On the brevity and beauty of life..and the beach

Shoot, I'm one day late! Therefore, this post will be hurriedly written--apologies for the scatter-brained manner in which I shall write.

I've been keeping up the routine of getting out of Quito on the weekends and this time it was a little trip to the beach with some friends! (the same people with whom I ran the 10K)

With Jillian, Luis, and Pablo--on our way to la Isla del Amor! (Thanks to Jillian, for the photo)
There are more on Facebook.

We had planned to go to Isla de la Plata--an island in the Pacific (the poor man's Galapagos)--but, of course, bus tickets were sold out. Therefore, we piled into a friend's car at midnight and drove the six hours on mountainous roads to the beach at Pedernales, which is the nearest beach. It was wonderfully refreshing to leave behind the bus exhaust and constant honking and whistles and lesson planning for a brief break. I loved strolling barefoot on the sand with nothing to hear but the salty wind and constant waves! We played Risk, napped on the beach, ate great seafood and bolónes (fried balls of mashed green plaintain with cheese, veggies and/or seafood inside) etc. Aside from the lack of sleep Friday night (the roads here make me so miserably sick to my stomach) it was a swell weekend!

Teaching is continuing to go well, and I hope I am improving. Because it is all new to me, I'm learning as I go--and all of my ideas for improvement are in retrospect. For the students' sake, I wish I were perfect...but, they seem happy enough. And as I literally just finished grading their exams today, I am pleased to say the class averages are not too shabby. Still, in the next cycle of teaching, I know I will be better prepared!

I am getting accustomed to my daily schedule and I so enjoy having time to organize my life, shop for food, cook said food, have friends over for movies, meals, and games, carve out time for reading, and especially, for daily Mass. The church I found last week, Iglesia de Santo Tomás Aquino, has Mass in the mornings at 7 and 8. I am so glad! Today I calculated the walk: it takes about 15 minutes to get there at a rapid pace and 10 or 12 to get back. It's a drastic uphill climb there, so I arrive fairly winded. It's worth every step, though. And every day I challenge myself physically at this altitude is a small victory--I cannot wait to run back at sea level! It's going to be the easiest thing ever.

I haven't been here for quite a month...and yet, I feel grounded and well-connected. Amidst the myriad blessings like that, I can't help but remember my utter transience. I mean in both the grand scheme of things, of course, and in my time in Ecuador. We're but a mist, and here in Quito, I'm like a molecule of a droplet of mist. I'm only spending one brief year of my life here! (As far as I know, of course. Everyone does say "but what if you fall in love?"...not planning on it, people. I am going to be 100% rational all of the time...ha. ha.)

If I get too caught up thinking about the brevity of life--I can be robotic and rational, surprise, surprise--I question the value of making friends, investing myself here, etc. Then, I realize I'm an imbecile...and I immediately invite people over to my house to feed them delicious food and continue cultivating our relationships. Each day is an opportunity to strive toward perfecting myself to God's glory and to the greater, purer enjoyment of this life. If the friends I make and the situations I face aid me in that--wonderful! And more than viewing them as mere opportunities to better myself, each person is a marvelous creation and adds a facet of the Creator's beauty to my life. I only hope I can pour out some love into their lives.

Maybe I will share a lot of myself with friends here. Maybe I will learn a great deal about their joys, sorrows, and aspirations. And maybe we will be in contact for only 1/80 of my life--but if we share just a bit of life's truth, beauty, and goodness, then that one-eightieth is of infinite value.


And now, off I go to talk with twelve souls about the good, the true, the beautiful, and English!


Also, I wish this made as much sense as I wanted it to. Alas, make of it what you will.

Teacher runs a 10K

As per usual, I have a few more details to report--most of which are fairly trivial and, I hope, entertaining.

This 10K was an absolutely spontaneous decision--I had several friends over on Saturday for a delicious Indian lunch, with spices provided by our token Indian, Debbie, followed by some bi-lingual games. Well, we ate and ate and drank and played hilarious word games...up until about an hour before the race. Then we discovered two of us had already been planning on participating, and of course, why didn't the other six join in as well? Sometimes, the all-for-one, one-for-all mentality is awesome. I don't think I had run in about three or four weeks time, and never at this altitude. I was up for something radically new! but was my body? That remained to be seen...

