Life was far simpler. I had less things, I needed less things. I definitely spent less money - not only because things were cheaper but because I didn't need to buy as much. I rode public transport everywhere. I enjoyed life in a more simple way. I was able to travel and explore the country, but did so in a modest way. I could have lived differently, more luxuriously, and still I was living in a farrr better situation than almost the whole Ecuadorian population.
Think about it - unlike the rest of the world, we have a CHOICE to live more simply. I personally thirst for shunning the "stuff" and "things" in my life and accepting a more simple existence... but in the blink of an eye I could choose to have all this stuff back. But the majority of our human brethren don't make this CHOICE, they live in a certain way because it's their only life path.
I'm working hard to not lose the realizations I made in Ecuador about what is necessary in life. It's too easy to get sucked back into the mainstream expectations of how life "should" be lived here.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Home again, Home again, jiggity jig
Well, I'm home. Or, in my home on this side of the world. My flight got into D.C. last night at around 8 o'clock, and after negotiating my way through English-speaking mobs, I was greeted with wonderful hugs and kisses and a few camera flashes from my parents. We put my bags in our van's trunk, where they shared the space with my parent's booty from an afternoon trip to Costco. I ate an over-sized Fuji apple from a prepackaged pack of 24. From the airport we took the overwhelmingly paved Beltway to my sister's apartment to visit her and her fiancé. We talked a lot, drank water straight from the tap, and played on their new Wii.
It's weird being home.
Even though I'm back now, I'll continue to post over the next several weeks. I still have some narratives from Ecuador that I'd like to share, and undoubtedly I'll have reflections regarding being back in this country. So, keep reporting back!
I'll leave you with a bit of the old poetry, an ode to Ecuador, something i just wrote-
Where are the beautiful stalls with ladies selling fresh cut flowers,
the children wearing wooden boxes holding gum and cigarettes for sale,
the mountains surrounding and framing my existence, reminding me of my smallness,
the melody of spanish floating across the air?
and my dog's wet besitos and wag-wag-wagging tail?
Humbly but boldly they are situated
where the sun shines strong even while it rains
where volcanos peek out on the horizon
where the ecuator gives a name to a small, love-rich country
where my heart remains.
It's weird being home.
Even though I'm back now, I'll continue to post over the next several weeks. I still have some narratives from Ecuador that I'd like to share, and undoubtedly I'll have reflections regarding being back in this country. So, keep reporting back!
I'll leave you with a bit of the old poetry, an ode to Ecuador, something i just wrote-
Where are the beautiful stalls with ladies selling fresh cut flowers,
the children wearing wooden boxes holding gum and cigarettes for sale,
the mountains surrounding and framing my existence, reminding me of my smallness,
the melody of spanish floating across the air?
and my dog's wet besitos and wag-wag-wagging tail?
Humbly but boldly they are situated
where the sun shines strong even while it rains
where volcanos peek out on the horizon
where the ecuator gives a name to a small, love-rich country
where my heart remains.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
¡Feliz Día, mom!
To my mom especially, but also to other readers with babies:
Happy Mother's Day! Thank you for all you do.
For a while now, my mom has really wanted to see a picture of my host family here. So, at long last, here you are, mom!
This is my Ecuamamá (Susana), me, my brother (Martín, 13), and my Ecuapapá (José). This was taken outside of their farmhouse, about 2 hours from Quito. Not pictured is Sebastian (19), my other brother, so below is a picture of him from when we went to a soccer game.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Dog poop has never tasted so good
...I mean, okay. There's this Ecuadorian snack here called caca de perro, which translates to "dog poop." But don't worry, it's not actually dog poop. It consists of toasted then caramelized corn kernels. But unlike American un-popped corn kernels, somehow these things are chewably crunchy and delicious. My Ecuamama just made some the other day, which was the first time I'd seen it, tried it, or even heard of it.
Anyway, its name was just too good to pass up for a blog post title. That's all.
The Tree Key: Deforestation and Global Warming
Here's a link to the follow-up NYT column about Yachana (see below post). Columnist Nicholas Kristoff tells us why the work of Yachana -- specifically community empowerment within the Amazon, which provides locals with economic incentives to not cut down Amazonian trees -- is so important.
"Somewhere in the world, we humans cut down an area of jungle the size of a football field every second of every day, and deforestation now contributes as much to global warming as all the carbon emitted by the United States. By one calculation, four years of deforestation have the same carbon footprint as all flights in the history of aviation up until the year 2025."
We don't hear as much about deforestation contributing to climate change as CO2 emissions. Perhaps this is because on a personal level, resolving the tree-cutting problem feels more out of reach than cutting our personal greenhouse gas emissions.
We know we can and should: purchase electricity from a company offering a large share of renewable energy; walk or ride a bike instead of driving; purchase a car with high gas mileage; turn down/up our thermostats in the winter/summer; replace incandescent light bulbs with compact fluorescents; be smart shoppers when buying energy-gulping appliances like fridges and furnaces.
But we aren't told very often what we can do to prevent further global deforestation, which is an equally substantial contributor to the climate crisis.
Well, here are just three ideas of the type from the Union of Concerned Scientists' "Ten Personal Solutions" to global warming:
1.Buy good wood.
When buying wood products, check for labels that indicate the source of the timber. Supporting forests that are managed in a sustainable fashion makes sense for biodiversity, and it may make sense for the climate too. Forests that are well managed are more likely to store carbon effectively because more trees are left standing and carbon-storing soils are less disturbed."
2. Plant a tree.
You can also make a difference in your own backyard. Get a group in your neighborhood together and contact your local arborist or urban forester about planting trees on private property and public land. In addition to storing carbon, trees planted in and around urban areas and residences can provide much-needed shade in the summer, reducing energy bills and fossil fuel use.
3. Let policymakers know you are concerned about global warming. (and specifically deforestation)
Our elected officials and business leaders need to hear from concerned citizens. Sign up for the Union of Concerned Scientists Action Network to ensure that policymakers get the timely, accurate information they need to make informed decisions about global warming solutions.
Also, an organization called Rainforest Action Network is also
currently campaigning against current practices in palm oil production, the majority of which takes place in rainforest regions, where "pristine rainforests are being clear-cut and burned to make way for palm oil plantations." This contributes to global warming ("Deforestation is the primary reason that Indonesia and Brazil are now the world’s third and fourth largest greenhouse gas polluters," according to RAN), and it also contributes to the destruction of vital ecosystems and displacement of indigenous people/small farmers. There is an increasing demand for palm oil, which is used in foods, soaps and cosmetics AND as an industrial-scale biofuel. So. The bottom line is, let's not forget about the disastrous impacts of deforestation that we all contribute to every day. Be a responsible shopper question where your wood and ingredients are coming from.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Yachana in NYT
Well, well, well. It looks like the news media knows what to cover and where!
On Sunday, a New York Times columnist used his column to write about the story of the two men behind Yachana Foundation. Hopefully that name sounds familiar to ya, because that means you read this post about my visit to Yachana Lodge when our study abroad group went to the Amazon in late February.
It's great to see Yachana getting coverage like this because what the foundation is doing is really special. I feel really lucky that we got to visit the Amazon under its watch. I also feel lucky that Juan Kunchikuy, the indigenous half of the Yachana business pair, is the one who served me that tasty grub!
I'm pasting the text of the column below, just because I know that then there's a better chance that you'll read it.
April 27, 2008
Op-Ed Columnist
Odd Couple of the Jungle
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
IN THE AMAZON JUNGLE, Ecuador
Douglas McMeekin was a failed businessman in Kentucky, and Juan Kunchikuy was a hunter in a remote nook of the Amazon rain forest who killed monkeys, deer and wild pigs with a blowgun and poison darts.
Now this unlikely pair has joined forces in a remarkable campaign to save the rain forest, “the lungs of the earth” that suck up the carbon we spew out. Of all the struggles to fight climate change, this is one of the more quixotic — and inspiring.
The Amazon rain forest that both men treasure is being hacked down, along with other tropical forests around the world. More than half of the world’s tropical rain forest is already gone, and every second of every day, another football-field-size chunk is destroyed.
Mr. McMeekin, now 65, started out not as an environmentalist but as an entrepreneur running a hodgepodge of small businesses in Lexington, Ky., employing about 50 people. In the 1982 recession, he went bankrupt.
Pained and disillusioned, he decided to go far away — to Ecuador, where he eventually found work in the Amazon as a liaison between international oil companies and indigenous tribes. He came to love the people, and his heart went out to them.
In school, Mr. McMeekin had suffered from undiagnosed dyslexia. “I was just a ‘dumb kid,’ and carrying that burden is difficult,” he recalled. The stigma left him empathizing with the Amazon natives, who were often scorned by outsiders as slow and backward because they were unschooled.
Mr. McMeekin began the Yachana Foundation in 1991 to promote education among natives of the Amazon, and in the course of his travels by canoe (there are few roads in the region), he met Mr. Kunchikuy, then a boy living in a cluster of huts a five-hour walk from any other village. Mr. Kunchikuy and his family were semi-nomadic, speaking an obscure tribal language (his real name is Tzerem, but an Ecuadorian official filling out his birth certificate turned that into “Juan”). They survived largely by hunting with darts tipped with home-made curare poison.
Mr. Kunchikuy was one of 12 siblings, of whom five died in childhood. One of his grandfathers was speared to death in a war with a rival tribe; another grandfather adorned his house with the shrunken heads of enemies he had killed.
At the time, in 1995, Mr. McMeekin was building an eco-lodge in the jungle for American tourists, to finance his dreams of promoting education for local people. So he invited the boy to move to the lodge and work and study. At the age of 17, Mr. Kunchikuy left his pocket of the rain forest for the first time — and encountered such wonders as shoes, electricity, running water, telephones and cars.
It was soon obvious that Mr. Kunchikuy had a first-rate mind, so Mr. McMeekin sponsored his education and a home-stay visit to Boston, where in the winter he encountered a puzzling white substance that was very cold. His tribal language, Shiwiar, has no word for snow, ice, freezing or even anything very cold. So after his return, it was tough to describe to his friends how his host family had taken him ice skating and snow-boarding.
