Giving Thanks

I have decided to write this blog in order to focus on giving thanks to the people, places, and experiences that Ecuador has given me. The stories I will tell occur during different time periods, but these are the memories that stick with me as I try to bring closure to the past two years in Ecuador. I am forever changed by having lived here, and I don´t quite honestly know how I will live without this simplistic yet rich country I now call ¨home.¨


Meet Doña Rosita- a simple woman, living on the coast of Ecuador, originally from the sierra. She has a husband, and lots of kids. Every day Doña Rosita sits on a bench outside of the hotel that her and her husband now own, watching the neighbors pass by. Owning her own hotel was no simple feat. Doña Rosita worked for 20 years selling ice cream cones on the street, saving up enough money to one day fulfill her dream. Everyone in town knows and greets her, just as they do with everyone else in town. Everyone knows and greets everyone, that is the way of life. Despite the town´s reputation for being slummy and dangerous, the is an underlying respect that residents have for one another. Doña Rosita and her husband are no exception- they treat everyone with respect, love, and honesty. I fell into this experience on accident, and have had the privilege of greeting Doña Rosita from time to time. As a guest in her hotel, Doña Rosita has taken it upon herself to not only give me fresh towels and collect my money at the end of my stay, but to treat me as though I was her own daughter, regardless of how little we actually know one another. Doña Rosita refers to me as ¨mija,¨ meaning ¨my little daughter,¨ and has never asked me my actual name. Doña Rosita knows how much I love coffee, and in a town like this one finding coffee can be rather difficult. Because of this, Doña Rosita knocks on my hotel room door every morning with a fresh cup of Nescafe coffee (comparible to Folgers Instant Coffee in the USA.) She serves it to me in a big glass mug, with a napkin and spoon on the side. When she doesn´t climb the 4 flights of stairs to bring me coffee, she send her husband to get me. ¨Bajense mija! Ya esta la agua hervida!¨ (Go downstairs dear! Your hot water is ready!¨) Upon arrival to the kitchen, Doña Rosita serves me up a plate of hot plaintains mixed with onion and garlic, the local breakfast in this town. When I try to resist, or offer to pay her for the food and coffee, the response is usually ¨Don´t be crazy...you are too skinny, you need to eat.¨ Far from skinny, I know that Doña Rosita is just being polite. I share this example with you because, to me, it is a representation of what this country is all about. There is a genuine desire to be generous and kind with all people, regardless of how much money you may have. This style of living is one of the aspects of Ecuador I will miss most.


The next experience that sticks in my memory occured a couple of weeks ago, in Santo Domingo (my home) with a bunch of kids I now call family. Unfortunately, this experience will have to forever be remembered only by memory, as all my photos from this day were lost when my camera was stolen not long ago. Saying goodbye to the children of Laura Flores was one of the hardest things I have had to do as of yet in the Peace Corps. After two years of spending time with them, they have become to feel like my little children. I worry, care, and love them as if they were my own. I will miss them, almost, more than anything else here. My despedida (goodbye) with the kids occured at the local movie theater. From reading previous blogs, you will know that kids + movie theater = DISASTER, so you may be wondering why I decided to put myself in this situation once again. Well, I just did. We used the leftover money from the Scholarship Project in order to take roughly 60 children from barrios Laura Flores and Cristo Vive to the movies. The event took lots of coordination, time, and love. Each child got a hamburger, french fries, and a soda after the movie (yes, very healthy.) Most important for me, I was able to say goodbye to all 60 kids who I love so dearly. The saddest part about this was to see the innocence on each of their faces. ¨Where are you going? When will you be back?¨ Some of the kids recognized that I was actually leaving, and started to cry. Some gave me little letters or bracelets to remember them by. They each personally hugged me and said their goodbyes. I will never forget this experience, because each of these children, despite their poverty and family hardships, showed me genuine love and respect. Each child was grateful and sincerely happy from only recieving something as little as a hamburger. I gave each of them my email address, and told them that I will always be around for them whenever they need me. I hope one day, we they are older, they will write to me and tell me how they are doing.

