Man, I really thought I'd be able to stay on top of blogging here, but at least during training, my free time is limited. So I'm sorry, and I have a feeling I won't have much free time until we're officially in our permanent sites.[You can see below my typical weekday and lack of free time!] Some excerpts from my last week or so here:

Me dancing the macarena at a baptism my first week (in the waaaay back)!

Homemade lasagna. This was a big hit with my host family! Also an easy (and delicious) way to bring American culture to Ecuador and share with them.

Our rooftop dog, Jose Ignacio. This picture doesn't really do his size justice.

Our indoor dog, Octavio, out on a walk.

PCT Stephanie at the Peace Corps Ecuador HQ in Quito

Taking work very seriously at PC HQ.

Wahoo!!!

This is a vintage sign from the earlier years of Peace Corps Ecuador. They celebrate 50 years in Ecuador in 2012!

Bailey's Caramel coffee drink in Quito. Oh Juan Valdez Cafe, I love you already.

Here's one of the tools we used for a presentation. We did a needs assessment of a nearby school and did a 24-hour clock to show the daily life of teachers and students.

My 24-Hour Clock (during PC Training)

6:30- wake up, get ready for the day

7- go downstairs, eat breakfast with Laura, my host mom

7:10/15- leave for the bus stop

7:25- get on the bus, holding on for dear life

7:45- arrive at training center

8-12:30- classes

12:30-1:30- lunch!

1:30-5 more classes

5- walk to the bus stop and wait patiently with other PCTs

5:15- take the bus back home

5:40- arrive back at home, greet everyone

5:45- homework and blogging/journal/emails until dinner

6 or 7- dinner (tonight was trout, which I loved, and yucca with some leftover no-bake chocolate peanut butter cookies from yesterday...yum)

7-9 shower, surf the internet, etc.

9/9:30- bed

A visit to the Historic Center in Quito.

Presidential palace guards

Saw this the other morning in Tumbaco's central park. How cute is this?

Saturday night Vanessa and her boyfriend took me and a friend into La Ronda, a street in the historic district of Quito. Lots of delicious food, drinks, and live music

A wandering artist in La Ronda made this. Beautiful!

I am hoping to do another post this week- anything in particular you guys want to know about? I'm open to suggestions!

I apologize ahead of time to my dentist at home, who may or may not be reading my blog posts.   Today might have been the craziest day of my life. If not, then it’s definitely been the craziest day I’ve had since I’ve been in Ecuador, BY FAR.  First, my water bottle was stolen [...]

Henley, Andrea and I went to see Elton John at Estadio Ricardo Saprissa in Tibas on Friday night. It was spectacular--a 2.5hr jam session during which he sang all (and I mean all) his biggest hits. Although his range isn't as large as it once was (he'll take the low octave and let his back-up singers--one of which is a former member of Sly & the Family Stone--take the high), what he lacked at hitting the high notes he more than made up for on the piano and with his energy and showmanship. I feel lucky to have gotten the opportunity to see him.

Me, Henley and AndreaPre-concert wine & cheese at Aldea HostelThe stage, and a close-up of the man himself on the right

* Paulie, today is your special day! Feliz Cumpleaños! It’s the 5th time we’ve celebrated your birthday together and I think it’s the most special because here we are on this big adventure called Peace Corps together. I know that wherever we are, it’s home if you’re by my side. Te amo, Mari

...this post will be about FOOD.

I can't be sure, but I think I've subsisted these past few weeks on a diet of pasta and pasta. Ever since the friends headed back stateside, I've been unmotivated to do anything culinarily creative; chalk it up to missing their company, and their hands in the kitchen. (Also, there was the small incident of me taking more malaria medication than was necessary in a concentrated period of time, causing me to lose my appetite for a number of days - among other worrying side effects - but that's another story for another time. Soon, I promise.)

So, for two and a half weeks, I boiled water and bided my time.

And my kitchen was spotless.

Until, suddenly, my appetite returned full force (and demanded that I prepare and consume a tasty goat stew). And now my kitchen floor is sticky and gross.

Here is a recap of what has come out of my refrigerator/oven/stovetop/imagination, with the willing collaboration of friends and neighbors in most cases. I operate under the philosophy that the whole cooking-then-eating process works best and results in maximum satisfaction when carried out as a team effort.

WHAT WE MADE

(1) Chucula. This is a dee-licious drink made of boiled ripe plantains and milk.

Take some plantains.

Cut 'em up.

Boil 'em'n'mash'em'n'add'em to the milk. Milk that has been heated with some cloves or allspice gives it a little extra kick.

Blend it all together to the desired consistency, add a dash of vanilla, and voilà. In my opinion, it is best served thick and chilled, to be eaten with a spoon.

(2) Pizza. A throwback to the U-S-of-A. (Meh okay, Italy, too.)

Margherita yumminess. If you really want to impress your Ecuadorian friends, tell them you know how to make pizza, and then make it for them. Just don't put red pepper flakes on it; the Ecuadorian palate is generally averse to spicy foods.

(3) Mora cornbread muffins.

These are a home-constructed creation inspired by a lack of milk called for by the recipe and by Amanda's creative thinking.

Mora look like a cross between a raspberry and a blackberry. They have an indescribably sweet-tart taste that explodes on the tongue and makes one want to sing sweet praises to the high heavens.

We discovered they're quite tasty in baked goods, as long as you're okay with the fuchsia.

(4) Chicken sandwich.

Another States food...pretty boring to the average American, but believe me, I'm enthusiastic about this little guy.

Sandwiches like this just aren't found here. Not the kind with fresh lettuce and veg on 'em.

Lettuce.

Avocado.

Mozzarella.

Chicken.

Tomato.

More lettuce.

REAL mayo.

Wheat bread.

Done and done.

...and guess what? I haven't even shown you what we made for the real Super Bowl celebration. Hint: There were 5 of us Americans who prepared food, and every single dish we brought involved cheese. I can't type any more, it's time to roll myself to bed.

Lactose-Comatose Love,

Jordan

I’m sure every culture has their own concoctions to cure the common human ailments. A weekend of shampoo-bottle-stomach (think high …Continue reading »

Reading: The Mountains of California by John Muir

The things that have gotten me through my first year in Ecuador: friends, family and books.

First, I want to say that I have really wonderful friends. One of the things that I learned very quickly when I came here is the cultural differences that surround friendships. In Ecuador, your family is often your source of friendships. In the States, your friends become your family.

Okay, that was sappy, I know. But seriously, I have really wonderful friends (and family). You all have sent me packages to the point that I haven't been without Trident Original gum since I got here last year. Plus, you've all put up with my sporadic communication and my occasional bitching which has been more frequent of the late.

So, in one very tacky blog posting, I want to say muchisma gracias a todos.

Second, I'm dedicating this whole post to books (since they sometimes come in boxes from friends.) I've always been a avid reader, but it seems to have turned into a bit of an obsession since getting here. As in, I average 2.5 books a weeks... which could just be an horrible indicator of my lack of projects at the moment. Either way, you can do the math to figure out how much I've been reading since I've come to Ecuador. But in case you're not interested in doing that, I'll give you a quick highlight...

I have read ridiculously long books like Atlas Shrugged, Gone With the Wind, Lonesome Dove and Ulysses (Joyce).I have reread old favorites like Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I have read books that I have fallen in love with (Running After Antelopes by Scott Carrier). And I have read books that I have hated but finished anyway (Barrel Fever by David Sedaris). I have reread books from when I was a kid (the Call of the Wild). And I have reread all seven of the Harry Potter books. I have read full series (the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). And I have read classics that I probably should have read while in high school (A Tale of Two Cities). This list could go on and on...

Anyway, that's all I've got: one year in Ecuador and all I've got to say for myself is I've read a lot of books and I have great friends. Oh, and I've consumed more oreos in this year alone then I have in my entire prior life.

So here's to friends, books and oreos! ¡Que rica esa vida!

