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.

It´s twenty-thirteen

...and I´m almost 23. On Saturday, I will complete my twenty-third year of life. That´s wild. I know it´s young in the scheme of things, but it´s 100% of my life...so it feels like sort of a long time. And, I´m nearing a quarter of a century. Weird. I clearly remember turning thirteen. A decade ago.

In another news, this will officially be my last cycle here at CEC! It´s bittersweet. Some days, mostly sweet. Though there are times I realize the many things I will miss: good friendships, teaching--I think--, the wide variety of things to do in the city, the volcanoes, pescado encocado, batidos de coco, etc. And the view from Guapulo, the winding, stone streets there, and Quito´s cool neighborhood: la Floresta. Oh, and mercado Santa Clara.

Let´s see, what else...Things I won´t miss: I got super sick again on Friday and just sat around moping...I mean, recovering, over the weekend. It was such a super welcome back to Ecuador after Christmas break...I almost bought a ticket home on Saturday afternoon. Five days after getting back.

But, vacation was wonderful! Michigan was every bit as beautiful as I had dreamed, and midnight Mass at Christmas was a totally new, glorious experience this year. New Year´s was fun with friends from Hillsdale. It was worth the quick trip downstate. And I had missed driving, anyway.

Back to Quito. In my free time, I´ve been doing some number crunching, and the stats on my life thus far helped me understand why I´m feeling utterly rootless at this point. In the last two years, I´ve lived on a different continent every six months! Blech.

2011--Seville, then Hillsdale
2012--Hillsdale, Marquette, then Quito
2013--Quito...then Marquette/Michigan/Midwest, as far as I can tell. At least for a while.

When I´ve told people this is my last cycle--even students I´ve just met--I get the "ooooooh"-sad face combo. When it comes from the people I´ve known for some time, it´s a sweet reminder that I´ll be missed. This is either selfish on my part or evidence that I´m not always sure when I´m valued. Most likely both. I´m genuinely surprised at times. It also shows me the genuine friendships I´ve discovered here. Then I think, "oh gosh, maybe I could stay longer." But...

NOPE.

I´m peacin´ out of here, and I know it´s for the best. And in the remaining two months, I´m determined to enjoy all I can of this country!

I don´t have much else to say for myself. I hope this is a swell year. And I´m glad it´s starting off here: there´s no doubt I´ll better appreciate the US because of it, as well as have fond memories of my Ecuadorian life--walking the line.

And I still have to go to the actual equator, anyway. And see more of this stunning country.

So much to do, so little time!

5 months down

A few to go. Just how many remains to be seen...

And without further ado, here´s my last blog post from Quito for the next three-and-a-half weeks.

At the end of last cycle, I got horribly sick. I had the flu and got so congested. I even woke up and had trouble breathing one night. Well, I would hate to be inconsistent! This cycle nearing the end and yet again, I find myself quite ill. This time, it´s not my respiratory system that´s failing me, but rather my digestive system. A few days ago, eating anything at all nearly killed me. My stomach would cramp every few minutes and I´d have such nausea. And I got a fever. And a headache. I was on an all-rice diet (which is the typical Ecuadorian thing anyway, but I didn´t even vary it with slabs of meat..)

Anyway. Things could be better.

But really, they couldn´t. I´m going home in TWO DAYS! 2 days, 6 hours, 25 minutes. But, who´s counting?

While I´m gone, I´m going to miss the several great friends I´ve made here. I won´t miss teaching necessarily, but I´ll look forward to returning to it in January. I´ll miss seeing the volcanoes outside my window. And. That´s about it.

Maybe a Monday morning after I´ve been sick all weekend is the worst time to blog. But hey, this is my life. I could portray all the lovely things and pretend life is swell here, or I could be real. I like realism. Redemptive realism of course. I thought I coined that, but apparently Flannery O´Connor said it well before me.

So that was the realism. The redemption is that I value my family, my ´hometown,´ my region, my country, and my God´s infinite love and grace so much more highly now. Bring on the rice and the illnesses and the creepers and the loneliness and the ugliness of the city (for a few more months...). I can handle it.

This is such a good time. In the real sense of the word good. Not like Carly Rae Jepsen and Owl City´s "...we don´t even have to try, it´s always a good time."  I mean, the outcome is good. It´s not quite as fun as a barrel of monkeys.

But then again, that´s just life, boys and girls: I don´t even have to try, it´s always a good time! (A rather rough paraphrase of Romans 8:28.)

Ode to the Midwest

A week from tomorrow I leave Quito for Christmas break in the most glorious place in the world:

The Midwest.

Cue Hallelujah Chorus.

Here, I formally confess and repent of all slander ever spoken against this dearest of locations.

Dad, enjoy this. I can hear you laughing in triumph from here: YOU WERE RIGHT.

The Midwest is peaceful, not boring.

The people are friendly in a non-intrusive sort of way.

There are delightful country roads, that I think of every time I play "Country Roads" on my guitar (which, by the way, I recently taught to my Intermediate II class and which we sang for the secretaries at CEC, and received a hearty applause).

There are seasons: there´s always a reason to hope for change and new beauty. Cozy winters with hushed, evening walks. Spring times with happy birdies and blossoming flowers (late though they sometimes may be). Warm summers to spend on the lakeside--never too hot. The most brilliant falls with leaves so colorful it takes your breath away. Seasons are good for the soul.

There are friends to be found just a walk, bike ride, or quick trip away.

There´s no ridiculous traffic.

Pollution? Not in our territory.

Creepers? Stick to the coasts. Mostly.

We don´t have impressive mountains, but we have acre upon acre of forest, growing over rolling hills.

We don´t have the ocean, but c´mon: we have the Great Lakes. Best bodies of water. Ever. Especially Lake Superior. It is superior.

We don´t have parasites either. Thank heavens.

Silence exists in the Midwest. It may be the peaceful silence of birds chirping and the wind rustling the new buds of spring time; it may be the perfect stillness of a winter walk in the woods; the silence of waves lapping the shore on a summer night; or the loud silence of the fierce wind on top of Hogback Mountain in the fall, from whose peak you can take in the colored hills and the deep blue of the lake.

The Midwest is family. Warm, fireside conversations. Grandparents a few hours away. Letters that arrive without a glitch; far-distant friends just a phone call away. Crisp apples in the fall, flavorful blueberries in the summer. The home of Hillsdale College.

The Midwest is a land of libraries, delightful coffee shops, barns, rolling farm fields, safety, and security. I think I´m in love.


Someday, I´ll write an ode to Ecuador.