My last memory, or example, (or whatever these are,) is a way for me to express my view that living simply is better. Having less rather than more is really the way to happiness. People say that people who are poorer are happier, I now know that to be true. Here is an example of why simplicity works: It is custom for Ecuadorian´s to take atleast one, if not two, hours for lunch. Ecuadorian people, in general, put less importance on working long hours and more importance on family, food, and happiness. Lunchtime in Ecuador is a wonderful sight. Each town has restaurant, after restaurant, after restaurant all serving the same thing - almuerzos (lunch.) There may be some slight variation to what lunch entails at any given restaurant, but you can always depend on: soup to start the meal, meat or fish with rice for the second course, a small desert, and a big glass of fresh juice. Almuerzos are the best thing that has happened to me in Ecuador. Just walk into any restaurant, sit down, and ask for lunch. Two seconds later, lunch is served. Everyone eats the same thing, no one complains or asks for anything different, and it always costs 2 dollars. It is the best deal, the best food, and it is a really easy way to live. Last week, my fellow Peace Corps volunteers and I had our Close Of Service conference in Quito. We spent a lot of time talking about what we will miss most about Ecuador, and what we would like to share with Americans upon our return to the United States. Across the board, PC volunteers talked about their love for almuerzos (lunches.) In the United States, as we all know, there are 50 things to chose from when sitting down for lunch. Some people are vegetarian, others don´t like cooked vegetables, some like their meat red, others well cooked. None of these things are bad, and I would be hypocritical to judge others for simply having likes or dislikes, but it has been interesting for me to see that people are happier when things are kept simple. A fellow Peace Corps volunteer shared a personal story at the conference that went something like this: An Ecuadorian son walked into his house at lunchtime, sat down at the kitchen table, and waited for his mom to serve him lunch. ¨What do you want for lunch today, son?¨ the mom asked. ¨Whatever you serve me is exactly what I want.¨ People here are sincerely grateful for having food on their plate, a house to live in, and parents that love them. They don´t complicate things, and certainly don´t complain. My goal in sharing this is not to criticize or judge the country I was born in, but to learn from my experiences here and try to live a happier life than I did in the past.


Thanks to everyone for reading my blogs over the past two years. It has been wonderful having this outlet to share some of my thoughts and experiences. If anyone has any questions about the Peace Corps or further questions about my experience, I am happy to share with anyone and everyone!

First Day of School

I know some of you don't have Facebook so here are some photos from today...


Jenifer Mendieta

Marena Loor and Jose Rodolfo

Justin Holguin

Angie Manzaba

classroom

Project Dreaming For A Change Begins

After a late start to the school year here in Santo Domingo de los Tsachilas, we are proud to announce that, finally, our project of giving scholarships to more than 25 children in el barrio Laura Flores is off to a great start.

For those who have not checked out the video, my friend Megan and I spent two months creating a short documentary which portrays the lives of 25 kids living in extreme poverty in one of Santo Domingo's most impoverished and at-risk neighborhoods, Laura Flores. Below is the link to our Facebook page, where you will find the short movie and info about the project. Take a look!

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Dreaming-for-a-Change/262619603816610

Thanks to our wonderful sponsors from Seattle, Florida, New Jersey, and California, yesterday we were able to take 25 children and their families on our first round of "back to school shopping." Sponsors donated their time and resources to provide children access to education, for some it will be the first time they have ever been to school. Donations covered general schooling costs: uniforms (which are required for study in Ecuador), backpacks, shoes, notebooks, pencils, pens, etc. Yesterday's events can be described in two simple words- absolute chaos. Heres how it went down:

The day started off with an early bus ride to the neighborhood Laura Flores. Kids and families were found in the local school, where the majority of sponsored kids will be studying this upcoming year, cleaning up and getting ready for the Monday morning school inauguration. Broken desks and books were scattered around the play yard. Kids kicked soccer balls and played as mothers and fathers re-painted cracked walls, swept out classrooms, and picked up trash. Laura Flores is situated on an old citywide garbage dumpyard so, as you can imagine, trash is endless. The mission of the day was to take the 25 kids and their mothers on an all-day shopping spree in Santo Domingo's mercado. While this may sound like an easy task, it isn't. Weaving 25children through rows and rows of fruit, vegetables, clothing, dead cows and chickens, and robbers awaiting us on every corner, somehow we managed to make it out alive. The most difficult part of it all was the fact that we had to bring along $1500 dollars, in a mercado notriously known for theft. Money was shoved under our shirts and pants, and only removed when purchasing materials.

