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.

wheels on the bus parte 1 y 2

Transportation in Ecuador makes you pound hands against glass windows and stomp your feet.

It was a Friday night and I was trying to get from one end of Quito to the other. Normally a two hour bus ride but, being Friday, the locals were out to meet up with friends after work. Traffic was thin, tonight's ride would be a breeze.
Things in Ecuador always have a way of working out but, most certainly, never work out in ways one had imagined.
This "breeze" of a bus ride started out smoothly. No traffic, empty bus, we would be at our destination in no time. Ten minutes into the drive, however, the bus driver stopped the bus in the middle of the busy street, in front of Quito's biggest shopping plaza. It was 8:30pm, the mall was closing, and people poured out of the doors to hop on the last bus of the day. A once empty bus quickly filled to the brim, yet still our bus sat in the center of the road. Cars honked in anger, trying to pass us on all sides, and passengers started to get restless. Those 10 minutes turned into 15, and then 15 turned into 20. Suddenly, our "breeze" bus ride now did'nt seem so probable.
More than 20 minutes of waiting and the passengers went wild. All of us, including myself, began stomping our feet, banging on windows, whistling, shouting and then some. "VAMOS!" we screamed. "Let's go! What is wrong with you Mr. Busdriver we've been here for 20 minutes!" they shouted. There was no words from the busdriver, as he clearly did not care about how late he was making his clientele, or think twice about how badly we wanted to get home. "Do you not have a family to go home to?!" one angry man screamed. "If he doesn't hurry up, I have it in me to go up there and hit him," another uttered.
Partially nevous, partially loving this comical encounter, I couldn't help but wonder how a similar situation might have unfolded in the USA. I imagine patience, calmness, potentially irritated passengers sitting quietly, whispering to one another about their anger felt towards such an inefficient system. Not in Ecuador, though. You say what you feel, there is no time for being polite.
Luckily enough for some, another bus going in the same direction as ours pulled up alongside us. This bus driver, in comparison, seemed much more logical about getting to places on time, and much less concerned with making an extra 0.25 cents per passenger. "VAMOS!" our passengers screamed. The majority of the passengers on our "slow bus" jumped up and ran through traffic to catch up with their new ride home. A friend of mine turned to me, saying, "Lets get out of here, we will get home faster on the other one!" My hesitant reply: "Noooo...let's just stay. I am sure our bus will leave soon enough."
And so we sat...5 minutes more and, as if a switch went off, the busdriver was suddenly satisfied with his overcrowded bus space. Off we went. We chugged along for awhile longer, jamming extra bodies here and there into the remaining cracks and crevices. In the distance, we watched as the "speedy bus," once alongside us, roared out of sight and left us in the dust. "I guess you were right," I shamefully admitted to my friend. "We should've gone with the other one." Irritaded, she agreed.
Little did anyone know at the time, our bus driver turned out to be a pretty smart guy. What appeared to be his selfish, sluggish plan turned out to be quite genious.
After getting outside of Quito's more populated neighborhoods, our bus ride changed from what appeared a turtle-speed endeavor to a "hold on for dear life, buckle up your seatbelts (not really...as seltbelts are practically nonexistent in Ecuador), we're goin' for a ride!!" For those who remember Magic School Bus, it was basically the same experience. Now, instead of screaming "Hurry up, let's go!" we now cried (only partially kiddingly), "Slow down! You're going to kill us all!" The whole bus joked together, laughing at the comical situation, as we speeded through Quito's entirety in less than 20 minutes.
And, the best of all? Remember the "speedy" bus that left us in the dust? We passed it. What was once just two busses, driving through the city turned into a fullout race through Quito, seeing which machistic busdriver could outdo the other. We waived to our ex-passengers as we hurled by. With a schreeching stop (wait...actually...the bus didn't even completely stop), we jumped off the moving bus upon arrival at our destination.



Transportation in Ecuador makes you feel light as a cloud and full of bliss.