Mr. Kunchikuy now speaks fluent English, on top of his other languages — Shiwiar, Spanish, Quichua, Achuar and Shuar, not to mention his mastery at calling monkeys and birds in the jungle. He became a naturalist and guide at the Yachana Foundation’s 18-room eco-lodge, which tourists reach by riding in a canoe for nearly three hours.
Now 30, Mr. Kunchikuy points wildlife out to American tourists and demonstrates that grubs can be tasty. He also displays his impressive collection of scars, from vampire bats, a piranha, a caiman, a stingray, and a shaman who operated on his chest to block another shaman’s black magic. In his spare time, he demonstrates how to shoot a blowgun.
“It has a range of up to 150 feet,” he explained. “It’s better than a shotgun, because it’s silent. You can shoot repeatedly if you miss the first time.” (Keep an eye on nytimes.com in the coming days for a video of Mr. Kunchikuy using his blowgun to spear a papaya balanced on my head — but don’t tell my wife.)
Yet the traditions he grew up with are eroding, much like the rain forest. Loggers are chipping inexorably away at the Amazon, robbing the planet of biodiversity and of a great carbon sink that absorbs our greenhouse gas emissions. On top of that, the deforestation itself, including slash-and-burn clearing, accounts for 20 percent of global carbon emissions, the same amount as that produced by the United States or China. Several studies declare that the low-hanging fruit in the war against climate change is keeping these forests alive.
In my next column, on Thursday, I’ll tell you how Mr. McMeekin and Mr. Kunchikuy are doing just that.
On Sunday, a New York Times columnist used his column to write about the story of the two men behind Yachana Foundation. Hopefully that name sounds familiar to ya, because that means you read this post about my visit to Yachana Lodge when our study abroad group went to the Amazon in late February.
It's great to see Yachana getting coverage like this because what the foundation is doing is really special. I feel really lucky that we got to visit the Amazon under its watch. I also feel lucky that Juan Kunchikuy, the indigenous half of the Yachana business pair, is the one who served me that tasty grub!
I'm pasting the text of the column below, just because I know that then there's a better chance that you'll read it.
April 27, 2008
Op-Ed Columnist
Odd Couple of the Jungle
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
IN THE AMAZON JUNGLE, Ecuador
Douglas McMeekin was a failed businessman in Kentucky, and Juan Kunchikuy was a hunter in a remote nook of the Amazon rain forest who killed monkeys, deer and wild pigs with a blowgun and poison darts.
Now this unlikely pair has joined forces in a remarkable campaign to save the rain forest, “the lungs of the earth” that suck up the carbon we spew out. Of all the struggles to fight climate change, this is one of the more quixotic — and inspiring.
The Amazon rain forest that both men treasure is being hacked down, along with other tropical forests around the world. More than half of the world’s tropical rain forest is already gone, and every second of every day, another football-field-size chunk is destroyed.
Mr. McMeekin, now 65, started out not as an environmentalist but as an entrepreneur running a hodgepodge of small businesses in Lexington, Ky., employing about 50 people. In the 1982 recession, he went bankrupt.
Pained and disillusioned, he decided to go far away — to Ecuador, where he eventually found work in the Amazon as a liaison between international oil companies and indigenous tribes. He came to love the people, and his heart went out to them.
In school, Mr. McMeekin had suffered from undiagnosed dyslexia. “I was just a ‘dumb kid,’ and carrying that burden is difficult,” he recalled. The stigma left him empathizing with the Amazon natives, who were often scorned by outsiders as slow and backward because they were unschooled.
Mr. McMeekin began the Yachana Foundation in 1991 to promote education among natives of the Amazon, and in the course of his travels by canoe (there are few roads in the region), he met Mr. Kunchikuy, then a boy living in a cluster of huts a five-hour walk from any other village. Mr. Kunchikuy and his family were semi-nomadic, speaking an obscure tribal language (his real name is Tzerem, but an Ecuadorian official filling out his birth certificate turned that into “Juan”). They survived largely by hunting with darts tipped with home-made curare poison.
Mr. Kunchikuy was one of 12 siblings, of whom five died in childhood. One of his grandfathers was speared to death in a war with a rival tribe; another grandfather adorned his house with the shrunken heads of enemies he had killed.
At the time, in 1995, Mr. McMeekin was building an eco-lodge in the jungle for American tourists, to finance his dreams of promoting education for local people. So he invited the boy to move to the lodge and work and study. At the age of 17, Mr. Kunchikuy left his pocket of the rain forest for the first time — and encountered such wonders as shoes, electricity, running water, telephones and cars.
It was soon obvious that Mr. Kunchikuy had a first-rate mind, so Mr. McMeekin sponsored his education and a home-stay visit to Boston, where in the winter he encountered a puzzling white substance that was very cold. His tribal language, Shiwiar, has no word for snow, ice, freezing or even anything very cold. So after his return, it was tough to describe to his friends how his host family had taken him ice skating and snow-boarding.
Mr. Kunchikuy now speaks fluent English, on top of his other languages — Shiwiar, Spanish, Quichua, Achuar and Shuar, not to mention his mastery at calling monkeys and birds in the jungle. He became a naturalist and guide at the Yachana Foundation’s 18-room eco-lodge, which tourists reach by riding in a canoe for nearly three hours.
Now 30, Mr. Kunchikuy points wildlife out to American tourists and demonstrates that grubs can be tasty. He also displays his impressive collection of scars, from vampire bats, a piranha, a caiman, a stingray, and a shaman who operated on his chest to block another shaman’s black magic. In his spare time, he demonstrates how to shoot a blowgun.
“It has a range of up to 150 feet,” he explained. “It’s better than a shotgun, because it’s silent. You can shoot repeatedly if you miss the first time.” (Keep an eye on nytimes.com in the coming days for a video of Mr. Kunchikuy using his blowgun to spear a papaya balanced on my head — but don’t tell my wife.)
Yet the traditions he grew up with are eroding, much like the rain forest. Loggers are chipping inexorably away at the Amazon, robbing the planet of biodiversity and of a great carbon sink that absorbs our greenhouse gas emissions. On top of that, the deforestation itself, including slash-and-burn clearing, accounts for 20 percent of global carbon emissions, the same amount as that produced by the United States or China. Several studies declare that the low-hanging fruit in the war against climate change is keeping these forests alive.
In my next column, on Thursday, I’ll tell you how Mr. McMeekin and Mr. Kunchikuy are doing just that.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Pocahontas got skillz
Did I mention the team's name is Pocahontas? Not sure who came up with that one...
Anyway, here's a pic of our soccer team before the final game. I'm the gringa without a uniform.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Futbol Final - It came down to PKs
Unfortunate news.
Get this. We were tied 2-2 when the final whistle blew at the end of the second half. This meant we were going to penalty kicks. Three shots for each team. Six girls up, six goals scored (including one by yours truly). Then it became sudden-death penalty kicks. Their girl scored. Then it was our girl´s turn. And. Their goalie saved it. And just like that, game over. They won.
Dang, it was a beastly game. To come down to PKs like that... d-dang. I´m pretty disappointed.
Saturday morning, our team is playing in the finals of the university´s ¨Olympic¨games, against the same team. Revenge, anyone? I think so. Unfortunately I may not be able to go because I¨m going to my host family´s farm, like a 1.5 hours away, and I think we´re leaving early Saturday morning. But maybe I¨ll convince them to come to the game and we´ll leave from there.
UPDATE:
Didn't get to go to the game - we left early Saturday morning at about 7:30 am for the farm. The farm was a great time and I'm really glad I got to go. (Hopefully a post about that soon.) Haven't heard yet if we won the game or not!
Get this. We were tied 2-2 when the final whistle blew at the end of the second half. This meant we were going to penalty kicks. Three shots for each team. Six girls up, six goals scored (including one by yours truly). Then it became sudden-death penalty kicks. Their girl scored. Then it was our girl´s turn. And. Their goalie saved it. And just like that, game over. They won.
Dang, it was a beastly game. To come down to PKs like that... d-dang. I´m pretty disappointed.
Saturday morning, our team is playing in the finals of the university´s ¨Olympic¨games, against the same team. Revenge, anyone? I think so. Unfortunately I may not be able to go because I¨m going to my host family´s farm, like a 1.5 hours away, and I think we´re leaving early Saturday morning. But maybe I¨ll convince them to come to the game and we´ll leave from there.
UPDATE:
Didn't get to go to the game - we left early Saturday morning at about 7:30 am for the farm. The farm was a great time and I'm really glad I got to go. (Hopefully a post about that soon.) Haven't heard yet if we won the game or not!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Ecuador in WashPost Travel Section
My dad kindly sent me the link to this story about a Post writer's trip around the northern sierra region of Ecuador.
As a woman traveling with another female friend, the writer's focus is--what else?--the shopping she did here. She says that in fact, she picked which haciendas to stay in based on their proximity to Ecuador's biggest artisan markets. She seems to have found the right markets--but the wrong prices. Talking about her time in Otavalo, Ecuador's largest and most well-known market town, she writes:
"We strolled, we pointed, we bargained. Two subtly dyed cotton scarves for $12 seemed plenty cheap to me, but it was a thrill to get them for $10, and the young Andean woman selling them looked happy, too."
Ah! Two scarves for $10? Common lady, everyone knows that those scarves are 3 for $5! No wonder the "young Andean woman" was happy. I'm happy for her too, and glad that the overpaying gringo doesn't have to be me.
That's all for now.
As a woman traveling with another female friend, the writer's focus is--what else?--the shopping she did here. She says that in fact, she picked which haciendas to stay in based on their proximity to Ecuador's biggest artisan markets. She seems to have found the right markets--but the wrong prices. Talking about her time in Otavalo, Ecuador's largest and most well-known market town, she writes:
"We strolled, we pointed, we bargained. Two subtly dyed cotton scarves for $12 seemed plenty cheap to me, but it was a thrill to get them for $10, and the young Andean woman selling them looked happy, too."
