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!