Sometimes, well, most of the time, it is hard to see the beauty in a place so ugly, so forgotten and so unappreciated like Santo Domingo. Most of the time, you see smog. You see paintchipped walls, beggars with no hands and feet, 9 year old boys with ripped clothes doing kartwheels in the dusty streets to earn a couple of coins. You see macho men who think of you as a piece of meat, a less-than-human, a symbol of sex. You feel hate, you smell smoke, you hear gunshots, you forget the good.
But then, there are days. There are moments. There are sounds, and noises, and colors, and smells that make your 10 months remaining in the Peace Corps feel so sad you want to cry because you can't imagine leaving such a bizarre place you now call home.
Driving in the backs of trucks. A time that I feel most happy about my life. A day playing soccer with dirty children, the winner earns 0.50 cents. And they kick my ass, as usual. I leave them, sweating and out of breath, in awe that 7 to 13 year olds literally run circles around me with a soccer ball. I hop in the back of the truck and off we go. Transportation in Ecuador is unique because you might not make it alive but you just stop caring as much. You let the wind blow through your hair and admire the beauty around you.
The smoggy streets become filled with wonder and excitement. The macho men fade out of your existance. The paintchipped buildings feel comforting. Salsa music blasting from every car, bus, store and house brings passion and love. A beautiful sunset peaks through the shackled buildings and polluted sky, and castes shadows on paths where latina women in tight white spandex and middrift tanktops walk dogs.
And you feel at peace.

the good and the bad

i write today about my experiences because, mostly, i feel a need to vent to the world about the saddness and anger i have seen.
today was a normal day, 2 oclock pm heading to the barrios, neighborhoods, to meet with the children to make bracelets, play soccer, jumprope, lo que sea. upon arrival, two kids pulled me aside and said "marcelo has been shot." i did a double take, saying "what?!" and they told me that marcelo, our 18 year old "group leader," son of a wonderful family, leader of our dance group, my good friend, in the barrio "Cristo Vive" was shot. he is alive, he is well, he wont die, but the whole thing really just got me thinking.
i don't know the story, so i cannot retell it to you all, but the basics are that he was walking home, attempted to be robbed by two ladrones, and resisted, hence being shot and nearly killed. when i saw him, he was laying in bed, in shock, with bloody bandages and a look of fear i have never seen in him. marcelo is my friend, i rely on him. he is known, through rumors, to be homosexual within the community and my organization. he is a true leader, he is confident (as much as he can be living in a very conservative world), true, kind, and helpful. marcelo is strong, in that he openly questions his sexuality, he is the dance instructor, the reason our kids perform salsa, bachata, samba numbers at all of our public events. marcelo is, in my eyes, my reference in the neighborhood.
he was caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time. today i sat with him, held his hand, and told him how much i admired him as a person. he will be ok, he will live, he will probably lose a finger or two. but, his life is most important and he cherishes that.
today i decided i would join the psychology sector of my organization. i have decided to pursue my passion, which is psychology, when i return to the USA. so, in order to gain experience i am learning from local psychologists to understand how it all works down here. i sat through a therapy session with marcelo and the psychologist today, and to say the least it was interesting. the psychologists first question was, "so what good can come out of this experience?" marcelo looked at the psychologist and timidly laughed. "nothing, good, will come out of this experience." the conversation proceeded by the psychologist telling marcelo that, although he has just been shot in the arm and the finger, might lose a finger, their are postives. number one, marcelo has realized his family does love him. he said, "i couldnt tell if my dad ever really cared about me. i know he loves my brothers and sisters, but i never really thought he loved me. but he came, to the hospital, and he was with me." his family does love him, hopefully he sees that. marcelo learned he didnt die, he lived. while he is now in extreme risk, as they reported the situation to the police and are at risk of being pursued by the people that hurt him, he is alive.
the good...marcelo didnt die. hes alive to grow, and to continue being an awesome person. from this experience i see him growing, becoming more confident, and continuing on with life. the bad, an 18 year old boy cant live a normal life, cant walk down the street without danger of dying, cant be who he is without prejudice.
a run-on of emotions. hope this was somewhat coherent.

