the return.

i think this will be my last post ecuador related. which makes me sad. also, i apologize now if i have ever repeated myself here. in ecuador, i did not use a planner, which is usually something i can't live without. i didn't own a calendar, or really keep track of anything. this was a really great break, but it also makes me forget things. so sorry. i also did not keep up with pop culture or news articles....



i feel like i am so distant from ecuador here. all sorts of things happened, and now they're so far away i can't touch them. i will never be able to touch them again. they're intangible or fake. a dream. i dont want to be that person. that person who comes home from abroad and cant stop blabbering about being in a place slightly different from home. even if it was canada, you know people who do this, and you want to hit them. don't lie.
how do you relate your time abroad to those around you? i dont know what to say when anyone asks to hear a story. really guys? thats like saying, hey, can you sum up your past four months in a anecdote?
what do you want to hear? what kind of image of ecuador would you like me to portray?
i could say whatever i want. i could make up tales. i could tell you some sad sad things that i saw, horrible injustices. i could tell you how much fun i had jumping off cliffs and sitting on beaches. i could tell you it was horrible, or wonderful. and you would have no reason to not believe every word i threw at you.

so funny story, my last day in quito i was slightly kidnapped by my host brother. i was out and about all day, doing last minute shopping. then i came home and my host brother says, do you want to go to a play? and i say sure. then we go pick up his girlfriend and her cousin, then we drive around in horrible traffic, then we decide not to go to the play at all, then we go to the mall and unsuccessfully find a suitcase for his mother, then we eat at waffles and crepes, then we go to an expensive bar and stay out until 2:30. Mind you, i am wearing a measly t shirt and jeans because everything else was packed. oh, and i had to wake up at 5 am for my flight home. oh, and i still had to pack stuff and write out my flight directions. and thats how my life goes.
his girlfriend's cousin works for UNESCO. This is probably the coolest thing in the entire world. besides maybe working for UNICEF. i grilled her about every detail of her position. she seems to think its not a big deal.

my host mom woke up at 5 am to drive me to the airport. i didnt ask her to or anything. she just woke up like it was natural and threw my bags in her trunk. the drive was quiet, anxious. she gave me 3 hand knit scarves and told me she had to leave right away because she was blocking the receiving lane. no time for tears, just hugs.

i got incredibly annoyed in the airport because i had to stand in 8 different lines. the ecuadorian security guard made me throw out my brand new jar of jam. and i couldnt bring any water past the entry gate. i.hate.airports. i got a lot of sleep on flight 1 so i wasnt too tired. then i had to literally sprint across the houston airport to get my connection to milwaukee. that thing is the size of a small city. i was exasperated. then i sat in seat A1 on flight 2, which was very strange. i think this made the flight attendant feel like we were friends. unfortunately i wasn't really in the mood to chat with him. i think he took that personally. i was also irrationally upset he was not speaking spanish.

i really, really hate subdivisions. did you know they scar mother earth like unsightly spider veins? think about that one.

on being back.
life is strangely exactly the same here. i see no significant differences. i wish i could show everyone exactly what i saw, like with a movie. then maybe things would be different.
my hair is a little blonder, my skin's a little tanner, and this year i'm actually ok hearing rat pack christmas on repeat. but other than that i'm not too different either.

i went paragliding when i was at the beach. no, that is not the kind with the boat. i will post pictures someday on my picasa site. i also might post pictures of me cooking with my grandmother from milwaukee so you can all be jealous of her amazing lasagna.


goodbye for now blog, i'm sure we'll hang out again real soon. & happy holidays readers.

one week.

hey all.
my flight leaves at the crack of dawn a week from today. tomorrow i am going to the beach, and it is blizzarding in wisco. i dont know how i feel about that, blizzards. yesterday i went rafting in the amazon, the weekend before i went to cotopaxi national park and the day before that i went up the teleferiqo on mt. pichincha. basically i´ve been doing all sorts of things! so i´ll give a little blurb about all of them real quickly-

Leaving Otavalo-last thursday and friday- my host parents got me a going away cake! it was really nice. we took some pictures and stuff, and i posted them up. unfortnately i hadnt done laundry in a long time so i look odd in all the photos. the next day i said goodbye to them all in small doses. my host dad was last, because he is just at his store all day. this would have been incredibly more sad if i hadnt been crammed in a small taxi like a clown on the way there. and our taxista kept making us laugh. my host dad did look genuinely sad to see me go though. we promised to write and stuff. i am definitely lucky to have had such great experiences with both my host families.