Negtiating fair prices for 25 kids' uniforms was a chaotic event in itself. The dialogue went something like this:

Give me a size 36!
We don't have 36!
Not white, we need blue!
How many?
25!
How much for each?
$13!
Are you crazy?!...we will pay 10.
No way!
Alex, stop hitting your sister.
Justin, don't steal those pants!
Mia, Mia, Mia, Mia, Mia, Mia, Mia, Mia, what time are we leaving?!

It took us 9 hours total to purchase backpacks, uniforms, shoes and socks for our 25 kids. This dialogue proceeded in every single shop we went into. Sweating, feet aching, and an even worse headache, we accomplished our mission. Kids went home smiling, each with their new backpack on their back and shoes in hand. Photos to come tomorrow! Check out our Facebook page for photo updates and videos.

Thank you sponsors!

Marta, Charlie y Monos

One of Ecuador's jungle provinces, known as Napo, is home to many interesting people, animals, and natural resources. By far my favorite province so far, Napo's friendly indigenous communities and mischevious monkeys made for an unforgettable experience. Here are some of the people I met during a week-long medical brigade in the pueblo called Misayualli and surrounding communities:

Marta- A 28 year-old female living in a one-story, wooden hut built on sticks to provide protection from torrential rains and poisounous snakes, spiders, and more. A mother of one child, and sibling of many, Marta lives in extreme poverty in a community far into the jungle. We entered her home to find about ten people huddled around on the floor, dirty clothes hanging from the ceiling, an eery silence and fearful eyes from Marta's family members. In the corner we saw Marta. Covered in blankets it was hard to see the little flesh that still hung from her bones but it was apparent she was unhealthily skinny, her skin color (normally very dark) was nearly white, with cracked lips and sunken-in eyes. Our last patient of the day, Marta.
Our medical brigade team consisted of rougly 6 doctors, 4 nurses, a handful of translators (including myself), and 40 volunteers from Microsoft in Seattle. Our mission was a week-long quest into the jungle, treating more than 100 patients a day for 5 days. Doctors, nurses, translators, and volunteers were split up within 8 communities and each day brought new stories and memories never to be forgotten.
Marta's hut could fit no more than 5 of us at a time, with fear of her house falling down, so I was sent with a doctor and an emergency nurse to help her. The trouble was the extreme lack of ability to communicate, not because of language differences but because of cultural differences which made it hard to get the right story. Marta and her family speak Qhechua, one of Ecuador's indigenous languages, so we ultimately were playing a game of phone tag that went something like this:
Doctor: Marta, how long have you been sick?
Me: Por cuanto tiempo ya estas enferma?
Quechua Translator: translate Spanish to Quechua
Marta: reply
Send back the other way.
This went on for about an hour, but the end result left us with frustration and confusion. Marta and her family, according to them, had no idea what happened to her. She did not fall, she was not beaten by her husband, she had no infeccion, they simply told us, "the doctors told us she was sick." Marta had visited the doctors office two months ago, but the family did not have money to keep her there so they brought her home. So there she layed, for two months on a wooden floor, dehydrated, and ready to die. The head doctor for Marta was nervous, she wanted Marta out of there immediately and insisted she go to the hospital. After giving her an IV, we carried her out of the hut, onto our bus, and to the hospital. We left the next day, it is still a mystery what happened.

Charlie: An 11-year old boy from the same community as Marta, atleast an hour from any larger town, very isolated in the jungle. Driving up to Charlie's community, I noticed signs for oil companies (PetroEcuador) and, not surprisingly, was aware of the great presence that oil companies held in this region. I am not sure of the relevance of that information with what I will go on to explain- but, only time will tell. Charlie is son to a mother of five and is one out of four other siblings that suffer from severe mental disabilities and retardation. Charlie is 11, yet he acts as though he is 3 or 4 years old. He was one of the cutest kids I have ever seen, I was instantly drawn to him. Yet Charlie's life is, unfortunately, at risk and unless he recieves further help from Timmy (the medical brigade foundation) could potentially die before he gets much older. Charlie looked sickly, although he wanted to be fun and playful he had a hard time breathing, his forehead was dripping with sweat, and held a severe cough. Not to mention it was hard to interact with Charlie, and he was unresponsive to the doctors or myself. Alone, just Charlie himself, this case would seem manageable. A child with health problems, mental retardation, those cases happen. But, one of four in the family? Charlie, his two sisters, and brother, all suffered from similar symptoms. Here was a family, sitting with us, every one of them suffering from some type of severe ailment. It was scary.
The doctor and I spent over an hour with the family, trying to figure out what could possibily be going on. This family, shockingly, was one amongst MANY families we saw that day that suffered from mental disabilities. Something was wrong, very wrong, in this town. What was going on? Was it the extreme isolation that the community faced, causing for inter-breeding which leads to disabilities? Was this an environmental issue, potentially caused from the nearby oil companies we saw on our drive there? Were people being poisoned? It was shocking.
Charlie and his family will be referred to Quito, where they will recieve medical treatment for Charlie's enlarged liver, other ailments, and hopefully help with his mental disability. Thanks to the Timmy Foundation, the community will continue to be seen and hopefully more evidence will be presented about what is going on there. Only time can tell.