It was called la Carrera de las Iglesias (literally, Run of the Churches). Its path wound about through Quito and its historic center, passing by ten beautiful old churches. We ran on cobblestone, up sandy inclines and down winding passageways, on main roads, and my favorite scenes--the open plazas, strung with lights, allowing for a lovely glimpse of each church. It was a stunning sight to see the 12,000+ runners jogging through the city. Along the way, there were many people holding encouraging signs, even local musicians and percussion bands to cheer us onward.

Post-race photo: Jillian, me, Pablo, Luis, and Ruben. ¡Los campeones! 

I literally don't know how I made it. As each kilometer mark passed, I wondered how much longer I would continue. I had begun with the hopes of just running part of it then taking a cab home (I stuck a dollar coin in my shoe just in case). Little did I know my lungs were ready to make use of what little oxygen is in the air and get me from 0 to 10K. It was some quality time with new friends (I have been absolutely blessed with friendship here) and such a unique memory! And what a thrill to successfully complete it! After the race, we went to the historic center again--this time showered and ready to enjoy the evening--and had dinner in La Ronda. That part of Quito looks so much like Spain: I really love to reminisce while strolling on the curving cobblestone roads, seeing white-washed buildings, and planters over-flowing with red flowers hanging from the windows: it reminds me very much of Granada. (Unfortunately, later that night I felt tremendously ill, though I think it was pretty understandable following the run. I wondered if I had eaten something bad or was coming down with the flu, but lo and behold, I'm perfectly well now. My health has been another great blessing: not one big issue in this transition period, despite my culinary adventures!)


Tuesday, August 14th, was my first day as an English teacher. With five days down and many, many to go, I am feeling alright. Today captured quite an array of emotions: just this morning I told a friend I was ready to leave Ecuador (I was feeling incredibly unprepared). This evening, I was back to rejoicing I was here and I can honestly say I look forward to lesson planning and teaching English. There will be hard days, I will make mistakes, I will (and have already) embarrassed myself. I won't always know answers to questions. Teaching is going to be great for the ol' humility factor. I realize my greatest fear is that the students will be bored, yet I have at my fingertips so many sources of information. I need to put in the effort and prepare a fun and effective class! My plan is simple: be kind, engaging, and instructive.

I am so pleased to say the whole "being kind" goal is rather succeeding (maybe humility isn't?). Today, a girl told me "Teacher...you are sweet" and proceeded to compare me to other "rude," or "strict" teachers. I was blown away! Previously, I had found this particular student to be one of the few that was a bit intimidating: pretty sassy, only speaking up when she wanted, chit-chatting in Spanish, etc. I sometimes felt like she was laughing at me, but I just shrugged it off and kept a smile on my face. I tried to put myself in her place: frustrated with a new language, in a class with friends, etc. And so apparently, I'm doing okay. I'm extremely surprised. It's also a funny coincidence because I expected her and other students to consider me strict: when I hear Spanish spoken, I look at the culprit with a grin, but a fairly stern eye, just letting them know it's not acceptable. I've even sent one of the class clowns to sit in the corner for being a habitual offender! I have told them that it's for their benefit I don't allow Spanish--I guess they believe me. I do hope their grades reflect it, as well.

No Spanish allowed, and no calling me "Teacher." "It's the custom!" they always say. I remind them daily that it is not the custom in English to address one's teacher as such. If and when they do it, I say "student, student!" or muse aloud "Hmm, I wonder who so-and-so is talking to..." so they laugh and call me Juliann...or some variation of my name: it's a tricky one for Spanish-speakers. I've about cured them of calling me "teacher," I do believe.

My confidence certainly wavers, but over all, it's mostly a pleasant experience. I look forward to (oh look, a phrasal verb!) the day when it comes second-nature, and I can waltz into class ready to make them laugh and truly learn English well.

So, on the occupational side of things, I'm hoping to become more comfortable. Socially, I'm ridiculously happy about my new friendships. There exist chivalrous men, and kind women, and good, solid conversation--chévere! I've spent a good deal of time with a certain group of friends that include myself and my friend, Jillian. And boy, is it difficult to know who Ecuadorians are talking to: Juliann or Jillian. So, when we're all together, they've taken to calling me Celeste! (sounds like "cell-és-tay") I love it. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for giving me a middle name that means the color of my eyes in Spanish.