Teleferiqo-saturday is kind of like a ski lift, but with cabinas, that takes you to the top of the highest mountain surrounding quito. there is hiking and gorgeous views. unfortunately we went on a saturday when it was packed and spent more time waiting in line than on the mountain. but it was beautiful. it was also freezing cold, and by the time we were a the top we were starving, and the only food place open had stale chips, which i wolfed down in negative 2 seconds. then a group of people started singing spanish religious songs. this is NOT comforting at this altitude, let me assure you.

Festivals de Quito- week long- almost forgot about this. Quito´s founding was on dec 6th, and every year there are week and a half long festivals celebrating just this one day. there are bull fights, parades, parties, and all out craziness. i went out on saturday the 5th and the streets were extremely crowded. it was incredibly fun though. we ended up going to a street party and dancing until very early in the morning.

Cotopaxi National Park- sunday-Cotopaxi is an active volcano, 45 minutes outside of quito. it has its own huge national park and you have to pay to get in, as well as to get a guide to drive you. otherwise its a 10 hr hike. the volcano was actually covered with clouds and my camera was out of battery, so i will steal photos from my friends and post them later. but this was the second day in a row i was hanging out in clouds all afternoon (the first being teleferiqo). we also saw wild horses running around which were really gorgeous

Quito-monday- monday i went to class in the new CIMAs building, which i hadn´t visited yet. its new location is up in the north end of quito, on a hill with an incredible view of the city. this building is so pimp, i cannot believe i only get to spend two days in it. its like not being in quito at all. it actually kind of felt like a hotel. this day i was extremely tired, and class was pretty pointless. i went home and packed, and left for the amazon for two days.

Tena- monday-wednesday- Tena is the capital of the province of Puyo, one of the three provinces in the oriente, aka amazon region. its a 5 or 6 hr bus ride from quito, and we got in pretty late, so we just slept upon arrival. the next day we took a 15 min bus to archidona, to go to a monkey park. we hiked around for a bit and took a bunch of pictures of foilage. yes, i love pictures of foilage, dont judge. wednesday we went on a full day rafting trip with some guides and three random people who were all traveling alone. it was kind of surreal. we did a class 4, which is second to only class 5, which i dont think you actually raft on. this being my first time rafting it was kind of scary, but fun. at one point the guide let us get out and slide down a rapid. i guess i slid down the more intense side on accident and i was not prepared to go under. i had no idea what end was up, or where the rocks were. needless to say, i will never do that again. most terrifying moment i have probably ever had. overall it was really fun, and the scenery was breathtaking.

thursday-today- classes were canceled because i´m giving my presentation tomorrow. this is upsetting because if i had known this i would have been able to do a jungle tour in tena, and stay another day. oh well. tomorrow i´m leaving for the beach, then i have one day in quito to bum around, and thursday the 17th i´m coming home. i have already planned a food itinerary for my whole first week back :)

see you soon

the harsh reality of my study abroad coming to a close

this is a post from actually- nov.

I’m trying to wrap my mind around the concept of leaving this country in three weeks, and its making me dizzy. I feel like theres so much more to learn. There’s so much more to do. Theres so much more to see. Ecuador is one third the size of Texas, and somehow, even though I’ve traveled to at least 10 cities, I still haven’t seen the whole country. I guess the Andes would be the biggest part of this dilemma because they make bus travel take 3 times what it actually should be, but I’m not necessarily referring only to terrain.