The Queen of Sports

Hello friends and family,
I write to you with a new, entertaining story that happened to me about a week ago. I am hoping atleast you all will get a kick out of it because, I unfortunately did not. However, this experience that I am about to explain will probably go down as one of the weirdest, most uncomfortable, most bizarre occurances of my life thus far.
In order to fully explain, I will need to first brief you all on one of Ecuador's proudest traditions, beauty pagaents. Beauty pagaents in Ecuador seem to hold the interest of almost everyone. Whether it is Miss Ecuador, Miss Santo Domingo or Miss Universe, beauty pagaents are the talk of the town wherever you go. So much so that before Miss Ecuador was held here in Santo Domingo about two months ago, the government had people working up a storm in order to get the city ready. Parks were made, trees were planted, water pipes installed, roads paved, all for the hosting of the soon-to-be-pagaent. Pagaents are also held before all soccer games. Each time assigns a "queen" to represent them on game day, and a contest is held before each game to see which queen is the most beautiful.
Well...yes...here is where I come in. Lucky for me, I was nominated to be the "Queen of Sports" for the 2011 government-held soccer tournament. I knew, when they asked me to partake, what ridiculousness this would entail as I have witnessed many such events in my year here so far. But, unfortunately, after saying "NO GRACIAS" three times, I was forced into the role. The whole week leading up to the event I had random people I have never met whispering as I walked by "mira la reina de deportes! look its the queen of sports!" and "ah la famosa ha llegado! the famous girl has arrived." Flattering? Yes, a little.
Needless to say, this was only the beginning of it all. The day of the event arrived, and my coworker pulled me into the bathroom at 8am to try on a bagfull of dresses she brought for me to wear. I tried to keep a smile on my face as she pulled out the 1. skin-tight metallic purple dress with a gold belt 2. bright green 80s prom dress that went to right below my butt 3. corset and skirt. NO NO NO NO. allll wrong. As you all may know, I'm a bit picky about what I wear and I definately don't like getting too dressed up, so this experience was rather difficult for me. I politely said, "no...buscare mi propio vestido i will find my own dress!" and ran away. Thanks to my other Peace Corps friends who were laughing hysterically at my misery, I was able to put together an outfit that was somewhat appropriate for both parties. Meaning, I liked it and I hoped they would too.
That night is was time for the big event and more importantly, my Ecuadorian teammates time to do my makeup and hair! They dragged my to someones house, not sure who, sat me down on the bed and went to work. To start, bright blue, purple, red, and black eyeshadow all mixed together into one. Next, so much dark black eyeliner that when I looked in the mirror I scared myself. Bright red lipstick, bright pink blush, slicked back with gel hair, and I was ready to go. I tried my best to avoid mirrors because I literally felt like a clown.
We arrived to hundreds of people, all staring at the "reinas queens." I led my soccer team in an inauguration ceremony, and was introduced to the mayor, the leader of the indigenous tribe, and many other important officials. Scandal occured when people starting noticing that I was not Ecuadorian, and wanted to kick me out of the pagaent. My coworkers fought for me to stay in as I, secretly, prayed that they would kick me out so I could go put on my soccer uniform.
Thankfully enough I was eliminated rather early in the pagaent, due to the scandal, and was able to relax a bit. I tried to smile and congratulate the other teams queens but for the most part I recieved only deathly stares from the other girls. I guess I wasn't taking things seriously enough. Luckily enough, things ended rather quickly, and my 15 minutes of fame in Santo Domingo de los Tsachilas, Ecuador was a success!
Its been two weeks, and my roommates and volunteer friends are still laughing at me. Despite all of my sarcasm, it was a very loving event and I actually feel more connected to the people here than I have yet. Below is a photo from the newspaper. Hope you got a laugh out of this!

easter egg hunt/war

Easter is coming up. Here in Ecuador, Easter is known as Semana Santa...and while we still have a few weeks until then I chose to utilize/share my recent Easter packages from home to celebrate Semana Santa with the kids I work with.
Thanks to my family's incredible Easter packages, I was able to gather up about 30 easter eggs, chocolates and other little candies to hold this spontaneous easter egg hunt today in the neighborhood Laura Flores.
Upon my arrival the kids were whining, asking what activity we would be doing today, telling me they couldnt make it, etc. When I mentioned the word "surprises" I suddenly was faced with way more children than I had prizes for, all ready to participate. I explained that in the USA we have a custom of holding easter egg hunts. I asked them all to form a large circle, close their eyes, hold hands, and sing a song that we made up on the spot. As the kids sang, I ran around the soccer field hiding the eggs. They showed little interest in closing their eyes, a headstart in finding the eggs was obviously more important.
This concept of a circle with eyes closed lasted for less than one minute, when they all gave up on that idea and thought it would be better to race to find the eggs that I had not finished hiding. This turned into everyone screaming, chasing me with the bag of eggs, me screaming at them to keep singing and close their eyes, etc.
Things really only went downhill from here. What was fun and games turned into crying, fighting, and very upset children. Easter eggs were being ripped apart, hidden in pants, and were the reason for much chaos this afternoon.
Kids are really incredible. I heard every excuse in the world as to why, "I deserve ANOTHER egg because I just found this EMPTY eggshell on the ground... I swear it was empty and I didn't get ANY chocolate!" Or...
Child 2- "Please Mia, oh PLEASE give me an egg...you see its for my sister. She didnt get one. Shes crying, see! Here she is shes really upset."
Me- "I already gave her an egg. And I gave you one too one minute ago."
Child 2- "No!!! Ok... well fine, its for my cousin! I promise! I will bring it to my cousin shes just a baby she couldnt come!"
Me-"mmmhmm..."
The afternoon carried on this way, however things just kept on escalating. Eventually, when there were no more eggs, I was swarmed by 30 children begging me for more eggs. I promised them over and over again there were no more eggs, but the begging continued. Finally, when they just would not stop, I let them search my bags, and everything I had to prove to them my honesty. Nothing worked.
As I write this I just so happen to be snacking on a Reese's Peanut Butter cup, which I did NOT give up in today's easter egg hunt/war.
Feliz Semana Santa!

