feet and all. Step one; hold back vomit. Step two; keep watching to see if they eat feet. Yeah, they ate those as well. When the piggies were finished, the interior of their pen looked like someone force-fed a hand grenade to a chicken.
Dinner was a delish dish called Ceviche. I highly recommend this, simply a great and unchallenging dish. http://www.cookstr.com/recipes/ecuadorian-shrimp-ceviche here is a similar recipe!
Monday July 19, 2010
Today during our mid-training evaluations, we had a very special guest. The PC Regional Director for Latin America was in country for a week. He was a very honest man when he spoke about the faults of the Peace Corps. But was also very positive in how much he liked what we all were about to be doing. The way he spoke gave me confidence in the higher-ups of this organization. Not that I had not had confidence in them before, it is just that before this there was no face to the name.
The 1.5 hour bus ride from Cayambe to Quito was nothing compared to what lay ahead. The 10 hour ride from Quito to Cuenca was less than enjoyable. There were assigned seats on the bus, this we didn’t know (Curlee, Clinton and I). We were at the back of the bus all comfy, when the stewardess or whatever they are called on a bus came up and made us move to the front. I had to sit next to a shitty window that rattled and shook the entire way. At times it was quiet and others it drove me to the point of madness when it sounded like it was going to rattle off the bus.
Then there were times when the bus driver would take a turn to sharply and I am pretty sure at least three times only half the wheels were on the ground going around some hairpin turns.
If you come to visit me, take a plane. Unless that sounds like fun!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A big event
July 14th, 2010
My host mother had to go to Guayaquil for a few days; her niece is in the hospital. So this left me, Walter and Jose alone in the house for a few days. If you take one wheel off the car, it breaks down. The kitchen has come to a standstill and confusion ensues every meal time. The first morning after she had gone, I found Jose in the kitchen making juice and we went through our usual morning ritual hi-how-are-yas. However, his response was not his usual “bien.” Today he was sad, because his wife was gone and we are “mal cocinas” or bad cooks. “We are at war with the kitchen” was another popular phrase for the next few days.
We definitely ate less and poorer quality food in Carlota’s absence but we did not starve! And luckily I was not fed cat. Although every time I ate a meat I was told it was cat. My response would either be, “meow” or “this is one big cat, and it has the rib of a cow!”
July 15, 2010 the night before a life changing day.
There is one thing on all 66 of minds today, and it wasn’t home cooked American food. It was our site assignments. Tomorrow, we will find out where we will live and what we will be doing for the next 2 years of our lives.
It was all anyone could talk about today and with good reason. Everyone has different wants and wishes for their sites, but we all want to know, and we want to know now. We find out at 8:30am tomorrow, or 9:30am eastern time.
I am trying not to picture or hope for a particular location or job description. I do not want to be disappointed. It would not be to my benefit to go into a strange place with a negative point of view before I even got there.
I will certainly have trouble sleeping tonight! Well not too much trouble, seeing as how I can fall asleep on a bus full of smelly loud people.
July 16th, 2010 the day we find out where we will live and work for the next two years.
We all arrive at the same compound we played futbol at last Friday at 8am. Everyone was a little nervous, even if they did not say so. I certainly was. We were asked by one of the staff members to come around back of the compound to one of the fields.
A huge outline of Ecuador and its provinces lay before us created by an array of colored rose petals. One by one, our names were pulled from a hat and we were told our province. After a name was called, that person’s language facilitator walked them (usually skipping!) to their province. My name was called about halfway through. I was lead out to the province Azuay (near Cuenca) http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=es&gl=ec&biw=1440&bih=708&q=Ba%C3%B1os+Azuay+Ecuador&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=NThCTOjvAcK88gbO8PQN&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&ved=0CAoQ_AU (copy and paste the link into your browser to see my site). There ended up being three of us in the province, me, Clinton and Curlee.
After everyone had been placed in their provinces it was time to move inside and find out more information about our sites. We were divided up into the three main groups of Youth and Families (mine), public health and HIV. In our respective rooms there were power point presentations with the name of our towns and our job descriptions! My town is Baños! The organization that I will be working with is Fundacion Pastoral Social de Baños Virgen de Guadalupe (FUPASBA). My counterpart is Padre Vicente Zaruma. Yes, that is Father Vicente Zaruma. The city has about 12,000 inhabitants.
Here is my job description:
• Family Disintegration: Help in the Senior Citizen Home, the Infant Nursery, and help the social workers that are part of the Center for the Protection of Human Rights-INFA.
• Lack of employment and poverty: Help identify and train the community members on different business alternatives that might be feasible in the community. Support the workshop “tailoring/Dress Making,” the different entrepreneurship trainings organized by the Pastoral Ministry of Baños and support the Tourism Plan of the Community.