I guess this is a testament to what I’m going to miss about my beloved Ecuador.

Random things covered in primary colors- the colors of the Ecuadorian flag
Hanging out in origami class with my host dad.
Waking up to the mountains outside my window.
People putting way too much faith in plastic bags.
Chattering with friendly taxistas, and asking them their favorite things about Ecuador, and if Jackies with me, their favorite dirty words.
Panaderias, Colada Morada, and my Quito host mom’s ingenious cooking inventions.
HOT futbol players, and everyones obsession with them.
The phrases que beastia, que chevere, achachay, and mis guaguas.
Terms of endearment that include, but that are not limited to- mi amor, mi hija, mi vida flaco, gordo, (my love, my child, my live , skinny, fatty) and people answering the phone using these.
Every staff member at my internship except Miguel, because hes a douche.
Succesfully speaking with locals daily. It still baffles me that that understand my horrible excuse for Spanish.
Boys who can dance.
Living on Rio Coca (my street in Quito). For some reason I just love my street.
When Emilia swoops into the classroom and shakes things up like a storm. Or when she sings you are my sunshine and talks about love. She loves to love.

Its like I want to hug everyone and everything and somehow take a piece of them with me.

Like Antonio, one of CIMAs staff members. Sometimes we coincidentally ride the bus together. He wears sweaters and collared shirts everyday. I love him. Analouisa. I love her name, and shes always got the student’s backs. CIMAs is 10 times cooler because of her. My neighbors here in Otavalo, (I have also refered to them as ‘keepers of the key’). They’re both about 4.5 feet tall, elderly, and adorable. This morning the husband told me I was beautiful, even though I haven’t showered and am only wearing a t-shirt. This is a shout out to him. The guy who makes my eggs in the morning, who I secretly adore. Not in a romantic way, but in a I really appreciate the presence of this human being sort of way. I don’t think he has any idea how sweet I think he is because we barely ever conversate. But I always burst into my dad’s tienda in the morning really excited to say buenas dias to him and he looks at me like I’m a lunatic. I love him. My host brother Sebastian, from the Quito fam, who actually lives far away in Guayaquil. He is the sweetest boy alive. The other day he was having an arguement with his girlfriend on skype, but he put it on hold so he could kiss me on the cheek and properly say goodbye. What a stand up guy. Guillermo, my host abuelo from Quito, will definitely be missed in a big way. We like to joke, and I think that our relationship is very special. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. My host dad from Otavalo gets a special spot too. He wears Bill Crosby sweaters and always looks out for me. Hes a dork, and totally ok with it. Hes not into American/European labels, or being fake. Hes completely ok just being himself. Anabel! Anabel is so expressive, so loving, so open and lively. I’m glad people like her exist in life. She gets it. I have decided she is my Ecuadorian aunt.

Quien mas? Quien mas?

Its hard to think about how attached I am here, and how I’d love to stay, but how I’m also excited to go home. Its also makes me wonder how it will ever be possible to do and see all the things in the world I want to. How can you ever really appreciate all there is to appreciate? Or is it that you should just appreciate the fact that there is so much to appreciate?

I have officially been bitten by the travel bug.

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What has study abroad taught me about myself?

I have realized that I really don’t like sharing, unless its something that I don’t want, like food items I don’t enjoy. I have also realized that I am picky with my food, mainly my meat, which I’d prefer not to eat, but I’m getting better. Little things annoy me, like barking dogs, and when people clear their throats once every minute. I prefer it when people reply to my emails in a timely fashion.

People can both support the same cause, but go about it in a completely different way. They can both live love and breathe the cause, but despise each other.

I like to fix things, and organize them.

I feel that the education system fails me at least 7 times a day. I blame neoliberalismo.