the beauty of rain

A friend and I were talking before I left on this adventure. I expressed to her how I find it bizarre that I am one of the biggest worryworts on earth yet I seem to crave adventure, living on the edge, and pushing my limits. Today I realized why. Today I tasted the fruit of my ambitions. Today all of my worries faded away.
I cant express the gratitude and passion that I feel for the organization I work for. I feel I have fallen in love with the cause we are fighting for. To think that I could be happy, ecstatic, and inspired while living in this city blows my mind away. My first night in Santo Domingo, looking back, gave me the instinct to run. Run away as fast as I could. Everything felt wrong. Filthy streets, rundown buildings, the intensity of the city...I had to get out.
I feel now that I am part of the craziness of this city. I feel I am living on the edge of things, I´m flying, I´m doing it.
Yesterday I was sitting with two of the street boys we work with making paper airplanes. One of the boys pulled out a picture of some of their friends who also live on the streets. I asked who the boys in the photo were, as I didn´t recognize them. I quickly realized why I had not yet met them, ¨theyre dead,¨was the response I got. Killed. They casually explained the story to me as if we were talking about the weather.
Today I met up with them again, and a new boy I had not yet met. Juan, who we picked up walking down the street without shoes, limping from sores on the soles of his feet. Appearing a little child, I couldn´t believe he, too, has become a product of society´s cruelty. Within his eyes, somewhere, you can see glimpses of his youth, his sweetness, and his innocence. The streets have taken over him, though. The roughness this child possesses is stunning. I held out my hand to introduce myself, yet he is so hardened that even human contact is not within his capability. He shows no fear, he immediately began fighting with anyone and everyone regardless of their age or status. His prey became another one of the street boys we were with, who sat quietly as Juan aggresively made fun of him. Upon recieving no response, Juan continued to become infuriated, threatening to split the street boy´s head open with a rock.
Its hard to imagine an 11 year old with such hatred for the world. Such aggressiveness when appearingly so innocent. He, too, is on his way to becoming a drug addict, left alone to fend for himself. Same story, over and over again.
My first impression was, ¨get me the hell away from this kid.¨ Its hard to picture being scared of a little boy, but I stood clear from him and his whirl of anger. More about Juan later...
Next stop of the day was the futbol tournament we were hosting in my favorite neighborhood we work in, la Laura Flores. Next month, I will be in charge of this neighborhood, more later on that too. We spent all morning getting the field ready. The whole neighborhood community helped as we shovelled shit, trash, and dirt off of the field. The field is a sacred space within the community, the kids know that.
The afternoon was dedicated to the tournament itself. We stayed for hours playing soccer, I had kids clinging to me, begging me to put them into the game. These kids live, breathe, and dream futbol. Their skills prove it. I wish I could take them all to the US, put them in some fancy soccer training camp and watch them become professionals one day. After a couple of hours of playing the rains came. Now, yes, I am from Seattle and, yes, I love the rain. The rain here is a complete different story.
Needless to say, the floods came. A complete downpour, flooding the field within minutes and only increasing the intensity of the game. As usual I didnt bring my camera for fear of it being stolen but the photos of this day wouldve been incredible. Mixture of rain, the rich, dark bare skin of these beautiful children was mesmorizing to watch. I fell in love with the moment, standing on a tiny rock as the ground flooded around me, creating rivers of water with nowhere to go. Left only to watch the beauty occuring around me.
In this moment I realized there is nothing better. Knowing other cultures, living a life so simple, but so rich. Not making big changes in peoples lives, not lifting them out of poverty, but just BEING present with them brings life to everyone.
The mixture of rain,lightening, and thunder coming down directly upon us would have normally filled me with fear. Not today. A little girl clung to me as lightening struck, telling me she was afraid. I hugged her, smiled, and responded ¨No pasa nada!! No worries!¨ In that moment I thought, if lightening strikes us down (we were holding onto a metal sheet used for a roof) in this moment, I would die completely happy.
When it was time to leave the neighborhood, my energy and passion was still running high so I offered to sit in the back of the pickup truck the whole ride home, with the storm still raging on. My coworkers politely suggested that ¨I am a lady and please, stay inside of the truck Mia.¨ ¨One of the kids will sit in the back, its cold! Its raining!¨ I politely responded, ¨why would they sit in the back, get soaking wet, when I have a warm shower to go home to and they have the freezing bus terminal to sleep in?¨ We carried on this way for awhile, until finally I said, ¨you know...I just really love the rain.¨ There was no argument there, so off we went. Good decision, bad decision, I´m not sure. It was much less adventuresome that I thought it would be and more, just down right freezing, but I continued smiling the whole way home.
In this moment I only thought of my dad. It was definately a move he wouldve made, and I felt like a true Preble living on the edge of things. I felt so much like a Preble, in fact, that I decided to run the rest of the way home in the downpouring rain, about a mile or so from my house.
To end the day, I turned to my coworker and said, ¨Wow, our job is really insane.¨ She replied, ¨You just wait, this is nothing. Things are going to get alot crazier.¨
Bring it on I say.