• Help in the prevention of violence and abuse: installation of CPD-INFA in 2009, the Canton Council for Childhood and Adolescence made a strategic plan to protect children’s and adolescent’s rights in Baños. The parish committee for Childhood and Adolescence completed a diagnostic beginning in the year 2010.
• Perform activities for the youth: form youth groups, dance groups, public awareness campaigns on different topics, development of a strategic plan on behalf of the Parish Committee for Childhood and Adolescence, Proposal for an Art and Culture Center (approved by the vestry in 2009)
The community has also identified the following secondary activities (as if the first few didn’t seem daunting enough!)
• Assist in the development of projects and strategic plans for the parish
• Help with school gardens and teach agricultural techniques
• Teach English or ICT/computers in the elementary schools
• Negotiate economic assistance for community projects
So, it seems like I am going to be rather busy for the next 26 months of my life. I also found out that my new host family there is awesome, which is comforting.
Now I am sure you are wondering, how they pick sites for us. Well it is based off of your program, language level, personality and what the community requests. Here is what the Padre requested (translated from Spanish).
It is important that the volunteer is not a vegetarian because meat is an essencial part of the diet in Baños, we also eat a lot of cuy. Obviously it would be better if the volunteer was catholic, if not they should at least be respectful of the communities traditions. Also, the volunteer should have a good grip of the language.
The volunteer will work most of the time on his/her own and should have the professionalism to complete tasks without supervision. It is also important that they have initiative and demonstrate confidence at the same time (in the beginning) community members will not go to him with projects or other ideas and the volunteer must actively seek to engage in the Labors of the various people in the community.
There is a “great” volunteer there now who I will meet on my upcoming week long trip this Monday. It sounds like I have some big shoes to fill.
I forgot the mention; it takes about 13 hours by bus to get to Baños from Cayambe. This will be an interesting week.
My host mother had to go to Guayaquil for a few days; her niece is in the hospital. So this left me, Walter and Jose alone in the house for a few days. If you take one wheel off the car, it breaks down. The kitchen has come to a standstill and confusion ensues every meal time. The first morning after she had gone, I found Jose in the kitchen making juice and we went through our usual morning ritual hi-how-are-yas. However, his response was not his usual “bien.” Today he was sad, because his wife was gone and we are “mal cocinas” or bad cooks. “We are at war with the kitchen” was another popular phrase for the next few days.
We definitely ate less and poorer quality food in Carlota’s absence but we did not starve! And luckily I was not fed cat. Although every time I ate a meat I was told it was cat. My response would either be, “meow” or “this is one big cat, and it has the rib of a cow!”
July 15, 2010 the night before a life changing day.
There is one thing on all 66 of minds today, and it wasn’t home cooked American food. It was our site assignments. Tomorrow, we will find out where we will live and what we will be doing for the next 2 years of our lives.
It was all anyone could talk about today and with good reason. Everyone has different wants and wishes for their sites, but we all want to know, and we want to know now. We find out at 8:30am tomorrow, or 9:30am eastern time.
I am trying not to picture or hope for a particular location or job description. I do not want to be disappointed. It would not be to my benefit to go into a strange place with a negative point of view before I even got there.
I will certainly have trouble sleeping tonight! Well not too much trouble, seeing as how I can fall asleep on a bus full of smelly loud people.
July 16th, 2010 the day we find out where we will live and work for the next two years.
We all arrive at the same compound we played futbol at last Friday at 8am. Everyone was a little nervous, even if they did not say so. I certainly was. We were asked by one of the staff members to come around back of the compound to one of the fields.
A huge outline of Ecuador and its provinces lay before us created by an array of colored rose petals. One by one, our names were pulled from a hat and we were told our province. After a name was called, that person’s language facilitator walked them (usually skipping!) to their province. My name was called about halfway through. I was lead out to the province Azuay (near Cuenca) http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=es&gl=ec&biw=1440&bih=708&q=Ba%C3%B1os+Azuay+Ecuador&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=NThCTOjvAcK88gbO8PQN&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&ved=0CAoQ_AU (copy and paste the link into your browser to see my site). There ended up being three of us in the province, me, Clinton and Curlee.
After everyone had been placed in their provinces it was time to move inside and find out more information about our sites. We were divided up into the three main groups of Youth and Families (mine), public health and HIV. In our respective rooms there were power point presentations with the name of our towns and our job descriptions! My town is Baños! The organization that I will be working with is Fundacion Pastoral Social de Baños Virgen de Guadalupe (FUPASBA). My counterpart is Padre Vicente Zaruma. Yes, that is Father Vicente Zaruma. The city has about 12,000 inhabitants.
Here is my job description:
• Family Disintegration: Help in the Senior Citizen Home, the Infant Nursery, and help the social workers that are part of the Center for the Protection of Human Rights-INFA.
• Lack of employment and poverty: Help identify and train the community members on different business alternatives that might be feasible in the community. Support the workshop “tailoring/Dress Making,” the different entrepreneurship trainings organized by the Pastoral Ministry of Baños and support the Tourism Plan of the Community.