In other news, I am blending in a bit more here..though I'm as stubbornly blonde and blue-eyed as ever. How, you ask? Saldo. People tend not to use cell phone plans here, and instead purchase texting and phone minutes whenever they need it. More often than not, people are out of saldo. And, so am I, currently. For the second time. In two weeks. It's rather annoying, but it just becomes a joke. Whoever has saldo calls those who don't, you use your friend's phone to send a message, etc. Silly and lovably organized in latino fashion.

Out for a Colombian breakfast with Debbie and Jillian this morning!

My cup overfloweth. To further beautify my already splendid life, I found a more vibrant, and wonderfully traditional, parish within a 20-minute walk from home: St. Thomas Aquinas Church. The priest is from Spain (I confess, I miss the accent. And, here I've been told I have a Spanish accent! I'm torn between abandoning it and keeping it going..vamo' a ver.) I do hope to join the somewhat feeble choir at the church and perhaps boost its volume while forming new friendships.

Life is beautiful!

And, man, I really need to stretch.


Now, for just a touch of TEFL humor, I conclude with the following quotes:

(After listening to Coldplay's "Fix You") "Ignite your bones? What means that?" 

"How do you say "quieres casarte conmigo?" (Will you marry me?)

What are mistakes? "Mistakes are mistakes."

"Succeed...sexy!" Okay, but what does "succeed" mean? "Succeed is sexy." (They were overjoyed by how similar the words sounded.)

"I am deceptionated."

Go big or go home.

Day 1: Drink water from the tap.
Day 2: Eat food from a marketplace vendor.
Day 9: Camp by the side of a lake in the crater of a volcano. Wake up at 3 AM to hike about 11 kilometers at almost 14,000 ft.
Day 10: Eat a chicken's heart.

I'm tired. But happy and healthy.

My experiences here thus far have been phenomenal. I have met so many great people, experienced many things in the city--food, shopping, night life, long lines to deal with government papers and more--and most recently an amazing hike as well as an orientation meeting for my job, the reason I actually came here in the first place. I need to remind myself I'm not just here to bop around South America.

I really think I'll enjoy working at CEC (Centro de Educación Contínua). At my orientation meeting, I was happy to hit it off with a couple of the new professors. It's so nice to be abroad as a functioning human being, not just seeking diversion all the time. I say, bring on the work. I mean, I think so. Here's hoping I can make the transition from being the student in a desk to the teacher in front of the class in so brief a time as three months. 

Quilotoa

The hike. What a hike. I left Friday afternoon with Luke and Luis, took an hour trolley ride, followed by two 1.5 hour bus rides. The second bus ride was particularly unique, as Luke and I were the only gringos, and many of the bus's occupants seemed as if to come from a different age: in their manner of clothing as well as cleanliness. The indigenous people are fascinating here. And it's incredible to be able to finally hear Quecha spoken, since I first heard of it almost a decade ago in the book Beyond the Gates of Splendor, which my Dad read to Valerie and me. There was even a bird in a man's lap, just as anxious to get off the bus as we were. I wonder if it was his pet or his dinner.

At Quilotoa, we met up with several other people and began the trek down the crater to the lakeside to camp for the evening. It took over an hour to hike down the steep, sandy path--the whole way down, I was thinking about how challenging it would be to get back up. You could actually hire mules to go down and up the crater for eight dollars, and the local people would lead them. We didn't make use of that, though I did try other methods for going down the path, like trotting the way the locals do. Men and women (in absurdly non-hiking shoes) literally trotted down the sandy path with reins in hand, leading the mules burdened with Ecuadorians, gringos, and other foreigners. It was fascinating! It's a lot less effort to just jog down, since your muscles don't have to work to slow your momentum. This came in handy on the path as well as when we went around the lake in the wee hours of the morning.