P.S. Juan went home to his family at the end of the day. He stayed the night, then went back to the streets the following day. If it it was for only one night, for us this is a small success.

winter time

Typical neighborhood scene from the neighborhood Cristo Vive ("Christ Lives") where we work.





As many of you know, I have a very dear new friend named Sebastian. He visits me most mornings and chirps at my door.




These are the bracelets the kids of my organization make. We are in the initial stages of setting up a business. All profits made will go towards leadership trips for the children.

Goodbye

Street Children
Ted Ayson

¨A vessel amidst an ocean of indifference,
you see the world from a different stance.
From glassy eyes that has seen untold evils...
your cries from within are heard by no one.

Palms stretched out devoid of pride and spirit...
but nothing given, not even a passing thought.
Pangs of hunger grips you, but still you hope...
spare change from a kind stranger.

Suffer the children, whose innocence we rob...
whose future is as murky as the city sewers.
You lurk in the dark and travel restless highways...
where it leads to an unknown destination.

At the end of the dying day, you find no rest..
you lay your weary head on the street pavement.
Sleep dear child, and worry not about tomorrow..
I bid you goodnight and the sweetest of dreams.¨



I spent all day hanging out with two street children. Jose and Miguel. Although they will never know the impact that they had on me today, I remain shocked and changed after a wonderful, mindopening day.
At first sight, I was intimidated. They are very rough looking, appearing atleast twice their age and no one I would want to hang around with. But these appearances fade away almost instantaneously, as their roughness begins to fade and the child emerges from under their hard shells.
All day they clung to me. We laughed, we hugged, they confided in me, and we developed a five hour relationship that felt like they were a part of my family. It was hard to let them go, for me, and for them although they tried to hide it.
Four hours after saying goodbye to them, at 830pm, I remain sad. As we drove home from the all-day grafitti festival, Miguel clung to me, not wanting to let go of the love he was shown today.
But in an instant, he went back into his shell. He became tough again, back to his streetchild posture, and jumped out of the car. He didnt say goodbye, he just ran away.
I know I will see them again, they may not remember me. I have met them twice now. Things are always the same.
So I will remain the same. Appreciative of my time with them. Wishing I could do more for them. Thankful for the hugs, the smiles, and the love.