Monos: Mono in Spanish means monkey. I used to love monkeys, well, I still do. But I never realized how mischevious and annoying they can be at times. Misayulli, the pueblo we were based in, is home to hundreds of monkeys who sit around in the town plaza, waiting for tourists and locals to turn their heads away. When they do, the monkeys quietly sneak in, steal whatever they can, and run away before the victim has even realized what happened. They are aggressive, outgoing, and kind of terrifying. I, unfortunately, or fortunately, was a victim to the monkeys twice during my stay in Misayulli. The first interaction occurred in the town's local bar. We were sitting down, eating patacones (fried plantains) when all of a sudden, in walks a monkey. He creeps into the kitchen, steals a bowl full of eggs which he carried out in his hand, and bolts for the plaza. The owner of the restaurant chased after him with a broom, but, she was too slow and lost alot of eggs that day. The monkey then sat, facing the restaurant, and quietly cracked open each individual egg, lining them up in a row after sucking out the eggyoke from each one. He had an expression as though he was completely justified for stealing so many eggs, and sat pleasantly to enjoy the snack. I thought he was really cute, of course, so I went to sit next to him. He didn't seem to mind, as my friend and I sat there talking, watching him eat. We looked away for one second, and I felt something touching my leg. I look over, and the monkey has his paws on me, staring at me in the face.
Monkey interaction number two was even more bizarre, and I am pretty sure a lesson from my grandma Oma. It happened within 15 minutes of the first interaction, with the same monkey who apparently did, or did not, like me I am not sure which. We were having a couple of beers, and I had a pack of cigarettes in front of me on the table. I turn my head because I was getting good at spotting out the monkeys before they attacked, and see a monkey slowly climbing down the pole near where I was sitting. I wasn't worried this time, though, as I was prepared. I spotted him! He could do no harm...wrong. All of a sudden, Mr. Monkey leapt forward, put his hands on my shoulder, grabbed my pack of cigarettes, and ran away! WHAT?! I was shocked, again.
You may think that is funny, I did too. Well, I turned around to watch him run off with my recently opened pack of cigarettes and, as if out of a movie, he began dropping them down one by one from three stories up AND, slowly walked across the telephone wire with A CIGARETTE IN HIS MOUTH. You've got to be kidding me, you crazy monkey! I don't know how often that happens in Misayulli, although I don't think it is uncommon, but I take it as a sign from my grandma Oma to stop smoking. I get it, I do.

These were only three of the hundreds of people that truely impacted my life during this past week in the jungle. I will never forget the amazing trip we had and will be doing more of them later on this year. Thanks for listening!

"Dinner" and a Movie

The little things that are taken for granted. A hot shower, a walk through the grocery store, a 0.25 cent busride. These things occur in my daily life without being given a second thought. It's not until I go into the poorer neighborhoods of Santo Domingo that I realize these commodities, for many people, are rare.

Wednesday afternoon was movie day for the kids of barrios Laura Flores, Cristo Vive, and 12 de Octubre (the three neighborhoods that our organization, Sonando por el Cambio, works in.) Santo Domingo's mayor, a follower of our project, donated 60 movie tickets to our organization to take the kids on a field trip. The majority of the kids had never been to the movie theater before so, needless to say, it was an exciting day for them. Not quite as exciting for myself, though, as I was responsible for all 60 children, as my coworkers had other acitivities to take care of that day. After being in Ecuador for nearly a year and a half, my concept of "being on time" has altered tremendously and I no longer hold great importance in being punctual (being on time just does not happen in Ecuador.) So, we arrived for the 3:00pm movie at 3:20pm. Sprinting down the hallways of Santo Domingo's shopping plaza with 60 kids towards the movie theater, a memory that will never be forgotten. Dodging in and out of shoppers, dragging kids by their arms and legs who fell behind, screaming and laughing as we went, it was quite the sight to be seen.