Work-wise, I have spent most of January helping Dra. Velez setup the SubCentro de Salud that we will be working out of, and trying to start up the community groups for Los Tillales. Like I mentioned last time I wrote, the SubCentro has been neglected for quite some time. While we did get cleaned up [...]

I made this map for a community assessment project. We spent a day in Puembo, a town near Tumbaco, to interview locals and to learn about their needs. The community map shows where there are current resources and it will aid us in understanding where we might start programs or what resources are missing that [...]

Not as much to report this week—training is pretty intensebetween multiple group projects, Spanish lessons for 4 hours a day, and anarray of security, regulation, and health sessions. This week, I did get thechance to leave the training center to go to Quito twice. On Wednesday, my group and I traveledto see the Peace Corps office in the city; it’s quite the trek, three busrides, to get over there. The office is really nice, as are all of the staff.Of course, while at the office, we had yet another safety talk with our head ofsecurity. She discussed robberies and theft on transportation in Ecuador, whichis quite the problem, especially if you are a gringo. Unfortunately, on the busride back to the training center, one of my fellow trainees experienced thisfirst hand when she got off the bus and realized her jacket had been slashed.She’s fine—just short a cheap cell phone and five dollars. Sneaky, sneakythieves.

The weather has been extremely beautiful this past week withlots of sunshine. Several of us decided to walk to the neighboring town ofCumbaya (yup, that’s the name of the town) during the day on Saturday to enjoythe lovely scenery. There is a bike bath, the ciclovia, which runs for milesthrough and between towns in the area. Lots of mountain bikers, runners, andwalkers take advantage of the path, especially in the mornings. I’ve onlydriven through Cumbaya on the bus on the way to Quito, and I can’t believe hownice the town is. The town square is beautiful with a fountain and palm trees.After our walk, we all decided to opt out of eating at a restaurant servingwhite rice (two weeks in of eating white rice for two meals a day, and I’malready trying to avoid it!), so we found an Italian restaurant and enjoyed deliciouspizza. It was such a relaxing day after a super stressful week!A view from the ciclovia on the way to CumbayaMore nice views from the cicloviaTown square in CumbayaFellow trainees and me!About to enjoy pizza and beer (sin arroz--without rice!)However, Saturday didn’t end with lunch in Cumbaya. Theentertainment always continues when I get back home. I need to preface thisstory by saying that my host family always says that I eat “como un gato” (likea cat). Meaning: I don’t eat much. I’ll let you decide if you know any cats thateat the sheer quantity of food that I was given on Saturday.

I walk in my house in late afternoon after my outing toCumbaya. I’m greeted with hugs and a rapid flood of words that I sort of halfknow. Rosa asks what I did with my friends. I tell her we had a huge lunch, andI’m very full (take note of this). Next, my host brother asks if we’re going tomake cookies. I remember my promise about making chocolate chip cookies, so Isay yes. Rosa watches over the whole process to ensure that I do in fact knowhow to use a spoon to mix ingredients. (Side note: same goes for sweeping,dusting, making my bed, and ironing—all of which I now know how to properlydo.) I make the dough, I put the cookies in the oven, and I am about to walkout of the kitchen. But, Rosa calls my name from the dining room and tells me thatmy soup is waiting for me on the table. I reiterate that I just ate lunch. Nope, doesn’tmatter, I have to try a little soup. A heaping bowl of soup later, I’m nearingfood coma status. Next thing I know, I’m sitting in my room studying and myother host brother, who is a truck driver that drives to the coast every week,comes in with a mango and hands it to me. I don’t really know the protocol whenyou are handed a piece of tropical fruit in your bedroom, so I say thank you and try tocontinue studying. He is still standing in my room next to my bed, so I realizethe protocol is to follow him into the kitchen. My two host brothers and Isplit open mangoes and laugh as bright orange mango juice drips down our armsonto the ceramic floor. I eat one mango. Do I want another? Oh my god, no. Isneak back to my room. Ten minutes later—I hear the bells chime six from thechurch in the center of town, and in comes Rosa. She wants me to make a saladfor dinner. You’re kidding, right? I’m back in the kitchen. Salad, rice, eggs,and beans. For situations like this, the training staff taught us how to say, “Ya no avanzo.” (I can’tcontinue.) It never works.

One final note: My host family loves my chocolate chip cookies, and theword vender, to sell, got thrown arounda couple of times. I hope they were talking about the cookies. Either way, I’mglad I could add something to the food fest.

El 3 de febrero, 2012 Yesterday was the first time we went to Quito. 1 bus, one transfer and one Trolebus later, we were at the PC Office. It is so massively bigger than the one in China! Increible. Stuff I would have NEVER imagined: 1) I eat more rice here than in China 2) [...]

It has been a year since I left the comfort of my home, home meaning Texas and where my family is. Up until that day I had been eagerly anticipating the adventure that lay ahead of me, preparing my allotted 100 pounds of luggage, saying ‘good-bye’ to friends and family and alleviating myself of responsibility [...]

Catching up on blogs typed over the week-end, so the photos from the previous posts are supposed to go with this below. Bleh, you’re smart, you had figured it out. Domingo, 29 de Enero 2012 This morning we went to “el campo”. José drove the old car, which really reminded of “la jeep”, for about [...]

January 28, 2012 It is Saturday afternoon, I’m isolating myself in my room to write this eventhough I won’t be able to post until the internet is back.  Luz and her friends are making donuts, and the eldest friend literally called her 27 year old to convince him to come and meet the foreigner who [...]

* One of the Peace Corps trainers asked me to make a puppet for a show she was putting on to demonstrate how we can use entertaining activities in the classroom. I was asked to make a caterpillar (oruga) and another student made a worm (gusano). The story was about a gusano who spent all [...]

As I looked through my pictures from a recent trip, I realize that a photo montage post is in order. I took these pictures on a recent trip to the province of Esmeraldas to develop sites for new Peace Corps volunteers. Esmeraldas is located in the northwest corner of the country and is home to much of the Afro-Ecuadorian community.

It is awesome.

Fish and coconut are two of the biggest industries in Esmeraldas. They have managed to combine these two into one fine plate: encocado fish. They even make the white rice look good.

In this family's house, there is only one place to get cell reception. You will notice that they have made a pocket out of tape on the window and placed their phones in it.

This "For Sale" sign has four misspellings and should have one more word than it currently does. Only one of the words is spelled correctly.

The province is famous for its beaches. We were working the whole time and didn't get any time to enjoy the beach, but I did get to snap this pic of the view from Mompiche.

They were selling mangoes by the bucket on the side of the road for one dollar per bucket.

So we bought three buckets, which amounted to at least 60 mangoes.

"What men have on their mind." - Freud. We saw this sign at the restaurant we were eating at. It says something about a culture when they have a picture like this on the wall at a family restaurant.

Check out this guy just laid out on top of some bamboo on the back of this truck.

We're in the planning stages of a day camp for the little kids, who just got out for school vacation. Day 1 is this coming Monday (send help! aaaaaaaaaaaah!). Thank goodness I have four stellar young ladies to help out as counselors.

Last week, we made ourselves some non-uniform uniforms. (We like to shake things up around here. Keeps everybody on their toes.) Hopefully the bright colors will bedazzle the kids into...submission? obedience? good behavior? not ripping each other's hair out? One can only hope.

