I live here?

Before Omnibus 106 departed for Ecuador, the PC warned us that the first few months would be filled with an intensive pre-service training program. Not an exaggeration. From Monday-Friday, we're in the training center from 8:00-5:00 perfecting our Spanish, memorizing security procedures, and learning to temporarily self-medicate until help arrives if our poops suddenly contain 6 foot worms or maggots begin growing under our skin (I wish I was kidding). We also engage in various supplementary projects ranging from running life-skills classes in local schools to planting tire gardens and basil around the training center.

Despite the intensive program, I still look around in awe about 198731897 per day and think “I get to live here.” Whether meandering through a local canyon during our lunch break, jogging along the ciclovia as the mist rises from the valley in the early AM, our sampling still-unknown fruits from local vendor, Ecuador still proves enchanting. Do I really get to live here?

Some highlights from the past few weeks:

Mascarilla:For my cultural trip, I had the opportunity to spend a night in Mascarilla, an Afro-Ecuadorian community of about 1200 people located in Imbabura about 4 hours north of Quito. While I enjoyed creating traditional masks, chewing on sugar cane,and learning to dance Bindo (I'm almost as good at it as I am at salsa...which is to say I need more than a little practice), the time spent just playing sports, drawing, and teaching community kids to use my camara proved truly unforgettable and clinched my desire to work in a small town.

I also loved staying with my host family...minus briefly believing that I was about to be kidnapped when someone began pounding on the unlocked front door that was 3 feet away from my bed at 3 AM. Apparently they weren't looking for me though. They just wanted one of the eight month old twins, which the mother promptly gave them. WTF?

On a more serious note, it was an interesting look at race and ethnicity in an Ecuadorian context. Ecuador boasts one of the strongest indigenous movements in Latin America, yet indigenous communities remain significantly poorer than the majority of their mestizo counterparts. The Afro-Ecuadorian community does not have an particularly strong advocacy organizations according to our hosts, and consequently remains one of the poorest and most marginalized demographics in the country. Our hosts told us of nearby Afro-Ecuadorian communities in which the majority of residents work on sugar cane farms for only a few dollars per day.

While numbers and anecdotes are certainly upsetting, it was a simple children's game that truly bothered me. The rules are essentially the same as those of “Sharks and Minnows,” but before the minnows ran across the street, the kids chanted the following:

Sharks: “Who wants to play with the Black Man”
Minnows: “No one wants to play with the Black Man”
Sharks: “Why not?”
Minnows: “Because he's black.”
Sharks: “What does he eat?”
Minnows: “Meat.”
Sharks:”What does he drink?”
Minnows: “Blood.”

Regardless of the community, this chant is disturbing. Yet, the children (all of whom were Afro-Ecuadorian) continued chanting it. In fact, they loved it. How do you address this form of institutionalized racism? The kids may not really pay attention to the words, but what ideas are they internalizing?

Racism is certainly not a uniquely Ecuadorian phenomenon. It exists in nearly every country around the world and needs to be addressed. But where to start? With social systems and structures or simple childrens' rhymes?

Iloa: Tumbaco, our lovely home during training, is surrounded by numerous mountains and hills including Iloa. Last Sunday, some PCTs and I decided to venture to the first cross and enjoy the view. Having enjoyed the trip, we decided to continue onto the summit after an old man assured us it was only 30 minutes further down the path. Well, we must have missed a turn because about 5 hour, 1 massive sunburn, 12389 bug bites, 1 charging horse, and innumerable stunning views later, we finally passed another cross and arrived in the town of El Tingo. Worth the trek? Of course.

To the Torres del Paine crew, reunion in the Ecuadorian Andes?

Deportes: Spending nine hours per day in the training center just isn't enough. So why not stay for a few more hours and perfect our ultimate frisbee and american football skills (I promise that I'll catch the ball/frisbee someday) or challenge the Ecuadorian staff to a soccer game? Deportes are actually one of my favorite parts of the week, especially when we walk home under the stars and the lights of Quito twinkle in the distance after a pseudo-intense game in which the score never matters and the last goal always wins.

PACA Projects: As a means of understanding the needs of a community, PCVs use numerous PACA tools to assess the town's perceptions of their own needs. For our first major assignment, we had to go to the nearby town of Pifo and put the tools into practice. In itself, this would be an awesome opportunity to explore a small town and enjoy the sunshine, but it was completely overshadowed by the town's guest: President Rafael Correa. As part of his current administration, he travels to a different small community each weekend and gives a speech. We just happened to be in Pifo on the same day so I had the opportunity to hear him speak and enjoy free bread and juice “gracias al presidente.”

Julian's Baptism: Yesterday, we baptized my 1.5 year old host nephew. The ceremony differed from the US in that it wasn't a mass. Rather, about a dozen people of all ages and their families assembled in the church just to be baptized. My family gave my the all-important role of paparazzi; I had to creep around the church and get the perfect shot. Much more challenging than it seems given that every other family had about 12 photographers also jockeying for positions. Added to my slight discomfort being the paparazzi (although it was clearly culturally-appropriate since EVERYONE was doing it), this made for an interesting ceremony.

Afterwards, we returned home y celebramos. It was my first large Ecuadorian family shindig and it brought back memories of Paraguay in that we ate crazy amounts of food and everyone shared a cup. At first the communal cup thing made me a bit wary of germs especially given the medical lectures about germs and diseases and whatnot. But I've decided I really like it. Whenever asked to “serve,” I had to walk around and pour everyone a glassa and chat with them as they chugged it. This gave me an excellent opportunity to learn names, meet my Ecuadorian family, and otherwise bond with everyone there.

Host Familia: Maybe I'm just lucky, but I seem to have won the host family lottery once again. Although I'm not home nearly as often as I would like, I definitely enjoy our meals together. Sometimes we chat; sometimes we watch telenovelas that make “Donde esta Elisa” seem realistic (is that possible); sometimes we watch the Ecuadorian “Deal or No Deal.” The show itself follows a similar format, except its sponsored by the omnipresent food company Nestle. Rather than pick numbered suitcases, contestants choose suitcases labeled as Nestle products (i.e. I'll take the Nescafe). Commercialization much?

I only wish we didn't follow such as Ecuadorian sleep schedule. We're all in bed sleeping (or trying to sleep thanks to the wonderful melofloquine-produced sleep disturbance currently disrupting my life) by 10.00 and up and about before 6.00 AM. Who would have thought I could function on this schedule a few months ago?

La Comida: Fruit. Tropical fruit. Amazing. Some other interesting cultural experiences...I ordered a corn on the cob from a vendor near the church. After grilling it, the man proceeded to douse it in mayonnaise. Uh? Maybe I'll just have a fried plaintain or twelve next time. On the bright side, I recently made a deal with the women who sells empanadas by the plaza. When we return from our tech trips, she'll teach me to make empanadas if I teach her English. I cannot wait. Hungry anyone?

With so much food, it's a good thing I've found my running crew. Unoffically-captained by the “Conejo Viejo” who has run upwards of 20 marathons and served as a PCV in Paraguay in the 70s, the five man team meets in the wee hours of the morning to jog through the valley. Starts everyday off right...especially since we have nescafe instead of folgers in our cup(s). (Although omnibus 106 does have a coffee club designed to satiate all of our real coffee withdrawal, at least while we're still at the training center).

Pictures will once again be posted on Facebook and Picasa.

Hay los vidrios (mi despedida preferida en este momento)!

Love,
Christy