• Help in the prevention of violence and abuse: installation of CPD-INFA in 2009, the Canton Council for Childhood and Adolescence made a strategic plan to protect children’s and adolescent’s rights in Baños. The parish committee for Childhood and Adolescence completed a diagnostic beginning in the year 2010.
• Perform activities for the youth: form youth groups, dance groups, public awareness campaigns on different topics, development of a strategic plan on behalf of the Parish Committee for Childhood and Adolescence, Proposal for an Art and Culture Center (approved by the vestry in 2009)
The community has also identified the following secondary activities (as if the first few didn’t seem daunting enough!)
• Assist in the development of projects and strategic plans for the parish
• Help with school gardens and teach agricultural techniques
• Teach English or ICT/computers in the elementary schools
• Negotiate economic assistance for community projects
So, it seems like I am going to be rather busy for the next 26 months of my life. I also found out that my new host family there is awesome, which is comforting.
Now I am sure you are wondering, how they pick sites for us. Well it is based off of your program, language level, personality and what the community requests. Here is what the Padre requested (translated from Spanish).
It is important that the volunteer is not a vegetarian because meat is an essencial part of the diet in Baños, we also eat a lot of cuy. Obviously it would be better if the volunteer was catholic, if not they should at least be respectful of the communities traditions. Also, the volunteer should have a good grip of the language.
The volunteer will work most of the time on his/her own and should have the professionalism to complete tasks without supervision. It is also important that they have initiative and demonstrate confidence at the same time (in the beginning) community members will not go to him with projects or other ideas and the volunteer must actively seek to engage in the Labors of the various people in the community.
There is a “great” volunteer there now who I will meet on my upcoming week long trip this Monday. It sounds like I have some big shoes to fill.
I forgot the mention; it takes about 13 hours by bus to get to Baños from Cayambe. This will be an interesting week.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The wild west isn´t dead, it just went to Ecuador
July 9th, Friday is a futbol day
Every group of aspirantees (what we are before we swear in as actual volunteers) had to come up with uniforms for a friendly futbol tournament. My group was called “Los Increibles” (like the movie The Incredibles). Our uniforms were solid red with gold trimming. We also had the option of getting a small sponsorship logo to go right over our heart on the jersey. The store that designed our jerseys had 30 or so choices, one of them being Pabst Blue Ribbon (cheap Milwaukee beer). So naturally that was chosen. When we arrived the day before, we were a little surprised by the layout of our jerseys. The Pabst Blue Ribbon logo was huge and the center point of the front of our jerseys, oh well. So it looked like our team was The Incredible Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Our team went 2-2 which was pretty good for us. It was a pretty fun day overall. We got to meet some more volunteers and ask them questions about their sites, lives and what illnesses they have contracted over their time of service.
We got a chance afterwards to have a couple beers with some of the volunteers who stuck around and got the “real” stories. Most were really funny and a few were a little scary but most of those were very isolated and rare incidences.
July 10th
Today our workshop went to an organic farm in a town called Tabacundo. Today’s agenda; make cheese! I was very surprised how easy it is to make the favorite local cheese, Queso Fresco. The following (not exact) way to make the cheese uses unpasteurized milk (you can use pasteurized).
1. Bring milk (between 30-75 Liters) to a near boil for 10-15 min while consistently stirring. (Temperature should be around 63C or 144F)
2. Add the enzymes
3. Cover with cloth and lid for 20-30 min (or until cheese has nearly formed on the bottom of the pot)
4. Mix by hand once, then recover
5. Separate the cheese from the liquid (whey) and place on a tray
6. Mix in salt (to help harden the cheese and some flavor) and other spices your little heart desires’.
7. Pour the excess liquid from the tray back into the original pot (this liquid is good pig food and laxative FYI)
8. Form cheese in molds (the molds are a kind of plastic like PVC)
9. Let sit for 15 minutes
10. Enjoy plain, on toast and/or with jelly!
Pictures are out of order... think of it as a matching game!
Afterwards we got a tour of the farm. Organic farming is a new movement taking place in Ecuador. At Don Edwin’s farm they use only natural kinds of pesticides, for example they grow this one kind of bush that bugs apparently hate, all over the farm. They also have a huge cement pool to collect rain water which in turn is used to water the plants on days where there is no rain.
They also use organic fertilizer, which comes from cuys (guinea pigs) and rabbits. These little guys are kept in baskets that hover above straw so it is easy to collect the manure. Cuy farming is a great business we were told. They do not require much food or care. They reproduce like mad, and inbreeding apparently is not an issue. The average cuy sells for around $7-8. So there is a very good ROI (return on investment). Had to throw that acronym in there to prove I learned something in college.
(This lemon tree produces lemons all year long!)