The day I got back from Chimborazo was horrible...I won't go into the details but coming home was very disappointing. It could be taken as just a misunderstanding and a natural (??) desire to take advantage of a foreigner, but the way I see it, it was a pretty cruel thing that happened and I was offended.The rest of the week I spent mostly indoors avoiding life outside. I didn't want to face anything related to what happened that Tuesday afternoon. My host even thought I was mad at her because I was so elusive, but she was too so we didn't actually meet until Saturday morning. I tried entering the kitchen as bright as I could manage with the required "Buenos dias" and though it was rocky, eventually things would repair yet again. The week continued to get bad, pretty much ending with my folks announcing that they have to give up one of their dogs, Gizmo, because he has a major behavioral issue (like, almost ripping fingers off and sending both my folks to the ER). Gizmo's threatened and bitten my dad, mom, and even my best buddy back home who began wearing full motorcycle protection gear to my house to avoid his teeth. But he never bit me, so while I can understand his behavior is unacceptable, it's hard for me to feel like he's really a bad dog. But later that day my mom texted me to say they were giving him another chance but only with training. We'll see... The weather was nice for a little while in early January but now it's back to being mostly rainy and quite cold. It's 55 in my room right now, which isn't a very comfortable temperature to be honest. My fingers are icy. My host had to cut grass for her guinea pigs and rabbits (which are all dying, along with the chickens and we don't know why) and came back soaked and muddy. So I've been doing a lot of indoor work myself. Last night was a regular community meeting and I requested to have a word. I'd written out a long speech detailing what happened on Tuesday, about integration, about what I want from the community, and pretty much crossed all that out until what remained was a short bit on how I've been here almost a year, how I have a year left, and I want to DO something with that year but I need help and interest or I'm leaving. I had to write it out or I wouldn't remember everything, but the reaction to it while I read was interesting. At one point I listed a bunch of potential projects related to my program, and after a few there were loud (excited?) whispers. I recall doing this almost exact speech when I first came to the community, but now that one of my favorite people is president, I think I have a better chance of getting things happening with his support. So when I was finished, the secretary next to me said she was personally interested in learning how to make things with used materials (trash), and a few others chimed in that they want an artesanias group. The secretary was fiddling with a plastic bag and held it up saying they could do something with it - and I added that yes, I can show them how to make yarn out of it, and it's easy (huge gasps and whispers). People in the front row agreed and said they have a problem with what to do with trash, and they especially want to stop burning it (my mouth might have dropped open at this moment). Turning trash into some useful materials may help the problem a little and it may begin opening doors to other solutions like reducing trash in the first place, recycling, and maybe designing a small landfill. Who knows... I just know I was thrilled with what I heard. Finally, THEY picked the day, the time, and the place. It'll start this Sunday at 10 p.m. in the community house. I'm planning on making a couple posters to announce the event to the rest of the community and at the first meeting we'll look at some things we'll be making (some examples I've made and pictures on my computer of other possibilities), and agreeing on a schedule of what we want to make and when. Then my host next to me jumped in and told everyone how they need to make wood ovens. She told them how creative I apparently am, how one day I decided to paint my room and the next day it was painted perfectly - "like a man paints." (everyone roared laughing). Hah. Right. And she mentioned the 'marvellous' things I knit. So naturally, I can make ovens. Wood-burning is not at all ideal in my location because of heavy deforestation, but people need to burn fires so it happens. Good ovens help a little by convecting and conserving heat, reducing the need for tons of wood. Plus building them can introduce other topics like why not to burn trash, what kind of wood is best, how to cure wood properly for maximum efficiency. Again, there was a great amount of reaction and enthusiasm to this idea. One guy invited me to see his oven the next day - hello, oven-making counterpart. So I left the meeting feeling like things were actually going to happen now. Finally. Maybe? I've learned not to be too optimistic. But I will be happy if one person shows up to the artesanias meeting.

January in coastal Ecuador is like perpetually standing under a flushing toilet. Well...maybe not that bad. Maybe.

We still have 5 months of monsoon season left and I'm already starting to envision myself looking like Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean, with barnacles growing out of my ears and tentacles sprouting out of my chin. For now I just have to indefinitely settle with fungus on my face and arm...but I see an upgrade in the near future.

The fungus on my face has been morphing into a fish shape, which is lucky for

Peter. When it first started growing last weekend, it looked like I had

been given a black-eye, worrying my community members.

Now it's undoubtedly a fungus, and Peter is out of hot water.

Surviving in the rainy season is like playing a new strategy game. I was finally getting good at living in an endless drought. Then on New Years Day it started to sprinkle, than it started to rain, then the nightly torrential downpours began, and they still haven't stopped.

The good news is, the frogs finally moved out of our toilet. However, our gravel road has turned into a muddy lake. Our asbestos roof holds water like a sponge. The bug population has been exponentially increasing for weeks. Our clothes are never completely dry, as well as my bed. Our new bamboo porch is already rotting/only pretends to be waterproof, and once again my garden has DIED. The first time because of the drought, now because of the flooding. Soo, I have resigned myself to being an "Animals Only" Ag volunteer.

Because of the rain, we’ve had to adopt new strategies to get in and out of site while staying as dry as possible. The last bus in to El Congo now comes in two hours earlier because school is out for the year and the students no longer get out of class at 6:00pm. Meaning that if we miss that 4:30 bus, we better be prepared to get wet. Two weeks ago we missed that bus and ended up walking the two miles home at 6:30 pm, in the dark and in a torrential downpour (Consequentially, Peter’s second pair of jeans are covered in mold, and that is HARD to get out).

Most people San Francisco del Congo don’t leave much, maybe once a week for market day every Sunday. Sundays there are more buses running, usually 5 or 6 in and out. But we try to stay away from town on Sundays. The buses are usually packed full of people, roosters, chickens, eggs, bananas, coa coa beans, and corn which people sell in town. At first it was hectic in a funny sort of way (when I would see a rice sack start to squawk and creep down the aisle for example). Now all I see are people, worried that they won’t get a fair price for their goods and it makes me nervous for them. Peter and I have come down to the wire a few times with our monthly living allowance…and now I know what it’s like to make a few dollars stretch for a week or two, and it is nooot particularly fun.Edita and I planning Summer School..right after Christmas break.

Because school is now out until April, Peter and I are starting summer school classes in the community. We’re particularly worried about the students who attended class in the little one room classroom in San Francisco del Congo because they are so behind in their curriculum. The former school-teacher from Guayaquil spent most of her time doing whatever she could think of to not teach the students. Usually that meant 3 hour recesses within 4 hour class days. Anyway, we’ve been approached by several parents to teach during student vacation because the students scored too low on their end of the year exams to be able to pass into the next grade. So we’re going to give it a shot.

In other news, last weekend we met up with 6 other volunteers and went on a day hike in the cloud-forest, about an hour and half a way from our site. In order to get into the forest we had to drive through a Dole banana plantation, we drove for 30 minutes and only saw bananas.

I was on the road a couple of weeks ago and came across some fun murals.

The World Map is one of the more common Peace Corps projects. It is an opportunity for Host Country Nationals to get a sense of where their country is in relation with the rest of the world. In this community, the Hulk has already taken over Australia and is threatening Madagascar and Africa.

X-ray vision Jesus

This past Saturday I spent my 31st birthday with my wonderful honey in Sacramento in active pursuit of physical prowess and selective skillfulness.  That is to say we rode our bikes along the American River to the restored northern California "French Quarter" known as Old Sac.  This section of Sacramento is a touristy neighborhood of parking scarcity and abundant old-fashioned candies, of restaurants and art galleries, in which one can while the time away enjoying an artfully crafted burger beneath a 19th century stained glass work of art.  Indeed we did just that, and marveled as well at the smell of nutty brittles (we purchased some of the peanut variety) and the girth of parked motorcycles, all gallantly arrayed in chrome and bright paint.  Our garb was minimal, our gear the same.  Just water, gloves, and for me a small pack to hold a hydration hose and wallet and keys, the necessities and nothing more.

According to Sarah's GPS-enabled watch it was a 10 mile ride along the bike path and over the bridge to reach our destination and achieve a look-see of Old Sac and its pioneer-era historical underbelly before tucking into a lunch at Fat City.  Ten miles back with a decently full belly?  We were up for it, even though we were also scheduled for a 2.5 hour AcroYoga workshop that night.  The topic?  The Art and Science of Handstands!  As ready as we were for lunch, we hoped we hadn't gobbled too much so as to gravitationally affect the inverted selves we'd soon be at the workshop...