A Day in the Life: Otavalo:

Wake up at 6 am with the sun thanks to my lack of drapes, but lay in bed snoozing until 6:35, which is more acceptable.
Debate whether or not I can go another day without showering.
Bus to my host padres tienda and eat two eggs, pan, juice, and tea, prepared by a co-worker of my padre. My favorite meal of the day.
Go to INFA for pasantia, maybe sit in on therapy. Go to a house visit, but not before or without running errands with Sofie and Anabel. (Because we might as well run personal errands and be late for our house visits if its on the way.)
Come back to INFA, watch the computer like a hawk in case it is left unattended. If this happens, jump on computer and check email as quickly as humanly possible.
Listen to Tito play reggaeton and disco music for me on his cell phone. Mind you, Tito is like 40.
Get harassed by Tito and Christian who INSIST I eat soup and rice for lunch. Decline 8 times.
Leave for lunch- this consists of me hunting down the lady with the 1 dollar sandwiches. I love her.
Spend some time in my favorite internet café.
Dink around in Otavalo, buy something I don’t need in the market, maybe go somewhere random with my host parents. Pretend to work on my paper.
Go home with my host parents around 8 or 9 in a taxi stuffed with me, alejandro (12), la nena (1), and the padres. This is also a favorite part of the day, I am not being sarcastic.
Eat dinner, usually rice, French fries, and meat. If I’m lucky I get another egg instead.
Pass out in my bed at 9:30.

A Day in the Life: Quito

Wake up at 7:05 (thank god for curtains).
Shower, eat breakfast- still my favorite meal- fruit, bread, my host mom’s famous juice.
Bus with Anna to CIMAs,
Sit through boring lectures, usually about nothingness.
Avoid Emilia at all costs, lest she swoop in and start a speech about more nothingness.
Spend one or two hours getting lunch.
Sit through my favorite class- Spanish. Stare at Beto's moustache
Search for something to do in the 2 hours of daylight remaining, get home before 6.
Dink around on the internet, pretend to read the bibliography.
Go upstairs at 7:30 to drink coffee in my abuelas kitchen. Steal the newspaper from Guillermo.
10 pm- curl up in my huge bed

today today

Today we did a house visit up in Peguche, where the engagement party was. This was probably the worst case I have seen. I wish I could have photographed it. There is a family there with 8 kids, and a single dad. The mom ran off with another man a year ago to Colombia. Seven of the kids haven’t been to school since! Their house is a three room cement block, with dirt floors. There was no bathroom, and no windows. Everything was grimy, and smelled like pee. There were 5 cot-like beds. You could tell which one was the 15 year old’s because it was surrounded, floor to ceiling, with Disney posters: Hannah Montana, Jonas Brothers, Hilary Duff, etc. The wall was like a massive collage, no space left uncovered. The dad works from 6 am to 6 pm, so he wasn’t home. All the kids looked like they needed showers. We borrowed a comb from a neighbor so we could comb some of the little kids’ hair. Three of them had fevers and a cough so we took them to the hospital. I feel like my mom switch was turned on. All I wanted to do was clean their house, give them showers, wash their clothes, and make them dinner. I just wanted to fix everything. The hardest thing about it is the huge disparity between the rich and the poor. Two blocks away from this decrepit little house, there was a tall, handsome 3 story house, nicely painted with an suv in the front yard.

And I know what you’re thinking. How could that bitch abandon her children? Well, I know its not right, but I understand. In indigenous communities, they don’t use birth control. There is a lot of ‘machismo’ – the feelings and actions men have when they feel like they need to prove their manhood. They think if their wife wants birth control, they want it so they can fool around with other men. They think its best when their wife is pregnant all the time. Also, most women don’t know how to family plan. There is a practice of traditional medicinal massage that delays the next pregnancy, but its not like the woman will never get pregnant again. So many women end up having lots of children, and being dominated by their husbands. Lots of men don’t want their spouse educated, so they don’t have knowledge to get a job. Theres a lot of sexism and family abuse that goes on too. So heres this woman, stuck in a shack with 8 kids that she probably didn’t want, with a drunkard for a husband, and no money. Stay or leave, what sounds better to you?

“Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.”- the fray.

just a regular saturday night..

