One of my first memories here in Ecuador was sitting on the bus ride from Quito to Cayambe, heading to our training site. Looking out the window all I could see is run down buildings, dirty streets and a sad lot of people. I remember thinking, “What did I get myself into?” How would I be to handle all of this? Two years, impossible!

I’ve made it. Two years later I am here. I am still telling of my misadventures here in Ecuador. I have weathered the storms. I have seen the good and bad in people. I have seen the good and bad in myself. I like to think I have come out of this Ecuadorian life of mine a changed (for the better) person.

Was I the most successful volunteer in my time here? The answer is probably a no. However, I fulfilled my personal goals of Peace Corps. It is easy to look back on the entire experience and regret the things that have and have not happened. I could have tried harder to do this, or I could have worked with that group. I have given it all an honest shot, even though I feel that many times is not enough.

The past is past. I need to enjoy the remaining time I have left here. Now, I get to look forward to the next step of my life. A future that is now open to many possibilities. One that is filled with many new friends and my own menagerie of stories to share with everyone.

I guess this is the end of this blog. It has been my journal during my time here. I thank you all for listening to my stories from Ecuador. With that I leave you with the quote from where the name of my blog comes from, “It’s a magical world, Hobbes, ol’ buddy. Let’s go exploring!”

And one last shameless plug for the new Peace Corps website that my friends have gone and made:

http://www.projectsforpeaceecuador.org

Over 2 years in Ecuador. Very little time to go. Excitement building. Updates lacking.

I would like to share some unfinished blog entries that I started to write but I felt were fully capable of being a blog entry on their own. They are somewhat random, but they show some different, weird thoughts that have passed through my mind in the time I have been here.

Bastards

There are honest, decent human beings out there. Everywhere. It really is not too hard to find the good ones. No matter what one- and quite possibly several- person appreciates the work you are doing. Work may be something seemingly trivial or insignificant, but people do appreciate it. In my case, I have a handful of people who are truly grateful for what I have been doing here. Those decent souls are not my problem; the negative individuals seem to be. For every positive person or compliment I receive, the indecency and idiocy of the one person seems to trump all the good.

Personal growth

Is it possible to measure one's own growth as a human being? Sure, there have been many experiences here to shape and change me, but I feel as though I am still the same person as when I started. Reading old entries of blogs and other letters, I do realize that I have learned a great deal while here in Ecuador. I cannot say definitively if I am a different person than when I started. I would like to believe that I have grown, but I guess I will need the opinions of others to formulate the correct answer.

Life and Decisions

It is easy to think of our lives as a straight line. Point A to Point B. A being birth. B being death. The line encompasses all events, significant or not. For some people the line may not seem straight. It may feel like a twisting road, not seeing the one event around the bend. For me life is a reversed NCAA bracket. Birth starts at the championship game. One line. Working backwards from there, we hit a fork in the road. The fork is Decision 1, Decision 2, up to Decision N. What we choose from this set of decisions starts us down a new path. These splits and separate paths fill me with several questions. What is along that other path? Did I choose the right decision at this or that fork? What events in my life have been those splitting moments on my timeline?

“Are you excited to be almost finished?” The answer to that question is very difficult. It is true; I am almost done with my service. Four months, but who’s counting? I can answer yes, I am close to being finished, but excited; I don’t know.

I can answer definitely that I am ready to leave behind my job. The fact there is little work to do is compacted by the fact that cacao is in its low season until at least February. I go to my organization’s office and end up reading my book. “No hay trabajo hoy día” or “no hay nada que hacer.” Other forms of work seemed to have bottomed out. Sure, I will be able to find things to keep me occupied in the remaining months, but work is seemingly done.

You may be thinking, “Well, you have no work, Chris, so you must be ready to come home!” I cannot say that I am. Maybe after four more months that will still change, but for now I am not ready to live the life of a typical American. Am I ready for the everyday stresses of American life? Am I ready to give up the ability to get on a bus and explore the natural beauty of Ecuador?

When I begin life anew in the United States, it will be one dramatically different than it was before. The possibility of graduate school and/or different work. Actual work! My life is coming full circle and Tarantino-ing me. My situation right now is very similar to the four months leading up to leaving for Peace Corps. The unknown lay ahead of me once again.

Senior year, we have made it this far. With the swearing in of the latest group, my Omnibus (training group) has become the oldest kids on the block. Now we can give the freshman class swirlies and any other stereotypical punishment.

With this change in status, it finally has hit me that my time here in Ecuador is rapidly coming to an end. I find myself living less in the present as I am caught between thoughts about my past here and the future that awaits me. Have I accomplished what I set out to do here in Peace Corps? Have I taken full advantage of this experience? Have I made a difference?

I think the questions about the past scare me less than those of the future. The questions of readiness to become a functional member of society in the United States scare me the most. I am ready for the next phase of my life, but the open-ended ness of that is what causes any doubt.

I believe it is safe to say that one, true strength of mine is trivia. I was always good at Jeopardy. I tend to blurt out some insignificant detail in the course of conversation.

With my main project flailing the past year or so, change has definitely been welcome. When my friends Damon and Kat left, they introduced me to a place here in Atacames. It functions as somewhat of a hybrid between foster care and an orphanage. The place is called Aldea Infantil SOS (or SOS Children’s Village in English), look it up if you have the time. Now, with another outlet to spend my free time, I have been sticking to my strengths and teaching some of the kids some wonderfully trivial stuff.

1. Teaching valuable life lessons to the males by showing the ladies which way to the gym and flexing at the same time.

2. More information than is necessary about Michael Jackson, including the Youtube video of prisoners dancing to Thriller

3. Jackpot or 500 or whatever you used to call it at recess. (If you never have played this game, you need to rethink your life)

4. Computer games. From the old Gameboy emulator to Civilization and Warcraft III.

We have to fill out work reports to quantify the “good” work we have been doing here. How do you quantify being a big brother to children that need the attention? Either way, the numbers are not important to me. The time spent with the boys and girls- playing soccer or just hanging out- has been some of the most rewarding work I have done thus far. Who knows, by the time my service is up; I will sneak in something deemed useful.

I have seen my fair share of live football games (yes I am done calling it ‘soccer’) in my day. World Cup quarterfinals and semifinals. MLS. Italian Serie A. Those just being a few examples. I have seen the collective heart of a nation broken when I saw Germany lose while in Frankfurt. I have seen the intensity of fans when I saw Roma play. It is hard to top some of the football experiences I have had the pleasure to participate in. In Germany, I saw the host country play all the way to penalty kicks and win. Talk about intensity. However, the World Cup venues are very sterile environments. Very controlled. The game in Rome was insane with the fans lighting up road flares in the stadium. This game did not have the country on edge, only the fans of Roma.

The other day I had the pleasure of watching Ecuador play Argentina in Quito for World Cup qualifying for South Africa in 2010. The atmosphere of the game was a mixture of the two environments of the games I have seen in Germany and Rome. Intense fan and national pride at stake. Ecuador was needing a win to secure the fifth spot in the South American qualifying group (CONMEBOL). Being the underdog against Argentina, the outlook was not too positive. Two late goals in the second half by Ecuador sent Argentina and Maradona home losers.

The significance of the game and the enormity of the win were not what impressed me about the game. It was the electric atmosphere of the stadium for hours before the game. In true Latin American style, the game felt like a fiesta. Also, true to Quito form, the weather wreaked havoc, making it even more interesting. Two hours before the game, it was sunny and hot. Once the clouds rolled in, hail came, giving way to rain for the rest of the game. No one cared. La Seleccion was playing and going to beat one of the best teams in the world (I know arguable these days).

In America, we have American football as a sport that fans are unbelievable to their teams. However, as a nation, there is no sports team we stop our daily lives for in order to support. During the Olympics we show little national pride. From what I have witnessed in my football adventures, it makes me sad we do not have this intense passion for our country on the athletic stage. I guess I will stay with the minority of Americans and keep routing for our national football team. Maybe eventually we will win the World Cup and then our country can open their eyes.