Riding together along the path under a blessedly sunny sky, the American River shimmering to the south and then the west, we spun riddles and guessed at the habits of hummingbirds before returning to our neighborhood's environs.  Before we reached the final street, I suggested we use some of our ample time before the workshop to hunt for a geocache that I'd looked for in the area but had yet to find.  "Four eyes could be more effective than two," I reasoned.  

We made a few more turns and dismounted the bicycles.  I dropped my pack and retrieved my keychain and the LED light I keep on it - for one never knows when illumination will make all the difference!  Sarah headed into a nearby restaurant for a moment while I poked and sniffed about for the elusive hidden cache.  Not there.  Not theeeeere.  Not there either.  Hrmmm.  Oh what's this?  Not on a padlock, not in a steel chain, and not down either of the two metal pipes that I'd searched before, the secret capsule was disguised behind a bolt running vertically through a concrete parking barrier the likes of which can be found in your nearest strip mall.  I signed the log as Sarah was returning and soon we were off on the last half mile to home.  In retrospect, the finding of the cache was not to be the carefree experience I'd felt it was at the time.  Little did I know...

At home we put down meditation cushions and had a brief zazen seated meditation before making some preliminary preparations for heading to the workshop.  Snacks were nibbled and time ticked by.  And then a detail that I'd somehow overlooked shot like a thunderbolt from my subconscious up and out of my mouth. 

"Where is my backpack?"

We entered the home with my keys, but they were in my pocket since I'd taken the pack off to retrieve them.  My phone was in my other pocket and had been used to locate the approximate location of the geocache.  I remember leaning the red and black pack against one of the pipes I was searching, but there was no memory of putting it back on again.  Maybe I'd brought it into the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen?  None of that made sense.  Pulse quickening, I knew what must have happened:  In our excitement to get back home and head to the workshop, I had left my pack and thus my wallet with all of its vulnerable treasures right next to a sidewalk near a busy Sacramento intersection.  For more than an hour.  An hour that we'd spent relaxing and meditating and looking forward to the evening of going upside down.  Well now things were FEELING upside down!

In twenty seconds we were out the door, snacks unfinished in the kitchen and yoga gear in tow, racing nervously to see whether I'd be canceling credit cards and looking up the location of the DMV for getting a new driver's license.  Thoughts of hoodlums with eyes wide open as they pored over the contents of my wallet came from the inner psyche.  We both were charged with the unmistakeable electric rush of being jolted into action and though it was exhilarating, neither of us were hoping the day's excitement would be taking such a form.  "Maybe someone turned it in to La Bou," Sarah wondered about the eatery near the scene of the potential crime.  "It's okay, it's just stuff, just another challenge to overcome and deal with," said the part of me that was probably lying catatonic near the back of my cerebellum.  I'd even forgotten it was my birthday, despite the "gotcha" surprise party we'd had the night before.

Sarah maneuvered her Honda like a prowling tiger among the traffic lights that impeded our advance to the cache site.  Maybe maybe maybe........ Maybe it's still just sitting there.  Maybe people passing by thought someone was watching it.  Maybe this is all a frightfully realistic trick and the hilarious truth will be revealed - I'm on candid camera perhaps?  Not to be.  Reality was cold and hard in my face and I was going to learn a lesson in mindfulness whether I liked it or not.  We zoomed around the final turn and there, in the near-darkness I spotted the pack, slumped down against the pipe exactly where I'd left it.

To go from a state of shock and disbelief to a state of relief and even more disbelief was not much of a relief as all!  We were so amped up by the realization of simple oversight that the pack I now held in my hands felt unreal, and remained so after I located the wallet intact inside and we were well on our way to the workshop.  To Sarah I felt apologetic for the oversight that led to such a heightened sense of urgency, and to myself I felt compassion for being a simple human with the capacity to forget and overlook.  It was mini, sure, but it was still an unlikely miraculous end to a birthday so full of good energy.  31 years ago I'd been born.  Hopefully I'd been reborn through this little experience to pay a bit more attention.

"How'd the workshop go?," you might be asking.  Sarah's gift to us both went great.  I made sure to bring my pack into the studio (ha) and we both learned some techniques that will keep us upside down in our practices for a long time to come.  Lesson learned.  Thank you, good people of Sacramento!

After the first week of official Peace Corps training, the introductions are out of the way and we are already starting to make some legitimate progress! The past few days have been filled with a variety of initial interviews, one to assess our Spanish skills for language classes, one to review our medical history, and … Keep reading →

Recently I had the opportunity to attend a Peace Corps hosted workshop on Nutrition for People Living with HIV/Aids. It was a two day workshop that encompassed basic nutrition for PLWHA, the benefits of exercise, calculating Body Mass Index, diet planning, discussions of Antiretroviral secondary affects, tire garden demonstrations and lots more. The best part of it was that each volunteer brought a member from their community either living with HIV/Aids or working in the area of HIV/Aids. Three members from the support group that I work closely with, attended the workshop with me. It was so exciting for them to be able to participate in something on this level and also to network amongst their peers. The ladies just kept raving about how much they loved the workshop and how much they learned. All of the information given is very important for PLWHA, this was an opportunity that they may never have gotten if it weren't for the workshop.

The BEST part about all of this to me, was the next week when these same 3 ladies took a leadership role at the support group meeting. The three of them with the help of Evergreen(another PC volunteer) and I, replicated the entire workshop for the other members of the support group who were unable to attend. I felt like a proud mama, watching them get up in front of the group and teach them about nutrition and what they had learned from the workshop. You could see the sense of pride they had in their smiles as they stood up there. I really have faith that this support group is going to continue to grow a strong sense of cohesion and leadership among them.

All last week has been an okay week. Not really busy. My students are done and so are my teachers, school is on break at the moment. On Friday we had the senior graduation, it was very lovely and interesting. The girls wore white dresses while the boys wore black suits. It was the most interesting graduation I have ever attended. I am happy all of my students graduated.

Here are some pictures, enjoy!

Yesterday, January 29th

Well yesterday was my daddy's birthday. He turned 68 :) Got to talk to the family on skype for an hour or so. it was great I can't wait to see them all in March.

My dad is the guy with no beard

I got to talk to Mara and Alese yesterday as well and it was amazing, I just needed that! To just hear their voices and talk to them. I can't wait to go visit them soon. I also talked to cupcake for awhile which was fun. I enjoyed it, hope we get to converse again very soon.

Today

I finished up my VRF forms and my revised version of my CAT tools. Fun fun. Now I am watching Modern Family with Benja and Katie, having some Canguil/popcorn, and some wine (Chilean wine!).

Anyway that's all, not a lot of updates at the moment. Hopefully things pick up pretty soon.

Just a little side note: I love popcorn. Best snack food ever. I love how they make it here. Canguil is so yummy!

  To-the-point updates and basics that I’ve yet to mention.   Host Family: Dad: Marcelo, was an engineer until he lost his job 2 years ago. Mom: hairstylist, works at the salon located on the street below our house. Oldest brother: Diego, 26, studies international tourism at a university in Loja via distance learning to [...]

Fritada is deep-fried pork.

Los judios means "Jews."

I don't know how this place got its name or what the owners know about halaja (Note the Spanish spelling).

This would obviously require some follow-up reporting, but I have never gotten off the bus in the neighborhood. Ironically, it is on my way to synagogue.

...is when you have a pan of Ghirardelli brownies baking in your oven.

And you don't even realize it until you go to take them out, and you see with dismay that the gas flame is out and your brownies are only half-baked at best.

Thank goodness for neighbors who have full gas tanks and understand a brownie emergency when they see one.

Thank goodness, too, for friends and family who ensure that, if I weren't to get my brownie fix, I'd have a backup sugar stash.

Let's take inventory, shall we?

Tootsie rolls. The go-to sugar source. When I reach into my fridge, I hope to always find myself up to my elbows in these.

Junior Mints. Only the best movie snack in the history of the world.