That night, our group eventually totaled nine people--seven guys, and another girl from the US and me. In all we were three gringos, one Venezuelan, and five Ecuadorians. We spent the evening building a campfire, gathering all sorts of sticks and wood (borrowing some from a fence nearby...) and eventually just chatting, roasting hot dogs for dinner, and watching the stars come out. It was amazing to see a new night sky--to think of all the stars in view that I had never, ever seen before! Because we had created such a toasty fire, some others who were camping stopped by to get some of our fire to light their own, and two other men stopped by to enjoy the warmth. I do so enjoy the easy social interactions among this culture. It was not at all odd when we ended up chatting with the newcomers for over an hour. They loved to travel and were definitely aware of the world outside of Quito. That's not always common here.

In our hunt for wood, we stopped by the meagre hostal to inquire about their wood supply. It was no better than what we had found, so we thanked the man for showing us what was available and said we'd find our own. Though we had already gathered some, he informed us that it was impossible to find. We again assured him we had already met with success, and he again told us there was none to be found...the stubborn determinedness (is that a word?) bordering on dishonesty isn't uncommon here. It's a cultural idiosyncrasy which one just has to put up with.

There is a worldview I have met with often in my travels: that traveling is one of the very few ways to learn about oneself, others, and the wide world surrounding us. I certainly disagree though I have done my fair share of traveling. In Spain, some of my professors and fellow students maintained there was no other way to broaden one's horizon. The men who stopped by the fire at Quilotoa, who had both gained much in their various travel experiences, said the same. What about books? What about conversing with a family member or close friend and fostering good, challenging relationships? You may be just as close-minded after traveling as before, even if you do have a few more stamps on your passport.

Hemingway, no stranger to travel said, through a character in The Sun Also Rises "Listen...going to another country doesn't make any difference. I've tried all that. You can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another. There's nothing to that."

And of course, in Ecclesiastes, a book which rather out-dates Hemingway, we find that there is 'nothing new under the sun.'

I love to befriend fellow travelers and foreigners living abroad, but I don't look down on the people who are happy to stay at home, while traveling miles and miles through a book or adventuring with good, solid thoughts and open conversation.


After a full evening, it was time to turn in. We concocted the crazy plan of waking a little after three in the morning to begin our hike, so as to see the sun rise from a certain high point on the eastern rim. Jillian and I got our own tent, set out our sleeping bags and tried to sleep. Within five minutes there was snoring from the guys' tent...and several hours later, after I hadn't slept at all, I couldn't lie still anymore and decide to watch the stars. It was two-thirty in the morning when I hopped outside of the tent, plopped down on the ground in my sleeping bag, and counted shooting stars--over ten in about twenty minutes! What a beautiful sky! Jillian couldn't sleep either and joined me: and so we sat in the moonlit night, counting stars and whispering and laughing, just waiting until we would pack up the campsite and begin the day's trek.

It was as grueling as a sandy, uphill path would be at 14,000 feet at four in the morning. We made it up though, and began the walk around the crater's rim. It was an absolutely fantastic hike, and without a doubt the most challenging of my life. Of all my muscles, my heart was probably the most strained. Nine days is not enough to adjust the altitude of Quito, let alone the altitude up in the volcano. Nevertheless, I made it without much altitude sickness...though halfway through I did have a headache. On two apples and water I made the journey (the other food we had was all chock-full of gluten). I must admit I'm rather proud of myself and I can't wait to hike again.

We got done around ten AM. I was the last to arrive, thought I started out near the front of the pack: first of all, because it was exhausting, but I also waited in the back so I could enjoy some of the walk alone. It was breathtakingly beautiful and I only wish I had a camera to capture some of it, but now you'll just have to come visit me so you can experience it for yourself.

Before leaving, I needed some more nourishment and ordered a soup from a "restaurant." (The soup was a dollar and the much-needed coffee, seventy-five cents. The restaurants and hostals at Quilotoa are the upstairs of people's homes. Going downstairs to the bathroom led you right into their own hallway of bedrooms. It was an odd sensation, as if we were invading their home...which was precisely what we were doing. But, we got food and a warm fire anyway.) My soup was tasty, with a chicken leg, rice, carrot, and yucca, but when I fished around with the spoon, I came upon an unusual little piece of meat. Two new Ecuadorian friends assured me that yes indeed, it was a heart. Well, with a bit of their encouragement, I ate it. It tasted like chicken, surprise, surprise...but it was really, really dense. It was like anatomy class in high school...except lunch. Next up in my culinary adventures? Cuy.