dancing on rooftops

Hola mis queridos amigos!
I think it has been over two months since I´ve written last. I have been very caught up in the swing of things, and have not felt too inspired to make any entries. However, I´m feeling inspired at the moment and want to share my inspirations and excitements as of late.
I will start with today. It is amazing how things can change so quickly. I started off the day nearly in tears from feeling extremely overwhelmed and frusterated with the way things are going. I won´t bother going into those details, instead I will get to the good stuff!
My coworker picked me up to go to our afternoon ¨bracelet making sessions¨with the kids in the poorest neighborhoods of Santo Domingo. When we are lucky enough to go by car, I feel extremely relieved. The busses here are, to say the least, scary and travelling in car is such a priviledge for me these days. We started out our afternoon a bit differently than usual, and went to a neighborhood called ¨12 de octubre¨ to pick up 10 kids and take them to dance class. The kids are in the process of practicing a dance called ¨la marimba¨ which is an afro-ecuadorian type of dance from the coast. On saturday they will be performing at a festival, which I will get to later. We spent atleast 20 minutes arguing, jokingly, with the kids about which kids were allowed to attend dance class. The kids who behave poorly during the week were not allowed to attend, and pretty much stampeded our truck begging us to take them. Once we got the 10 kids in the back of the truck, we drove them to a friends house who is a professional dancer and offered to help the kids learn. Dance class was on the rooftop, with about a 20 foot drop on all sides of the dance floor. Using an oldschool boombox, the kids tossed off their shoes and began to dance. I wish I had photos, it was incredibly sweet watching them try to learn the moves. It was pouring rain, but we danced and danced for about an hour, until it was time to head back.
Next stop was another neighborhood, ¨la Laura Flores.¨ I must say that this neighborhood is by far my favorite. I know these kids best, and everytime we drive in the kids coming running out of their shacks with barefeet to give us huge hugs and kisses. Unfortunately, my organization is out of money at the moment and we did not have the materials to make bracelets with the kids today, but we stayed for about half hour just hanging out with them. We showed up an hour and a half late, and it was really an unforgettable moment to see the looks on these kids faces when we finally showed up. They seemed to think we wouldn´t show up at all, and so when we did arrive they were ecstatic. Last Tuesday, we played soccer with these kids for over two hours. Ages 7-17, these kids can by far run circles around me on the field. It is amazing to watch them play soccer, barefeet and all! Although, I must say it is really fun to be able to show them I can play as well. Most people turn their heads and say, ¨pass it to the gringa!¨ I´m glad my soccer skills still come in handy.
In other news, I moved houses. I now live with an Italian girl in the house associated with my organization. It is amazing, and I just realized as I was cooking dinner how lucky I am to be with a truely incredible organization. The house is perfect, minus the rats, and...bugs. But, I dont mind because I´m happy! We also have a parrot that comes and wakes me up every morning. I love him.
Besides the challenges, which their are many, life is good. I would love for people to come visit me, and now that I have my own place that makes things easy. I have already started talking with a couple people about coming down...so, those of you who haven´t considered it, come on!! I miss you all so much! I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I am so thankful for the amazing people in my life.
Hopefully will write again before another two months passes, if not, hasta luego!!

Big Day

Hello everyone! I wanted to write to explain the latest thats going on down here. First, before I forget, I just want everyone to know that I am ok and all of the politics have settled down here. I will leave it at that, everything is ok!
I have big news. I just got a call from the United States embassy. Tomorrow at 1pm they are coming to visit ME. Along with the country director of Ecuador. They want to see what I am doing, what projects I am working on, who I am working with, etc. It is a big deal...and I am nervous to say the least. I am not sure why/how/when they picked me to visit, but here they come! I am looking forward to it, but have alot to prepare.
In other news....I found out last night that my host dad has been feeding me mysterious meats for 2 weeks. He knows I am not a huge MEAT fan, and thought he would "trick me into" liking meat. It did not work. Last night he told me that I have now eaten: donkey, cow tongue, chicken liver, cow heart, cow liver. Those are all of the ones that I know of. I am really really hoping that he has not fed me dog, but I really can't be sure that he hasn't. I could tell for 2 weeks that the meat tasted different, but I chose not to ask, and be polite. Well, bad idea. I now have quite the reportoire in my stomach.
On a brighter note, I am starting to really get into my work! This week we are giving sex ed charlas in the poor neighborhoods where we work. We have "hired" a doctor to help us, and she is the one in charge of the charlas. Yesterday, our first charla, did not go over well. The kids are ages 8-18, and really couldn't handle the information. She was too formal, and the kids did not grasp it. After the meeting, I mentioned to Sonando por un Cambio (my organization) that I am really interested in leading sex charlas. Sex eduacation is so lacking here, in every sense. Over 50 percent of the population is HIV positive, and kids starting at the age of 10 are getting preganant. Few know about condoms and other contraceptives, and I see this as a huge area to work in. SO- my organization is interested in having me lead this new sector of their work. I can't wait.
Not much else to say, I spent last weekend in a small pueblo called Las Mercedes. Another PCV lives there and we went to visit her town of 200. We found a beautiful river with a swimming hole and spent hours there. She lives in the middle of the jungle, it was beautiful. Monkeys, parrots,