I would share some pictures, but my camera was stolen during the game! It was good enough of a game for me not to be too upset about it.

Updating my blog to support a great program here in Peace Corps. I hope you can support it!!

The GAD raffle is on! Last year we were able to provide scholarships for 68 girls who wouldn't have been able to finish colegio otherwise. We wouldn't have been able to help them out in this way if it weren't the GAD raffle and the help of all the wonderful volunteers. If you could send this announcement out to your friends and family back home so they could also participate, this year is sure to be just as big of a success! Thanks so much! - GAD

GAD RAFFLE!

July 7, 2009

Grand Prize: 2 Flights within Ecuador

Other prizes include:

River tubing and ziplining in Mindo!

Biking and guided canyoning in Baos!

Rafting in El Chaco!

A guided tour of an Ethnobotanical Park in Puyo!

And many more including prizes in:

Sa, Guayaquil, Santo Domingo, Vilcabamba, and Baos (Azuay)

Donations are tax deductible!! There are several ways to donate:

1. We encourage you to donate on-line through the Friends of Ecuador website. Log on to www.friendsofecuador.org and click on Donate to make a donation to the GAD raffle and see a complete list of this years fabulous prizes.

2. Checks can be made to: Club Kiwanis Chuquiragua Please write GAD Rifa in the Memo of the check and mail to: Attn: GAD. Casilla 17-08-8624. Cuerpo de Paz/Ecuador. Quito, Ecuador. South America.

The Peace Corps Ecuador Gender and Development (GAD) Committee aims to enhance gender equality in all sectors of Ecuadorian society. In 2008, GAD provided over 60 scholarships to financially underprivileged, yet highly motivated Ecuadorian women so that they can finish their high school education. Working in partnership with Club Kiwanis Chuquiragua in Quito, GAD Ecuador's scholarship program is one of only a handful worldwide. The financial assistance that GAD provides for these young women is vitally needed, as a mere 56% of Ecuadorian women receive their high school degree. In addition to the scholarship program, GAD also sponsors popular youth camps and large national leadership conferences for Ecuadorian girls.

I know no blog update in quite a long time. Obviously, a lot has happened in the span of a few months. A trip all over Ecuador in the end of February. My trip back to the States in April. A visit from my bosses of Peace Corps this past week. Why am I not writing about all these experiences?

I was initially going to do an update about my trip home. I realized I did not have much new to say. My friends and family are all relatively happy with their lots in life. Not much has changed. That could have been my topic. How much things have stayed the same in the States. I decided against it, though. Not enough material to go on. The transition back here to the country was very easy for me, contrary to what many people say. Again, a dead end in writing material. Now what? Has the well run dry on ideas for the blog? Of course not. I am going to take a different approach to this blog in the second half of my service. I will just mumble or rant, or even both at once, on topics somewhat relating to my service here. So starting today, a somewhat new format. Welcome to my crazy, disjointed mind.

Guilty by association. I have decided I hate being guilty by association. A rule in Peace Corps is that you should not be in any way, shape or form be associated with drugs. Fair enough. Sounds like a really good rule. My best friend is Rastafarian, so I should not need to explain what that means in relation to the rule. My friend and his family have taken me in as a part of the family over the past year. It has made many of the rough spots more enjoyable. He has met many Peace Corps volunteers and loves what the organization represents. A useful exchange on both ends.

Even though I have never participated in the Rastafarian “ritual” in my life, according to Peace Corps rule I need to distance myself from the criminal element. As I said, rules are rules, they are in place so volunteers do not get in trouble with the law in a foreign country. I know the US Embassy would love that nightmare. I will leave it at that…

What is the first lesson I remember from elementary school? Preschool and kindergarten do not count. It was in Ms. Viola's class. Well, I am pretty sure it was a Ms title to her name. The first lesson of all of my primary education that I can really remember well is from the social studies book. Nearly the first lesson of the first chapter. What was it about? Needs and wants. Every person has needs, such as food, shelter and clothing. Also, every person has wants: a television, car, etc. First you have to take care of your needs before your wants if you want to survive. I have a new spin on the lesson of needs and wants, but this one more pertains to people than material goods. It is a valuable lesson for people wanting to volunteer.

Here in Ecuador there are many people that need help, especially here in the province of Esmeraldas. Needing help does not necessarily translate into wanting help. I am a good example of this situation. I am supposed to be working with farmers in communities that are some of the poorest of the poor. These people really need the help. However, there is a problem in all of this. While these people may need the help of a volunteer, they do not particularly care or want my help. It is a conundrum (no that wasn't in my GRE study guide) that I have to face.

What have I done to remedy the problem? Easy. I have found people that want my assistance. They appreciate my help. The people that want my help may not be the worst off group of people, but they are the easiest to work with. My suggestion to people who want to volunteer (especially Peace Corps) is: “Do not get frustrated when the people you are supposed to work with that actually need the help does not work out. There are always people out there that want to work with you.”

It has been a year now since I have been gone. I am continually learning lessons about life, myself, and other people. Thanks to everyone for support and encouragement over the past year. Thanks to my friends here in Ecuador ((both Peace Corps and Ecuadorian). Here's to another year.

Just putting this link up to help my friend. He currently lives with the Tsachilas (refer to my penis statue hunting entry) and is trying to get funds for a reforestation project. Here´s the link:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=518-329

The holiday season. I guess I should start from the beginning, all the way back to November and Thanksgiving. It has been awhile since I have updated here.

Thanksgiving – Cuenca, Loja, Vilcabamba

Thanksgiving was made up of a jaunt to the southern part of the country. I met up with a few volunteers, some living in Cuenca and others who were also en route to Loja. I think I have described Cuenca before, but it has the aesthetic of a European city. Of course it has the typical Ecuadorian feel to it, Porta cabinas and bootleg DVD stores all over the place, however it is not littered with garbage and borrachos (drunks). The most surprising thing was the fact that there is a microbrewery. Anyone who is familiar with me knows my fondness for good beer. Here in Ecuador, we volunteers have a limited amount of options when it comes to beer selection. Pilsener or Brahma, and the occasional super expensive “good” beers of Budweiser or Heineken. I digress. We venture into the microbrewery and see a selection. A stout. A red lager. A pilsener. A stout, I am in heaven. We order and as I have come to expect in true Ecua-fashion, we get a reply of “No hay.” No stout. No red lager. Our only option, of course, is the pilsener. Surprise! Luckily it was a great pilsener and not the same as the Ecuadorian version.

After Cuenca, I made a pass through Sarah's (another volunteer) site in Oña. Small town, cool volunteer house! Par for the Peace Corps course. Then onward to Loja for the Thanksgiving ceremonies. A football game in the city stadium, the best turkey dinner ever, and a robot apartment to celebrate it in! That sums up my turkey day. The local stadium is open to the public so we had a mini game of football, where our dominating team of Omnibus 99 volunteers ran some of the most memorable plays in recent sports history. Granted we ended the game in a tie, but everyone knows what team really won. After football we went back to Jason's (another volunteer from my group) robot themed house. There about 40 or so volunteers enjoyed a great Thanksgiving dinner.

High on triptophan and good spirits, the trek southward continued. Vilcabamba is about an hour south of Loja. The town is famous for its pampering of people. Full body massages for an hour and a half for about $15. I opted out of the massage and went on a four hour hike to the mountain peak that overlooks the whole area. What better way to end my Thanksgiving trip than with a local baile and reina competition. In my friend Andy's site of San Pedro de Vilcabamba, the local town beauty queen or reina competition was held the night we happened to be in town. Being the integrated volunteers and non tourists, we went and enjoyed the ridiculousness that is a reina competition.

After about 17 hours of bus riding later, I ended up back in Atacames and thus ended my Thanksgiving week.

Christmas and New Year- Atacames, Sua, Mompiche

December was a boring month. The only thing I got accomplished was a mural on the wall of my house:

http://picasaweb.google.es/lh/photo/nr8AU0iehyqwrj_4yE4fKg?feat=directlink

Christmas was low key for me, as it seems to be for Ecuadorians. A few volunteers around my area decided to get together and do a small gift exchange and dinner. No ham at my grandmother's house on Christmas Eve this time. Lasagna instead! Christmas itself was a relatively normal day by Ecuadorian standards. Not much was going on, so I went back over to Sua (where we did Christmas Eve) and had fried shrimp for a Christmas meal. Just like home!