Saturday, two weekends ago, I was invited by my friend Jackie and her host family to an indigenous engagement party. This was really interesting, but I’ll have to get photos from my friend to share. We bought some crates of fruit as a gift, and were driven in the back of a pick up truck to a house in the community of Peguche. Basically what happens is everyone congregates at the groom’s house, eats food, drinks, and dances, then carries the food over to the bride’s house and eats more. First we had chicken soup. When I say chicken soup, I mean chicken soup. We all had a different chicken part in our bowls. We successfully identified the head, the feet, or the intestines. Jackie’s host mom was prepared though. When we couldn’t finish out soup, a plastic bag magically appeared from the folds in her skirt and she poured our leftovers in it.

Indigenous women wear skirts with a tight, beautifully weaved belt, and white embroidered blouses. They don’t have pockets, so they keep their stuff in their shirts or belts. It is incredible the things they keep in their blouses. Claire’s host mom had her cell phone, her address book, her money, and god knows what else in hers. It’s like they keep their secrets in there. You never know what they’re going to pull out.

So anyway, while everyone was sitting around in a circle eating soup, some women were cooking cuy (guinea pig, a delicacy here) over an open fire. Other women were cooking and handing out more soup. Men were walking around with a cup and a bottle of soda. They would pour you a glass, and then wait for the cup back and fill it again for the next person. Basically everyone in the room drank out of the same cup. Then they came around with warm aguadiente- very strong local liquor. Instead of cups they had baby cups that looked like thimbles. Indigenous men like to get drunk, and their wives like to sit around and complain about how drunk they are. Meanwhile, this whole time people have been arriving with crates of fruit, sacks of potatoes as large as me, boxes of pilsner, (local beer), and live chickens and cuys. A band came and we danced a bit. Then some of the live cuys and chickens were tied at their feet to a large stick, kind of like a spit. There were probably 20 cuys on one and 20 chickens on the other. Then we carried the spits, and all the food over to the bride’s house. Thankfully they lived close together. We stopped twice to have a dance session. I felt like we were doing a Chinese fire drill. We stopped the caravan and started dancing in circles, crates in hand, then continued walking. When we arrived at the bride’s house we were of course given more soup. We left shortly after, but the party continued well past midnight.

The next day, Sunday, I went to a kid’s birthday party with my host dad and brother. I think they are friends of the family. My host mom didn’t go because she was ‘ironing clothes.’ I think she just didn’t want to go. There are a few reasons why I don’t like my host mom very much. This was one of them. The party was really interesting. The thing that kind of weirded me out was the clown. I don’t really like clowns to begin with, but he also had his 13 year old son working with him. For some reason I just felt uncomfortable about it. Its so hard to tell ages of people here. This boy looked so much younger than 13! Then one of our newly referred families was there! It was such a coincidence, what a small world. We literally had just spoken with the mom and the girl a few days before about their family problems, and here they were, with the mom’s new boyfriend, at the same birthday party as me.

The next week I spent a lot of time at infa. We started doing a campaign against la mendicidad, which in English means children in the streets begging. I guess you could just call it begging. Its exploitation and against children’s rights, and it gets really bad between now and Christmas time. So in the morning I went to house visits and therapy sessions, and in the afternoon and late evening I went out with staff to start the campaign. We went to different communities and met with the leaders and parents to try and convince them not to send their kids out. First we talk about who we are, what we do, and then we talk about the campaign. And we try to get them to sign the petition. If they sign, I think the next time we come we work with the kids to help teach them their rights, and at the end we bring them candy. I wouldn’t exactly call this successful though.

