Homework Blog...

response to my study abroad assignment...woohoo

1. What did you assume before you left that you are not finding in your
host-country, host-culture and/or host family and friends? Why did you
make those assumptions?

Things I am not finding in Ecuador…
Before I left I expected that everything in Ecuador would be extremely cheap. That has been true for the most part—for example I can get a roll of bread for 10 cents, can travel anywhere in the city for a quarter, buy loads of fruit for minimal costs, and more—but it’s not true for everything. Peanut butter, floss, deodorant and other toiletries, books and notebooks are unreasonably expensive compared to the states. It’s probably because they’re imported from the States: because we mainly export finished products whereas the third world mainly exports raw materials, there are other funny quirks about Ecuador.
One of these is that although Ecuador is right next to Colombia in terms of producing high-quality coffee, it makes such a profit from being exported that nobody drinks it here. I haven’t even seen a brewed cup of coffee in five months, since everyone uses the powder kind that you add to hot water.
I also expected to find the majority of the people leading humble lives, meaning simple houses and interiors, plain clothes, basic menus and lots of family time around the table and in the living room. On the contrary, I seem to have moved into a higher class lifestyle than I have ever experienced before. I seemed to forget that I was coming to an actual national capital: sure I walk past indigenous people in their traditional clothes, and plenty of street vendors selling chicken-feet soup and plantain on the corners, though these are the same streets that feature enormous modern United Nations buildings and the like.
I also thought that my family would be much more traditional than I was accustomed to—like eating all the meals together, sitting around and talking in the evenings, etc. In reality, lunch is the only time it’s likely to have company at mealtime, and that only 3 times a week for me; sometimes I’ll have “una merienda” or “tecito” (small dinner or tea time) with my host mom in the evenings, but really everyone in the family has a life of their own that keeps them busy. That means we rarely just sit around and hang out, and nobody is ever found in either of the two living rooms unless we have company.
Which brings me to the trade-off: although we don’t have much nuclear family time, the extended family gets together many times more than I am accustomed to in the US! All four kids and their spouses and their kids live in Quito, within a 20 minute drive. The weekends are always sure to bring one or more of these families over for un tecito, and during the week as well. Then, about once a month, there is some occasion to bring the big family together—meaning the brothers and sisters of my host parents, all their kids, and all the grandkids—so that the guest list quickly exceeds 60 people. That’s when we get out the nice tablecloths, china, and silverware. Carmen works overtime on these days.
Carmen is our maid: the majority of the middle class families employ a maid to cook and clean, though some employ others specifically for laundry or to be a nanny for their children. My family employs Carmen, who cooks, cleans, does laundry, answers the door and makes the beds. She works 6 days a week, 8 or so hours a day, and commutes over an hour each direction—meaning while she cooks for us her children fend for themselves for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We speak formally with her and she with us, though in these last months I have perhaps had more friendly and substantial conversations with her while we cook or do the dishes than with my actual host family.

2. How is the education system you are experiencing different from what
you are accustomed to in the U.S.? From your perspective as a student in
the U.S. how is it beneficial and disadvantageous?

The university is attended by upper-middle class suburbanites who live with their families, since there are no dorms. I realize now what a big difference this makes in the character of the school--there's not a lot of down time to meet new people, so most have groups of friends from high school they hang out with. The feel I get walking around campus is one of being on the OC, or at least back in middle school, where everyone’s wearing Hollister and A&F and AE to go with their sleek hairstyles and generally polished appearance. It is hard to make good friends for all these reasons, not because of unfriendliness on their part but just because that's the way it works with a commuter school. Still there are some really dear people to me from USFQ, especially from my volleyball and German and acuarela (watercolor) classes.
Academically speaking, the professors are extremely qualified; however they do not expect or assign a very high level of work from the students. It seems there is lots of room for this university to grow--the profs have the potential to make these students go far in life. The architecture program is probably the hardest working one, and very highly esteemed among all South America. These are my thoughts....

Cotopaxi

It has been so long since my last update, and so much has happened since then that I hardly know where to start. A trip to a volcano ought to do it.
This last Saturday, four friends and I went to Cotopaxi--reportedly the tallest active volcano in the world. Of course, "active" here means it puffs out bits of smoke now and again, and the last time it blew was in the late 1800's. (Kind of in the same sense that my blog is "active").

We had a 2 hour bus ride and arrived at the terminal in Latacunga when we realized we missed the park entrance; another bus and a half hour later we were shooed out of the bus on the side of the highway, in what looked like the middle of nowhere. We walked towards a little hut resembling one of the forts I dreamed about as a kid, where we were greeted by a nice young man.