The day after Christmas started the the revolving door of visitors up until the new year. From the 26th of December to the 31st, I was greeted with a new visitor(s) everyday. It was great, though. Two other volunteers visited with their siblings. As someone said it is amusing to watch another volunteer interact with their brother or sister. We only know each other in the setting of Ecuador and forget about the other social interactions that each of us has. Being a group of six people we decided to go to Mompiche (cool beach town near me) for the day. There we encountered another case of the “No hay.” Pizza place, pizza, “no hay.” Another restaurant, rice, “no hay.” Toilet paper, change for a dollar, “no hay.” Luckily the weather was beautiful, so the “no hay” epidemic did not really bring down our mojo. Back we went to my house to enjoy the next few days at my house in Atacames and meet up with other volunteers.

When everyone got here on the 31st, we all headed back down to Mompiche (yes, again) to celebrate New Year's. Black sand beach. Cabañas. Hammocks. Not a bad way to ring in a new year. All in all I ended up completely drained. A week of guests coming and going can do that to a person.

It was a great holiday season. Plenty to do and plenty of friends. However, the holiday season is definitely the hardest part of the year for most volunteers. Most people find themselves missing friends and family back in the States, especially as many other volunteers are visiting home or have visitors coming here. I am definitely glad I did not come home for the holidays, feels too soon, but I was feeling myself missing home during this period. Thanks to friends (hell, we are a family here) the holidays were made enjoyable. No big deal though, I will be home in April. The surprise is over, since my big mouth ruined it the other week.

After talking to my friend here, Katie, I determined I need to pick up women the Ecuadorian man style of approach. Whenever I come back to the United States, I need to be taken to a bar. There I need to test my Ecua-guy pickup skills. Here is how the whole conversation (on my end) would work out:

1. Hello.

2. How are you?

3. What's your name?

4. Where are you from?

5. Are you married?

6. No, do you have a boyfriend?

7. Why don't you have any children?

8. I own 4 hectacres of land, I can show you sometime!

Where it goes after #7 I do not really know. It probably is borderline offensive or unbelievable. Complete strangers, out of the blue. Do you think this approach would go over well in the States? How many slaps in one night? Turn downs? Jaws dropped? Men here are so blunt about their pick up skills to the women, I think they have a test back when they are little. They memorize all of those above questions and hope the die end up on lucky seven. Just promise me, if/when I come back to visit in the States, I try this out in a bar one night. I need to report back my success or failure rate.

Two other notes- For the next week or so I will be in the southern part of the country forThanksgiving, so if something is in the mail for me (mom and Rachel) I will let you know when I get back if they arrived. Second note, apparently some trick when sending mail is checking off the little ¨Documents¨ box on the little slip you fill out at the post office in the US.

Nothing new to report here, but digging through my archives, I came across this little piece of my randomness. I initially wrote it for our Peace Corps volunteer run newsletter, paper, whatever. It was usually a collection of random stories, ranging the spectrum from funny to serious. You can probably venture a guess where mine fits in. I wrote this in July and never got a chance to submit it (had a beach vacation in Mompiche). Eventually, the paper got axed due to budget cuts within Peace Corps (and some other issues). Let's hope that all the promise Obama is can get some money for a bigger Peace Corps budget! Vamos a ver.

Also, before I give you the story, I NEED books. You can mail them to me ONE BY ONE without causing me a hassle, as long as they aren't hardcore or ginormous. Claim $0 on the customs slip and label it as books. If you have any GRE study guides that you can get to me before the end of the year, I would love you! I haven't really discriminated in what I have read, but lately I've preferred more non-fiction type books. Instead of mailing them to the address I have listed on the right send them to this address:

Christopher Gallup

Cuerpo de Paz

Correo Central Atacames

Atacames, Esmeraldas, Ecuador, South America

If I do not see the mail lady hailing me down from three blocks away, I will be upset with everyone back at home! So without further ado, here's my story:

If you are a back book cover reader, much like myself, and had this been a book- you would have probably seen “Based on a True Story” or “Based on Actual Events.” Whatever you happen to fancy. Usually, that is enough to catch my interest, so I open it up, and what do I find: All names, places, and dates have been changed to protect the innocent. I will protect the innocent in this case.

Sometime between gym class and algebra, in high school, one would think that administration would have enough sense to teach their students how to shake a hand. Maybe even in college, between beer pong and toga parties, they could have squeezed Handshaking 101 into the curriculum. Hell, they could have made it a 099 class and gave it no college credit. The handshake has become so important that it can be a deal breaker. The quantum physics and organic chemistry of the handshake need to be incorporated into our education sometime before we are “grown up.”

The story really begins with Cristobal Guadalupe (remember we are protecting the innocent here) of Reese's Pieces Corps Equator. He was a member of Omni-camioneta 66, the single greatest group of missionaries in Reese's Pieces Corps Equator history. It was after a long day of tricycle shopping with another missionary in the area where the international incident occurred. It was late at night, well past 6:30 pm- the normal bedtime of the typical person in Cristobal's shoes, so he was understandably tired. A day of tricycle shopping in the searing heat would make even the most durable of people feel somewhat weak. His friends in town, Sharon and Pat, invited him to go talk to one of their friends. Being the social butterfly he was, Cristobal decided to go.

He had some formal training in the martial art of handshaking. He was in his twenty-fourth year of life, handshaking should come naturally by now. The subconscious should take over and make the perfectly firm handshake without worry. The long day had caught up to Cristobal and the weakness had transferred to the handshake. Little did he know at the time the importance of this particular exchange. The rest of the night and next few weeks went by without incident.

Cristobal met back up with his friends, Sharon and Pat, a few weeks later. That's when tragedy struck. News got back to Cristobal, “Cristobal, are you a racist?” He hadn't the slightest idea what his friends were talking about. “Our friend was worried the other week. He said you shook his hand awkwardly- somewhat hesitant. He asked us if we knew if you were a racist or not?”

A racist handshake- does even such a thing exist? In Equator, there were handshakes to signify sex, but none that he learned about in training to say, “Hey look! I'm a racist!” This had been the second time in a week that Cristobal had been accused of being a racist, the other being a story about meaning being lost in translation. He explained to his friends the circumstances of the handshake and they seemed to understand. He also redeemed himself with the friend of Sharon and Pat, giving a nice firm handshake each time thereafter.

After Reese's Pieces Corps, Cristobal became a lobbyist for a small group in the United Nations. He petitioned successfully for the abolition of the handshake as a form of greetings and deal makers around the world. The world is a better place with the Japanese bow as a salutation anyway.

Moral of the story: Practice handshaking on the creepily life-like Ecuadorian mannequins so you are not mistakingly labeled as a racist.

There is a big difference in city and campo living here in Peace Corps. I have experienced both extremes. The verdict is not in yet on which experience I am enjoy more. In the campo, I had a host family and people to talk to everyday. Always people wanting to play volleyball or soccer. However, most people no some of the nightmares I had living in the campo. No privacy. Bathing in the rio. Transportation everyday. Trekking through the mud to get to my latrine. I could go on, but that's the past- no point on dwelling on it.

Now I am a city volunteer. I go out to the campo every so often. The twist on my city life is that I live in a tourist town. There are many familiar faces here in town, but the problem is all of the familiar faces are from people who live in the campo or other towns close to Atacames. Why all this nonsensical writing? Well, integrating into my “community” has been difficult. I am very well integrated into the organization with which I work, but I do not have the connection to the people I live near. No real Ecua-friends here in town with to hang out with (co workers do not live in Atacames).