long time no talk

hello all,
a quick update about what has been going on lately.
i am spent these past three or four weeks getting more acquainted with santo domingo. that has entailed focusing in more on the areas that interest me with work. i have sort of fallen in love with the program Sonando por un Cambio. i am trying very hard to learn as much as i can from them. it is interesting, because before coming into the peace corps i imagined that I would be the one teaching, directing, adding my opinion about how to change things and make them better.
i have quickly realized that that was rather ignorant of me. i am definately doing alot of LEARNING and far less TEACHING, although eventually that will change over time.
to be more specific, Sonando por un Cambio is an organization that works in the poorest barrios (neighborhoods) of Santo Domingo. they have three barrios that they lead after school youth groups with, this is the area i have been helping in. we go in three times a week and lead arts and crafts projects with them. i am learning how to make all sorts of bracelets, earrings, etc. eventually, we want to set up a business for these kids, and have them SELL their products both locally and internationally (hint hint....who wants to buy some cool bracelets??)
the other half of what Sonando por un Cambio does is work with children that live on the streets, and are drug and alcohol dependent. about two weeks ago, i had my first taste of this work...and to say the least it was a bit terrifying.
my coworker, Steven, introduced me to "street life" as he gave me a walking tour of where all the street kids sleep. little did i know we were going to be going to hang out with these kids. he took me to a soccer stadium where all the kids sleep on the bleachers, and we climbed the steps and sat with them. i was sweating and my heart was pounding so fast as we approached this kids (who did not look or act like "kids"). within 5 minutes of being with them, i realized that they, despite their hard lives, were just KIDS. we sat with them as they put away their pipes and drugs, and my coworker talked with them about their situations.
one kid, Ever, decided he had enough of living on the streets, and decided to come with us. although it was hard, we convinced him to come with us and that we would take him to a rehabilitation center for children. walking down the street with Ever and Steven was an amazing experience for me. Steven talked with him about the importance of starting a new life, of stopping his drug habits, of making serious changes. he seemed frightened, but brave.
with all of that being said, the other half of Sonando por un Cambio takes street children and places them in rehabilitation centers around the country. Santo Domingo is in the process of building a rehabilitation center, and i am in the process of learning how they work.
two weeks ago i went to Quito for four days. i was the only girl, accompanied by Steven and my other coworker Marlo. we spent four days in a child rehabilitation center, learning how they function. these were some of the hardest, but most rewarding days of my life thus far. the kids were extremely ROUGH. i couldnt believe i had put myself in this situation. i didnt think i could survive, but i did. the boys loved me, and they were so cute depite how bad they were. their lives in the rehabilitation center is not easy. it felt like a prison. it is very orderly and they are given very strict orders. the kids are not forced to stay, and if they break one of the four rules which are:
1. no using drugs
2. no having sexual relations
3. no physical or verbal violence
4. no stealing
they are kicked out. there was a little boy there, Juan David, who was 5 or 6 years old but he told me he was 11 (none of the kids knew their birthdays). i loved juan david. with me he was a cute little kid, and sat on my lap and was nice. with the other boys he was a complete terror, hitting kicking punching screaming antagonizing kids much older than him. it makes me smile thinking of that little guy.
anyway.....this is only the beginning. i have no idea where all of these new skills will come into place. but i am excited, and nervous about heading into this type of work. for now i am simply LEARNING. i dont have much to offer, except for my presence. every day my coworkers teach me something new, and i am grateful to have met them.
i miss you all..please write more i miss hearing from everyone!
mia

Group Hug

Hello everyone. Well...work is off to a running start and things are by no means calm around here. It is something new every single day, its very hard for me to keep up with the blogs and explain details when every day something new is thrown at me! So, as usual, I will talk about what happened today!
Today was my first day of actual work. I think I explained where/with who I was working? If not, I am working for the Patronato del Municipio which is the social work sector of the local government here in Santo Domingo. The projects that I will be working in are:
Sonando por un cambio (dreaming for a change): a nonprofit organization that works with kids that live/spend time in the street and are involved in drugs, alcohol, bad habits. We put on postitive activities for kids and try to get them help.

Working with women sex workers: meeting with prostitutes two or three times a week to give talks about self-esteem, nutrition, sex education. Eventually I want to set up a small business with these women to have them sell sheets/mosquito nets/clothing to earn income. Today I met with 15 women, we gave eachother a big group hug and laughed. It was interesting.
El ancionato: working in an elderly home a couple times a week, passing out food, building a garden so that they can produce their own food to eat, putting on activities for them (dance, music, reading groups)

Playing with 5 years olds in a school to relax and have fun!

Those are the activities that I will be working on. Its alot..but most of these programs are already set up and organized so I am just assiting for now. Later, I will create my own projects.

The things that I am most excited/nervous/passionate about it the project Sonando por un cambio. There are only 5 people in the organization. They are all super cool, young, positive, and interesting. They have adopted me into their group and are excited about me helping them. The problem is, they think I am a specialist in microfinance. Everyone does...I keep TRYING to explain that it was only my MAJOR and am I no means a specialist, but that does not seem to be translating. Two of the people grew up living in the street, they are awesome and really inspiring. Tomorrow, one of them is going to take my to his neighborhood to introduce me to his kids. Needless to say, I'm really nervous.