Ah! Two scarves for $10? Common lady, everyone knows that those scarves are 3 for $5! No wonder the "young Andean woman" was happy. I'm happy for her too, and glad that the overpaying gringo doesn't have to be me.
That's all for now.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My face is sunburned...
...but my intramural soccer team is going to the finals!
Today we had our semi-final game against a really good team, which beat us last time we played 5-3. This time, we held our own, beating them 1-0. I've found my new calling as a defense player, too, which is exciting. Ecuadorian girls' soccer is definitely less aggressive than our N. American game (I guess they haven't done their aggression drills with Coach Bill), but these girls do have a good touch.
Wish you could be here to cheer us on in the final next Thursday! And I'll remember to wear sunscreen next time.
Today we had our semi-final game against a really good team, which beat us last time we played 5-3. This time, we held our own, beating them 1-0. I've found my new calling as a defense player, too, which is exciting. Ecuadorian girls' soccer is definitely less aggressive than our N. American game (I guess they haven't done their aggression drills with Coach Bill), but these girls do have a good touch.
Wish you could be here to cheer us on in the final next Thursday! And I'll remember to wear sunscreen next time.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Well-fed, but a bit fed up
This afternoon, our BCA director Daniel had some of us over to his house to hang out and discuss food - Ecuadorian food experiences, the culture of Ecuadorian food, and the causes/effects of rising global food prices. Our group for the afternoon was six girls, plus Daniel and Martha (the assistant director), plus Daniel's two children (a little pug and a rescued, street-dog mut).
But before the discussion, we cooked. First, we made two loaves of beer bread, using Ecuador's national beer, Pilsener. Then we made tortillas de quinoa (quinoa patties) using the common Ecuadorian grain quinoa, which is kind of like cous cous and is extremely rich in protein. Both of the recipes are really easy and they yield very delicious results, so no doubt I'll be making them again when I get home. Daniel also made a pot of fresh, delicious coffee, which tasted exceptional. Everyone here in Ecuador drinks instant coffee/Nescafé, which rarely satisfies the coffee craving.
After eating our delicious bread and patties, we - paradoxically - had a lengthy conversation all about the food crisis. World Bank President Robert Zoellick recently acknowledged the global food emergency, caused by drastically rising food prices and causing much hunger. There has been an 83% increase in overall food prices over the last three years. Ecuador has especially seen food prices rise considerably. There was a recent radio report that nearly half of Ecuadorians who usually make a traditional Holy Week soup didn't think year because the ingredients were too expensive. Reasons for the global price hike include increased demand, natural disasters (perhaps linked to global climate change), diversion of food crops to energy production, and domino effects of the US economic recession. Right now, there are sufficient resources and land to feed the world's population, but the problem lies in distribution, which is a difficult problem to correct.
Afterwards, several of us went out to a sushi bar for dinner, where there was a 2 rolls for 1 deal. Sushi is like one of my favorite foods, so needless to say I really enjoyed the dinner.
But now I'm back at home and am exceptionally alert for the hour -- probably due to the three generous cups of coffee I had at Daniel's house. And I can't help thinking how lucky I am that despite the enormous problem facing our global population, everyday I have more than sufficient food to eat. How do we allow this to continue to be a persistent problem?
Any thoughts are welcome on this issue... It is something that is so easy to ignore, since it doesn't affect us in our daily lives, but something we really should be conscious of...
But before the discussion, we cooked. First, we made two loaves of beer bread, using Ecuador's national beer, Pilsener. Then we made tortillas de quinoa (quinoa patties) using the common Ecuadorian grain quinoa, which is kind of like cous cous and is extremely rich in protein. Both of the recipes are really easy and they yield very delicious results, so no doubt I'll be making them again when I get home. Daniel also made a pot of fresh, delicious coffee, which tasted exceptional. Everyone here in Ecuador drinks instant coffee/Nescafé, which rarely satisfies the coffee craving.
After eating our delicious bread and patties, we - paradoxically - had a lengthy conversation all about the food crisis. World Bank President Robert Zoellick recently acknowledged the global food emergency, caused by drastically rising food prices and causing much hunger. There has been an 83% increase in overall food prices over the last three years. Ecuador has especially seen food prices rise considerably. There was a recent radio report that nearly half of Ecuadorians who usually make a traditional Holy Week soup didn't think year because the ingredients were too expensive. Reasons for the global price hike include increased demand, natural disasters (perhaps linked to global climate change), diversion of food crops to energy production, and domino effects of the US economic recession. Right now, there are sufficient resources and land to feed the world's population, but the problem lies in distribution, which is a difficult problem to correct.
Afterwards, several of us went out to a sushi bar for dinner, where there was a 2 rolls for 1 deal. Sushi is like one of my favorite foods, so needless to say I really enjoyed the dinner.
But now I'm back at home and am exceptionally alert for the hour -- probably due to the three generous cups of coffee I had at Daniel's house. And I can't help thinking how lucky I am that despite the enormous problem facing our global population, everyday I have more than sufficient food to eat. How do we allow this to continue to be a persistent problem?
Any thoughts are welcome on this issue... It is something that is so easy to ignore, since it doesn't affect us in our daily lives, but something we really should be conscious of...
Saturday, April 12, 2008
an Amazoning Time
Two of my friends (Leslie and Jesse) and I, accompanied by Jesse's dad, ditched classes for a few days to head back to the jungle. As I had mentioned in a previous post, Jesse and I had been thirsting for more jungle, and so we planned this trip. It wasn't quite the "lost in the jungle" experience we wanted, but nonetheless we had a sweet time.
We chose to go to Macas, an area in the southern Amazon region, because it is more isolated and less visited than the northern Amazon cities. We figured we might get a more authentic, less touristy visit there, which definitely proved to be true. Through the Lonely Planet Ecuador guide, we found the e-mail address of a tour guide in Macas who offers several-day treks in the jungle around Macas. His name is Tsunki, and he is of the Shuar indigenous tribe. The Shuar people, which are now split between those who have accepted modern civilization and those who still live isolated lives deep in the jungle, are most well-known for their practice of shrinking heads. This tradition has since been deemed illegal by the Ecuadorian government, but they still practice it with animal heads. Unfortunately we didn't get to see either.
We arrived in Macas early Tuesday afternoon. We were met at the airport by Tsunki and his tour-guide business partner Bolivar, another Shuar. That afternoon, they took us to Bolivar's home, where Bolivar, his wife, and their seven-year-old son live. They have two fairly large huts that make up their living space. One is elevated, and inside it is bare, save two beds made up of dried bamboo slats raised off the floor and a large pile of dried corn (which apparently is used for feeding their chickens). The other hut is the kitchen area - inside the majority of space is taken up by the cooking fire, but there is also a table and benches line that the perimeter.
When we got there, we put down our stuff and walked down the dirt road, which met up with a rocky side road/path that led down to a river. On our way down towards the river, Tsunki and Bolivar showed us several medicinal plants and told us their use by the Shuar. (For instance, a tree called "Sangre de Drago" = "Dragon Blood", which when cut "bleeds" a red sap that can be diluted and drank to cure gastritis, diarrhea, and stomach infections, or which can be applied to cuts/scrapes to help the healing and inflammation.) We crossed the river, which was at a level of about our knees, and got to the other side, where there is secondary forestland. We hiked through this area for a while, looking at other plants. Bolivar and his neighbors/family have cleared a good bit of the forest for cultivating crops, a wide variety of things including yucca, chinese potatoes, tomatoes, chili peppers, platanos, and other things that I can't remember because I wasn't familiar with them. While we were walking, Bolivar disappeared for a little while, but we knew he was nearby because we heard the loud hacking sound of a machete against wood. He was busy cutting down a palm tree (and then another) to harvest the "heart of palm" vegetable from the top portion of the tree to eat. It was crazy to see these huge trees falling, and we were really uncomfortable with the idea that he was cutting them down just so we could try the heart of palm (which actually we had tried before). We came to realize over our time with Tsunki and Bolivar that they don't really have a conservation mentality; rather they act in accordance with the belief that it's their forest and it's there to use.
On the way back, we swam in the river. It was delightfully chilly. I really love swimming in cold freshwater. It's always hard to get in at first, but once you take the plunge, it is so refreshing and invigorating.
It was almost dark when we got back to the house. Leslie and I changed out of our wet clothes, then went to the kitchen area to help Bolivar's wife prepare the dinner. She was hacking away at a chicken, putting the chicken pieces into a pot. We helped her to cut tomatoes and onions to add with it, which we then put over the large fire to create a sort of stew. We were told that Shuar women are in charge of cooking and the men don't help. Nonetheless, as we were cutting the onions and shedding tears because of it, Tsunki came over and told us to splash water on our forearms, up to the inner elbow crease, as a trick to not cry when you cut onions. It worked for me, but not for Les. :) (Try it next time you cut onions and let me know if it works for you!) Then we cut up the heart of palm into little shreds, added onion and salt, and wrapped it up in large (palm?) leaves to put over the fire. Bolivar's wife already had a large pot of water boiling to make rice. We sat around the fire as everything cooked, sleepy from the day and eyes tired from the smoky room (talk about indoor air pollution, yikes). But the dinner was delicious. And it was followed up by tea called "hierba de Luisa" - Luisa's herbal tea - which when supplemented by sugar tasted a lot like Fruit Loops.
Then we headed to bed, Leslie and I on one of the wooden beds, Jesse's dad on the other, and Jesse in a sweet camping hammock that we tied from two of the pillars in the hut. The bed was really hard, but we managed, and couldn't complain because Tsunki, Bolivar, and his wife and son slept on the floor around us. We were all awaken early by the loud screeches of a parrot right outside the hut and the persistent cockle-doodle-doos of Bolivar's roosters.