Something recently occurred to help my attempts at meeting new people. The mango tree in front of my house is packing lots of fruit. Now I get knocks on the gate everyday from the children in the area. “Por favor, regalame un mangito!” Usually, I have no problem with the kids climbing the tree (as long as they don't fall down and kill themselves). Professional tree climbers/fruit pickers. I came to Peace Corps looking for child labor and low and behold. It is nice to have visitors every so often now, even if they are only using me for my sexy mangoes. If only I had an orange, lemon or mandarina tree in my yard, I would have had an easier time integrating much sooner.

In sadder news, my camera is not functioning for now. I don't have the money or tools to properly fix it right now, so no lovely scenic pictures for a long while. It is amazing where this camera has been though, between the travels of me an my sister. Kenya. All over Europe. Argentina. Ecuador. Four of the continents isn't bad for one camera. Quite the world traveler it is.

Rubber boots? Check. Machete? Check. Tsa'chila to guide us through the forest? Check. There we were, five men, ready to embark on an extraordinary journey the jungles of the indigenous people of Santo Domingo, the Tsa'chilas. While we were not being chased by Nazis, didn't have a whip, or even a cool hat; the five of us were trying our hands at archeology in the best Indiana Jones fashion possible. Rumor had it that Incan, or pre-Incan, artifacts were easily found in the shallow river beds in the Tsa'chila communities.

Motive or incentive enough for us to lace up the rubber boots and blaze a trail along the river. An hour of searching- nothing. Then, out of nowhere, our guide discovered the first relic. However, this was not about him getting the glory. Our guide already had his own collection of these; it was our turn. More time passed and still nothing. Finally, Ryan, another volunteer, discovered his own piece of history. The goal before setting out, was for everyone to have their own piece of native culture in their hands. Then, luck seemed to turn in my direction. Not one, but two relics in the span of twenty minutes for my personal collection. What exactly did I find? Well, take a look:



That's right. Five men were knowingly going out in the jungle looking for penis... statues. You think it'd be easy for five guys to find that? Guess not! In the end, we found a total of six of these types of statues. Why is there an overabundance of penis statues in the river there? We have no idea. If anyone has any information that leads to the arrest, err wait, helps us better understand the meaning of these phallic statues, please send the information my way! Some of the theories presented are not appropriate for my PG rated blog! That pretty sums up my interesting weekend, five guys, six penises. Sounds like the name of the next sensation on Youtube.

The college years. Oh, how I missed when Saved by the Bell went to crap. No need to talk about Saved by the Bell, even though I could probably buy the DVDs somewhere in Quito (or maybe some other volunteer already has them). Many times, the different training groups, or Omnibuses (mine is Omnibus 99), are referred to as the different years of college. Makes enough sense. At any given time, there are four different training groups in the country.

Recently, Omnibus 99 completed its freshmen year. Filled with wide-eyed optimism and pledging to all the frats/sororities, we made it to our sophomore year. Good work 99. Omnibus 100 swore in last week, making them the new heirs to the frosh throne. It is easy to see parallels between the excitement, the frustrations, the ups and downs of my Peace Corps experience and college.

While as a whole, college was a great experience, each separate year had its own significance to me. Freshman year was exciting. All these new people and foreign experiences. Learning relatively new cosas. The newness of it all, in both college and Peace Corps. Most people can pretty much relate to the experience (except maybe Melissa). Sophomore year is when things began to get a little tough for me in college. It was then where I began to have most of my doubts. Did I really want to study this? Was I really interested in accounting as a major? Did I want to hang out with these people that were my “friends”? It was a confusing time in my life. I like direction to a degree, and, at that point, didn't know where I was heading.

Here I am, in my sophomore period of Peace Corps Ecuador. Lately, as I've said to many people, I have my doubts. I wonder how I'm going to last through my sophomore, junior and senior years here. Then I see the parallels between this experience and college. I didn't have a major until junior year. Some of my best memories and stories are from the last two years of school. Sophomore year of college was the collective hangover from the previous. I lasted through that year to meet some of my best friends and develop my wonderful taste for different beers! For now, I have my doubts during my sophomore year here, but I'm tough enough to last until the next training group gets here. (Plus I have a cool idea in the works)

That's all for now. I'm looking forward to the awesome shopping cart chairs and Swedish fish/marshmallow fights of junior and senior year. Lageman understands!

Sorry if you were using a search engine to find information about Living Poor, the book. It is a pretty good book and I do recommend it. There is always the saying floating around other volunteers, “That's so Peace Corps!” That may make you wonder what constitutes “so Peace Corps.” If there was a scale from one to ten (ten being most Peace Corps), modern science would not be able to calculate where I fit on this scale. That's right I am so integrated these days, that I am practically Ecuadorian, or I just look like a poor white man.

Exhibit A would be my house. Many people have already passed through the hallowed bamboo gate into my sanctuary. What's the response I get: “Your house is SO Peace Corps!” Yeah, visitors even use caps lock in their actual words. Being the overachiever, or cheap bastard, that I am, I decided to add to the Peace Corps-ishness that is my house. How could I hang up my new mirror, spend $0, and up my awesome factor a notch- take a look at Exhibit A1:



Is that rope hanging up that mirror? No, that would cost a precious few cents at the hardware store. Luckily in training, I learned the center of the banana leaf was used as rope.

On to Exhibit B, my ingenuity and my desire not to shell out another $8 for a mochila. Recently, the arm strap of my prized and somewhat famous knock off Puma backpack ripped in half. Once again, how could I raise the bar on my Peace Corps scale? Spend $0 for one and look the part of an Ecuadorian while at it. Here it is, my German engineering remake of my backpack arm strap thread:



No, I did not spend any money for that string. I had enough sense to steal it from work.

Finally, we have Exhibit C- the white t-shirt, or what in the past used to be a white t-shirt. I came into this country with an arsenal of white shirts, hoping that they'd last at least until someone came down to visit me with a restock. Was I wrong. Four months into site and the army of shirts is about destroyed. Whenever I go to work, I look like a kid who is dressed up as a car accident victim for Halloween. This picture does not really give the messiness of my white t-shirt collection justice, but it gets the point across:



Here I am in Ecuador. I pretty much live at the same standard as the people, though at times I look poorer than just about everybody else. Whatever, it just adds to my ever increasing Peace Corps vibe that I emanate. Maybe if I find out I have hookworm or some weird parasite dancing around in my stomach I can win a lifetime achievement award.

When signing up for the Peace Corps, you are told numerous times, “Peace Corps is a 24/7 job.” During training, or summer camp as I like to call it, you would never believe this saying is true. Surrounded by other gringos with all sorts of cool activities going on, life is pretty easy in the first ten weeks. Then you become a volunteer. Life changes and reality sets in. You begin to realize the job phrase was no joke. It is not just a job in the sense Americans think of work, day-to-day living is a challenge.

However, I am not writing this to gripe about the daily challenges, that is what I came to this country and Peace Corps for. I am writing about my theory on the importance of work and why it means that much to people back in the States. As I have stated in a previous entry, it is easy to let thoughts and emotions get the best of you. In the good ole U S of A, we have so many things to take our mind off of those thoughts and emotions. Television. Internet. A car. Most importantly- work. Sure work causes headaches all on its own, but it occupies so much time that you do not have time to be engulfed in the negative.

How does this relate to my Peace Corps experience? For one, let's just say I have it a bit easier having some semblance of a job. As I tell many people, it may not be the most rewarding work (lots of manual labor), but I least I have work to keep me occupied. Many volunteers cannot say the same thing. They struggle to find even some form of routine and that is the real challenge, I think, of Peace Corps. Without work, it is easy for doubts and other forms of pessimism to creep into your mind. It is even easier here in Ecuador because, for the most part, you do not have all of the amenities of home to keep your mind at bay. As I said, I have found myself battling the doubts just like every other volunteer, but I am fortunate to have a job to go to everyday.

So, while work may suck at home for you in the States, it still has some benefit. Try to stay alone with your thoughts for awhile and see how hard that can be. It is a 24/7 battle against those everyday here for every volunteer.

Everyone who knows me well from my childhood knows I would be lying if I said I hated “Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?” Where have I been in the last month or so (according to the last time I updated this)? Surprisingly... busy. I think. It was not the same type of busy nonsense that preoccupies us in the US. I'll label it as Ecua-busy. Better. I have been very Ecua-busy this past month. Sorry for making it seem like I have been dead for the past month. Where to start...