Don Edwin offered us a ride to the bus stop in his old beat up blue Ford pickup truck. It seemed like something straight out of a country song. A bunch of us jumped in the back and we headed out. I was humming “we can take a ride in my big green tractor” with the wind on my face, when I was abruptly taken from my moment of bliss by a terrifying site.
A man, head hanging and body soaked in blood was being escorted down the hills towards us by a horde of men with their faces covered. Some of the men carried machetes, while the bloody faced man carried the look of a man who knew the end was near. The blue Ford didn’t slow down (to the relief of its passengers) and split the mob in half as we went through. At this point I remembered hearing stories of some small towns that deal with criminals on their own. So I figured this guy had to be a theif or something.
Sirens and a white pickup marked Policía came flying of the hill and Don flagged it down. Some words were exchanged, and from what it seemed, he was telling the police to turn around and not worry about it. When he dropped us off at the bus stop, he looked at our puzzled faces and simply said “ladron,” the Spanish word for thief. No further explanation was needed I suppose.
Later that day I was informed that in indigenous towns, they have the legal right to deal with criminals collectively as a town. However this was not an indigenous town. It’s a larger sized city. So right or wrong, it happened and the ladron’s fate is unknown.
I came home and took a long nap (slept right through the Germany/Uruguay game). When I woke up I found Walter, Ping and Orlando hanging out in one of the families trucks. They told me to hop in and let’s go! Walter turned the corner on to the main road and then into a gas station where he requested a dollar from everyone.
Original dialogue was in Spanish and has been translated for your convenience.
“Walter, where are going?”
“We are going to Quito for dancing and girls!” (We aren’t allowed to go to Quito and it is a 1.5 hour car ride away)
“I’m not going to Quito, I can’t, and I am not allowed to.”
“haha, no, we are gonna cruise the town.”
It is comforting sometimes to know that some things span cultures worldwide. For example, getting pissed at screaming kids during an important sporting match on TV and cruising town in a car when you have nothing better to do. So we did just that, blasted reggae and tried to look cool. After awhile we started to drive outside of the main part of the city, down shitty roads into a barrio (neighborhood) I had never been before. Suddenly I saw the other family pickup parked on the roadside with Carlota, Jose and Christina (6 year old niece) sharing a plate of food in the cab. We parked the car and kept the stereo blasting the traditional party music we changed it to. Carlota then went and purchased a heaping plate of beans from one of the roadside food stands. These beans (larger than normal beans and with an edible shell) were adorned with a mild hot sauce. This is a traditional dish I was informed. Then they asked if I wanted to try chicha, “sure, why not.”
Chicha I later found out is delicious juice made from corn, and then mixed with homemade liquor. And for some reason they use coconut shells to dip into a bucket and serve the hot brew. This was not a knock down and drag you home mix, thank god.
After our little road side dinner we went home and hung out for awhile before I called it a night.
July 11, 2010 Another Sunday and still no church.
Despite the pictures of Jesus that are all over the house, my family does not seem to go to church ever. This morning we Walter had another soccer game at 10am, in which he scored 3 goals! So that was a lot of fun to watch. We rushed home (once again in the back of a truck) and I met up with some PC people to watch the World Cup Final, and boy was it a good game!
The cock fight, once again didn’t happen . I feel like an 8 year old kid that has to wait for Christmas morning. Blah, maybe next weekend.
I have just noticed a lot of men here wear cowboy boots. Since we are trying to integrate into society, I am thinking about purchasing a pair (there is a town nearby that specializes in leather goods). Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts! (it is also a secret test to see if you guys read all this junk)
The sheep wanted to play futbol too!
Every group of aspirantees (what we are before we swear in as actual volunteers) had to come up with uniforms for a friendly futbol tournament. My group was called “Los Increibles” (like the movie The Incredibles). Our uniforms were solid red with gold trimming. We also had the option of getting a small sponsorship logo to go right over our heart on the jersey. The store that designed our jerseys had 30 or so choices, one of them being Pabst Blue Ribbon (cheap Milwaukee beer). So naturally that was chosen. When we arrived the day before, we were a little surprised by the layout of our jerseys. The Pabst Blue Ribbon logo was huge and the center point of the front of our jerseys, oh well. So it looked like our team was The Incredible Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Our team went 2-2 which was pretty good for us. It was a pretty fun day overall. We got to meet some more volunteers and ask them questions about their sites, lives and what illnesses they have contracted over their time of service.
We got a chance afterwards to have a couple beers with some of the volunteers who stuck around and got the “real” stories. Most were really funny and a few were a little scary but most of those were very isolated and rare incidences.
July 10th
Today our workshop went to an organic farm in a town called Tabacundo. Today’s agenda; make cheese! I was very surprised how easy it is to make the favorite local cheese, Queso Fresco. The following (not exact) way to make the cheese uses unpasteurized milk (you can use pasteurized).