On day 2, we had breakfast and leftover hierba de Luisa tea, then headed off to another jungle area. A taxi dropped us off at an area where we walked through a Shuar village and then hiked through lots of mud and then jungle until we got to a little clearing with a waterfall a short walk away. While walking through the village, we stopped at one of the homes and asked to borrow a pot and plates that we then carried along. When we got up to the campsite, we set up everything and then went for a swim in the waterfall. Again, this was my favorite part of the day. The water was c-o-l-d, but soooo nice. As soon as we got back to the campsite, it started raining really hard, and didn't stop until the next morning. Because it was already so muddy, we spent the afternoon huddled under leaning shelters that had been constructed there, talking and watching our fire that only stayed going because of the large log put over the little flame burning underneath. When it stopped raining so hard, it was getting dark, and we put on a large pot of water to boil spaghetti. We all stood around the fire and talked about the US, Ecuador, and Shuar traditions. When the spaghetti was ready, we ate it with salt and ketchup. Then, in darkness except for the fire, Bolivar told us a few Shuar stories, one which explained the fate of the man-eating monster that lived in a cave. The conversation continued, but I sat with my eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep. That night it rained a lot. I slept very well in the hammock, guarded by a rain cover. Leslie slept in one tent, Jesse and his dad in another, and Bolivar and Tsunki under the shelters.
The next morning, we woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up camp and hike back out to the road, where we picked up a bus to take us a 45 minute drive down the road. We arrived in another village, where we stopped to have breakfast, and then we hiked up the road and over a small mountain and down to a little area next to a river, occupied by a Shuar shaman (healer) and his family of two wives and countless children. Polygamy is allowed in Shuar tradition, and Tsunki explained that it always works best when the wives are sisters because then there is less conflict. I'm not sure if these wives were sisters, but there didn't seem to be any conflict. When we first got there, we sat around for a little while, while Tsunki, Bolivar and the shaman chatted in Shuar. We were served chicha, the traditional Shuar beverage. It was...interesting, and as we drank it, I tried not to think about how it is made: the Shuar ladies chew yucca/platano (whichever type of chicha it is) and then let it ferment in the sun for about five hours. Then they add a bit of water, and vois-la, you have chicha. I guess it kind of tasted like fermented juice, but it was chunky, and smelled like farm. Then, we took a carved canoe across the river to the primary forest jungle there, where we hiked around a bunch. We saw lots more types of trees and flower and medicinal plants. Oh yeah, and we also each ate a little black crunchy bug that lived inside of a palm plant. That night we swam in the river - a lot more quickly and less enjoyably, as it was already getting dark and thus was quittte chilly. That night we ate fresh fish, and talked to the shaman to have our questions answered about his life and practice. We tasted the famed "ayauasca", a traditional Shuar drink that when imbibed causes crazy hallucinations and vomiting. It's sometimes used to cure sickness, sometimes to see what you hallucinate as a way to see inside yourself, and always during festivals. But as we talked to the shaman, it seemed like he prescribes the ayauasca treatment for almost every ailment. We just tried a little drop of it, not enough to cause any effects, but enough to taste its bitterness. Jesse and his dad went to watch the Shuar men set a fish net in the river, and Leslie and I stayed in the candlelight chatting. That night we slept in a large structure with six of the bamboo slat beds, which is where visitors to the Shaman sleep when they come to be treated.
In the morning we had breakfast - eggs, papa china (chinese potatoes) and a piece of sweet platano - and then had a little more time at the shaman's house before we had to hike back out and head to the airport. We spent the time having a little concert with Shuar instruments and then practicing shooting a Shuar blow gun. The concert was fun - they had two flutes, a mouth harp, a large goofy hand-carved violin, a drum, and a turtle shell that squeaked when you rubbed it right. The Shaman sang as we all attempted to make noises with our instruments, which was ridiculousy noisy, slightly musical, and very hilarious. Then we got to shoot the blow gun. We set up a little target - two small platanos stuck onto a 4ft stake in the ground - that we tried to shoot the little pointed sticks at through the blow gun. After several tries (and for Leslie and me, moving the "stand here" line up a little closer to the target), we all successfully hit the platanos. Then it was time to go.
It was a cool trip overall - definitely felt like a more realistic look at what jungle life is like for local people than what we experienced in our first jungle trip. It was especially interesting to see the practices in action of the indigenous people that are causing the deforestation and environmental problems that I learn about in my classes. But it is so easy to see that they do these things because of their impoverished situations, which is worsened as they face pressures from outside civilization and the contemporary need to have modern currency. The emphasis of the Yacahana Foundation (the place where we went last time) is to empower/educate the indigenous people so that they can survive in ways that don't compromise the environment and therefore their future wellbeing. After this trip experience with the Shuar, it's easy to see why this is so necessary.
Photos coming soon; we took all of the photos on Jesse's camera and I gotta get them from him. Then I'll post them, so check back!
Also, I must give credit of this post's title to my mom, master punster.
We chose to go to Macas, an area in the southern Amazon region, because it is more isolated and less visited than the northern Amazon cities. We figured we might get a more authentic, less touristy visit there, which definitely proved to be true. Through the Lonely Planet Ecuador guide, we found the e-mail address of a tour guide in Macas who offers several-day treks in the jungle around Macas. His name is Tsunki, and he is of the Shuar indigenous tribe. The Shuar people, which are now split between those who have accepted modern civilization and those who still live isolated lives deep in the jungle, are most well-known for their practice of shrinking heads. This tradition has since been deemed illegal by the Ecuadorian government, but they still practice it with animal heads. Unfortunately we didn't get to see either.
We arrived in Macas early Tuesday afternoon. We were met at the airport by Tsunki and his tour-guide business partner Bolivar, another Shuar. That afternoon, they took us to Bolivar's home, where Bolivar, his wife, and their seven-year-old son live. They have two fairly large huts that make up their living space. One is elevated, and inside it is bare, save two beds made up of dried bamboo slats raised off the floor and a large pile of dried corn (which apparently is used for feeding their chickens). The other hut is the kitchen area - inside the majority of space is taken up by the cooking fire, but there is also a table and benches line that the perimeter.
When we got there, we put down our stuff and walked down the dirt road, which met up with a rocky side road/path that led down to a river. On our way down towards the river, Tsunki and Bolivar showed us several medicinal plants and told us their use by the Shuar. (For instance, a tree called "Sangre de Drago" = "Dragon Blood", which when cut "bleeds" a red sap that can be diluted and drank to cure gastritis, diarrhea, and stomach infections, or which can be applied to cuts/scrapes to help the healing and inflammation.) We crossed the river, which was at a level of about our knees, and got to the other side, where there is secondary forestland. We hiked through this area for a while, looking at other plants. Bolivar and his neighbors/family have cleared a good bit of the forest for cultivating crops, a wide variety of things including yucca, chinese potatoes, tomatoes, chili peppers, platanos, and other things that I can't remember because I wasn't familiar with them. While we were walking, Bolivar disappeared for a little while, but we knew he was nearby because we heard the loud hacking sound of a machete against wood. He was busy cutting down a palm tree (and then another) to harvest the "heart of palm" vegetable from the top portion of the tree to eat. It was crazy to see these huge trees falling, and we were really uncomfortable with the idea that he was cutting them down just so we could try the heart of palm (which actually we had tried before). We came to realize over our time with Tsunki and Bolivar that they don't really have a conservation mentality; rather they act in accordance with the belief that it's their forest and it's there to use.
On the way back, we swam in the river. It was delightfully chilly. I really love swimming in cold freshwater. It's always hard to get in at first, but once you take the plunge, it is so refreshing and invigorating.
It was almost dark when we got back to the house. Leslie and I changed out of our wet clothes, then went to the kitchen area to help Bolivar's wife prepare the dinner. She was hacking away at a chicken, putting the chicken pieces into a pot. We helped her to cut tomatoes and onions to add with it, which we then put over the large fire to create a sort of stew. We were told that Shuar women are in charge of cooking and the men don't help. Nonetheless, as we were cutting the onions and shedding tears because of it, Tsunki came over and told us to splash water on our forearms, up to the inner elbow crease, as a trick to not cry when you cut onions. It worked for me, but not for Les. :) (Try it next time you cut onions and let me know if it works for you!) Then we cut up the heart of palm into little shreds, added onion and salt, and wrapped it up in large (palm?) leaves to put over the fire. Bolivar's wife already had a large pot of water boiling to make rice. We sat around the fire as everything cooked, sleepy from the day and eyes tired from the smoky room (talk about indoor air pollution, yikes). But the dinner was delicious. And it was followed up by tea called "hierba de Luisa" - Luisa's herbal tea - which when supplemented by sugar tasted a lot like Fruit Loops.
Then we headed to bed, Leslie and I on one of the wooden beds, Jesse's dad on the other, and Jesse in a sweet camping hammock that we tied from two of the pillars in the hut. The bed was really hard, but we managed, and couldn't complain because Tsunki, Bolivar, and his wife and son slept on the floor around us. We were all awaken early by the loud screeches of a parrot right outside the hut and the persistent cockle-doodle-doos of Bolivar's roosters.
On day 2, we had breakfast and leftover hierba de Luisa tea, then headed off to another jungle area. A taxi dropped us off at an area where we walked through a Shuar village and then hiked through lots of mud and then jungle until we got to a little clearing with a waterfall a short walk away. While walking through the village, we stopped at one of the homes and asked to borrow a pot and plates that we then carried along. When we got up to the campsite, we set up everything and then went for a swim in the waterfall. Again, this was my favorite part of the day. The water was c-o-l-d, but soooo nice. As soon as we got back to the campsite, it started raining really hard, and didn't stop until the next morning. Because it was already so muddy, we spent the afternoon huddled under leaning shelters that had been constructed there, talking and watching our fire that only stayed going because of the large log put over the little flame burning underneath. When it stopped raining so hard, it was getting dark, and we put on a large pot of water to boil spaghetti. We all stood around the fire and talked about the US, Ecuador, and Shuar traditions. When the spaghetti was ready, we ate it with salt and ketchup. Then, in darkness except for the fire, Bolivar told us a few Shuar stories, one which explained the fate of the man-eating monster that lived in a cave. The conversation continued, but I sat with my eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep. That night it rained a lot. I slept very well in the hammock, guarded by a rain cover. Leslie slept in one tent, Jesse and his dad in another, and Bolivar and Tsunki under the shelters.