Once July hit, my mind was focused on one thing- escape from the campo. It was a lot like Escape from LA, minus Kurt Russell. Luckily, that came in the form of the best house for rent in all of Atacames. People keep asking how I was so lucky to get this house, so I guess I can explain. The first week here in Atacames I passed this house, keeping my eyes peeled for places to rent, and I thought to myself, “This would be an awesome place to live!” Time went on and I started hanging out with the married couple (other volunteers) one town over. They introduced me to their good friend- Lupin, a big Rastafarian. A very interesting guy, someone you can have an actual interesting conversation with, which is rare here with Ecuadorians. Eventually the married couple and myself began to talk about housing for me. It turned out the casa that I passed the first week belonged to Lupin. After two months of sewing seeds in Lupin's mind, Damon and Kat (the married couple) convinced Lupin to rent out his place. Now here I am, typing this up in my hammock looking at my plantain, mango and papaya trees in my yard.



Now when it comes to buying stuff for the house, luckily I am in a town that has a lot in terms of stores. However, a few weeks ago I saw a man selling mirrors in one hand and knives in the other. I thought to myself, “Other than someone thinking about suicide, who would buy those at the same time?” Doing my house shopping, I realized I have no mirror and I also need a cooking knife. That bastard! I still cannot find a cheap mirror for the bathroom. Where is that traveling salesman when I need him?

Other than housing work has kept me busy. It is still mostly just manual labor, but it is high season for cacao harvesting. I have been doling out some important lessons, nonetheless. Trying to explain The Price is Right and its rules when we are guessing how many bags of cacao we are going to fill is rather difficult. Game shows aren't too frequent here, so yeah. A bit tough. Another life lesson I have given at work is how to spend eight hours less peeling an orange. Ecuadorians love to take a knife or machete and take forever peeling their oranges. What did I do to combat this Ecuadorian epidemic? Taught them soccer mom style. Now the one guy I work with everyday, Dig, cuts his oranges into quarters. Here I am. Chris Gallup in Ecuador- changing the world, one sliced orange at a time.

The last thing that kept me busy was a little trip to a nice little beach town with about half of our group of volunteers. Mompiche is an hour and a half or so south of Atacames. It isn't completely inaccessible seeing as how buses run there during the day, but the differences between Mompiche and Atacames are pretty big. It was nice to celebrate our three month lock down in our sites with a bunch of friends.



For now, that has been my past month. Life should start to settle down once I am completely settled. Who knows though. With my new found independence maybe I will get out and see the country some more.

No, this is not my first blog entry, but I guess I should write why I joined the Peace Corps to begin with.

What I actually credit the Peace Corps to is the show Entourage on HBO. But that would be sad and too convenient to give credit only to television. It actually started around the time I was about to finish up college. The seeds of volunteerism (probably not a word but I like it) had entered my head. My sister had just left for Africa, Kenya to be exact, to help in an orphanage. I, for one, couldn't be more proud of her. It was a noble thing, but as a finance major, I was supposed to look for the banker-esque job that follows. However, I decided to put that idea on hold, as I had tickets to the World Cup in Germany right after school ended. I embarked on my backpacking journey through Europe for the month. There was my first taste of other cultures. One thing really changed my perspective, though. In Ulm (outside of Munich) we actually got to stay with a family for the night. Eating a few meals and getting to know their way of life, even if for a small amount of time, seemed to interest me.

My trip to Europe ended, but more seeds were sewn. I went back to the States, went back on the proper finance related job hunt. “We only want MBA students. You need a bit more experience. Why didn't you do an internship in college?” Being as smart and hard working as I am, I guess the recruiters did not think I was cut out for the rough life of banking. Oh well, luckily I still had the family landscaping business to fall back on. Now, don't get me wrong, landscaping (especially working with my brother) is one of the greatest jobs in the world. Physically demanding and sometimes with the headache-causing customers, mentally. Almost a year had passed since graduating college, I was helping run a business with my family, but I needed more.

I was looking for other jobs, but the desk or finance related job descriptions did not interest me all that much. I looked at some volunteer organizations, but at the time none of them made financial sense. Americorps only subsidized some of the living. Other volunteer organizations wanted a decent of money. Recently, I had bought the DVDs for Entourage. One episode, where Turtle and Drama are hitting on a girl about to join the Peace Corps. Had I completely forgot about the Peace Corps? All those commercials growing up. So I checked out the Peace Corps website. Two years! That is a long time. Would I be able to handle that? As most everyone does, I thought long and hard about those two years. I would learn or become fluent, hopefully, in a new language. I would experience a new culture, a new way of life. That was a bit too exciting to turn down. Another big thing, no money to shell out, besides the ridiculous medical stuff. I was not too idealistic, thinking I would change the world. I was there to help if the people needed or wanted it.

One thing lead to another, and here I am writing a blog from Ecuador. But why explain now my story of joining the Peace Corps? It is important for me to remember this. When my job description is so vague and I struggle to find meaningful work, I need to remember this. Two of the three Peace Corps goals are cultural exchanges, one being fulfilled by writing this blog. That was the main reason I joined the Peace Corps. Not that I do not want to help people in need, but better understanding of another culture is my main personal goal. If I can help people along the way, excelente! To anyone who reads this, remember why you joined whatever it is you are having difficulties with. If those goals are being satisfied, you have nothing to worry about.

Why does it turn out the negative aspects of life seem to be the funniest to talk about? That's right, I am going to be like everyone else and make a list of things I do not like about Ecuador.

1.Chickens, especially roosters. Does anyone remember when Chik-Fil-A was starting out. There was a billboard with a cow holding a sign “Eat mor chikin!” Those words never rang more true until I got here in the campo. 3 a.m. 3:07 a.m. 3:13 a.m. You get the picture. Roosters crowing, or as everyone here likes to claim “Cantando (singing),” is the main reason I have not gotten a good night's sleep in two months.

2.Camionetas (pick-up trucks as buses). I might get death threats by fellow Peace Corps volunteers for uttering these blasphemous words, but the greatness that is a camioneta ride has lost its appeal to me. Crowded. Not being able to sit. Rain. Unreliable schedules. I could probably make another blog entry on things I do not like about camionetas, but I will leave it at that.

3.Ants. When Frosted Flakes (the real deal) and milk cost a day's pay, you would be upset too if you found hormigas destroying your treasured box of cereal. The subsequent purchase of a can of Raid eats up another day's worth of pay. It seems to be a losing battle, since any dead insect seems to attract another swath of ants.

4.Ecuadorian communication skills or lack thereof. Sure, there is a language barrier that I have not fully overcome. However, when I understand directions I have been given clearly, I do exactly what I am told. When I got back from a two hour hike to someone's farm and wait for a camioneta for three hours all I got was, “No one told you to wrap those mazorcas in paper?” Unfortunately, all they told me was to make sure the mazorcas of cacao got there the same day. Oh well, I did not lose sleep over that one, but more incidences like that have occurred a few times to make my list.

5.Machismo. This one isn't that funny and I will probably talk about this more in depth in a future entry.

This quote on a wall in Atacames sums up how you overcome the negatives:



“I discovered that the good humor, the optimism and the faith can overcome the pain.”

It is easy to forget here in Ecuador that dogs are considered our best friends. Here they are treated like the animals, which I guess they are. In the US, especially in the Gallup household, dogs are treated like royalty. Fed real food, especially during holidays! They even get to sleep in our beds (assuming no fleas). Here, underfed, beaten and downright nasty. However, they serve their purpose as protectors of the casa. So yea, easy to forget that back at home my two pugs were/are some of my best friends and what I probably miss the most from home. Someone always excited to see you walk in the door.

So, with great sadness, I have to write an obituary for one of my best friends- Yoda. His name was more than appropriate in retrospect. While he couldn't speak (except for food), he was a wise dog. Being there through the formative years of life, it was always good to have a little friend who would sit there and listen to your problems. A parents' divorce. High school troubles. Life. He was there for some of the most confusing times of my life and never once complained. Thanks my friend for being there through thick and thin; being there for our family throughout these years. You will be missed. Rest in peace.