1. Bring milk (between 30-75 Liters) to a near boil for 10-15 min while consistently stirring. (Temperature should be around 63C or 144F)
2. Add the enzymes
3. Cover with cloth and lid for 20-30 min (or until cheese has nearly formed on the bottom of the pot)
4. Mix by hand once, then recover
5. Separate the cheese from the liquid (whey) and place on a tray
6. Mix in salt (to help harden the cheese and some flavor) and other spices your little heart desires’.
7. Pour the excess liquid from the tray back into the original pot (this liquid is good pig food and laxative FYI)
8. Form cheese in molds (the molds are a kind of plastic like PVC)
9. Let sit for 15 minutes
10. Enjoy plain, on toast and/or with jelly!
Pictures are out of order... think of it as a matching game!
Afterwards we got a tour of the farm. Organic farming is a new movement taking place in Ecuador. At Don Edwin’s farm they use only natural kinds of pesticides, for example they grow this one kind of bush that bugs apparently hate, all over the farm. They also have a huge cement pool to collect rain water which in turn is used to water the plants on days where there is no rain.
They also use organic fertilizer, which comes from cuys (guinea pigs) and rabbits. These little guys are kept in baskets that hover above straw so it is easy to collect the manure. Cuy farming is a great business we were told. They do not require much food or care. They reproduce like mad, and inbreeding apparently is not an issue. The average cuy sells for around $7-8. So there is a very good ROI (return on investment). Had to throw that acronym in there to prove I learned something in college.
(This lemon tree produces lemons all year long!)
Don Edwin offered us a ride to the bus stop in his old beat up blue Ford pickup truck. It seemed like something straight out of a country song. A bunch of us jumped in the back and we headed out. I was humming “we can take a ride in my big green tractor” with the wind on my face, when I was abruptly taken from my moment of bliss by a terrifying site.
A man, head hanging and body soaked in blood was being escorted down the hills towards us by a horde of men with their faces covered. Some of the men carried machetes, while the bloody faced man carried the look of a man who knew the end was near. The blue Ford didn’t slow down (to the relief of its passengers) and split the mob in half as we went through. At this point I remembered hearing stories of some small towns that deal with criminals on their own. So I figured this guy had to be a theif or something.
Sirens and a white pickup marked Policía came flying of the hill and Don flagged it down. Some words were exchanged, and from what it seemed, he was telling the police to turn around and not worry about it. When he dropped us off at the bus stop, he looked at our puzzled faces and simply said “ladron,” the Spanish word for thief. No further explanation was needed I suppose.
Later that day I was informed that in indigenous towns, they have the legal right to deal with criminals collectively as a town. However this was not an indigenous town. It’s a larger sized city. So right or wrong, it happened and the ladron’s fate is unknown.
I came home and took a long nap (slept right through the Germany/Uruguay game). When I woke up I found Walter, Ping and Orlando hanging out in one of the families trucks. They told me to hop in and let’s go! Walter turned the corner on to the main road and then into a gas station where he requested a dollar from everyone.
Original dialogue was in Spanish and has been translated for your convenience.
“Walter, where are going?”
“We are going to Quito for dancing and girls!” (We aren’t allowed to go to Quito and it is a 1.5 hour car ride away)
“I’m not going to Quito, I can’t, and I am not allowed to.”
“haha, no, we are gonna cruise the town.”
It is comforting sometimes to know that some things span cultures worldwide. For example, getting pissed at screaming kids during an important sporting match on TV and cruising town in a car when you have nothing better to do. So we did just that, blasted reggae and tried to look cool. After awhile we started to drive outside of the main part of the city, down shitty roads into a barrio (neighborhood) I had never been before. Suddenly I saw the other family pickup parked on the roadside with Carlota, Jose and Christina (6 year old niece) sharing a plate of food in the cab. We parked the car and kept the stereo blasting the traditional party music we changed it to. Carlota then went and purchased a heaping plate of beans from one of the roadside food stands. These beans (larger than normal beans and with an edible shell) were adorned with a mild hot sauce. This is a traditional dish I was informed. Then they asked if I wanted to try chicha, “sure, why not.”
Chicha I later found out is delicious juice made from corn, and then mixed with homemade liquor. And for some reason they use coconut shells to dip into a bucket and serve the hot brew. This was not a knock down and drag you home mix, thank god.
After our little road side dinner we went home and hung out for awhile before I called it a night.
July 11, 2010 Another Sunday and still no church.
Despite the pictures of Jesus that are all over the house, my family does not seem to go to church ever. This morning we Walter had another soccer game at 10am, in which he scored 3 goals! So that was a lot of fun to watch. We rushed home (once again in the back of a truck) and I met up with some PC people to watch the World Cup Final, and boy was it a good game!
The cock fight, once again didn’t happen . I feel like an 8 year old kid that has to wait for Christmas morning. Blah, maybe next weekend.