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups = cups of love, whispering so sweetly, Sip from me...

Starburst. This, in liquid form, is what runs through my veins.

Reese's Pieces. ET phone home.

Mini cookie bites from Cookie Creations of Atlanta. Speaking of home...these are like little bites of TLC to me. You, too, can experience their wonderfulness by clicking on the link and ordering some. Just tell Donna that Jordan sent you.

These items are made all the sweeter because I cannot get them here: they are either unavailable or way too pricey.

So yeah, I'd say I'm well taken care of.

Things are looking sweet from here.

Who needs rose-colored glasses when you've got Junior Mints?

Thanks for keeping my blood sugar levels up, guys!

For my last meeting as President of the Super Zona Sur I invited all my volunteer constituents to La Lucha for my town's annual fiestas. As the advertisement below indicates, the weekend is chocked full of events from live concerts, to bull riding to cabalgata (an organized, afternoon-long horseback ride). Thanks to my town's location near the Panamanian border, it's easy enough to lure some reggaetoneros and DJs from our southern neighbor. And as my house was already full of family members who came back for the fiestas, I told everyone to bring a tent and some warm clothes and we'd camp out. The end result was a an Occupy Wall Street-esque tent colony in front of the house. It turned out to be a really fun event, and I appreciate everyone who came out, especially Ken Ferrell who came all the way from Limón. Thankfully all volunteers had left town and I was safe at home by Sunday night when a fight broke out and some drug dealers, or narcotraficantes, fired their pistols into the air and broke up the party. The weekend's highlight for me was getting my picture taken with Bossy Lion and Sunday's rodeo.

Publicity for Las FiestasPCV tent colony in my front yardGallo Pinto a-la-Lynn Rosetto CasperRodeo The Zona Super Sur VAC regionPanamanian reggaeton artist Bossy Lion and meDavid, Ken, Barton and Hannah at the cabalgataCabalgataMely Gamboa and Mariana Rojas @ the rodeo

I have lots of friends who are always rambling on about topics that they are passionate about (queer issues, feminism, politics, government, religion etc) and I really enjoying hearing their perspective, challenging my own thoughts etc. However, when it comes time for me to respond, or to write about it, I feel trapped. I feel locked into whatever I am about to say/write, and then immediately am able to come up with a counter argument in my head. And thus the process of back and forth begins for me, even about things I am really passionate about as well.

It makes me realize that I am often very loud and outspoken about things that I sort of kind of care about (feel fine making general wide spread statements there) but the things that I am most interested in, I find to be very complex and full of grey shades of right answers, therefore leaving me perplexed as to what I really want to say about it. I think that outwardly makes it seem like I must not really be interested/passionate at all, when in fact I think it's the opposite.

For example,

Here my friend Aashita makes a valid point. I do believe that women are often objectified. But Aj does make me think that women can at times objectify men. Or men can objectify other men. Then it makes me think that everyone is at times objectified. Then I start wondering about who isn't objectified, or what makes people objectify others, and in which ways I am objectified, and in what ways I objectify others. You can see how I just start going crazy and never settle on a firm argument that is worth writing, despite the fact that I would LOVE to contribute to this discussion.

Hm.

* In Training we’re learning about the different types of participatory tools that we can use to better understand our sites in order to assess how we can best serve our communities. One of them is called the 24 Hour Clock and it delineates what the average man or woman’s day is like. In many [...]

Last week I was invited by our town's senior citizen group, Los Titanes de La Lucha, to the town of Sabanillas for a day full of aerobics, dancing, soccer and singing. I was flattered by the invitation, and brought my camera in an attempt to capture some of the action. It was great getting to spend time with the older members of the community, and to see that their zest for life (and competitiveness when it comes to soccer) doesn't diminish with age. (Check them out on the Facebook page I created for them: Los Titanes de La Lucha)

Someone let me play the maracasLos Titanes scored 2 late goals to defeat SabanillasLocal school children performed a traditional danceMy host parents, Doña Lila and Don Ricaredo (Richard)

Hey y'all. Earlier this month one of my best friends, Malcolm Ross, came down to Costa Rica for nearly two weeks. Our first stop was in San Gerardo de Rivas, a town at the foot of Cerro Chirripo, where we stayed at the lovely Casa Mariposa, explored the waterfalls of the Cloud Bridge Reserve, and camped out at the park ranger station to guarantee our spots to climb Chirripo. We went on to climb Cerro Chirripo (3820m), the country's highest peak, in time to watch the sunrise from the summit, and explored Los Crestones and Laguna Ditkevi. After a night in Perez Zeledon, we met up with Henley in nearby Mollejones and hiked 30km to Bahia Ballena, where we spent a couple days relaxing on the beach and boating. Then it was back to La Lucha few days, where we hiked up to Las Tablas and toured Miguel Sandi's orchards, ran to Sabalito, and on our last day took a day trip to Playa Zancudo with Juan and my neighbor, Stiben (Steven). On the way home from the beach we stopped in the town of Conte, PCV Hannah Kight's community, which was in the midst of it's annual fiestas. It was an amazing and thoroughly exhausting trip. A big thanks to Malcolm for taking time off from medical school to come down and visit.

At the Chirripo trailheadFuzzy plant of the paramoLos CrestonesMalcolm and me on top of Los CrestonesMalcolm and some fellow climbers atop Chirripo at sunriseThe whale's tail at Bahia BallenaMalcolm and HenleyDolphins breach the surface for airIsla BallenaSunset at Bahia BallenaMe and Malcolm with Miguel Sandi and wifeMalcolm, Hannah K. and me in Conte

In most countries in Latin America, you have two categories of water: "agua con gas" and "agua sin gas." The products are relatively uniform. Agua sin gas is purified drinking water. Agua con gas is water with bubbles.

In Ecuador, however, there is a different class of bubbly water: Guitig.

What makes this product so special is that it comes out of the earth in its effervescent state. It doesn't undergo any process to make it fizzier. The company that sells this product bottles the water that comes out of its spring just south of Quito where it has been sold since 1906.

The naturally occurring state of this glorious beverage leads to its marketing slogan "A miracle of nature." Now I don't know much about the science behind springs and the kind of water that comes out of them. What I do know is that nothing quenches my thirst on a scorching hot day like an ice cold Guitig.

For two years, I enjoyed the goodness that is Guitig, thinking that life could not get much better than the sensation of this miracle hitting my tongue. Then someone told me that you could visit the Guitig spring and swim in a pool of it.

As soon as I heard this, I resolved to visit this promised land of carbonated beverage.

Today, I baptized myself in this miracle.

It was a religious experience. It tingled all over my body, especially my face. It was a little uncomfortable when my eyeballs started having that same sensation, but I wanted the full experience.

The pool itself didn't have the same level of fizz that a freshly opened bottle does, but I figured that swimming in a pool of Guitig was the equivalent of drinking from a Guitig bottle a half hour after you open it. It loses some of the fizz, but you can still recognize that unforgettable texture.

For the first time, the rest of my body got to enjoy something that only my mouth and throat get to to.

It wasn't a really warm day, and the Guitig water was rather chilly. So after doing a lap and fully immersing myself a few times I headed to the lukewarm pool next door to heat up a bit.

If anyone ever tells you that Guitig is like any other "agua con gas," you can point them to this website that explains that health benefits of Guitig.

First off, it contains so many minerals that normal sparkling water doesn't. It contains calcium, magnesium, sulfates, sodium and nitrates.

According to a study on Guitig's website, people who drink mineral water have fewer incidents of osteoporosis. The water's natural salt content means its better for rehydration than normal bottled water. The naturally occurring CO2 in Guitig prevents cystitis by killing bacteria in your bladder.

In addition to the benefits of consuming Guitig, it also has many beauty-related uses. If you want your make-up to look more natural, mix in a little bit of cold Guitig with your make-up. Let it dry before applying it. Also, you can rub Guitig over your body after a day at the beach so that you have a more vibrant and lasting tan. It is also apparently helpful for many kinds of skin conditions and irritations.

