Lost in the middle of the earth

...or something like that, it would seem, by my absence here in the blogging world.

In fact, I'm just loving life here. Circumstances are about the same. I'm different.

I don't have the desire to constantly be in touch with people from the States like I used to--e-mails and blogging was my security blanket, and a way to escape from the troubles here by reminding myself it was temporary. If you think about it, moving abroad for a short period of time is an odd way to live. Everything is just for a time, so the temptation is to not get involved in anything. Anyway. (I still love and miss you all very much!)

It's all rather incredible. Awesome. Amazing. (Fill in other exaggerated American adjectives my friends love to make fun of me for.)

I spent a long time here looking at things I wanted to change...and they were always outside of me. People everywhere...and I spent time wishing they would go away. Noise? I wanted silence. Hungry? I wanted something instant and familiar.

Now I think I can say with Paul I'm learning contentment. He said he had learned to be content with much or little, in hunger or with food, etc. How am I supposed to learn to be content without food if I'm never actually hungry? or thirsty? or exhausted and lonely with no immediate relief? I've been through all of that here. Many a time. It's been such a beautiful challenge! (But trust me, I've pounded my pillow and cried lots of tears and longed of returning home from time to time.)

And now, I'm not sure when I want to leave. I think I'm here indefinitely for now. Yes. I'm putting it out there in the world wide web so people who want to know can know. Sorry I'm not informing you personally, friends. Let's talk about it, though.

I'm happy!

And of course, there are days when I'm sad, but thanks to the community I have here, and the direction life has taken, I can't just wallow in my sadness and throw myself a pity party. Life is vocation. Where am I? why am I sad? What's going on and how am I going to embrace the cross and move forward with it?

In other news, I recently had a marvelous, rather life-changing/life-saving trip to the coast and I celebrated my one-(liturgical)-year anniversary in the Catholic Church (see photos).

I don't really take anything for granted anymore. Life is so much better this way. Nothing and no one is useless. So, here I am, looking to renew my Visa. (And guess what? I still might be coming home in a few months. Ya never know.)

P.S. When I first came back to Quito after Christmas, I had decided to leave April 1 (as in, yesterday). Then, I thought, one month more--leaving in May--would be enough to deepen my friendships and learn a bit more of what this country had to teach me. Then, I decided to work another cycle here and come home June 1. Now, I just laugh about all that nonsense and say: Bah! It's indefinite.

¡Carnaval in Baños!

For those of you whose limited Spanish vocabulary includes the word "baños," don't be mislead. I did not, in fact, spend four days in a bathroom, but rather in a lovely city southwest of Quito. Think "Bath,' like England.

This weekend was too fantastic to condense into a well-written blogpost, so I'm going to let some photos speak a few thousand words for me.

Here's the view of Baños. From a small field with this lovely vista, we sang songs and talked for a bit. An energetic nun led us in a few activities.

With one of my dearest friends and a new friend.

I'm becoming a percussion expert thanks to my new friends.

We went to Chimborazo! 5,000 METERS!

We went to an amazing waterfall and got to go behind it--getting refreshingly drenched with the powerful cascade.

This is what Carnaval looks like! Water and flour and silly string and more. All's fair in this war.

We sang and played coastal songs. And, last but not least...I danced the mapalé. This is a crazy coastal dance originally brought to Colombia by slaves from Guinea. I was jokingly dancing around to a drumbeat when my friends observed my apparently legit moves and invited me to take part in their surprise dance number after one of the evening meetings. Definitely an unforgettable experience for all of us! So unforgettable I'm not sure I'm going to live it down.

I'm going to be really sad to leave these friends when I return to the States. But, all things are beautiful in their time.

 

On the last day in Baños, there was an entire meeting of mockery, paying tribute to the experiences of each of the four days--people imitated the songs, the presentations and...our dance.

On being content in this inconvenient life

I´m definitely trying. And being mostly successful. Read on.

Saturday evening was really interesting. Some friends and I got together with a man who runs his own company (cooking oil production, which is a big industry in Ecuador) to discuss his business, his ideas on economics and, to make a long story short, who he was voting for in the upcoming presidential elections here. I appreciated the fact that he scrutizined the candidates´ positions on education: none of which appear to have grand plans in that area, unfortunately. There are some who want to continue increasing the government, until it´s a father to us all--rather what the US seems to be trying. There are others, thankfully, who´d rather let people live freely but well. As the current president is pals with Hugo Chávez, I don´t have a lot of confidence in him. He has built a lot of great roads though. Most think he´ll be re-elected.