So my friends all is well. Its tough, because this city is really really poor, dirty, dangerous, and I hate having to always worry about where when how to get anywhere. But, eventually this will get easier I hope.

Thats all for now. Much love.

Las Tsachilas

I am very sorry for this long overdue blog. I finally feel, for the first time in two months, that I have time to stop and think about what is actually going on. I dont know where to begin, so I will just start with what has happened most recently.
Yesterday may have been one of the best days I have ever had. First, i am now in Santo Domingo, city of 500,000, where I will be living for the next two years. It is a busy, dirty, poor city about three hours southeast of Quito. Driving from Quito to Santo Domingo is interesting. In three hours you go from the snowpeaked mountains, down through windy roads until you get to a tropical jungle, filled with trees and fruit and flowers. That is Santo Domingo, a tropical, muggy city.
Santo Domingo is home for alot of people from all over the country, and alot of people from Colombia. They say that the city is about 60 percent Colombian, but I'm not sure if that is entirely true. Regardless, when I tell people where I am living, they respond.."que peligroso." Its dangerous, but honestly its starting to feel easier and easier every day.
So- back to my amazing day yesterday. A Peace Corps volunteer, Laura, who has been living here for the past two years invited us to go to visit "las Tsachilas," who are the famous indigenous tribe that live about a half hour outside of Santo Domingo. I was extremely excited, because I have heard alot about these Tsachilas and have been wanting to meet them ever since I found out my site location. We travelled about an hour and a half to get there, as they live far far into the jungles of Santo Domingo. The drive was gorgeous, as it was filled with banana trees and we travelled on a small dirt road through the jungle.
We arrived at one of the Tsachilas communities, which was vacant when we arrived because they were all playing soccer, but since Laura knows them personally she was able to show us around with there permission. The community consisted of about three grass huts, made on stilts, and a bathroom (which was incredible) that was made by previous Peace Corps volunteers. It was beautiful, and it was like nothing I had ever seen before. In this community lives a shaman and his wife and kids. Next Friday I am going to go meet with them to see about working with them in the future.
We continued our drive through the jungle until we got to a soccer field with tons of Tsachilas watching the game, drinking cervezas and relaxing. Las Tsachilas are famous for their appearance. They dye their hair red with a special type of dye from plants, and paint their faces. (if you can, google them.) In modern times, many Tsachilas dont dress up in traditional clothing, but some did. I didnt take photos because I don't yet have their permission or trust, but once I do you will see!
It was funny to see the Shaman, with bright red hair, playing goalie in the soccer match. He spoke with us after and offered us to come back to see him next week.
So that was that. Other than this, I have only been in my site for 2 days now. Its strange, its a completely different vibe down here. The people are alot crazier, and more outgoing. I like it though. People in the Sierra can be very introverted and cold, where as here everyone is screaming, dancing, singing, laughing.
My host family is great, but very very into me being their "hija (daughter)." They want me to do everything with them, all the time. Last night we laid on hammocks and drank a bottle of "Pajarito Azul," some sort of liquor from the coast. It was nice to be with them. My house is great. It is 4 stories, there is internet, I have my own room and bathroom, and everything is really clean and cozy. Other Peace Corps volunteers that are living in the middle of nowhere in little huts like to make fun of us "city folk" and say that we are living in "Posh Corps," not "Peace Corps." I beg to differ...but, maybe they are right.
Work will be challenging, tomorrow is my official first day but I am having some stresses about it which I will talk about later.
I miss my friends! I made such good friends during these past two months. My friend Ali and I spent our weekends hiking the mountains around Cayambe, hiking next to waterfalls and eating peanutbutter and jelly sandwhiches (dad I told her about our PB&J's on our hikes.) So many great friends, everyone here is really inspiring and are going to do great things.
So, thats all for now folks! Whose planning to come see me? How about sending me letters? I would just love that! Here is my new address:

Morissa Pertik
Casilla 17-24-116
Santo Domingo de los Tsachilas
Ecuador

I love you all. Sorry again about taking so long to write I hope this makes up for it. Besos enormes!

Truck Rides at Sunset

Damn life is good! I am happy every moment here...I am feeling really great about being here. I dont have much time to write, but a quick message to say that all is well and I will be moving to my new home in 3 weeks. I love you guys....who is planning their trip to come see me? Hmm??
Mia