The next morning, we woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up camp and hike back out to the road, where we picked up a bus to take us a 45 minute drive down the road. We arrived in another village, where we stopped to have breakfast, and then we hiked up the road and over a small mountain and down to a little area next to a river, occupied by a Shuar shaman (healer) and his family of two wives and countless children. Polygamy is allowed in Shuar tradition, and Tsunki explained that it always works best when the wives are sisters because then there is less conflict. I'm not sure if these wives were sisters, but there didn't seem to be any conflict. When we first got there, we sat around for a little while, while Tsunki, Bolivar and the shaman chatted in Shuar. We were served chicha, the traditional Shuar beverage. It was...interesting, and as we drank it, I tried not to think about how it is made: the Shuar ladies chew yucca/platano (whichever type of chicha it is) and then let it ferment in the sun for about five hours. Then they add a bit of water, and vois-la, you have chicha. I guess it kind of tasted like fermented juice, but it was chunky, and smelled like farm. Then, we took a carved canoe across the river to the primary forest jungle there, where we hiked around a bunch. We saw lots more types of trees and flower and medicinal plants. Oh yeah, and we also each ate a little black crunchy bug that lived inside of a palm plant. That night we swam in the river - a lot more quickly and less enjoyably, as it was already getting dark and thus was quittte chilly. That night we ate fresh fish, and talked to the shaman to have our questions answered about his life and practice. We tasted the famed "ayauasca", a traditional Shuar drink that when imbibed causes crazy hallucinations and vomiting. It's sometimes used to cure sickness, sometimes to see what you hallucinate as a way to see inside yourself, and always during festivals. But as we talked to the shaman, it seemed like he prescribes the ayauasca treatment for almost every ailment. We just tried a little drop of it, not enough to cause any effects, but enough to taste its bitterness. Jesse and his dad went to watch the Shuar men set a fish net in the river, and Leslie and I stayed in the candlelight chatting. That night we slept in a large structure with six of the bamboo slat beds, which is where visitors to the Shaman sleep when they come to be treated.
In the morning we had breakfast - eggs, papa china (chinese potatoes) and a piece of sweet platano - and then had a little more time at the shaman's house before we had to hike back out and head to the airport. We spent the time having a little concert with Shuar instruments and then practicing shooting a Shuar blow gun. The concert was fun - they had two flutes, a mouth harp, a large goofy hand-carved violin, a drum, and a turtle shell that squeaked when you rubbed it right. The Shaman sang as we all attempted to make noises with our instruments, which was ridiculousy noisy, slightly musical, and very hilarious. Then we got to shoot the blow gun. We set up a little target - two small platanos stuck onto a 4ft stake in the ground - that we tried to shoot the little pointed sticks at through the blow gun. After several tries (and for Leslie and me, moving the "stand here" line up a little closer to the target), we all successfully hit the platanos. Then it was time to go.
It was a cool trip overall - definitely felt like a more realistic look at what jungle life is like for local people than what we experienced in our first jungle trip. It was especially interesting to see the practices in action of the indigenous people that are causing the deforestation and environmental problems that I learn about in my classes. But it is so easy to see that they do these things because of their impoverished situations, which is worsened as they face pressures from outside civilization and the contemporary need to have modern currency. The emphasis of the Yacahana Foundation (the place where we went last time) is to empower/educate the indigenous people so that they can survive in ways that don't compromise the environment and therefore their future wellbeing. After this trip experience with the Shuar, it's easy to see why this is so necessary.
Photos coming soon; we took all of the photos on Jesse's camera and I gotta get them from him. Then I'll post them, so check back!
Also, I must give credit of this post's title to my mom, master punster.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
When the sun sets on Quito
The past two nights, I have been walking outside to pleasantly stumble upon a beautiful sunset. Let me tell you, sunsets are different in Quito. They aren’t your typical, picturesque sunset affairs – they’re unusually different. Perhaps it’s because at 9300 ft, high in the Andes, we seem to be above the setting sun. I enjoy sunsets here in the city more. They are so unusual and distinct compared to what I’ve seen before.
(I don’t have pictures to go along with my explanation, since my bearing witness to this spectacle has always been an impromptu matter. So my words will have to do.)
Imagine you’re walking along a busy city street, one not quite jammed with traffic, but quite busy with the rush-hour flow of buses, taxis and the many city drivers. Suddenly—and it does seem to happen very suddenly—you realize that in every direction above the Ecuadorian cityscape, a sunset is occurring. A panorama sunset, 360 degrees; every way you look, the sky has transformed into a farewell ode to daylight. In the west, there’s the most color, of course – a milky reddish orange backlit by the setting sun. To the left and to the right, large clouds really high in the sky, yet which seem to be just out of reach, are glowing with a brilliant gold outline. The sight of a huge, distinguished, backlit cloud so high up there is really strange. I’ve never seen a sunset take place at such heights. In the east, a strand of purplish clouds dash the darkening sky, as if the sky’s afterthought.
I had to stop in the sidewalk and slowly do a 360 to take it all in.
That’s a Quito sunset.
(I don’t have pictures to go along with my explanation, since my bearing witness to this spectacle has always been an impromptu matter. So my words will have to do.)
Imagine you’re walking along a busy city street, one not quite jammed with traffic, but quite busy with the rush-hour flow of buses, taxis and the many city drivers. Suddenly—and it does seem to happen very suddenly—you realize that in every direction above the Ecuadorian cityscape, a sunset is occurring. A panorama sunset, 360 degrees; every way you look, the sky has transformed into a farewell ode to daylight. In the west, there’s the most color, of course – a milky reddish orange backlit by the setting sun. To the left and to the right, large clouds really high in the sky, yet which seem to be just out of reach, are glowing with a brilliant gold outline. The sight of a huge, distinguished, backlit cloud so high up there is really strange. I’ve never seen a sunset take place at such heights. In the east, a strand of purplish clouds dash the darkening sky, as if the sky’s afterthought.
I had to stop in the sidewalk and slowly do a 360 to take it all in.
That’s a Quito sunset.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
A LOS GALAPAGOS!
It´s finally here, the moment I´ve been waiting for, one of the main reasons I came to Ecuador... TOMORROW I LEAVE FOR THE GALAPAGOS!
I´ll be there from Thursday until Tuesday - 5 full days, packed with intense snorkeling, crazy animal watching, volcano exploring, and who knows what else.
After getting back to mainland Ecuador, I´ll spend some time in Guayaquil, a huge coastal city in south Ecuador. Then I´m busing with some friends to Cuenca (beautiful historic city) and then up to Baños (incredible vacation spot for extreme sports, like mountain biking, white water rafting, hiking, rock-climbing, etc.). Then it´s back to Quito, where classes start again March 31.
Be ready for lots of pictures of large tortoises and sea lions when I return!
and Happy Easter.
I´ll be there from Thursday until Tuesday - 5 full days, packed with intense snorkeling, crazy animal watching, volcano exploring, and who knows what else.
After getting back to mainland Ecuador, I´ll spend some time in Guayaquil, a huge coastal city in south Ecuador. Then I´m busing with some friends to Cuenca (beautiful historic city) and then up to Baños (incredible vacation spot for extreme sports, like mountain biking, white water rafting, hiking, rock-climbing, etc.). Then it´s back to Quito, where classes start again March 31.Be ready for lots of pictures of large tortoises and sea lions when I return!
and Happy Easter.
Sidenote: Obama's speech on race
Just in case you missed it, here is a link to Barack Obama's speech on "race in America," which he delivered yesterday in Philadelphia.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/18/us/politics/18text-obama.html?_r=1&pagewanted=print
It's a solid and unifying masterpiece. He addresses the questionable anti-white/anti-America remarks by his black childhood pastor. He discredits the punch that whites support his candidacy solely because it helps them declare "racial innocence." (See http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120579535818243439.html?mod=googlenews_wsj) He delineates our present-day America, riddled with racial inequities. But he eloquently serves the message that every American, regardless of race, is facing the same challenges. One of my favorite parts of the speech was this:
"As such, Reverend Wright’s comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems – two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all."
Yeah, his words are ideals. But they are the ideals our country needs to unite under.
"For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle – as we did in the OJ trial – or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright’s sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she’s playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.
We can do that.
But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we’ll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.
That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, “Not this time.” This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can’t learn; that those kids who don’t look like us are somebody else’s problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.
This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don’t have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.
This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn’t look like you might take your job; it’s that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.
This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should’ve been authorized and never should’ve been waged, and we want to talk about how we’ll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.
I would not be running for President if I didn’t believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation – the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election."
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/18/us/politics/18text-obama.html?_r=1&pagewanted=print
It's a solid and unifying masterpiece. He addresses the questionable anti-white/anti-America remarks by his black childhood pastor. He discredits the punch that whites support his candidacy solely because it helps them declare "racial innocence." (See http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120579535818243439.html?mod=googlenews_wsj) He delineates our present-day America, riddled with racial inequities. But he eloquently serves the message that every American, regardless of race, is facing the same challenges. One of my favorite parts of the speech was this:
"As such, Reverend Wright’s comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems – two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all."
Yeah, his words are ideals. But they are the ideals our country needs to unite under.
"For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle – as we did in the OJ trial – or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright’s sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she’s playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.
We can do that.
But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we’ll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.
That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, “Not this time.” This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can’t learn; that those kids who don’t look like us are somebody else’s problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.
This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don’t have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.
This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn’t look like you might take your job; it’s that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.
This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should’ve been authorized and never should’ve been waged, and we want to talk about how we’ll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.
I would not be running for President if I didn’t believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation – the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election."
Monday, March 17, 2008
The blog has been napping
...but just a post to let you know I'm alive.
Over the weekend, I traveled with some friends to Mindo, a pueblo about 2.5 hours from here. It was a fabulous break from the city. We took hikes to/around waterfalls and took several swims (what tranquility! I decided I must live by a waterfall at some point in my life); flew high in the sky, via harness and cable, over awesome views of the forest scenery; saw some beautiful butterflies and hummingbirds in flight; and tore through the muddy abyss that is Mindo on ATVs, aka four-wheelers. What fun!