Back to contentedness. After spending that evening in a beautiful home in the valley (the first house I´ve been in since arriving), on the way back to the city I had a great conversation with a new acquaintance. He was from here but had traveled to Argentina, Chile, and Italy. After having gone to countries with more stable economies and politics and more convenience, you´d think he might have returned discontent to his own country.

Here in Ecuador, life is fairly inconvenient and sometimes irritating, as I´m sure I´ve described in full. For example: getting anywhere takes forever.

Work is a twenty-minute walk away (which is incredibly close by local standards!). Getting north in the city to see people takes 25 minutes on a usually crowded metro bus. Getting to another friend´s house is a 20-minute walk (or 10 minute bus ride) and then a packed, 20 minutes on the Ecovía (another trolley/bus line). If I want to buy something, it´s not only finding the right store (Wal-Mart and Target do not exist here) but getting there, being safe, and then returning home with the purchases, which hopefully don´t weigh too much.

Nothing is open 24-7. If you need/want groceries or some necessity, chances are you might not get them immediately. Just to leave my apartment building takes a few minutes: locking the door, going down three flights of stairs, unlocking yet another big door to leave. All things that are unfamiliar to me and time-consuming.

If I want to eat something, I either make it myself or eat at a restaraunt that may or may not have everything on its menu. No microwave. No dryer. I don´t drink the tap water.

And right now, it´s raining which makes me very happy because it dampens (..literally) the sounds of the city. But, my dilemma: I have to get to work. Taxi? Stand and wait for a bus in the rain, then walk more in the rain? Just plain walk to work and arrive soaked? I might just do that. Unless, of course, it lets up. I´m going to wait and see. I was going to go grocery shopping but now I´ll wait inside, listening to Jon Foreman and writing my blog.

Which brings me to my next point: desire. There´s much to desire when one lives in Quito. All of the aforementioned things and more, perhaps. Why do I sometimes consider living here? why did the guy with whom I spoke say he wouldn´t permanently live anywhere else?

Because anywhere else is too convenient. There´s nothing to desire. Everything is a drive, a phone call, a credit card swipe away in the States (of course, sometimes I really miss that!)

In the dear US of A, I can get distracted from the most profound and basic human desires: love, interior peace, eternity--the longings that make our souls uncomfortable here in time. (Don´t you ever feel like your soul is just squirming...for the lack of a better word? It´s kind of unnerving.)  When something like that strikes me, I could easily fulfill it with some quick solution, material or otherwise: a nearby friend, a chat with a family member, a tasty snack on hand, shopping, a nice drive in my car, or plain old physical comfort, and peace and quiet. All of those things are good. But, they´re temporary. And I think I can sometimes trick myself into thinking that´s all I´ve got and all I need.

Here, you can´t escape desire! So what stands out to me are the moments I do feel fulfilled: moments of soul-sharing with friends, of natural beauty, in the sacraments, in prayer and meditation, when I get to the root of something that´s troubling me and resolve or just embrace it, when I realize the value of my family and friends around the world, and when I realize my own value as a beloved creature. The basic wordly desires bring me to what my heart is actually longing for.

It got me thinking of the things I love: being up before the sunrise, reading great literature, natural beauty, great conversations with friends, delicious meals shared with loved ones.

I love being up before the sunrise, so I can hear the birds, watch the sky change and the clouds clear: once the sun is up, I´m almost disappointed. The sunrise is always different, yet the sun always rises in the same way. The desire is beautiful! The thing awaited is the almost monotonous.
I like long books so I don´t reach the end too quickly: I love the desire of getting there, the journey.
When I´m somewhere naturally beautiful, I don´t want to leave, I want to look at it forever, live there. But, go I must, so I enjoy the fleeting moment.
Moments of peace like meals and conversations always end--they´re beautiful in their time.

If I saw this every day, would it be as amazing?

The glorious moments of beauty, peace, and love burn just a little bit: they´re stretching my heart and imagination and soul ever so slightly, so the next time, I can appreciate better the brief joys. It´s like a fire: the more you add, the more brilliantly it burns, and the more fuel it needs.

So, in short: I´d like a car to drive to work right now. It´s still raining. But, I don´t have one. Just the desire for one. When I eventually get back to mine in the States, I´m going to love it--and for now I´m content with my car-desire.