The first visit, no one was there. Apparently there was bad communication about how we were coming. The second day we went and the people were there, but we were late because of the bus and they were crabby because they hadn’t eaten lunch yet. I mean neither had I! They weren’t too keen on agreeing to our petition either. The people need the money. Begging is actually a huge deal. There are some people that drive buses of kids from the north to the town of Ibarra to beg, and then bus them back. (think, slumdog millionaire). The second day we actually went to two, and the second one went a lot better than the first, but I think they were kind of skeptical. We went back the next day to work with their kids. The community lives down by the lake San Pablo which is gorgeous. I took some pictures of the mountains and the lake, and the cows and sheep that were scooting around. It was absolutely breathtaking. We were there right when the set was setting behind the mountains. Some day soon ill post that on my picasa site. We played with the kids and they really seemed to like us. This has nothing to do with how well the campaign will go though. In Ecuador, todo es posible, nada es seguro-anything is possible, but nothing is for sure. The best part about the campaign I would say is that infa as an organization gets to give a plug for our free services, and at least 2 or 3 people always come up and ask questions about them after we talk or give a presentation. So at least we are getting some advertizing out.

theres another post coming, like i said, please read in order...

sorry i've neglected you....

hello friends, sorry i've been slacking. i try to update weekly, but i am now three or four weeks behind.... and i have much to share.

Monday finally came. After a week of craziness and lack of sleep, I woke up at 5:30 to go to CIMAs to be transported to my internship. I wasn’t actually sure if my host mom was going to drive me, or if I was going to have to hail a cab, but she woke up at the crack of dawn right along with me. All through breakfast I couldn’t believe how sad I was feeling. I was literally choking back the tears when I was eating my papaya. When we got to CIMAs, my host mom hugged me goodbye and to my surprise I finally cried.

my first week started out slow. i got to Otavalo and was 'presented' to my organization, then whisked off to my new home in a neighborhood called san juan. i will not lie to you, i dont know what my street name is. i'm actually pretty convinced there is no name. i live in a three story cement house on a dirt road. my neighbors hold on to our house key. i call them keepers of the key. aparently no one in my family actually knows their names, they just call them 'neighbor'. how reassuring... theyre pretty adorable though and i do have a beautiful view from our roof top. when i arrived my host dad let me nap and left to go back to work. he left his number and told me to call when i was done napping so he could arrange a taxi to bring me into town to see his store. Three hours later i awake from my comatose nap, and i felt kind of guilty so i called and went into town right away.

So I got to the tienda and he told me there was nothing to do. So much for feeling guilty about that 3 hour nap. Then he told me to be at the tienda by quarter to 6, at which point I figured we’d be going home. False, we went to origami class. Class was incredibly amusing for the first hour. The second hour was kind of tiring though; I’m amazed I stayed awake the whole time. This is the point where I decided my host dad and I were going to be friends. He is so goofy. I love that my host parents go to origami class. Its taught by a Korean woman, who I’m pretty sure doesn’t like me… but I love how there is an interest in culture in this small town. Afterwards we climbed in a taxi, picked up my host sibs, and went home. We ate and then I went to bed at 9 pm (don’t think this was special, I go to bed at 9:30 probably everyday except Saturday, voluntarily).

The next day was disheartening. Abby, the other intern at my organization, and I went to infa to begin our first day, but of course nothing was organized. We were told to arrive at 8, but no one actually comes in until 9. Basically nothing got done except a round of 40 (an Ecuadorian card game), and some chatting with the staff. Tito, the lawyer, played us his favorite music off his phone, which consists of Whitney Houston and Men at Work. Gotta love Tito and his style. No one seemed to understand why we were there, even though we had come for an interview a few weeks back. The next day everyone finally got on board when the regional director- Rosario- came for a staff meeting. She handed out our official CIMAs program information and told the staff we were paying them. Yes my friends, I am paying to volunteer. What a great life. It was actually pretty neat because the staff decided to use the money towards something everyone at the center can use, like a digital camera. (Except last week Abby broke the computer, so they might buy one of those instead. In her defense, the thing looked like one of the first computers ever made, but it somehow had windows xp on it. Ecuador never ceases to amaze.)

The week was incredibly short. I arrived on a Monday, had three unproductive days of internship, and then Friday there was Ecuadorian and Otavalean holidays. We actually had a five day weekend, (Friday-Tuesday) because of it. A lot of people from my program decided to go to Montanita, a beach town 12 hours away. This was probably our only chance to travel that far away. Live it up-Vale la pena.