I have just noticed a lot of men here wear cowboy boots. Since we are trying to integrate into society, I am thinking about purchasing a pair (there is a town nearby that specializes in leather goods). Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts! (it is also a secret test to see if you guys read all this junk)
The sheep wanted to play futbol too!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Life and such
July 6, 2010
Typical meals:
•Breakfast: Freshly blended juice (orange, tomate del arbol, babaco or melon), instant coffee, pansito (toasted croissant type thing with cheese) and an egg (fried, hardboiled, and hardboiled with a soft gooey center)
•Lunch: some kind of light broth soup with potatoes meat and some veggies, main course almost always has rice and potatoes and some cut up veggies. The meat is the part that changes. Options are (not that I get to pick, it is whatever the house or the restaurant has) pork, beef, chicken, rooster, bull, cuy (guinea pig), hot dog, fish and rabbit.
•Dinner: pretty much the same general ingredients but the style in which they are cooked and presented varies. After dinner we usually have agua remedia, to help with digestion and other internal problems. Seems to work well, if anything it is more water to drink.
My family never drinks any kind of liquid during dinner, I find this odd. Apparently it is a cultural thing. I barely made it through tonight’s dinner of three boiled potatoes (size of baseballs) with no toppings, cooked meat and corn, with a drink. I don’t know how they do it. It felt like trying to eat a whole packet of saltine crackers without water. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining about the food, it is great, I just like to have some kind of liquid to wash it down.
New stuff I have eaten:
•Pig intestines (so it uncooked first… looked the same after cooking)
•Pig heart (better than the intestines)
•Chicken stomach (miles ahead of pig organs in the taste good race)
•Parts of one of our roosters that El Capitan (the good fighter) killed in the yard
•Babaco (it is a fruit)
•Tomate del arbol (also a fruit)
I am sure I will be trying more stuff soon. My host dad keeps teasing me that we are going to eat a cat the neighbor has. It will probably end up on a plate in front of me someday escorted by a healthy serving of rice and hopefully a drink. Oh well.
Bien provecho!
Typical meals:
•Breakfast: Freshly blended juice (orange, tomate del arbol, babaco or melon), instant coffee, pansito (toasted croissant type thing with cheese) and an egg (fried, hardboiled, and hardboiled with a soft gooey center)
•Lunch: some kind of light broth soup with potatoes meat and some veggies, main course almost always has rice and potatoes and some cut up veggies. The meat is the part that changes. Options are (not that I get to pick, it is whatever the house or the restaurant has) pork, beef, chicken, rooster, bull, cuy (guinea pig), hot dog, fish and rabbit.
•Dinner: pretty much the same general ingredients but the style in which they are cooked and presented varies. After dinner we usually have agua remedia, to help with digestion and other internal problems. Seems to work well, if anything it is more water to drink.
My family never drinks any kind of liquid during dinner, I find this odd. Apparently it is a cultural thing. I barely made it through tonight’s dinner of three boiled potatoes (size of baseballs) with no toppings, cooked meat and corn, with a drink. I don’t know how they do it. It felt like trying to eat a whole packet of saltine crackers without water. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining about the food, it is great, I just like to have some kind of liquid to wash it down.
New stuff I have eaten:
•Pig intestines (so it uncooked first… looked the same after cooking)
•Pig heart (better than the intestines)
•Chicken stomach (miles ahead of pig organs in the taste good race)
•Parts of one of our roosters that El Capitan (the good fighter) killed in the yard
•Babaco (it is a fruit)
•Tomate del arbol (also a fruit)
I am sure I will be trying more stuff soon. My host dad keeps teasing me that we are going to eat a cat the neighbor has. It will probably end up on a plate in front of me someday escorted by a healthy serving of rice and hopefully a drink. Oh well.
Bien provecho!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
God bless America
July 2nd, 2010 A lovely Friday
Field trip! Today my group (5 people total) teamed up with three other groups for a cultural trip to Peguche.
The traditional Quechuan woman demonstrated some of their trades and techniques for us. It was simply fascinating. Wool hats, blankets and other clothing. I thought sheep shed wool sweaters, apparently I was mislead by childhood cartoons.
The woman had a basket of recently sheared wool (still dirty). We were all given a small piece to sift through and pick out the pieces of dirt, small twigs and maybe pieces of excrement. Luckily, my piece didn’t come from that end of the sheep. After we finished our task at a fraction of the speed one of them could have done it, we watched the next part. Next, they used two pieces of what looked like Velcro attached to wood too fluff up the wool.
Now comes the part that takes a real talent. They took the fluffy wool and put it on an upright piece of wood and meticulously spun it around a pencil thick piece of wood to create string. A few of the girls tried to emulate it, but understandable had a very hard time. This was apparently the really old fashioned way to do it. So we moved over to the more advanced wooden machine with a giant wheel at one end.
Amateurs need not apply.
They also showed us how to make cornmeal and aji (hot sauce).
We also danced a traditional dance and I was asked to join in on the other guitar present to help play some music for the dancers.