He told us that the drive up to the actual park entrance was another 30 minutes, and the base of the volcano was another 30 after that--so we decided the lagoon was a nice place to stop, at 40 minutes away altogether. Then he offered to take us for $20 a head...I think three of us immediately started laughing, since we brought little more than enough money for the bus ride home. As Stacey put it, "He was trying to Gringo us" and we wouldn't have it. He warned us there was a river that we couldn't cross on foot, so we couldn't go without a car...we told him we'd try our luck. Off we went down the dirt road, prepared to simply picnic on the side of the road with a nice view of Cotopaxi a long way off.

As we were walking past a little bungalow with cows and chickens, I heard a man ask if we wanted to go up to the lagoon. He was pointing to his beater car and earnestly giving us prices--$25--for all of us. Okay, that's good, we thought, and off we went. Alonso turned out to be really friendly and eager to tell us about the area and about himself. As we jolted and rumbled slowly up the road, he waved at almost every person and car we passed, before turning back to us, offering more bits of local history.

We arrived at the "big river" the younger guy told us about, and a small uproar of indignant cries filled the car--the river was more of a large incontinent puddle. On we drove, through a canyon, past a forest of pines--replanted with 2 species, said Alonso, brought from California. That made me smile.

We arrived at the lagoon and upon jumping out of the car, a round of "Oh, brrr"s went around as we pulled out extra shirts, sweatshirts and down vests from our bags. We were still 20 minutes from the snowline, but 16,000 feet will get you even without the snow. Apparently, the summit is 19,347 feet, and features one of the few Ecuatorial glaciers in the world. Everyone took lots of photos and we goofed around a bit, enjoying the windswept feeling of the empty, lonely plain between two severely majestic mountains. The other mountain is Ruminahui--a Quichua name, like many of the place names around here. (Quichua was one of the languages of the Incas and is spoken widely today by the large indigenous population.)

We finally hopped back in the car, and, waving goodbye to Cotopaxi, began our descent. We stopped at this small exhibit/museum area where we found this great little shed for a photo op, and continued back to Quito. All in all, it was a fun and rather relaxing day trip...next stop, Cuenca! My group of 17 gringos are flying to the south of Ecuador and spending a couple days hiking, biking, caving and experiencing a little indigenous village that, thankfully, is not on the tourist line. I promise another update within the next couple weeks.

Otavalo

I went to Otavalo two weekends ago with my ACLAS group--and what happens when 20 gringos are set loose in the biggest outdoor market in South America? Large sums of money are spent, amateur price hagglers become professionals, everyone walks away with triple the mass they carried in, and at least 2 wake up at 5 in the morning to watch set up. Yes... my friend Rachel and I were persuaded that the early dawn (pre dawn!) commotion of setting up make shift tents and booths overflowing with hammocks, table cloths, blankets, art, jewelry, ceramics and alpaca sweaters was an experience well worth losing an hour of sleep. And it was--though it was more like a silent movie as Rachel and I walked the cobblestone streets, with only the distant noise of aluminum poles clanging behind us, a cart being pushed somewhere to my right, the muted voices of sleepy children helping out their mother with the booth.
Rachel and I of course tried to pretend we fit in, convincing ourselves we were not tourists, and in fact it was our habit to go for a stroll at 5:30 in the morning with our cameras in hand. haha.

Rachel felt more uncomfortable than me I'm afraid, so walking swiftly through the central plaza, a dense forest of booths growing to maturity before our eyes, we turned down an empty street and paused. That's when we heard it--an inhuman cry that seemed preposterous in the silent ceremonies we had just left. Ah, but it was inhuman--a couple squeals and grunts later we noticed an old man, an old women, and a great big old pig making their way down an empty cross-street. They were dressed in native clothes--beautiful even in the dim light; the pig of course was naked. The woman had a rope tied around the pig's neck and was pulling from the front, the man walked in back with a small switch and was apparently responsible for the occasional shrieks punctuating the morning hush.



Rachel and I stood still under some shadows on the corner, and I admit I was slightly enthralled, singing to myself "To market, to market, to buy a fat pig..." at this relic from some bygone era come out for a walk. I told Rachel I wanted to take a picture, and would she please stand there while I hid behind her to use my camera? She admonished me to turn off my flash, and became a momentary hunting screen for my little whim. Unfortunately it is difficult to get a good picture when you are crouched behind a human screen with your camera wedged between a shoulder and an ear; this is the best photo that I got. And then I remembered my hunting screen was a vegetarian, and was becoming slightly upset as the entourage approached and the pig cries got louder. So we turned up another street and walked again through the plaza and back to our hotel...

only to return an hour and a half later--after a little nap, a little hot chocolate and a couple breakfast rolls--and shop shop shop!





























the fully blown market. Everything seemed extremely boisterous and colorful.

















I have seen graffiti like this all over Ecuador--a nice change from gang symbols in my opinion.

El 10 de Agosto: a night for celebration!