Now it's back to school for just three days; Thursday begins our spring break. We leave on Thursday morning for the Galapagos! I'll be there until Tuesday, when some friends and I will fly back to southern mainland Ecuador and take our time traveling back up towards Quito, stopping at some cool spots along the way.
I'll leave you with two distinct views from Quito:
Nighttime view from church's rooftop in the Historical Center of Quito
View from a hilltop behind a house in south Quito, with the cloud-covered city stretching behind it
Over the weekend, I traveled with some friends to Mindo, a pueblo about 2.5 hours from here. It was a fabulous break from the city. We took hikes to/around waterfalls and took several swims (what tranquility! I decided I must live by a waterfall at some point in my life); flew high in the sky, via harness and cable, over awesome views of the forest scenery; saw some beautiful butterflies and hummingbirds in flight; and tore through the muddy abyss that is Mindo on ATVs, aka four-wheelers. What fun!
Now it's back to school for just three days; Thursday begins our spring break. We leave on Thursday morning for the Galapagos! I'll be there until Tuesday, when some friends and I will fly back to southern mainland Ecuador and take our time traveling back up towards Quito, stopping at some cool spots along the way.
I'll leave you with two distinct views from Quito:
Nighttime view from church's rooftop in the Historical Center of Quito
View from a hilltop behind a house in south Quito, with the cloud-covered city stretching behind it
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Update: Ecuador-Colombia dispute
To all those who expressed their concern about the current situation here: Thanks. Truly, we are safe in Quito (about 150 miles away from where the incident occurred), and in all probability the situation is purely political and will not escalate further.
To update on the situation:
President of Ecuador Rafael Correa has sent 3,200 troops from the Ecuadorian military to the Colombian border, but it seems this is more symbolic than a military move.
As a result of the incident, Ecuador has broken all diplomatic relations with Colombia, closing the Colombian embassy in Ecuador and bringing Ecuadorian representatives home from its embassy in Colombia.
Correa has also started a "diplomatic offensive" with Venezuela, Peru, Brazil, Panama and the Dominican Republic, against the Colombian government for its violation of other nation's sovereignty.
Relations between Colombia and the rest of Latin America had already been tenuous because of Colombia's relations with and receipt of aid from the US government. This all is just isolating Colombia ever more from its neighboring countries.
To update on the situation:
President of Ecuador Rafael Correa has sent 3,200 troops from the Ecuadorian military to the Colombian border, but it seems this is more symbolic than a military move.
As a result of the incident, Ecuador has broken all diplomatic relations with Colombia, closing the Colombian embassy in Ecuador and bringing Ecuadorian representatives home from its embassy in Colombia.
Correa has also started a "diplomatic offensive" with Venezuela, Peru, Brazil, Panama and the Dominican Republic, against the Colombian government for its violation of other nation's sovereignty.
Relations between Colombia and the rest of Latin America had already been tenuous because of Colombia's relations with and receipt of aid from the US government. This all is just isolating Colombia ever more from its neighboring countries.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Ecuador affected by Colombian anti-rebel fighting
A break from my more light-hearted posts to share this noticia (news) from Ecuador:
In a severe blow to the Colombian rebel group FARC (the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia), the Colombian military launched an attack early today that killed the second-highest ranking FARC commander, Raúl Reyes, and 16 other FARC rebels.
The attack occurred in the southern-most part of Colombia, just on the Ecuadorian border. The fighting spilled over into Ecuador, where the FARC unit was stationed, and where the bodies of Reyes and others were found. Colombian military planes also violated Ecuadorian airspace.
Tonight, my host family and I have been listening to the TV news coverage of this event, which carries great weight for Ecuador. Ecuadorian President Rafael Correa just delivered a speech asserting that Ecuador's sovereignty had been threatened by the Colombian fighting within its borders. In response, President Alvaro Uribe of Colombia has just delivered an apology to Ecuador for the event.
President Hugo Chavéz of Venezuela, which has also been affected by FARC fighting in the past, announced that if a similar event occurred within Venezuela's borders, it would spark a war.
Correa sent troops from Quito to investigate in northern Ecuador, where the fighting had occurred, and they found a permanent FARC station containing food and arms for over 200 people. It is still unclear if the Ecuadorian government knew that this camp was there.
I'm sure we'll continue to hear more about this in the coming week, so I'll keep you all updated as things occur.
In a severe blow to the Colombian rebel group FARC (the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia), the Colombian military launched an attack early today that killed the second-highest ranking FARC commander, Raúl Reyes, and 16 other FARC rebels.
The attack occurred in the southern-most part of Colombia, just on the Ecuadorian border. The fighting spilled over into Ecuador, where the FARC unit was stationed, and where the bodies of Reyes and others were found. Colombian military planes also violated Ecuadorian airspace.
Tonight, my host family and I have been listening to the TV news coverage of this event, which carries great weight for Ecuador. Ecuadorian President Rafael Correa just delivered a speech asserting that Ecuador's sovereignty had been threatened by the Colombian fighting within its borders. In response, President Alvaro Uribe of Colombia has just delivered an apology to Ecuador for the event.
President Hugo Chavéz of Venezuela, which has also been affected by FARC fighting in the past, announced that if a similar event occurred within Venezuela's borders, it would spark a war.
"President Uribe, think about it long and hard. You had better not get the idea of doing this on our territory because it would be a 'causus belli', cause for a war," President Chavez said in his first reaction to the raid." (CNN.com)
Correa sent troops from Quito to investigate in northern Ecuador, where the fighting had occurred, and they found a permanent FARC station containing food and arms for over 200 people. It is still unclear if the Ecuadorian government knew that this camp was there.
I'm sure we'll continue to hear more about this in the coming week, so I'll keep you all updated as things occur.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Amazon, part 4: Monkeys
Just before getting on the boat in Coca to go to Yachana, we got some up-close-and-personal time with two monkeys. They were hanging out in a restaurant by the dock. They were adorable!
Mira (look):
Mira (look):
The Amazon, part 3: Fear Factor, Amazon style
These are larvae of the palm weevil, an indigenous Amazonian delicacy.
WARNING: This is about to get kinda nasty. Don't read on if you have a weak stomach!
I ate one. Alive. I bit off its head (that little reddish thing) and popped back the rest. Not gonna lie - it squirmed at first. Actually, it was less of a squirm and more of a pulse; you can imagine it, that creepy looking wave of movement down a legless insect's body.
The question I anticipate from you is...WHY!? Why on earth would I eat such a thing!? Well, before we got to the Amazon, Jesse (one of the guys in our group) told me he'd heard that the Amazon is home to large, lemon-flavored ants that we'd possibly have the opportunity to try. I really wanted to eat something crazy and memorable, and so Jesse and I were all for dining on the ants. But they fell through - apparently, these ants live in a scarce tree which must be cut open to harvest the ants, which we weren't about doing. I had given up my hope to eat a cool bug.
And then, something amazing happened. Our group was receiving a "cooking lesson" at Yachana, where we learned how to prepare heart of palm, yucca, telapia, and stinging nettle salad. All was well and happy, and then: the guide brought out a large palm leaf folded around its contents. He asked us to guess what was inside, and but none of us expected to find what was there - those little creatures pictured above. And then he randomly pointed to Jesse and said, "Okay, come eat one."
Jesse about flipped. But he'd been challenged, so he agreed. And then I knew what I had to do. We watched the guide demonstrate how to eat the larvae, and then it was our turn. The weevil-eating group grew to six -- five of the six guys in our group, and me. On the count of three, we made the collective chomp.
Truthfully, it didn't really taste like much. But the texture, and the body wave...it was almost too much to handle. But I kept it down.
Our encore was salted weevil larvae on a skewer, roasted over the fire. Crunchy and delicious, this version of the larvae seriously tasted like bacon. I went for seconds.
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Amazon, part 2: In the jungle
Our first night in the Amazon, we slipped on our headlamps and went out on a guided night hike to see what we could see. Nighttime is prime-time for insect viewing, so we saw a lottt of large spiders and other creepy things. But we also saw a poison dart frog and a small, non-venomous snake.
Here's a peek:
The next morning, we took a 4-hour trek through the jungle, led by one of the guides from Yachana. Honestly, it didn't satisfy my thirst for the jungle! We were on trails in the forest around the lodge, so it didn't have that romantic feeling of being deep in the Amazon. Nonetheless, we saw lots of cool stuff, including two species of monkeys, some interesting tropical birds, more large insects, and unique flora.
The trees were what stuck out to me, not only because they were really tall, but also because of their adaptive root structures. Below the shallow layer of decomposing materials on the forest floor, the ground is basically clay that roots don't dig. So, the trees have visible roots spreading across the ground's surface, where their fuel is. And some of the trees were just SO huge, in height and girth, since they are like 400 years old.
Our guide also taught us how to make string out of the fibers inside a palm leaf,
which I thought was awesome. It involved stripping off the outer, dark green layer of the palm, which leaves you with the fibers. Then you roll the fibers into one string, which then you twist and roll into another string of fibers. You're left with a perfect little string. We all made them and are wearing them around our wrists.
Our group split into two for these treks through the jungle, and apparently the other guide stopped in the middle of the jungle, grabbed some palm leaves, and began making a basket right there on the forest floor. I love it.
Here's a peek:
The next morning, we took a 4-hour trek through the jungle, led by one of the guides from Yachana. Honestly, it didn't satisfy my thirst for the jungle! We were on trails in the forest around the lodge, so it didn't have that romantic feeling of being deep in the Amazon. Nonetheless, we saw lots of cool stuff, including two species of monkeys, some interesting tropical birds, more large insects, and unique flora.
The trees were what stuck out to me, not only because they were really tall, but also because of their adaptive root structures. Below the shallow layer of decomposing materials on the forest floor, the ground is basically clay that roots don't dig. So, the trees have visible roots spreading across the ground's surface, where their fuel is. And some of the trees were just SO huge, in height and girth, since they are like 400 years old.