Yes, that's guinea pig. Stay tuned.


In other news, I had my first teacher's meeting today and tomorrow, my first day of classes! Time to prepare a bit...I will teach a couple sections of Advanced 2 English and co-teach a Conversation Club class. When I myself understand what that entails, I'll let you all know.

First photos

I finally figured out how to get photos off my iPhone. I bought an unlocked/jailbroken one to take here, tossed a Movistar SIM card in it, and voila! WiFi wherever it can be found, photo-taking abilities, and calls/texts to nuevos amigos.

My bed was such a welcome sight upon arriving.

The view when I walk out my door is incredible.

Sitting in the living room, to my right is a TV, behind is the front door, and
ahead, as shown, the kitchen. Bedrooms to the left.

The nearest church, which I've attended a handful of times.  San Francisco de Asis.

My bag earned a sticker.

Here I am with a few new acquaintances after the barbecue I mentioned.
We were playing a game of ring toss. My roommate Angie is on the far left.

More photos on Facebook. Click here.

Quito: An introduction

It's just Monday afternoon and I arrived here Thursday night. Somehow I feel as if I've been here forever, and yet everything is new. It's an odd sensation, but not at all unpleasant. Thanks to Luke, my connection here in Ecuador, I've met many people and have already spent hours (and hours) getting to know them. More to come on that.

I'm currently sitting here on the floor in the corner of my bedroom, borrowing the Internet from my kind neighbor, the Universidad Central de Ecuador. My apartment is great and my roommate Angie and I seem to get along quite well. 

I have a cozy room with space for a twin bed, a dresser, and a night stand. I'm infusing my personality into it too, through photos, art, books etc. I've noticed people do not personalize their living spaces here. Which I find somewhat unusual. My favorite aspect of my room is the view from the window: I look out onto some mountains! And exiting the front door is even better--three peaks are visible, two of which are volcanoes (I think), covered in snow!

I stick out like a sore thumb here, of course. Especially in my neighborhood. But, I don't mind too much. Although I am rather conspicuous, I don't feel particularly unsafe in the area. Quito is not a city to mess with though, so I don't plan on pulling any stunts like walking alone in the wee hours of the morning like I just may have done in Sevilla.

I'm rather far away from the shores of Lake Superior.

Saturday I went to a barbecue with people involved in Campus Crusade here in Quito. Following my attempt to eat an enormous plate of different types of meat and a strange ear of corn, several of us decided to walk around and maybe see a concert in the city's historic district. That expedition turned into an hours-long journey. I got to the barbecue at one in the afternoon, I believe, and went home at a little before nine at night. Eight hours is quite a long time. As I told Luis, a new friend, I don't think I'll get used to that sort of socialization. He said I will probably catch the same contagious social 'bug' that people seem to get here and gladly spend hours upon hours with others. I remain doubtful. My introverted side protests.

My favorite spot so far has been the mercado de Santa Clara, just a few minutes' walk from my house. I dropped by there this morning and got a freshly blended juice made solely from alfalfa, blackberry, and carrot. For $1.25! This is way better than a Naked juice and a quarter of the price. Delightful. Then I picked up fruits and vegetables and made a great salad for lunch. Gluten-free living here isn't going to be hard, the only actual challenge is explaining to people why I won't eat bread, pizza, pasta, buñuelos, etc. The words rye and barley didn't often come up in my Spanish classes.

Culturally, it's what I expected. It reminds me much of Sevilla (beware, generalizations ahead): lack of chivalry, the sexualization of everyone and everything, the surprising kindness and friendliness of some people, and the shocking creepiness of others. It's a very speech-oriented culture. Books, even signage, don't get much attention. (Possibly influenced by indigenous peoples, whose languages were only written down within the last few decades.) Why read for yourself if you can ask someone for directions, for what time the bus leaves, etc? It's very different from the States, of course. There's something nice about using other people as resources and relying on one another to get things done, but the inefficiency that arises is not as enjoyable. Being alone is often seen as negative, too. I do beg to differ.