Old buildings line a street in El Centro
Tonight was Wonderful!
El 10 de Agosto is the Ecuadorian Day of Independence from Spain--and interesting fact, Ecuador was the first South American country to become independent. Next year is the 200th anniversary...I am sad to have missed that, after experiencing this last week of celebrations.

Tonight Lali and I took the Trole, the Ecuadorian version of the cable car featuring twice as many people in half the space, to the historic district of El Centro. This is the heartbeat of Quito, and walking down any of the hundred narrow cobbled streets(being two to five hundred years old) you find a plaza with a large fountain or statue or both, making it feel spacious, surrounded by a flourish of blooming trees and plants, making it feel cozy. And probably there are one or two enormous and elaborate churches around the plaza, perhaps a museum, and a library, and government buildings all reminiscent of the "Painted Ladies" of San Francisco. The streets were closed off to cars in about a one mile radius from the Presidential Palace, the main plaza for the events this evening.


Presidential Palace

Lali reminded me of dad tonight, because every few minutes as we walked around El Centro, she would find a gaurd or a vendor or a cameraman to talk to and ask questions. I think this is more common in Ecuador, everyone loves to talk with strangers. Lali took me away from the crowds down a narrow but lovely old street called Calle Ronda, to a little adobe building called La Casa de las Geranias. (House of Geraniums). Here we got big hot chocolates and Huge empanadas--kind of like a pocket-shaped biscuit with cheese in the middle. We put sugar on top, like I do with Cele's crepes at home. It was delicious and I loved the atmosphere--we even had a sort of mariachi band come play for us. After "Besame Mucho", they asked "Te gusta la cancion?" But before Lali or I could respond they spoke in broken Rnglish, "You like the song?" Haha! Lali has darkish blonde hair, and as Lali explained later (laughing a lot), they thought she was a gringa! There were many european looking people tonight, at least more than usual, so it was a reasonable assumption. But Lali doesn't speak a word of English and when they asked that, she just looked really confused, then asked, "Perdon?" It was amusing. (Plus I enjoyed pretending I too am an Ecuadorian who just happens to have blonde hair.)

The main event of the evening was an hour long presentation of music and slide shows and traditional dances celebrating their independence, finished off with a spectacular fireworks show. Probably 1,000 white plastic chairs were set up in the plaza before the main stage, set on the steps of one of the older churches around. Of course, much of the time the crowds were too busy waving towards the balcony at the presidential palace to enjoy the show. There stood Rafael Correa, their extremely beloved (very leftist, arguably socialistic) president, with his family and a crew of uniformed men lounging over the railing and enjoying themselves. One of my favorite things was hearing the whole crowd sing the national anthem, which they did twice, at the beginning and the end--swaying and smiling and all very picturesque.

Another shot of the plaza in daylight

Walking back was quite the adventure--I was laughing the whole time because the crowd was the densest I have ever experienced. If we had been any closer we would have chemically bonded and become a sort of people-liquid. As it was, we moved (with a struggle) in little currents until we were a couple blocks out of the plaza, when the crowds finally dispersed a little. Took the trole home, and here I am, wishing I had pictures to share...but alas, I was advised not to take even a purse to the celebrations due to the crowds and crowds. The first picture is taken from the presedential palace, and it's only one corner of the whole plaza. Just imagine all of it, with everything lit up and extremely crowded with people....

Growing on me

Here is a picture from the top of one mountain, where a huge statue of El Panecillo stands. It is the thing that I love most about Quito--the feeling of being a tiny detail in a giant oil-painting. My first days here I was repulsed by everything reminding me Quito is a big city--along with a lot of noise, the buses let out big black clouds of exhaust so at the end of every day my nose feels like an exhaust pipe. Also, I walk through the great big Parque Carolina twice a day on my way to or from school, and this bothers me more than the traffic, because the whole park is filled with litter. Aren't parks supposed to be a sanctuary from the busy roads and outside world? In my mind I call the trees here Boo Radley trees, because every one big enough to hold a mysterious piece of trash, does. I saw two diapers in one the other day. And then there are the guys, the machismo, the whistling and clicking and stares and greasy smiles. The little boys pausing from their futbol game to whisper "Mira, la gringa! Gringa!" The older men in business suits turning 180 degrees. Grr.

I am only writing about these things because I have good news--Now I am noticing all kinds of things I love about Quito, things I did not notice at first. Like how all the trees here have great big colorful flowers! How every place that has any kind of vegetation, is blooming and gorgeous. Walking through the park now I realize that not every whistle is for me, and my head is not looking down long enough to notice all the trash so I notice the blooming trees. Things are looking up.