That's right I am going to write about homesickness. No- right now I am fine and have been the past few weeks. Sure, the first week here at my site was filled with mixed emotions and homesickness, but I've gotten over those. So why write about it? Well it is a common question from people here and at home. "Do you miss your family or being at home?"

Before I came here, even before I put my application into the Peace Corps, I knew that I would be stepping into a time machine, somewhat. The memories from home are going to be from a previous time and I will be changing. How does this pertain to homesickness? Well, for starters, it makes the idea of missing home make less sense. If I were to go home now, things would be pretty much the same. As more time goes by while I am here in Ecuador and that still remains the same, I'd be pretty damn upset. The inverse of that holds true, too. The more things change at home (for better or worse), I could get stuck asking myself, "I could have been there for that!" After that first week here, I just came to the conclusion that being homesick was just plain silly. It's a lose-lose situation if you think about it.

While listening to music doesn't really make me homesick, I've been finding it amusing how certain songs or albums stir up certain specific memories. TV on the Radio, taking the dogs on a walk on the beach in Long Branch. The Good Life, working with my brother. Or even an older one- Blink 182, going to Sea Girt for 7v7 summer soccer leagues with both my brothers and Tom Saal. I guess I am using my main form of entertainment here as a cure for homesickness. When I want to stir up certain positive images from home, I put on a certain song or album. With that said, if you want a great album to fall asleep to at night, get Spiritualized's album Pure Phase. Also, send me new music to help incorporate memories of Ecuador with certain songs!

Networking hasn't been the buzzword since college. I know, those days so far in the past. During college I shrugged off the responsibility of networking with the proper business people to land me the "proper" job. Look where it has gotten me. Living in a foreign country. Learning something new almost daily. And for the most part- enjoying life. So why do I mention networking, if life is full of sunshine and cheer? Well, for starters, I finally learned the real importance of the word. My new-found definition of the word is much different than what I thought it was.

Going to social events to get to know someone. Not networking, that's brown-nosing. Befriending a couple that run a hotel here in Atacames. When I came in with a bad cough, they offered me cough syrup. Eating breakfast regulary at one place where they give you an extra piece of bread in the morning. Maybe that's just customer satisfaction, but it's part of networking in my book. I guess you could consider these all parts of relationship building, but that is what my perception of what networking has come to signify. Establishing a meaningful web of people that help you through the day to day instead of people who can help you get a job sometime in the future- that's "networking."

Even if you don't think this is networking, realize the importance of some of the less personal relationships in your life. The little extra you receive from these relationships is enough to put a smile on your face.

Now for the exciting conclusion of this two-part blog entry. Given the vagueness of my job/site description, I will have to say that my main job is working with APROCA- Asociacion de Productores de Cacao de Atacames. For future reference I'll refer to this place as the center, it's easier and caters to my disdain of caps lock. First I would like to introduce you to my boss, Bruno:



Yeah, I get paid in paperclips. It's actually the currency down here in Ecuador. Aren't they worth more than US dollars now? Ok, that isn't really my boss, but I guess you could say he has seniority over me. That's the secretary/accountant's little son who is there everyday. Every 15 minutes or so he comes around and kicks the back of my leg. Other players in the center are Dick, but Ecuadorians can't pronounce the "ck" so it comes out as Dig. So I'll refer to him as Dig, saves me one letter. Dig might as well be my counterpart so far. This guy runs the center. Wihtout him, I do not know how an association of cacao growers would even function in Atacames. This guy plays the drums, piano, flute, electric guitar and whatever else you can play in a one-man band. He has me doing the not-so-bitch, bitch-work. I say "not-so" because it's tough work, and this guy was doing most of it by himself until I showed up. This work includes shoveling, sweeping, raking, lifting, packing and a whole laundry list of little jobs. Others that I see daily are Francisco, who is technically the secretary. He helps out a bit with the little jobs that I do when no one else is around. Veronica, Bruno's mother, is also there everyday. Other than those three, I would say there aren't that many more regulars in the center. There are random characters there each day, but I would guesstimate that no more than six people are there daily.

As for my counterpart, the person I'm supposed to be working alongside with, I have seen three days out of the many I've worked so far. I'm sure I will get to know him better as time goes on, but I find it amusing that he is my counterpart, not Dig. No big deal in the whole scheme of things. I'm working or at least helping in someway. As I keep saying to myself and other people, I have plenty of time to figure out what exactly it is I'm doing here. I guess to give you a little idea of the process of cacao and what the center does, here is a basic how-to:

Step 1 - Collection (Sorry no pictures, just pictures a wet garbage bag filled with crap)

Step 2 - Fermenting A 3 day process. It helps develop the aroma and flavor of the cacao:



Step 3 - Drying Another 3ish day process. Pretty much let the sun do its magic:



Super Marquesina - The better way to dry:



There are a few more little steps before the seeds get shipped off to get processed further (making chocolate), such as cleaning and refilling all the sacks. In a nutshell, that is what I am helping with for now. And remember the next time you take a bite out of the chocolate bar you are eating, ask yourself "Has Chris Gallup's feet been in the process of making this candy bar?"

Now that I have a new favorite TV channel and only watch telenovelas now (thanks Ecuavisa), I am going to make this blog entry a two-parter. Can you handle the suspense? I didn't think so. Truth is, I haven't taken any pictures of where I have been working yet. so I'll give you that half of my new life either later this week or sometime next. So, where to begin? Most everyone who reads this blog has already talked to me (or for you stalkers out there maybe not). But the living situation is no Cayambe. As I said in my previous entry, I am living in Playa Grande. When I first said this at my new place of employment, they started laughing at me, as I soon learned why. Playa Grande is tucked away in the mountains, hills, whatever outside of Atacames. The camioneta (pickup truck) I take can take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour and a half to get into town. It depends on the weather, time of day, or if someone wants to stop at the market along the way and hold up the camioneta for 20 additional minutes. But arriving at "home" feels great after some ofthese excessively long rides (here's a picture of home):



As for Playa Grande itself, there isn't much to it from what I have in these pictures. The little soccer and volley ball courts and a few houses. If I need anything I have to hope the camioneta swings by, but it is unreliable at best. On to living conditions- manageable. I would be lying if I said the next few months are going to be easy, but right now chanchos (pigs) and especially gallos (roosters) are making life hell. I am a light sleeper. I really don't need to explain myself there, it's basic arithmetic (that's English for math). Waking up at 4:30 in the morning and having difficulty getting back to sleep is not my cup of tea. Another gripe is showering in the river. When fish are biting at your ankles because they like to eat soap, you know you aren't anywhere near normalcy. As I also said in my previous entry, I'm built Ford tough, just not exactly those words.



The family I'm with seems very nice and everyone is concerned that I am feeling fine. It is going to be a bit more difficult to integrate with my family here than Cayambe, but I will manage. Whether it be through soccer or working a few days here in harvesting the cacao with Don Ochoa, I'll get into the swing of things in the campo. And this brings me to my final thought, enemies. Don't worry I haven't made any here...except one- myself. Back in the States and even in training, we had other people or at least trivial things to occupy our time and our thoughts. The past week (my first week here) I was left to myself. Everything unfamiliar. No one to really talk to- English speakers. So what happened? Self-doubt and anxiety plagued me for a good part of the week. "What did I get myself into? How am I going to survive these two years?" Questions along those lines. The past week was probably my low in terms of emotions, and it was my first as an actual volunteer. Overwhelmed- what did I do? I turned the thoughts around. Stopped thinking negatively and looked at where I was. Sure I may be on my own in something very foreign to me, but soon enough I'll have some form of my own life and routine. I realized that I cannot let negative emotions take me over. So my advice to you (whoever is out there reading), do not let yourself be your own enemy. If you start turning toward negative thoughts, try and turn them around. Look at the positives.