During this trip I realized that there are a lot of things I would not have witnessed through CIMAs if I didn’t do some of my own traveling. We bused from Quito to Manta first, and then bused along the coast to Montanita. Manta was disgusting, and it didn’t help that the day was overcast. It was just muddy, dirty, smelly, and unkept. We saw so much countryside. The south is a different place. Then we arrived in Montanita and there were a lot of newer touristy buildings, which really annoyed me. The place is famous for its chill beach and nightlife, but I get the feeling that the Montanita of the old days was way more legit, and way more of what I would have liked. The town was really small, and consisted of hostels, restaurants/bars, beach, and hippies. There were literally only 4 streets in the town. I don’t even think people live there other than the store owners. We ate repeatedly at a restaurant that served American like food. I admit their pancakes were delicious, but I kept thinking, why did we come all the way here to eat at a tourist joint? Then I realized that tourism was how the town made money, and that there were more toursity restaurants than there were anything else.

The BEST part of my weekend was the second day, we met ANTHONY BOURDAIN from the travel channel!! He made a stop there to try the cheviche before heading to Guayaquil. I guess he was shooting a new show on Ecuador. IT WAS AWESOME. We were secretly hoping that he would stay in town for the night so we could party with him, but sadly he wasn’t to be found.

The next day I took a surfing lesson with Vicky and Brian, which was equally awesome. I actually caught some waves! I stood up on the board and surfed. It was like a dream. My friend took some photos from the beach, so I hope they turn out. I would definitely do it again, and highly recommend. I can’t believe I surfed in the Pacific Ocean.

We came back Tuesday morning to Otavalo but I can’t really remember what happened that week. Its mostly a blur. I actually got to go on house visits with the child psychologist. I sat in on some therapy sessions, and learned about how they do evaluations and such. I really don’t do much in Otavalo during the week. I go to my internship, and then hang out in town until my host fam decides to go home, which is usually 8 pm. I could go home earlier but theres nothing to do there. Then I got to bed, and repeat.

I think this was the week I was out and about with my friends and we ran into a mission group in the market. We were down by the end that sells fake American brands of backpacks, clothes, and electronics, etc. We were both looking at some imitation shoes when they struck up a conversation. My friends and I talked about how much we love the country and they talked about how poor the people are. “Theres so much need here,” I remember one of them saying. We started to walk away and one of them said, ‘I feel uncomfortable leaving this child unattended.’ He was talking about a little toddler whose mom had left for whatever reason. That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. (The mom had just run off to make change with her neighbor; she didn’t actually abandon her child there). Kids are freaking everywhere. This never really surprised or shocked me. That’s when it hit me, the fact that my experience here, however similar, could still be incredibly different from someone else’s. They were only here for a week, doing missions. They saw poverty. I am here for four months. I see diversity, beauty, difficulties, triumphs.

Even though I’m here for four months, I still feel like its not enough time. I’m just getting to know the people and theres so much more to learn. My Spanish has improved, but it still has a long way to go. Now that I’m at my internship, I’m kind of upset with CIMAs for the curriculum we had. We originally had 6 or 7 tracks to pick from for one of the classes, but they minimized it down to 4 tracks. I, along with at least 7 other people, wanted to do the social services track. That’s a third of the people in my program! But we got an email in august saying all the tracks talked about social services, and that we needed to choose a different one. I literally thought I was the only person who wanted to do social services, so I was compliant and picked the education track, even though teaching was not on my agenda. When I found out that so many other people wanted to do social services I was really upset. There are so many resources at my internship about social services, and there is so much material to cover. Now that I am writing my final paper about a social services topic, I have A LOT of reading to catch up on. I would be less angry if the track had at least been more general, and included other material, but it didn’t. I probably won’t use a single piece of information from my general classes here to write my final paper, which is 20 pages.

ay ay ay, ill be posting more in a bit, so please read in order :)