The dance session concluded and we were all individually blessed by one of the women. She took a bowl of water with flowers and patted some on our head while speaking in Quechua.
We walked to the cascade at Peguche, only a 25 minute walk from the house of Quechuan family. Some people brought their bathing suits in anticipation of a good swim (I did not, but likely I had quick dry under wear! Shout out to Gen and Eric!) Walking through a beautiful stone pathway covered by the canopy of the rainforest we approached the verge and into view came the cascade.
What a sight, but the first thing I noticed was lack of places to take a dip. That did not discourage the 5 or so people, me included, from taking a dip. Refreshed. No towel. Not a problem, one of our professors let me use his after he was finished. The Peace Corps. staff is really great, not just for lending wet Americans towels, but also for being great teachers and friends.
Nothing like putting jeans on when you are still a little wet, not the best feeling. Sucked it up and moved along.
Back in the little touristy court yard area entrance to the cascade stood a welcoming bar. Sure, we have time for a beer! I laughed as I noticed the familiar figure of Kokopelli etched in one of the bars glass windows. I wonder how many people realize that symbol is out of place? Most people probably don’t even notice it, the Heineken beer can wind chime sticks out a little more.
The bus rides here are a lot of fun. Ecuador does not have rolling hills, they have rolling mountains. Really gorgeous scenery here.
The rest of the night I spent hanging out with the family in our living room chatting about this and that. I had my first gardening class (had a choice of dancing, crafts, cooking, music and gardening) the next morning early and didn’t want to be too tired.
July 3rd, Saturday
Class consisted of mixing terra firma and whatever poop people brought (cow or guinea pig) to make good soil for planting. We planted radishes in a tire and cut up water bottles. Pretty cool, should be ready in three weeks. At this altitude things grow at about half the speed they would at sea level due to lack of oxygen.
Finished up early and had time to run to a restaurant to catch the rest of the Argentina world cup game. They got spanked by the Germans, bummer. Then it was time to go back to the house to watch the next game with the family. Again, South America was defeated. Only one team left from this soccer breathing continent!
Took a quick nap.
I was awoken by a phone call from another volunteer (lives in another town) who was in Cayambe wondering if there was anything cool to do here. “Sure, let me call you back in 5.” I asked my host brother and he told me we were heading to another bull riding event (of course!). So we picked up my friend in the family truck and headed to the square.
Today for one reason or another we got VIP treatment. We were on the same stable-er platform as the announcer and people drinking wine from a bottle (rare). We enjoyed the spectacle of amateur bullfighters and the two dumb gringo tourists who were in the rink for awhile, until... Snap! A bull blew out his right hind knee (I had a lot of sympathy for the bull, having blown out my knee before). Just like a wounded soldier, the bull still trudged on trying to complete his task walking on the leg. The announcer instantly boomed of the loud speaker to leave to bull alone while they tried to get it out of the arena. It can be a cruel sport, but the Ecuadorians are not cruel about it.
Dinner time! Connor (the previous volunteer who lived with the family) and I made burritos for the whole family. We even made guacamole which came out pretty darn good! The family enjoyed the dish; however I think we enjoyed it more since we had seconds!
After dinner it was time to head back to the square where the rodeo was held for the night’s festivities. Since we had left they had erected (hehe) a stage and the vendors (beer, liquor and food on sticks) had moved in. The opening act was a typical Hollywood equation. Big boobed singer in a skimpy outfit who can’t sing + flamboyantly gay back up dancers = money. The second act, no frills added, kicked ass. Just a bunch of guys with their instruments who know how to play them. The night went on as such, act after act, beer after beer, until my $7 dwindled to the $1 reserved for the cab home.
Slept like a baby.
July 4th, Happy birthday USA!
Woke up at 8, parade time (not for Independence day )! Stuck around ‘til 11 when the time came for me to bugger off to party with my fellow Americans. Picked up hotdog buns and ketchup to contribute to the fun. I had 30 minutes to kill before I had to meet up with my group mates to catch the bus, so I did what everyone else would. Blasted Bruce Springsteen’s “born in the USA” and Zac Brown’s “Chicken fried” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4ujS1er1r0 (copy and paste the link if you havent heard the song) and other patriotic songs in my room.
The rain did not damper the spirits when we arrived at the party (in the middle of a soccer field, but of course). However we were having a tough time getting the grill going, the charcoal (homemade) did not want to light. After several failed attempts. I asked a nice local couple if they would help us. Ten minutes later, we had full blown charcoal burning fire. They were served the first two hamburgers, naturally. Then came kick ball, which was hilarious due to mild inebriation, inadequate footwear and mud. The rule for the team in the field was you had to have a drink in hand at all times, this made fielding and catching balls very difficult. Good times. This was probably quite the spectacle for anyone who saw us. Which was luckily not too many people because we were tucked away in a small corner of an even tinnier town.