Finally, if anyone from the States (this includes future Ecuador Omnibusers, concerned parents of fellow Omnibus 99ers, or random bill collecters that speak English) reading this wants to text me or give me a call here is how to get in touch:

011-593-9-794-7761

Also, my new mailing address is on the right side there. Don´t send any heavy packages and claim $0 in value no matter what when sending stuff. Don´t send money. Other than that, I shouldn´t have too many problems getting mail.

As of April 17th, I am no longer a Peace Corps trainee, but rather a Peace Corps Volunteer (or PCV). It was a great two and a half months with my fellow trainees, but as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. To any other Omnibus 99ers out that read my blog, thanks for your support and friendship during training, and you all better keep in touch. To all that have commented or even just stalk my blog, thanks for reading my words thusfar.

But now here I am. Alone. No more daily routine of training. No fellow Omnibusers close to me. My work site is Atacames. Do not let that mislead you, though. My first three months of living and working aren{t going to be glittered with the glamour that is Atacames. My living situation (not quite ready until Monday) is in a community called Playa Grande (translates into Big Beach). That sounds cool, until you realize Playa Grande is 45 minutes down a dirt road actually no where near the beach. My living situation there does not look great, but hopefully I can survive for three months (when I can move into something more comfortable). I have no cell phone reception at home and getting back into Atacames looks like it is going to be a headache. Yeah, life will be rough until I can find my own place in the actual town.

So what{s the point of this entry? Right now, I feel like the start of a race. I am sitting at the starting line. The race official has already called Ready, and is now on Set. My heart is racing. All the nerves are on this race. It hasnt been since high school track that I have been this nervous. I see the ten hurdles in front of me, I can see the finish line. But the finish line seems so far away. Hopefully, once the gun goes off and the race begins, the adrenaline will keep me going. I only fell in one race in all of high school, so odds of falling in this race of my current life seem pretty low.

First off, I want to thank everyone who wished me a happy birthday, I feel so much older. I think a chest hair even sprouted. Go me! And a special thanks to my fellow aspirantes for coming over in the lovely ole Cayambe. En serio though, it was a good birthday for me. Even though it is a new family and a new group of friends, nothing was drastically different. Well, except that I am in South America, in the mountains, my family here looks nothing like me, but yeah- the same.



In other news, joining Peace Corps has made me realize my true calling in life. After my space camp dream was shot down by Andy, I had to go back to the drawing boards, literally. T-shirt design. That's what I was born to do. From Gidix's "Score All Night" slogan that I came up with years ago, to my newest design- the Official Omnibus 99 Camiseta. Ok, the design really isn't of my own creativity, but I added a mustache and boots. Yep, I'm the Picasso of the t-shirt business.

So, where to begin? These past two weeks have been jam packed with adventure and misadventure. I don't really know the difference. The first week of our trip was in Puerto Quito (about an hour and a half or 2 hours from Quito). I have not had the opportunity until now to experience the diversity that is Ecuador. Even from the busride from Tabacundo/Cayambe to Puerto Quito, the change in scenery is vast. You go from the somewhat bleak nature of the Sierra to a jungle in the clouds- the transitional zone of Ecuador. It is even amazing to spot the differences in crops. In the Sierra, a great deal of corn, potato, tomate de arbol (yes, tomato tree), and all the other stuff up here. However, along the highway en route to Puerto Quito, you are able to see the transition to more tropical crops. Cacao (chocolate's actual fruit). Platano. Maracuya (passionfruit). Yuca. The green is also more prevalant. Makes sense since you are moving away from the barren volcano mountains to mountains covered in tropical plants.



Anyway, enough about that. We arrived at our hotel in Puerto Quito and the first thought running through everyone's mind, "Welcome to paradise!" Somehow we managed to squeeze out classes during the week, but it was tough. Here is a quick list of facilities we had in our grasps- basketball, soccer & volleyball court, soccer field, pool, river, hiking trails, bar, ping pong and pool tables. Yeah, just another week at the office. Tough I tell you! As I said, we did have classes, and we really did learn a decent amount while in Puerto Quito. Lombriculture, raising tilapia, soil conservation, and integrated farms. I will attempt to add pictures into this blog entry to drive the point home. Two other places we visited during the week were Mindo, a famous spot in the world for butterflies and its biodiversity, and Pedro Vicente, a small town close to where we were staying.



Week 2 was a lot different and not as posh, but definitely one of the cooler experiences in my life. The coastal agriculture folks (that includes me) started off the week by heading to Il Poste (near Santo Domingo). If you look it up on Wikipedia or somewhere on the internet, I am sure you can find information on it. Il Poste and the surrounding area are Tsa'chila communities. One of those cultures you have probably only read about in National Geographic. While they are not completely cutoff from the real world, they like to keep there customs alive. From the native dress to the cleansing ritual, it was quite the cultural experience. I am even now part of Tsa'chila history- I was the first person to accidentally break a wooden spear in half when doing target practice. Our living situation for two nights was a straw hut, a straw mattress on top of three wooden planks and a severe lack of mosquito/annoying gnat protection. I looked like I got chicken pox all over again.



The rest of the week wasn't as exciting as our time with the Tsa'chilas but it was rewarding none-the-less. First, we went to El Empalme (I think in the Guayas province). The days there were super tech packed but a whole bunch of useful information. Empalme was a pretty sketchy town, but we all enjoyed ourselves. After two nights staying there, the coastal agriculture people working with cacao headed to Vinces (about 3 hours south of Empalme). Before talking about how awesome Vinces was, I have to note the view on the busride again. Passing these grand Dole and Chiquita banana plantations is quite the site to behold. I guess you can liken it to corn in parts of the United States, but it was still quite impressive seeing a mar of banana/platano/whatever. Back to Vinces, or the mini Paris of Ecuador. It even has its own mini Eiffel Tower. It is difficult to describe why Vinces was so nice, but the atmosphere at night, walking along the river was great. And unfortunately for whatever reason, I have no pictures of Vinces because I forgot to sacar mi camara. One of our language facilitators said Vinces is very similar to Atacames, the difference being an ocean in Atacames instead of the river. It makes me a bit upset that our site visits got cancelled, but now I am pretty damn excited for my actual work.



I guess that is it for now, hopefully I can get these pictures integrated into the blog properly for you all.

I`m alive and living in luxury for now. I will have some great pictures for you in a week or so when I return from my vacation.... errr work.

I need DVDs and some new music here. Just make sure you do not send a package over 3 lbs or the headache I have to go through getting it is now worth it. We have a good video exchange going on amongst ourselves here, but I need some new music at least. I know you are really wondering how I go about obtaining new movies here on my extravagant salary of $5 a day. Well, every legit store here is also a bootleg DVD store. If I need to buy bread or fruit, there better be the Chuck Norris 5-movie set for sale in the back of the store or I begin to question the legitimacy of the store. Is this bread poisoned? Are these really apples I am purchasing? With bootlegs hanging up in the back, I know the answer. Going to the docotr's or dentist's office I better see the diplomas hanging up. The same applies to stores here in Ecuador, except the business owner PhD is a great copy of a new movie. I'll add my mailing address (for now) on the right side of my blog if you do not want me to suffer.

On a serious note, I am fortunate in my education in the States and the travels I have done. I have touched on this before, about the relativity of prices in the United States to here. First let me explain the size of Ecuador a bit. I am no expert, but I will guess that Ecuador is maybe half the size of Pennsylvania. Not that big. However, travel time wise, Ecuador is huge. If you are in the northern Sierra (Andes) in Tulcan and you want to travel down south through the Sierra to Loja- the trip could take about a day. To go from east to west in the country isn't as harsh, but travel time is still intense when you factor in the weaving through the Andes. So why is this all important? In size Ecuador is tiny, but when it comes to travel the country can feel like the size of the United States at times. This makes it difficult for Ecuadorians to experience much of their own country. Many are limited to exploring the local area when it comes to travel. When I go to explain that I have only been to a little bit of the United States, I try to remind them that we are almost on the same page.