So, all cultures have strengths and flaws when compared with others. I'm currently examining a flaw. My ol' motto "People are people, too" almost doesn't apply here. (And by that motto I mean: the myriad thoughts, emotions, decisions running through your head are just as abundant in the minds of those you pass on the street, or who serve you in the check-out line, or who tailgate you on the highway. We are all souls endowed with reason and passion, no matter the ratio in which we exercise them.) Back to what I meant to say...People here are seen more as--pardon the expression--'pieces of meat' than living, breathing, human beings. And lest you think I stand alone on the soap box, the phrase came from a conversation with Luke, who certainly has much more experience here. And so, if we see others purely from a physical standpoint, what are we but material things? The way we treat ourselves has a direct influence on the way we treat others. How much of life are we missing out on if we are tossed about by waves of passion and emotion, doing things on a whim, justifying ourselves because what we want to do brings momentary pleasure? Acting solely from an emotional and physical standpoint, life isn't abundant, it's messy and full of tears, highs and lows, infidelity and instability. It's like spoiled childhood. Who wants that? Let's let reason govern us too, for goodness' sake (literally).

Yet, there is something healthy within the physicality of the culture. The body is a good thing. And here it is recognized as such (though the recognition can border on obsession). In America, I rather think we are prone to hate our bodies and things physical. (Blame it on the Puritans or Hollywood, or both). Friday night, I heard a story about a Venezuelan telling an American girl, who had eaten a good deal over Christmas break, that she was looking a little chubby (gordita, which is in the diminutive, i.e. not insulting). That is in no way an unkind thing to say here, in fact, it means you look healthy and well-nourished. The poor girl cried and stayed in her house for a week. What are we telling ourselves in the States? That the number on the scale is inversely proportional to your worth as a person? Good grief. The dichotomy between the healthier view of the body and its irrational use for pleasure is a case for further study.

Blah blah blah.

I conclude by saying I really do love it here! It's refreshing for me to realize I am an adult woman from the United States and I can do what I want, and decide to fit into the culture to the extent I so choose (see how I've rather shaped it into a mantra?). In the past, my absolute immersion into cultures found me in some limbo between American and foreigner, without a grasp on what I wanted, or ought, to do. This will be a totally different experience.

I found a church right down the street and have been to two Masses. I can't wait to explore the many others. The bells of the nearby church ring to the tune of a song I sang in St. Anthony's! The first morning I heard that I was over-joyed.

Time to go, until next week, my friends.

¡Saludos desde Quito!

QUITO, Ecuador--I'm snug in my room and a bit overwhelmed, but all is well. Except for the small fact that my checked bag didn't want to leave the States and stayed in Miami alone. It will arrive tomorrow night, apparently. What would a trip be without a slight mishap?

I'm pretty sure I'm going to like it here.

So, I'm moving to the equator tomorrow?

I'm pausing during my last-minute packing adjustments to post one final entry, state-side.

Tomorrow evening I will arrive in Quito, Ecuador. At 9,350 feet above sea level, it's the world's highest capital city. And its population is just about two-and-a-half million people.

Now for the actual stuff of blogs that you don't find on Wikipedia:

Preparation for this "trip" has been interesting. What does one take for a year-long adventure? I'll be teaching English, walking around a city, being social in the city, heading to the coast, hiking about the Andes etc etc...as you can see, it's quite a varied array of weather. I've mostly just thrown my worldly belongings into a suitcase and zipped it shut. Hope it all works out.

I've received much advice for this trip. Among my favorite bits are: dying my hair brown, carrying a gun, carrying a knife, wearing a hat all day, every day ("like they do down there" apparently), carrying a can of pepper spray, wearing sunglasses and ugly clothing, being safe, safe, safe, and good.

And the winner is, the most reasonable: Oh, that sounds like a great trip. Have so much fun! Climb a mountain!

How refreshing to hear enthusiasm instead of worry! But I know, I know, it's worry borne of concern...or something. Be concerned about how much fun I'm going to have, people. (Mostly kidding.) But seriously, that part of the brain that calculates risk and such, which is supposed to develop around this point of my life, yeah, I think it's on its way. I'm feeling fairly confident in my ability to make prudent choices while living a rather enjoyable life.

Climb a mountain? Indeed, I plan to.

Dear friends, write to me often and pray for me oftener.

P.S. Random fact of the day: I leave for Ecuador exactly one year after my return from Spain. Unusual coincidence.