I can't believe it has taken me this long to fully profile Guitig in blog form. In addition to the chocobanana, it was one of the primary ways I recovered from the heat while living on the coast.

Ella corta la badea.

She cuts the badea.

Está cortada la badea.

The badea is cut.

Cortó la badea.

She cut the badea.

Ella no sabe cortar mangos.

She doesn't know how to cut mangoes.

Pero los sigue cortando.

But she cuts them anyway.

Corta el cabello.

She cuts hair.

Espero que sepa cortar el cabello.

I really hope she knows how to cut hair.

Echa la fruta en la sangría. Bien hecho.

She puts the fruit in the sangría. Good move.

Fríe las verdes.

She fries the green plantains.

La que trae para picar es mi mejor amiga del mundo.

She who brings the appetizers is my bestest friend in the whole wide world.

Aplasta los patacones.

She smashes the patacones.

Ella es muy de moda.

She be stylin'.

Revuelve los fideos.

She stirs the pasta.

A comer!

Let's eat!

Buen provecho!

Bon appétit!

Whew, it has been a crazy week (wonderful, but so busy)! Peace Corps has every Monday through Friday planned out from 8-5, then I spend about an hour and fifteen minutes walking home, and, sometimes, I have homework to do afterwards. On weekends, I have host family obligations--more on that in a bit. So, I've decided during PST (Pre-Service Training, there are a million acronyms in the Peace Corps) I'll try to update my blog every Sunday.

So here's the update...

This week has been a blur of training and absorbing Ecuadorian culture. I've been spending most of my time at the Peace Corps training center. Each day begins with a chaotic bus ride at 7:20 in the morning; when I say chaotic, I mean no maximum capacity, landscapes rushing by, a serious core and forearm workout in order to remain upright, and continued movement while trying to get off the bus. It's definitely an experience in itself. After the enthralling bus ride, the rest of the day seems rather dull. I've been attending lectures about culture, health, safety, Spanish, and technical training about environmental education and natural resources management. The two most interesting training sessions: the security briefing by a special agent from the U.S. Embassy and the intestinal illnesses talk from the extremely enthusiastic Peace Corps nurse. I'll let your imaginations dream up the contents of those chats.

My second home: the Peace Corps Training Center.Besides training, I've been spending a lot of time with my host family. And by spending time, I basically mean eating copious amounts of food. And, I have to say, the food here is so good! I could write paragraphs about the food, but I'll limit it to just one for the first week. My favorite dish so far has been humitas--ground choclo (the type of corn here) mixed with butter, sugar and egg wrapped in a corn husk and steamed. Then, wait for it, fried in butter. Think: fried, sweet tamale. Delicious. My host mom, Rosa, and I go to the market every Sunday and stock up on fresh fruits and vegetables. The markets are incredible here! For breakfast, I have fresh juice (pineapple, melon, naranjilla, mandarin, or tomate de arbol), a roll, and tea. Lunch and dinner usually consist of a combination of white rice, fried eggs, soup, vegetables, beans, lentils, and/or noodles. There's definitely an abundance of starch. On weekends, the day is basically centered around food, with lunch being the main meal of the day. Yesterday, my host family and I ate a huge lunch of soup, rice, vegetables, and beans. So, for dinner, we had tea and chocolate cake. Chocolate cake for dinner!

A fruit stand at the central market in town=delicious!Yesterday, I had to tackle the task of washing my clothes on la piedra. (La piedra is the stone that people wash their clothes on here.) Basically, you take one piece of clothing at a time, lather it with soap and water, scrub it on the rock, let it sit for half an hour, then take that piece of clothing, douse it with water, and squeeze it until all of the water comes up. So, Rosa taught me how to wash my clothes, and two and a half hours later, I finished washing 6 shirts, 3 pairs of pants, one skirt, a handful of underwear, and a set of sheets. Where's the washing machine at? No, not really, it was actually kind of pleasant washing my clothes in the morning sunlight. I think the best part though was that my bright purple underwear was splayed out on the clothesline in front of the dining room window while we ate lunch. Not embarrassing at all, nope.

La PiedraSuccess!My host family has a garden, actually more like a small farm, in a neighboring town. Rosa and I went to see the farm and to feed the pigs yesterday. She goes to the farm everyday in the mornings. The garden is very beautiful; there's corn, potatoes, lettuce, beets, beans, and three pigs! Los chancos, pigs, are gigantic and crazy. There's also a ton of alfalfa that Rosa grows to bring back to the house to feed the cuy, guinea pigs, several of which will be eaten in a couple of weeks for her son's birthday. I've tried lots of new things this week--food and experiences--I can't wait to try more, but maybe not any cuy!

Rosa and her chanchos!The view from my host family's gardenOne of the many beautiful flowers blooming here!

It's what's for dinner.

I started with this:

Goat meat in a cumin/oregano/garlic/beer marinade. Yummy.

Then I used these:

An onion. A pepper. And achiote.

Achiote is this seedlike, nutlike thing. It is frequently used as a colorant and flavorant in food (esp. with rice) and comes in many forms, including powder and oil.

Brown the meat and throw it all together in a saucepan.

Blend up a mixture of cilantro, tomatoes, tangy naranjilla fruit, and hot ají peppers. And more beer, which isn't pictured. A word to the wise, don't just throw in a bunch of the peppers without testing to see how spicy they are. Unless you're not afraid of picante.

Strain the mixture, then add it to the pot along with some cane sugar and spices. Let it simmer for a while.

Watcha doin'?

Stewin'.

Serve hot over rice.

Sooo... it was very cold and windy and I didn´t get much video. But this is what I got! Up to 20,500 feet, the Veintimilla summit of Chimborazo:

You may or may not have realized that I removed the "Wish List" from my blog. My reasoning behind this is because, a.) I've received so many wonderful packages to date that most of my "needs" have been taken care of, and b.) That most of the time you guys think of such better things to include in a care package that my suggestions pale in comparison. But as it were, I am creating another Wish List linked in a button at the top of this page. This Wish List is not for me personally, but for my Agriculture Youth Club, also known as Huerto Club.

The word, "Huerto," means garden or more specifically vegetable garden.* The name originated as the club was part of the garden project at the school, but has evolved to be solely an after-school club focused on agriculture and environment themes. At our last meeting we had 25 participants ages five to 13 attend the session. At that meeting the kids reviewed their rules for the group and goals for the next year. The following are their goals:

How to plant potatoes How to get rid of weeds How to care for animals How to care for vegetables How to sow and have a good crop How to care for the environment How to care for the soil How to make recycled art How to save our nature How to care for endangered animals How we can make sure that we don't cut down trees How to prevent environmental contamination

These are some lofty goals for a group of kids. They are very enthusiastic but have a lot to learn on working as a team and staying focused. Most traditional education systems in Ecuador focus, as I've mentioned, on rote memorization and do not put much emphasis on placing responsibility on kids. My goals are to increase the kids' ownership of their group. In a very individualistic society, it is important to impart these skills early in life as they traditionally do not learn teamwork and youth leadership at home or school.

The families of the members do not have any disposable income with which to support the group, and until we establish a higher level of organization we are ineligible for other funding sources. For this club to succeed, we could use art supplies and basic essentials with which to run the club. To date, I have used my living allowance to purchase the necessary office supplies, however I cannot purchase enough supplies for the up to 35 kids that come to each meeting. We hold meetings in the community center which holds a number of benches, two tables and a whiteboard.

For a list of supplies that would be greatly appreciated, see the link above. Many of these supplies can be purchased in Ecuador, though we lack the plata (money) at present. If you would like more information on other ways in which you or your organization can contribute to the group, please contact me separately.

I also think it would be really fun to start a pen-pal program with a 4-H club (preferably with an animal science component) so my kids have contact with other young people that are learning about agriculture.

*The word jardín is used more to refer to a flower garden.