I'm not sure why I thought I would be able to actually watch the movie we had tickets for. The most I probably sat down to see was a maximum of 2 minutes. Within the first 30 seconds inside the movie theater, atleast 10 kids were screaming my name from the top seats of the theater, they needed the bathroom. "Ok, lets go..." I said. As I waited for them outside of the bathroom, atleast 4 or 5 more would pop out, they, too, needed the bathroom. I waited 5 minutes, then 10 minutes for the kids. After getting impatient, I entered the bathroom to find them not washing their hands or using the bathroom, but instead blowdrying their hair under the hand dryers. I couldn't help but laugh at them, and ask them what they thought they were doing. After basically washing their hair in the sink, they had fallen in love with the fancy hand dryers and were crowded around them to get a turn.

Five more minutes after our return to the movie, a handful more of kids "needed the bathroom." Off we went, again, but this time it wasn't the hand dryers they were after. They wanted popcorn. I accompanied them to the concession stand to watch, painfully, as the kids asked the attendant the prices of every single item the store had to offer. "Three dollars, two dollars, a dollar fifty," she responded coldly as my children got more and more discouraged, as they recounted the 0.20 or 0.30 cents they held in their hands. "It's ok you guys," I explained. "Movie theaters are always really expensive, let's not waste our money here." Trying to make them feel better about the situation was hard, I realized, because all the kids wanted was a snack during the movie. Those kids who did conjure up the sufficient 0.80 cents needed for a tiny candybar walked away unsatisfied, dividing up the meager treat amongst their friends. The realization that these kids had just bought over-priced candy, wasting the 0.80 to $1 their parents could barely afford to give them was heartbreaking for me.

Returning to the movie, I was able to watch a couple more minutes of the movie until the next interruption. "Mia! Mia! Mia!" the kids screamed and ran down to my seat. "Why does it say on our ticket that they will give us CENA?" Looking at their ticket, I see that on each ticket is written, "SENA." Cena, in Spanish, means dinner. As Cena and Sena are similarly spelled, and many of the kids cannot read very well, the rumor had been spread that dinner was on the way. Sadly, I had to explain to them that they don't serve dinner in the movie theater, and that it doesn't say CENA but SENA.

After many more interruptions and occurences, the movie ended and we shuffled everyone to their buses to head home. Reflecting on the afternoon, I was left with saddness for the unfairness and inequality that exists even within a city like Santo Domingo, let alone the rest of the world. Tucked under sheet metal and cardboard houses, these kids will probably never make it out of their social class, even if they want to. Over the course of a year and a half here in Santo Domingo, I have met kids who blow my mind away with their intelligence and desire to do something great with their lives. A 15 year old girl the other week who wants to become Santo Domingo's first woman guitar player to perform publically, a 13 year old boy who wants to be an architect and study engineering, an 11 year old boy that loves math and got 100% on his exam last week. One can only hope they will find a way out of their barrios, out of falling into the norm which is, it seems, to have a baby at age 15 or 16, to live on the streets or join a gang.

A very unique afternoon at the movies...

Philosophy of Rehabilitation Center for Kids

Por que estamos aqui
Estamos aqui, porque queremos ser personas nuevas.
Con deseos de luchar y transformar nuestras vidas
Y nuestros comportamientos.
El dia que nos enfrentamos con nosotros mismos
Comenzaremos a cambiar y a crecer
Expresando los sentimientos
De ira, rechazo y soledad, seremos diferentes.
De lo contrario, no podremos dejar nuestros viejos e inutiles habitos.
En nuestra comunidad, podremos darnos la mano, comprendiendonos, respetandonos y amandonos es aqui.
Donde debemos empezar nuestra nueva vida,
Juntos y comprometidos, con uno mismo y los demas.

Why are we here?
We are here, because we want to become new people.
A desire to fight and transform our lives
And our behaviors.
The day that we confront ourselves
We will begin to change and grow.
Expressing our feelings
Of anger, rejection and solidarity, we will become different people.
On the contrary, we cannot forget our past or our unuseful habits.

In our community, we can give a helping hand,
Understanding, respecting, and loving eachother.
It is here that we should begin our new lives, together and compromised, with ourselves and with eachother.