Using my photos of my trip to Europe, photos I take here, and Melissa's pictures of Buenos Aires, I can open up a door to the rest of the world for the family. They get a slightly better grasp that the world is different then they thought. A map of the world showing the giant ketchup stain that is the United States and the pin prick of Ecuador. Both of those make it easier showing the scale of both countries. Add in pictures of worldy travels, and the scope comes full circle. I guess I am a good Peace Corps lackee so far, fulfilling the first two goals of the organization through the cultural exchange.

No excuses. No, this is not my motto for life or anything while I am down here in Ecuador. No excuses is what I expect out of people when I ask them to come visit me down here in Ecuador. Why am I saying this? Well, today was the big day. Site Day. Now I know where I will be living for the next two years of my life. I must be driving you all mad with the suspense over the course of these few sentences. I guess I will leave you in suspense a bit more and give some backstory. Last week, the Agriculture trainees saw all of the potencial sites for future work. We were told to rank our top three spots. From what I have told people in e-mails, Vilcabamba (near Loja), Cotacachi (where that lake is in my pictures), and one other were my top three. Naturally, I did not get one of my top three choices.

It isn't all bad news, however. What would have probably been my number four choice got selected. Atacames. If you go pull out your pocket guide to Ecuador, you just saw that I am going to be living in one of the best beach towns (and allegedly amazing surf) in Ecuador. The project has something to do with coffee and business, but I won't go into details until after my site visit next week. I know, you are all very excited for me right now, but there's at least one catch with living in paradise, right? Of course. Looking through the packet of information I received today, I noticed one interesting tidbit. My shower. My three options- the river, the ocean or the community hose. Small price to pay for glory (hopefully).

So yeah, there is no excuse to not visit me in Ecuador if this site turns out to be as good as everyone says it is. Just a small note at the end here, I will be traveling for the next three weeks for training. Next week- Atacames. Week 2- Puerto Quito. Week 3- Santo Domingo. Internet should be accessible in most of these places, but how often I will get to update this in the next three weeks is questionable. Get those plane tickets ready in a few months!

Quick Update: The site visit for next week got cancelled due to the flooding around Ecuador. The area around my site is fine, but the majority of southern sites are relatively inaccessible.

I wish there was a sign when I entered Ecuador- "You Must Be This Tall to Ride This Country!" Just the other day, five times. That's right, five times. Five times, what? If you haven't guessed, the amount I hit my head either on the bus or exiting the bar in one day. Today was a shining beacon of my experience, it's the typipcal life in Ecuador thusfar. I was finishing up lunch, the usual arroz con pollo (go look that up if you want more Spanish training), and "BAM!" The five foot nothing doorway had its way with me. It romanced my cabeza with sweet-nothings. On the same note, I did not know origami was a prerequisite for the Peace Corps. In order to fit into my seat on the bus, I need to take six years of yoga. If I do not know the "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," I cannot fit into my bus seat. I guess there are some disadvantages to being 6'2" and blonde in a foreign country. As enjoyable as twelve-year-olds whistling and howling at me is, it is somewhat awkward. I'll get used to it. To change the pace a bit, many people are curious about my training class. One word sums it up pretty well, great. Even though we have only known each other for three weeks (close to a month now), we feel like family. It has been easy to fit in with this group of people. Some people share that same awkwardness that I tend to project, or at least understand it. Many people here make it easy to feel like I am at home, or at least miss my dogs (and sister, sorry Melissa) a wee bit less. Anywho, this week and next, I find out future work sites. So far, there are two or three sites that really interest me, one near Loja, one in Cotacachi, and one on the coast. Two of the three are very easy to visit as an American (hint, hint). I will let you know more in the next week or two, in case you really wanted to come down here to Ecuador. So yeah, if you are over six feet and plan to visit Ecuador, cut off either your ankles or knees so you will have no trouble feeling comfortable. Or learn origami.

The "M" in my middle name no longer stands for Matthew, but rather "Misinformation." In the past two weeks I have been here it has been hard to quantify the amount of times I have actually said something horribly wrong. Here are two quick ejemplos (yea more Spanish lessons for you all):

The first night I was here, I had a somewhat long conversation with my host mother. We were talking about life and family, the usual. In the flow of the conversation she asked me how many sobrinos I had. Being the greatest Spanish speaker to grace this Earth and remembering my high school Spanish family tree assignments, I told her thirteen or so. After that, she asked how long my brother had been married, so I told her a year and a half. I wondered why she gave me this bewildered look when I told her that, but I did not lose sleep over it. The next day I had a conversation with my new best friend, the University of Chicago Spanish-English Dictionary. After a quick charla (chat) with my friend, he told me that sobprinos meant nephews, not cousins like I had thought (primos is cousins in Spanish). So yeah, my brother has been busy over a year and a half. Keep up the good work!

The other night was another one of these instances, not as detailed but amusing none-the-less. the conversation of the night was another session of a "How much does that cost in America?" We eventually got to talking about education and my host father asked how much one year of school cost. Again, you have the best Spanish-speaking American here in Ecuador, so I told him. $500,000 per year. That sounds about right, no? I guess it feels like that much to the average American.

There are probably countless other little gems similar to those cases that I have said, but so far those two stand out as beacons of hope for our culture. The United States is filled with multimillionaire, sex-crazed (or fertility drug crazed) newlyweds. It's not that far off from the truth, I guess.

On another note, if you ever plan to live somewhere that isn't the US or probably Europe, bring Fabreeze. Yes, I am a Fabreeze shill. Picture me holding the bottle in some cheesy, commercial-like fashion. My room smells like mierda. If you have half a brain and scored higher than a 600 on your SATs you can figure ou thee contextual meaning of mierda. Fabreeze would remedy so many weird and sometimes horrid smells. A product like Fabreeze does not exist in Cayambe, so I have put a bounty on its head. Whoever finds it first here wins a dry, flavorless cookie from the panaderia I go to after lunch everyday.

That's it for now sportsfans, I'll try to get some pictures in sometime soon. I just forget to take them, so really do not have many yet. Oh if you here about flooding in Ecuador on CNN, I´m probably fine.

Ok, there is a link on the right for my Photobucket album, if it doesn´t work let me know.

While the language barrier is a bit difficult sometimes, the hardest message to get through to my family so far has been relativity. I told them a cheap used car in the United States is $6000, and that a cheap new car is around $16,000. Following that comment, the flood of questions on the precios of goods in the United States began. Yes, the Ecuadorians do not have the standard of life that Americans do (well with my host family that's debateable), but the price of living to the price of goods is relative to wage. In our conversation earlier in the week, my host father could not comprehend the extreme prices of goods (and services) in the US. However, later in the week, I was talking with my host mother for a bit. Surprisingly, after explaining how much it cost to live in Hoboken versus the wage Lageman makes, it clicked. America is an expensive place, a place with more cosas to keep us busy. Who would have thought I would try to explain the shitty housing market and why milk is so pricey in the United States.

It has been a good week, though. During last weekend, I was having my doubts about being able to last in Ecuador, but I have had some nice breakthroughs. I now have another little sister (sorry Melissa). When I first arrived and for the first few days, she was very shy; which is understandable since I'm the first Peace Corps volunteer for this family. Con la ayuda of some paper airplanes and some English lessons, I was able to get her to open up. Now that I have a new little friend, it makes it much easier to cope with the fact of being away from my real family.

For those wondering my typical day, for now (it will change in 10 weeks), I'll indulge. This week I have woke up at 6:30 each morning. I get a breakfast of eggs, fruit, milk and some sort of blended juice type of drink. I leave and catch the bus at 7:15. This week has been very Spanish class focused, so pretty much class from 8 to noon, then lunch, and then more class from 1:30 to 5-ish. Usually, I have done something for an hour after finishing class, from playing basketball to going through Cayambe for assorted stuff (like a USB device). When I get home I have a nice dinner (or merienda). Every night for dinner I get aguite de manzanillas, or chamomile tea made with the actual herb boiled in water. I chat with my host mother and sister until 8 or so. Finally, I go up to my own room (yes, I have my own little palace here), and watch some futbol while listening to my I-pod.

You are all welcome for the little Spanish lesson I snuck in there.