Making volcanoes out of molehills

Okay. I've learned two things recently. One: there isn't much that can beat a birthday celebration on top of one of the world's largest active volcanoes. Two: I've been more anxious than I need to be. (Perhaps for most of my life, but certainly, at least while I've been here. More to come on that later.) Anyway, I'm going to get over the darn molehills that bother me and enjoy the volcanoes that surround me in this beautiful, diverse country...so, obviously I sometimes run short of ideas for titles and throw something together that rivals my brother´s puns.

On Top of the World

On my 23rd birthday. LEGIT. I woke up early, and headed south to Cotopaxi. Two friends--former students--planned the trip specifically for my birthday, and the wife and brother of one of them joined us.

Cotopaxi is in a national park. Foreigners have to pay to get into national parks. Some, such as the Galapagos Islands, are really expensive. There would have been a small fee for me at Cotopaxi, but thanks to my friends, I didn´t pay a cent. We were stretching our legs at the entrance, looking at a map when I heard a ranger ask my friends if I was with them. Without a second thought, the one said "Yes, that´s his wife." And voila! Free entrance. We laughed half the way up the volcano.

For much of the climb, we didn´t see a thing: we literally walked through clouds. The wind was vicious. And without much oxygen to breathe, my heart was pounding. We kept ourselves alive with lollipops and chocolate to provide some sugar and energy. Yum.

After a blustery hour or so, we got to the first refuge and rested a bit, hoping the weather would clear to so we could hike higher to reach the snow. Inside the 40-year old, wooden cabin, we just happened to meet Ivan Vallejo, Ecuador´s most famous climber and one of the world´s foremost, apparently. (Just checked his bio--he´s precisely three years younger than my dad!) He was kind enough to interrupt his lunch, introduce himself to us, and take a photo. Then, after a few more minutes of resting, watching our breath fog up the air, we headed back out to hike farther up and try our luck at seeing the snow and the peak.

We wandered up in the fog, stumbling on the brick red, volcanic stones and hoping to see something more than gray. We found a tiny patch of snow, and I contented myself with throwing a snowball and making a miniature snowman, at about 5 inches tall. We sat for a while longer, just hoping the clouds would blow away.

And, then--the best birthday gift ever--they did!

We got a glimpse that just 200 yards away, there was plenty of snow and then--miracle of miracles--the clouds cleared to reveal a stunning view of the peak! It was amazing.

Check out the photos!

I was almost too tired to tromp up any higher, but with the glorious snow as motivation, we pressed on. There was a perfect patch, that run down the side of the volcano a ways. We slid down it and I about passed out at the end. Crouching, zooming down snow using your feet for a sled, then abruptly standing up at about 20,000 feet will do that to ya. So awesome.

We made the long trek down, enjoying a view of the valley the entire way. We had a typical meal of hornado--a whole pig that gets chucked in the oven for hours, it´s skin gets crispy and the meat is tender--and finally arrived to Quito. We joked about the freshness of the smog, greeting our nostrils and lungs. At least I can laugh about it sometimes.

That night, I had dinner with friends from the movement. We sang songs, enjoyed gluten-free desserts and plenty of conversation. I was sun and wind burnt but deliriously happy and tired and full. My favorite Italian priest told me my 24th birthday would be celebrated in Florence, no doubt. He has great hopes of me learning Italian and moving there, etc. He has to return to Italy just a month after I leave Quito. He´s been here for twenty-eight years! I´ve realized that I, like him, will be sad to go. 

I want to shout that from the top of Cotopaxi. Quito and I have had our rough moments. My stomach is rarely content here, but my heart has been stretched and grown and shown new beauty: friendships from around the world, God´s grace in other languages, Christ in people from cultures quite unlike my own. Our Lady has brought me to her Son time and again.

I´ve been miserable sometimes because of my own worry. When things are out of my control, I´ve got to let them be out of my control. Giving up burdens that aren´t my own is a freeing experience. Life here has often thrown me for a loop, and I´ve reacted by trying to get it all organized under my own power. Ha. As if that would work. There are plenty of real concerns here, but I´ve adopted plenty that have only made life more challenging. A lot of it has to do with time: when is my own time and space going to be available, will all of my time be taken up in transportation, with friends, with being ill, with trying to repair my darn computer, with who knows what? Yeah, maybe it will! Maybe you won´t have anytime to yourself, Juliann. Deal with it. And so, I shall. 

Life is our vocation. And my life has me in Quito, Ecuador right now. With the ever-nearing departure looming on this equatorial horizon, I´m ready to enjoy each moment left! Yet another lesson I could have learned sooner. But, this is life, boys and girls.