Our guide also taught us how to make string out of the fibers inside a palm leaf,
which I thought was awesome. It involved stripping off the outer, dark green layer of the palm, which leaves you with the fibers. Then you roll the fibers into one string, which then you twist and roll into another string of fibers. You're left with a perfect little string. We all made them and are wearing them around our wrists.Our group split into two for these treks through the jungle, and apparently the other guide stopped in the middle of the jungle, grabbed some palm leaves, and began making a basket right there on the forest floor. I love it.
The Amazon, part 1: Yachana
My post about the Amazon is long overdue, and for that I apologize. So let's get right into it, eh?
We spent a wonderful 4-day weekend in the north of the Oriente, which refers to the whole eastern portion of Ecuador that is the Amazon Rainforest. [Ecuador is divided into three major regions: la Costa, which is the whole western part of Ecuador that greets the Pacific ocean; la Sierra, the mountainous middle range, where Quito is located; and el Oriente, aka jungle, to the east. Ecuador is pretty small, but has an incredibly amount of biodiversity. This fact has lots to do with these three distinct environments located in a small area that makes up Ecuador. Cool, right?]
To get to the jungle, we took a 45-min. flight from Quito to Coca, one of the biggest/most developed areas in the Oriente. Then from Coca, we took a 3-hour motorized canoe ride up Rio Napo, one of the Amazon River's tributaries, to the place where we stayed, a little eco-tourism project called Yachana, which in Quichua, the indigenous language, means "to learn."
I had been pretty skeptical about the whole "eco-tourism" idea...I mean, isn't that an oxymoron? But Yachana was a super-interesting operation that helped me to see eco-tourism for what it should be. The fundamental idea of eco-tourism is this: sustainable tourism that doesn't pollute/degrade/hurt the environment, where a majority of proceeds go back to local communities and towards other responsible purchases. In the case of Yachana, the founders continue to buy areas of Amazon forest to conserve it, so it doesn't get chopped down or abused. They also started a chocolate business, where the chocolate beans are purchased at fair trade prices from over 5,000 cacao farmers in the Amazon region. Earnings from this go back into other Yachana projects, like the technical school they run for high schoolers, who graduate with a diploma in Eco-Tourism and Sustainable Development. They learn practical skills in artistry (jewelry making, weaving, silk-screening), agriculture (growing veggies; rearing chickens, pigs, etc.; cultivating fish), business (selling water filtration units), and other cool stuff. Part of our stay there was touring the high school and learning about what they're learning.
The bottom line belief Yachana is that the future health of the Amazon forest region and the well-being of its inhabitants are inextricably linked. And, the young generation represents the future of the region. So, the education and community-building initiatives are working simultaneously to protect the Amazon, too. Dynamic.
An interesting thing to note is that the owner of the Yachana Foundation is an American, who used to work for an oil company in the Amazon (I want to say Texaco, but I'm not positive). He saw the destruction his business was doing to the region and to the people, and essentially "saw the light." So he started the Yachana project. I really wanted it all to be the brainchild of a local Ecuadorian and was kinda bummed to know it wasn't. The whole thing really does have "American business plan" written all over it. But it's great to see it used for good. And, one of the long-time Ecuadorian tour guides at the Lodge has plans to start his own, similar foundation in his hometown in another part of the Amazon.
Oh, and I gotta mention the FOOD at this place. It was...Amazing. Every meal, we ate like it was our last, just because the food was so delicious... chicken curry, Tilapia, leafy green salads, fresh fruits, a traditional Ecuadorian breakfast, American pancakes, delicious desert - made as much as possible with local ingredients. Heaven on a plate, every meal. And, we were served the Yachana chocolate every day in one form or another - in a rich chocolate sauce we could put on fruit, bread, in milk, or in choconibs to munch on after a meal. Mmmmmmmmmm.
Okay. That's Yachana. Next posts will be about the stuff we did there, including treks through the jungle, a night hike, a visit to a local curandero (like a Shaman), floating with the current down Rio Napo, eating live weevil larvae, eating cooked weevil larvae, playing Ecuavolley with locals, seeing locals pan for gold...and more.
We spent a wonderful 4-day weekend in the north of the Oriente, which refers to the whole eastern portion of Ecuador that is the Amazon Rainforest. [Ecuador is divided into three major regions: la Costa, which is the whole western part of Ecuador that greets the Pacific ocean; la Sierra, the mountainous middle range, where Quito is located; and el Oriente, aka jungle, to the east. Ecuador is pretty small, but has an incredibly amount of biodiversity. This fact has lots to do with these three distinct environments located in a small area that makes up Ecuador. Cool, right?]
To get to the jungle, we took a 45-min. flight from Quito to Coca, one of the biggest/most developed areas in the Oriente. Then from Coca, we took a 3-hour motorized canoe ride up Rio Napo, one of the Amazon River's tributaries, to the place where we stayed, a little eco-tourism project called Yachana, which in Quichua, the indigenous language, means "to learn."
I had been pretty skeptical about the whole "eco-tourism" idea...I mean, isn't that an oxymoron? But Yachana was a super-interesting operation that helped me to see eco-tourism for what it should be. The fundamental idea of eco-tourism is this: sustainable tourism that doesn't pollute/degrade/hurt the environment, where a majority of proceeds go back to local communities and towards other responsible purchases. In the case of Yachana, the founders continue to buy areas of Amazon forest to conserve it, so it doesn't get chopped down or abused. They also started a chocolate business, where the chocolate beans are purchased at fair trade prices from over 5,000 cacao farmers in the Amazon region. Earnings from this go back into other Yachana projects, like the technical school they run for high schoolers, who graduate with a diploma in Eco-Tourism and Sustainable Development. They learn practical skills in artistry (jewelry making, weaving, silk-screening), agriculture (growing veggies; rearing chickens, pigs, etc.; cultivating fish), business (selling water filtration units), and other cool stuff. Part of our stay there was touring the high school and learning about what they're learning.
The bottom line belief Yachana is that the future health of the Amazon forest region and the well-being of its inhabitants are inextricably linked. And, the young generation represents the future of the region. So, the education and community-building initiatives are working simultaneously to protect the Amazon, too. Dynamic.
An interesting thing to note is that the owner of the Yachana Foundation is an American, who used to work for an oil company in the Amazon (I want to say Texaco, but I'm not positive). He saw the destruction his business was doing to the region and to the people, and essentially "saw the light." So he started the Yachana project. I really wanted it all to be the brainchild of a local Ecuadorian and was kinda bummed to know it wasn't. The whole thing really does have "American business plan" written all over it. But it's great to see it used for good. And, one of the long-time Ecuadorian tour guides at the Lodge has plans to start his own, similar foundation in his hometown in another part of the Amazon.
Oh, and I gotta mention the FOOD at this place. It was...Amazing. Every meal, we ate like it was our last, just because the food was so delicious... chicken curry, Tilapia, leafy green salads, fresh fruits, a traditional Ecuadorian breakfast, American pancakes, delicious desert - made as much as possible with local ingredients. Heaven on a plate, every meal. And, we were served the Yachana chocolate every day in one form or another - in a rich chocolate sauce we could put on fruit, bread, in milk, or in choconibs to munch on after a meal. Mmmmmmmmmm.
Okay. That's Yachana. Next posts will be about the stuff we did there, including treks through the jungle, a night hike, a visit to a local curandero (like a Shaman), floating with the current down Rio Napo, eating live weevil larvae, eating cooked weevil larvae, playing Ecuavolley with locals, seeing locals pan for gold...and more.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Watch your back...it's Carnival!
This week we've been recommended to carry an extra pair of clothes with us. You know, just in case we're walking down the street, and we happen to, you know, be the target of a projectile water balloon or a bucket full of water. Yep, we are in the Carnival season.
Carnival is the series of last hurrahs before the beginning of Lent, the 40 days preceding Easter during which devout Catholics often abstain from eating meat and partying. Maybe you've heard about the famous festivals in Brazil, which includes street parties, music, dancing and masquerading. (Think New Orlean's Mardi Gras on steroids.)
Around here, the most common manifestation of the Carnival season is water fights. Basically, any person in any public place is prone to be wet at any moment. Most common players: school-aged boys. Most common targets: adolescent girls. Most common aftermath: targeted girls scream, and may pick up sticks and rush toward the boys. Sticks are sometimes substituted with the hand. Boys quickly flee. Girls stand aghast for a few minutes at the site of attack, comparing the wetness of their clothes, and then continue--albeit soggily--on their way.
My friend Abby and I were so lucky to be such a target. It actually happened a few weeks ago (more or less, it seems that the Carnival season begins as soon as boys buy water balloons, even if Lent is still weeks away). We were walking home from the bus, happily chatting. There was a boy, probably 13, standing on the side of the sidewalk a few feet ahead of us. I saw him, we made brief eye contact, and we kept walking. But in the next moment, a whole pack of boys--probably 6 total--was upon us, dumping buckets of frigid water and smashing water balloons on us. We were so surprised, we basically just stood there and took it! I think I sputtered something like, "Ahh! Que malo! Todavia no es Carnival!" (Ahh! How cruel! It's not carnival yet!) But they were gone. We laughed hysterically the rest of the way home.
A few pictures we took at the end of the next block.
Carnival is the series of last hurrahs before the beginning of Lent, the 40 days preceding Easter during which devout Catholics often abstain from eating meat and partying. Maybe you've heard about the famous festivals in Brazil, which includes street parties, music, dancing and masquerading. (Think New Orlean's Mardi Gras on steroids.)
Around here, the most common manifestation of the Carnival season is water fights. Basically, any person in any public place is prone to be wet at any moment. Most common players: school-aged boys. Most common targets: adolescent girls. Most common aftermath: targeted girls scream, and may pick up sticks and rush toward the boys. Sticks are sometimes substituted with the hand. Boys quickly flee. Girls stand aghast for a few minutes at the site of attack, comparing the wetness of their clothes, and then continue--albeit soggily--on their way.