* # of days in Ecuador 9 # of nights staying with host family 7 # of dogs that live in the host family compound 3 # of dogs that we can hear barking in the morning 2 # of dogs that we can hear howling at night 1 # of dogs that swarmed our [...]

Alright, so it's a little bit more than a week, but whatever. So much has happened this week already that it's hard to believe I've been here for so little time. The days are jam-packed, and when I'm not at the training center or running errands with my host family, I'm sleeping. To recap, here are some of the highlights, which I wish you all could have been here to share with me (the triumphs, the tragedies....so dramatic):

Saturday (Jan 21): Met my host family. Vanessa is my same age, and same height, so we often joke that we are gemelas, or twins. I feel pretty normal height-wise here for the first time in my life. Ecuadorian ladies are about my size (I'm about average), and men are a little bit taller (anywhere from my height to 5'10", occasionally taller). Vanessa is also president of Faust's fan club, who is an Ecuadorian singer who is very famous/popular here. She wants to take me to one of his concerts here before I leave for my site.

My host mom is SUPER protective, sassy, and the best possible host mom I could have here (more below). She does try to feed me a lot, but here, that's a way of showing you love and respect someone. She tells a lot of jokes which I can mostly understand, and we enjoy my Spanish mistakes. She served me "something ahumada" and I started choking because I thought she had said "humana," aka I thought she was feeding me human. This was also an issue for me with Hunan food back in the States. Some things never change? But everyone at the table got a good laugh at it. Also: I'm their third volunteer, so they know what they're doing. They know that volunteers like having time to themselves, that we don't eat as much, and that we inexplicably love exercise. Finally, last thing about my host family: they had seen me in the training center before they knew who their volunteer was, and they had apparently pointed me out as the "pretty voluntaria" and keep referring to me as "la bonita." Thanks for the confidence boost, guys!

Sunday (Jan 22): They took me into Quito, which is HUGE, very Americanized, and very dangerous. How do I know this? Because later in the week we had a man from the Embassy come and scare the living bejesus out of us all. Although it is rare that anything would happen, assuming we take the correct precautions, it's still scary to hear those one-in-a-million stories. Anyway...then we went for sorbet. Mine was guanabana and mora. Both fruits, both incredibly delicious. My family knows how much fruit I can put away daily, so coming here is a blessing with all the new and exotic fruits to try.

Monday-Friday (23-27): Training, training, and more training. I learned how to:

take the bus...although Laura insisted on taking the bus with me the first day so I knew where to get on, get off, how much to pay, to wear my backpack in the front and put my money in different places on my body. As soon as we got to the training center, she held my hand and walked me to the center's gate, then we said goodbye and she hopped back on the bus. Told ya I'm in good hands.sidenote: Riding the bus here is a mix between surfing, Twister, and human Tetris. There are no limits for passenger capacity, and the bus driver's stop is more of a pause before hurtling off down the road to the next stop. Overall, a good morning workout, but I think I'll walk soon.sit through charlas, charlas y aun mas charlas: Luckily, they're all (mostly) interesting and full of useful information, but my body isn't used to sitting from 8-12:30 and 1:30-5. I've been trying to stretch to ameliorate the aches from sitting.get sick in a foreign country: This is a Peace Corps rite of passage, especially in Ecuador in the first week. Luckily, I knew to take Pepto Bismol, drink oral rehydration salts, and was able to go home and sleep all day Wednesday and then in the afternoon today (Friday).sidenote: How to talk about bodily functions in Spanish is also something we all have learned. It seems silly until you really need it. And some of us have really needed it this past week. I hope I don't get sick any more for a while, at least.explain why Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus has two identities and why she tries to keep them separate in the award-winning Hannah Montana: The Movie...in Spanish!watch Buena Suerte, Charlie y A Todo Ritmo ("Shake It Up!") on Ecuador's Disney Channel: This is of course to improve my Spanish and not fun at all. Nope.make a hair appointment before a baptism: This is tomorrow. Dress code is...fancy, with a side of dance expected. I'll report back.differentiate between the 3 types of dogs here: street dogs: These guys are tough, and live in the street. They dodge cars at the last millisecond, sleep on sidewalks, and in general make me really sad.The Peace Corps staff gets a kick out of me walking by every. single. dog. and saying "Que lindo, perro! Que bonito, este perrito!" and baby-talking every dog in Spanish. I keep joking that one of my secondary projects will be grooming street dogs to get them adopted and saved from street life. Sometimes people will leave out poisoned food in an effort to control the dog population ): Anyone that knows me knows how big of a soft spot I have for dogs, and street dogs just break my heart and make me want to cry (though I cry at everything...like the Hannah Montana movie. This is a lie.). Even when I have to use my whistle to protect myself.rooftop dogs: I'm not sure if these dogs ever leave their roofs, but it doesn't seem like it. They are essentially alarms and bark at anything and everything. We have one who lives on the roof, but he's really just a big baby in a Rottweiler body (shhh).indoor dogs: We have one of these too...these are the dogs livin' the good life. They get table scraps, get carried around, and wear cute little outfits. They are extremely coddled. I will probably get one once I'm in site. Obviously, I love dogs!I also learned that I'm in the Advanced-Low group for Spanish this week, which is pretty good! There's three levels (Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced) with sub-levels of Low-Medium-High. To "graduate" we have to reach at least Intermediate-Mid, so I've already done that. Muchisimas gracias, Vanderbilt Spanish major! Hoping to reach Advanced-High by the end of training, so I've got my work cut out for me.

P.S. Might go back to blonde...Eep!

It's official: our tomato plants are no more.

Earlier this month, Mike and I realized that our tomato plants had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Here's how we knew: they looked like this...

Common sense and the PC agriculture staff told us that this was brought on by the change in climate that's occurring with the onset of the rainy season. So we salvaged what fruit we could, and two days ago, with heavy hearts and mosquito-bitten hands, we pulled up the tomato plants.

We also pulled up the bell peppers. The peppers were getting smaller each time the plants produced, and the leaves were turning yellow (from lack of potassium, we are told). We will let the beds rest for a bit before replenishing the soil and having another go.

Meanwhile, our lettuce continues its valiant struggle for survival, aided by the bit of shelter offered by a nearby mango tree trunk.

We're rooting for you, little guys.

Let's go on over to Jordan and see what the weather's doing. Take it away, Jordan.

Well folks, today's forecast is RAIN, with a high chance of MORE RAIN and later on this week YEP, MORE RAIN. Take your galoshes for a nice walk in the park! Back over to you, Jordan.

That's all for tonight. Drive safe, everyone.

For those who have been wondering, here are some pictures of my sweet (and I mean SWEET) setup here in Ecuador...at least for the first three months. I honestly can't think of a better transition-room into my new life here than with something from my "old" life. (and for those dis-friends reading, i of course hope to return at some point...but probably in a legal or corporate capacity):

my bed! note the 101 dalmatians sheets

on my bed, facing toward my door/cabinets/giant hiking pack

My own personal bathroom with...wait for it....HOT SHOWERS.

View from my window! Sometimes, you can see Quito perched on the hilltop.

This is my host mom, Laura, and sister, Vanessa. I feel like I won the lottery family-wise.

In a park in Quito my first weekend.

eating ice cream! Vanessa and I jokingly refer to ourselves as twins since we're the same height and both love Hilary Duff shamelessly.

Our diablto, Octavio. We also have a HUGE Rottweiler that lives on the roof named Jose Ignacio. He's really just a big baby, though. I'll try and take a pic of him later.

Reppin' my state. Vanessa helped me put it up and asked me what the bear stood for...anyone know? I should probably google.

Next time I'll be posting on Ecuadorian buses....brace yourselves. Literally.