Maybe this changed because of my visit to Papallacta this last weekend. It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been to, and I think it may have changed my idea of Ecuador a bit. Set at the top of a not-extremely-active volcano at maybe 10,000 feet, Papallacta seems to be swathed in the bitter-cold of garua, Spanish for a type of fog or mist that just stays for months. But it has natural hot springs, which makes the cold worth it--and it has lovely views. My host mom Lali took me to meet up with her eldest daughter's family--so it was Mari-Aulalia, her husband Mauricio, their 12 year old son and two 11 year old boys visiting Ecuador for a month long summer camp. Here is a site to some pictures of Papallacta: http://s336.photobucket.com/albums/n349/arwalton/?albumview=slideshow

!Ciao!

The Basics

Hola a todos!
This blog is going to be something of a smörgåsbord, since I have been in the Galapagos the past week and have lots to tell. I'll start with the basics.

Mi Familia
Lali and Gonzalo are my host parents--they are very sweet, rather classy, fast speaking (for Ecuadorians) short people. They have 4 grown children, one of whom, Tamara, lives on the top floor of this house with her husband Gonzalo and little Benjamin, age 1 1/2. (Note: pronounced ben-ha-Meen). The other kids, as well as brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews all live in Quito, and family get-togethers are big and happen often. (I missed one the Sunday I left for Galapagos--que triste!)

Comida
Sopa, or soup, is Ecuador's specialty. I have been told there are more than 365 types of soup, so I should expect to have a different one every day. It is served as a first course at lunch, the biggest meal of the day, followed by a more substantial dish that seems to always include rice. I have had chicken soup, soup with impressive amounts of cilantro, a green soup (probably a cream of broccoli and other vegetables) to which we added handfuls of salted popcorn, tomato soup, and more. Tonight I had an orange or salmon colored soup with little chunks of what seemed to me to be bread. I was wondering if it was french toast soup, because the bread seemed to have an odd texture, and it tasted a little of cinnamon--and as I was scarfing down my french toast it occurred to me that the little bread pieces were more likely seafood, possibly squid. I really don't know what it was but for the rest of the meal my mind kept returning to images of squid, and how my stomach would react to tentacles, even cinnamon flavored tentacles, and I'm sorry to say I only ate a few more bites before taking up my rice and chicken.

Galapagos
For a better idea of what the islands are like, read the short chapter on Galapagos in Charles Darwin's book The Voyage of the Beagle. You would think that these islands would be tropical, being on the equator, but the majority of them are extremely dry and savage looking, resembling photos from the Mars Lander more than anything. In fact, in Darwin's time, the general consensus was that the Galapagos Islands were hellish. Of course it's a different story today...and come on, the baby sea lions are so cute!
Still, eight days of traveling to the different islands is very hard to sum up, so I will direct you to some of my photos. (I'll upload more later, it's a lot of trouble really). I will say, one of the high points on the boat was the night we had a bbq on the top deck. After most of the people had retired downstairs, a small commotion grew at the table next to us. It was the 30th anniversary of this Italian couple, sailing with their two grown kids. They were stereotypically Italian, complete with a boisterous storytelling. The daughter translated the story of how they met and fell in love, and concluded with champagne all around (ick) and a round of group photos that I am proud to be featured in. A late night of dancing was the perfect end to the evening. I am reminded of a line from Six Days, Seven Nights--"It's an island, baby. If you don't bring it here, you won't find it here." This was very true of the Galapagos: though they are a nice place to visit, to be sure, my trip was really wonderful because of the people that came along and just being able to share a trip with new friends.

here's the link to the slideshow:
http://s336.photobucket.com/albums/n349/arwalton/?albumview=slideshow

First Impressions

Quito:

This is a city whose skies wake up clear and turn ominous after lunch. It is a city where airplanes look bigger than you remember, and everything seems to be urgently lazy. Simplicity means less rules, and traffic is kept extremely simple. It is bachelor city, where every street has tiny crowded food shops, every corner has a dog and every sign has a stain. It is loud; honking is the beat to every other incessant sound of accelerating engines, barking dogs and screeching breaks.
But it is also a hidden city. The house I live in is a jewel in an ugly metal box--though I can look out my window to the METROCAR: Servicio Autorizado garage that squats just in front of a tall mass of offices, apartments and Mussolini-type architecture, all tangled together in thick power lines, I can easily forget it and feast my eyes instead on the deep blue walls and ornately carved mohagoney furniture that graces my room. The house is very classy, on the inside, so that I am almost out of place--perhaps I am glad for METROCAR.
The same goes for the ACLAS building, which is disguised as another grubby gate on a chaotic street. Inside the gate it is white and dark blue with balconies and and a garden, a charming old Ecuadorian villa with hints of summers in Greece. Besides these, there is Pichincha, the enormous volcano that pops in and out of view when you least expect it. It seems to be the grandfather of the city. It has a presence that is felt like the ocean is felt in California--an anchor and a disciplinarian and a map and also the prettiest thing around.
I hope this paints a picture of Quito similar to what I have seen so far.
Hope all is well in the states!!
And today,