My friend Abby and I were so lucky to be such a target. It actually happened a few weeks ago (more or less, it seems that the Carnival season begins as soon as boys buy water balloons, even if Lent is still weeks away). We were walking home from the bus, happily chatting. There was a boy, probably 13, standing on the side of the sidewalk a few feet ahead of us. I saw him, we made brief eye contact, and we kept walking. But in the next moment, a whole pack of boys--probably 6 total--was upon us, dumping buckets of frigid water and smashing water balloons on us. We were so surprised, we basically just stood there and took it! I think I sputtered something like, "Ahh! Que malo! Todavia no es Carnival!" (Ahh! How cruel! It's not carnival yet!) But they were gone. We laughed hysterically the rest of the way home.
A few pictures we took at the end of the next block.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Mis abuelitos
It´s not a new realization for me that old people are cute. I love old people! This definitely includes my abuelitos (grandparents) here. They are my host mom´s parents, and although they have their own casita (little house) in the historical center of Quito, they´ve been staying at my host family´s place since I´ve been here. My brother told me it was because the abuelita (grandmother) had surgery on her throat, so they would stay while she recovered and then move back to their home. I´ve really enjoyed having them around.
I am not sure how old they are. Abuelita has a youthful face, but a frail body - she has restricted movement of her arms, and she gets around very slowly using a walker. This, combined with her whisper of a voice (I guess from the surgery), makes her seem quite elderly. But, despite all this, she has a young mind! She loves implying that I meet a nice Ecuadorian boy, get married, and live here. She says she knows many young American girls who have done it! And, ¿por que no? When my Ecuamama is concerned about me getting home at a reasonable hour, Abuelita encourages me to go out, have a good time, and dance a lot!
Abuelito (grandfather) is equally adorable. He is definitely older than Abuelita. After dinner, he always excuses himself from the table and hobbles with his cane over to where Abuelita is sitting, and helps her get to her walker. It´s simple and lovely. Abuelito is fluent in both Spanish and Quichua, the indigenous Andean language...and apparently, he knows bits and pieces of English, too, from previous international students! The other evening, I was sitting in the common room reading, and he entered the room. ¨Good morning!¨ he said to me. But I acutally didn´t understand what he said, maybe because I was in Spanish mode and wasn´t expecting English, or because it was in fact the evening, or because it sounded something more like ¨gumonon,¨hehe. Martin (my 13 yr old brother) was sitting nearby, and he said, in spanish, ¨No, Abuelito, it´s Good night¨. Then, a few nights ago at dinner, I was sitting at the table with the Abuelitos. Before Abuelito gets up from the table, he usually says, ¨Perdon.¨ But instead, he asked me what you say in English, so I told him you say Excuse me. He repeated it several times, exoose me, exoose me, exoose me, exoose me, and then he and Abuelita left the kitchen. The next night, after he and Abuelita finished their dinners, he looked up at me and said, with such gusto, ´Esqueeze me!´ Ahhhhh it was soo cute! I corrected him politely, and since then he´s been saying it like a native. And now, he also says good morning and good night at the correct hours of the day. :)
Interesting side note: If you have studied spanish, you probably learned the word grandparents as simply abuelos. It is common Quiteño Spanish to use the diminutive of many words, by adding -ito or -ita as a suffix, which is the basic equivalent of adding ¨little¨ before the word youre using. So abuelitos literally means little grandparents!
I am not sure how old they are. Abuelita has a youthful face, but a frail body - she has restricted movement of her arms, and she gets around very slowly using a walker. This, combined with her whisper of a voice (I guess from the surgery), makes her seem quite elderly. But, despite all this, she has a young mind! She loves implying that I meet a nice Ecuadorian boy, get married, and live here. She says she knows many young American girls who have done it! And, ¿por que no? When my Ecuamama is concerned about me getting home at a reasonable hour, Abuelita encourages me to go out, have a good time, and dance a lot!
Abuelito (grandfather) is equally adorable. He is definitely older than Abuelita. After dinner, he always excuses himself from the table and hobbles with his cane over to where Abuelita is sitting, and helps her get to her walker. It´s simple and lovely. Abuelito is fluent in both Spanish and Quichua, the indigenous Andean language...and apparently, he knows bits and pieces of English, too, from previous international students! The other evening, I was sitting in the common room reading, and he entered the room. ¨Good morning!¨ he said to me. But I acutally didn´t understand what he said, maybe because I was in Spanish mode and wasn´t expecting English, or because it was in fact the evening, or because it sounded something more like ¨gumonon,¨hehe. Martin (my 13 yr old brother) was sitting nearby, and he said, in spanish, ¨No, Abuelito, it´s Good night¨. Then, a few nights ago at dinner, I was sitting at the table with the Abuelitos. Before Abuelito gets up from the table, he usually says, ¨Perdon.¨ But instead, he asked me what you say in English, so I told him you say Excuse me. He repeated it several times, exoose me, exoose me, exoose me, exoose me, and then he and Abuelita left the kitchen. The next night, after he and Abuelita finished their dinners, he looked up at me and said, with such gusto, ´Esqueeze me!´ Ahhhhh it was soo cute! I corrected him politely, and since then he´s been saying it like a native. And now, he also says good morning and good night at the correct hours of the day. :)
Interesting side note: If you have studied spanish, you probably learned the word grandparents as simply abuelos. It is common Quiteño Spanish to use the diminutive of many words, by adding -ito or -ita as a suffix, which is the basic equivalent of adding ¨little¨ before the word youre using. So abuelitos literally means little grandparents!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Otavalo
Last weekend, our BCA group took a bus up to Otavalo, a city two hours north of Quito. Otavalo is most famous for its incredibly large market, where vendors are selling lots of woven crafts (rugs, wall-hangings, hammocks, bags, scarves, etc.), cheap imitations of Andean instruments (panflutes, regular flutes, mini-guitars), and lots of little trinket type crafts. It was cool to look at everything. While the amount of vendors was overwhelming, I quickly realized that they were all selling really similar stuff, sometimes the exact same stuff. I bought a few things, including a cheap flute that I paid too much for. My plan is to get really good and then buy a professional grade one!
On Saturday night, most of us went out to a pizza place, where there was an Andean band playing traditional Andean music. I LOVE the Andean music! The rhythm is provided by a guitar and a smaller, 10-string guitar, and the bass by a drum, and then the melody by the flute and panpipe. It´s awwwesome! So I was totally into the music, and I think the band noticed. During a break, I went up to ask about the drum -- turns out it´s called a ¨bom bom¨ here -- and then the drummer let me try it out. Then, he handed me a panpipe to play with them during the next song! Let me just say that these aren´t 3 minute pop songs. I was probably standing\dancing up there with them for over 5 minutes, squeaking a note out of the panpipe every once in a while, but mostly enjoying the music that they were playing. Hah, but it was so fun! Some of my friends took some photos, and one even took a video, so maybe, if you´re lucky, those will emerge at some point for you all to see.
We also paid a visit to the ¨Mitad del Mundo¨ (Center of the World) monument, located directly on the equator at 0´0¨. Why is THIS spot the center of the world, you ask, when every spot on the equator could be the center of the world? Well, good question! They say this site is especially special because it is situated in the mountains, with an excellent view of the sky. It was from this place that the indigenous people many many years ago observed the cosmos and realized that the equator was there. Other spots along the equator, including the Galapagos Islands, the Amazon Rainforest, Indonesia, Africa, aren´t as special as this place because they don´t have the clear, unobstructed view of the sky. While it is a touristy spot, it was still cool to see and literally be in two hemispheres at once. This is my mandatory "one foot on each hemisphere" photo:
We also took a hike to and around an amazing waterfall. It is a common pilgrimage site for indigenous people to come and bath in, and we saw some people doing that. There were also people repelling down the waterfall, which looked crazy sketchy! They had their ropes tied around rocks under water at the top of the waterfall. AHH! But the guy doing it made it down alive!
Here are a few of the pics I took over the weekend.
Pretty butterfly
Woman making yummy empañadas
A small shop near Otavalo
a beautiful pup
On Saturday night, most of us went out to a pizza place, where there was an Andean band playing traditional Andean music. I LOVE the Andean music! The rhythm is provided by a guitar and a smaller, 10-string guitar, and the bass by a drum, and then the melody by the flute and panpipe. It´s awwwesome! So I was totally into the music, and I think the band noticed. During a break, I went up to ask about the drum -- turns out it´s called a ¨bom bom¨ here -- and then the drummer let me try it out. Then, he handed me a panpipe to play with them during the next song! Let me just say that these aren´t 3 minute pop songs. I was probably standing\dancing up there with them for over 5 minutes, squeaking a note out of the panpipe every once in a while, but mostly enjoying the music that they were playing. Hah, but it was so fun! Some of my friends took some photos, and one even took a video, so maybe, if you´re lucky, those will emerge at some point for you all to see.
We also paid a visit to the ¨Mitad del Mundo¨ (Center of the World) monument, located directly on the equator at 0´0¨. Why is THIS spot the center of the world, you ask, when every spot on the equator could be the center of the world? Well, good question! They say this site is especially special because it is situated in the mountains, with an excellent view of the sky. It was from this place that the indigenous people many many years ago observed the cosmos and realized that the equator was there. Other spots along the equator, including the Galapagos Islands, the Amazon Rainforest, Indonesia, Africa, aren´t as special as this place because they don´t have the clear, unobstructed view of the sky. While it is a touristy spot, it was still cool to see and literally be in two hemispheres at once. This is my mandatory "one foot on each hemisphere" photo:
We also took a hike to and around an amazing waterfall. It is a common pilgrimage site for indigenous people to come and bath in, and we saw some people doing that. There were also people repelling down the waterfall, which looked crazy sketchy! They had their ropes tied around rocks under water at the top of the waterfall. AHH! But the guy doing it made it down alive!
Here are a few of the pics I took over the weekend.
Pretty butterfly
Woman making yummy empañadas
A small shop near Otavalo
a beautiful pup
Friday, January 11, 2008
Snapshots
Street scene in el Centro Histórico (Historical Center) de Quito
Two musicians in el Centro Histórico 
Church in el Centro Histórico
Llama and a view of Quito
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