At this point I have been in Ecuador for a week and, as of now, things are going more swimmingly than I could have hoped. Our training group arrived in Quito Thursday night and was taken directly to the Peace Corps Ecuador training center in Tumbaco, about half an hour outside of the capital, where … Keep reading →

Reading: Días y Noches de Amor y de Guerra by Eduardo Galeano

One of the hardest situations for many of us Peace Corps volunteers to find ourselves in is explaining that we are not and cannot be the savior with an unending supply of money. The modern day White Man's Burden is not just one of fostering development but combating past missteps of handout aide. It is a situation, for those of use on the ground, that so often involves crushing some one's dreams and hope right before our eyes. More so, it is something that we have become hardened and accustomed to. In fact, many of us interested in development see it as a necessary evil that is simply part of the line of work. And we justify it in the name of sustainability.

But this is not a story of that.

This is a story that beings at site visit with a scared and intimidated volunteer and a child unaware of the harsh realities life had thrown her way.

Zoila was and still is suffering from leukemia, although due to my limited knowledge of spanish medical terms, I did not fully grasp the severity of her illness until several months in site. My ignorance, however, did not hinder our friendship. Fiber years old with smiling brown eyes, she immediately jumped onto my lab, stuck a red hibiscus behind my ear, and asked me my name. That was the beginning.

Time passed and our friendship grew. Sneaking away form the hordes of siblings and cousins, she would come to my house where we would play sudoku and Frogger on my cell phone until her mother would come looking for her. She would talk to me without the realization that she was only five or that we came from completely different worlds, the innocent candidness that we slowly lose as we leave childhood. Then came the big question.

A ver... SOLCA had found Zoila a marrow donor in Mexico and they were ready to move forward with her treatments against the cancer that had been dictating her life for the last three years. But her parents were worried. Their family of five only lived off of the meager income of her father's job at the bananera and although the government would cover the actual treatment it did not help with the small expenses: the medicines, the ointments the IV tubes, the hospital pajamas, the traveling expenses to Guayaquil every week, the three months of her parents visiting her behind hospital doors. Si puede buscar...

They wanted me to find a sponsor. To wave my magic wand and summon the savior with his unlimited bank account. They wanted me to help their daughter. And in a moment of questionable weakness, I agreed. I could not crush this dream and dish out the hard fact that not every American has hundred dollar bills flowing out of their pockets. This was more than a farmers' association wanting tractors and pruning shears or a school asking for new computers. This was a little girl and my friend.

Luckily, Stateside, my aunt had recently retired from years of working as a coordinator at a hospital in my hometown. Still well connected, she set to work enthusiastically to raise money for Zoila's family. As long as the parents were able to provide thorough documentation of all the costs my aunt assured me that the money would be there.

As I am writing this, Zoila is still under anesthesia. Marcelo, her father, promised to call me in the morning to let me know how the transplant went. "¿Y cómo está Ud.?" I asked him over the phone when he called to inform me Zoila had gone into surgery. "Ahí," he replied, "luchando, pero ahora todo está en los manos de Dios."

Peaces Corps teaches us that the most important aspect to our work in terms of development is sustainability. Without it, our two years of work is essentially worthless. Over and over we hear, "why give a man a fish when you can teach him to fish?" I am, in no way, arguing against that. But there is another aspect of Peace Corps, one of cultural exchange. This is the part of our service that seeds the friendships we will cherish long after we leave Ecuador. Friendships, though require investing ourselves in another individual. And that is something beyond sustainability.

Marcelo and I sat in my living room pouring over the endless copies of hospital tests that he diligently brought to my house every week so Zoila's sponsors could follow the progress of her treatment. As he frantically shuffled through papers, I recalled a conversation I had with my aunt a few night prior.

"There's just so many terms I don't understand and it's all so complicated," I gabbed to her over the phone.

"And thing," she said, "you grew up around medicine. Now imagine how her parents must feel. They probably understand less than you do and this is their daughter."

My aunt had not given a name to it while we spoke, but what she was describing was fear and I saw it flash before me in Marcelo's eyes. Suddenly the fear faded and tears fell in behind it.

"My newborn," he started, "is sick, my wife is tired because I'm at the hospital all the time and never home to help with the kids. And Zoila doesn't understand why she can't go out and play with her friends. But what more can I do?"

For a moment I froze. I have seen my father cry without shame before, but for some reason Marcelo had caught me off guard. Peace Corps had hardened me and taught me to keep my emotions well protected. Then suddenly it struck me, this was not another excerpt from a office manual. This was my friend, some one that I cared about, some one that I was invested in. So I took Marcelo's hand and let him cry.

We have all coped with the stress of living in a developing country by joking that our time in Peace Corps is not real life. WE will return after two years and still be the same age as when we left. We counter the absurd with our own absurdities. Our friends will still be the same and our family unchanged.

As much as we joke about this there is something cynical and dehumanizing lurking behind the joke. Have we become so bogged down in the jargon and "the experience" that our grip on the present reality has slipped that far? What have we done with our long term investments in individuals?

Zoila has a long three months ahead of her. While she recovers, I continues to nurse my love/hate relationship with Ecuador. Projects come and go, organizations fall apart and counter parts sometimes return our phone calls. All of these setbacks are intertwined with sustainability. Without it, development, as a whole, is improbable. But what matters to us as individuals are our investments. And I have mine.

A nicely edited version of this story will be appearing in an upcoming issue of El Clima.

"The journey is filled with ups and downs. Don't confuse the two as ever being everlasting. Get up everyday and apply yourself, be authentic, trust your instincts and know that the more you apply yourself the better you get day by day. The day you are waiting for is the day you want to give up, that is when you MUST keep going. That's the barrier between normal and greatness." - Jackson Kiddard

Sorry. We packed a lot in during the trip, and I just want to share it ALL with you. Okay, maybe not ALL-all. Maybe not the sunburns. Or the bugbites. Or the inordinate number of bathroom stops we had to make during the course of our travels.

But I digress.

TTDWFCTV #7, Bring them here:

A refreshing green space in the heart of the big city.

But wait.

For some reason, as you're strolling along, you can't shrug the feeling that you're being...watched.

Then, in one of those sixth-sense moments, you realize where the feeling is coming from.

You snap your head around to meet the source of whatever strange force this is...

And, lo and behold, THIS:

This is no normal park; this is Parque de las Iguanas.

PCV Whitni had no qualms about getting up close and personal. She picked one up by its tail.

Here, she is explaining how kids at her rural site will grab iguanas by their tails and fling them up into trees so the dogs won't get them.

Betsie, not to be outdone, picks her target and approaches from the rear.

And now I think I'll stop talking and let the pictures tell the story.

And the girl and the iguana lived happily ever after - separately.

Autographs will be signed after the show.

The internet didn’t work for a couple of days because Santiagito (2 1/2) had unplugged something and the rest of the family thought the internet didn’t work because it had rained… Now it’s back! View from the terrasse We’re already very busy with training. Typical day: alarm clock rings at 6:20am, shower, “el cafécito esta [...]

Reading: the Shining by Stephen King

My house is being infiltrated by worms. No exaggeration.

Everywhere I turn they are crawling on my walls, on my floor, in my bathroom, and in my bedroom (so far they have spared my kitchen counter, but that's still cockroach territory.) If I was ever to to write a horror story, it would be based off of these worms, where one of the chilling effects would be having the reader really feel the crunching sound they make when squished. The story would have to involve a hefty amount of embellishment, however, because I am almost certain these worms are harmless.

Regardless, since the rains have finally started, the worms have been pouring into my house. I almost feel guilty as I have reacted to their coming with an all out blood bath on these rain refugees (do worms even have blood?) At first it was a bit careless - I hadn't figured out that you need to squish close to the head, otherwise they're apt to drag their half dead bodies with them on their unclear quest through my cement wasteland.

These days, my killing methods are more practiced and with practice comes perfect, right? I mean, I've killed just while writing this post... I have a handy nail head that I keep within easy access, I've honed my squishing location, and I sweep my house more frequently to get ride of the numerous worm carcasses. But, even more, I've become desensitized to the distinct crunching sound each murder makes. Some may call it heartlessness, I like to think of it as adapting.