Home by 8, asleep 10 minutes later. Buenas noches!
Friday, July 2, 2010
They dont say ¨cheese¨ during pictues... they say ¨whiskey¨
June 29th, Tuesday
The class work is interesting to me and my fellow volunteers; however I am sure you wouldn’t find it all that interesting. There, I talked a little bit about what we do during the day.
As sun the crested the edge of the earth (my attempt at being poetic)… I was informed that we had to go to the bull riding event. Laundry was put on hold.
Walter (my host brother, 21), Ping (no he’s not asian, 16), Orlando (age unknown, presumably older than the author) and myself (age 23, but still laughs at farts) walked around the bleachers looking for a ‘safe’ ladder to climb up to view the event. The “safe” ladder we found still made me feel uneasy climbing. The old planks of wood that were lashed together with safety wire that served as our platform also made me feel a bit worrisome. Oh well, you only die once I suppose.
Once atop the outer rim of the square arena, I didn’t see what I expected to see. A bunch of guys (30 or so) of all ages just hanging out like they were at a park, some had bull fighting capes others had lassos and others were sharing beers. The loud speaker kicked on and the familiar voice of Garth Brooks was echoing in the arena. This made me laugh out loud and Walter required an explanation. I had a much easier time explaining the next song “tequila makes her clothes fall off” because I could mime it (the few army guys next to us found this hilarious).
Showtime! I decided not to ask what is going to happen and to just be surprised by whatever was about to happen. A rider, accompanied by a very pissed off bull came barreling out of the gate into the mass of people! The rider was holding for dear life on to a strap around the bull’s stomach while the bull tried to kick him off, as well as gore the fans in the arena. Good thing about these bulls is they are not as big as back in the States (steroids are expensive) and they are not as fast. The men armed only with capes and a drunken sense of matador-ism tried their hand at the dangerous game.
Unlike back in the good old US of A where you only have to stay on for 8 seconds, here you hold on for as long as possible! Once the rider either jumped off or was kicked off, it was amateur lasso hour. The men would try to rope the bull and drag it off the arena so the next rider could have a turn on their bull. There were a couple of close calls where the bulls came close to people, at least enough so to elevate the heart beat of the crowd.
The newly crowned Senorita Cayambe was introduced and stood up about three feet from where we standing. Apparently she has good taste in ladders as well; it also explained the military presence.
For the next event 6 barrels were rolled out and two columns of three were set up. What the hell is going to happen now? Two riders on horseback came out, lined up and started circling their respective sets of barrels (Wikipedia it, my explanation sucks). This was mildly entertaining. Before the next race, a fight broke out in one the corners of the arena. Which in turn, caused everyone to flock to it like flies to light. This annoyed one of the riders who apparently had some place to be after his race. So he rode his horse right into the heart of the crowd like a sheriff in the old west with a complete disregard of human life. The crowd quickly and wisely dispersed and the race happened without another hitch.
Then the bull riders were back on. One bull in particular stood out. He was big and mean looking. I turned my head for just a second, and when I looked back he had a guy between his horns off the ground. The guy hung on to horns like handle bars for about 10 seconds before he somehow wrangled his way out of the situation unharmed to cheers from the crowd. Phew!
Unfortunately or fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, depending on personal level of sickness.
June 30th, potential laundry day, take 6.
Class. Ate Chinese food for lunch.
Came home and found Jose and Walter building a new chicken coop. Procrastination being my middle name, I lent a hand and we just about finished up by dark. Now it was time to wash my clothes.
I never, ever, as long as I live want to hear anyone who owns a washing machine bitch about doing laundry. I will take a flight home just to smack you. It took me two hours, 120 minutes or 7200 seconds to hand wash my clothes (not even all of them).
Step one; soak dirty clothes in a painters bucket (without paint) and detergent. Now take each item out, place it on the cement block. Scrub it with some kind of soap (?) and rinse and repeat until the water squeezed from it was crystal clear. Then ring it out and toss into another bucket that needs to go up two flights of creaky wooden steps to the roof to be put on clothes lines.
This washing room is right in the middle of a stairwell that leads to several apartments. So this gringo man (double wammy) washing clothes was a source of a good laugh for some of the residents. The general consensus was that I need to either pay an equatorian woman to do it or marry one. I can’t afford either of the options on the Peace Corps. budget. So I am shit out of luck in the laundry department. I hope I get placed in a nudist colony.
My stomach started hurting right before I ate dinner with the family. I told them where I ate for lunch, and I got the reaction no wants when you tell them were you just ate. Apparently the restaurant is “muy mal, muy mal” translation, “you’re fucked if you just ate there.” I only ate rice for dinner…
July 1st,
This month started off with a BANG! Chinese food. Never again will I trust you.
4:30pm, just as class was about to end and I was to head home, rain. Good thing my clothes were not drying on the roof, wait, shit. I will smell for yet another day, sorry Cayambe.
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