So, Tuesday was King´s convocation. This means that I am now officially a university graduate. Crazy! In any case, it has often been asked of me, "What are you going to do with philosophy?" My answer is usually, "Nothing..." or ...nothing. That is, I don´t answer the question. Of course, this answer is not exactly true. During my time here I´ve worked through a book by the philosopher Edmund Husserl; his Cartesian Meditations: An Introduction to Phenomenology. Now, what phenomenolgy is exactly is difficult to explain. I don´t think I can actually do it. But, what I can say is that is has a lot to do with perception, with consciousness and seeing. And so, I want to begin to talk a bit about consciousness of culture, particularly a different culture.
First of all, it should be mentioned that different languages see different worlds. I have been wondering how to penetrate into this other world-this other culture-for just a peak. To see it in a fuller, more rich-a thickened-way. One cannot experience another culture but by experiencing the other experiencing their culture. Culture does not exist independently of people. It does not exist outside of, separate and apart from them. It is not food, or music, ways of using the toilet or ways of speaking. It is people living together, doing these things, making this way of being. Its not that I eat Ecuadorian food that I experience Ecuadorian culture. It is by eating it with others; seeing how they prepare it, how they serve it, how they use a spoon almost always, how they say "Gracias" at the end, how the scraps are put in a bowl for the dogs, and so on. So what is this experiencing?
Husserl says, "We see that in this fashion the cultural world too is given "orientedly", in relation to a zero member or a zero "personality". Here I and my culture are primordial, over against every alien culture. To me and to those who share in my culture, an alien culture is accessible only by a kind of "experience of someone else", a kind of "empathy", by which we project ourselves into the alien cultural community and its culture. This empathy also calls for intentional investigations." This is what I would like to carry out, these "intentional investigations".
I suppose it is interesting, this use of the word "empathy". Husserl has been criticised for it, for one´s experience of another must surely be more than empathy, nevertheless, let´s see where it can take us. Let´s assume empathy is required to truly experience the other. There is another mode-which I think we should say is still an experience, though a different one, of course-called sympathy. It seems often we sort of "look down" on sympathy because it is very much a "downward movement", whereas empathy comes on a level of equality. I think though, sympathy is, perhaps, a first step towards empathy.
Anyway, empathy implies a sense of common ground, of a connection available besides the natural difference of being separate people, despite being "alien". One reaches into one´s own experience, sees into the other´s experience and recognizes the similarity; gains understanding; "sees through their eyes". Now, this is supposed to happen in the background. It is a "condition for the possibility of experience of the other". But, when it is reflected upon after, or even during, the experience one gains a stronger sense of what occurs. Or, in the way I put it before, a "thickening".
This discerning of empathy, of common ground, "in the moment", and applying it to the situation at hand, is generally difficult for me to do. Largely this comes from the basic fact that my interactions are mostly with women. It is, however, an extremely important thing to do; to break out of my enclosed "monad" (for what this means, look to wikipedia and its article on Leibniz) to experience the other as other. In any case, for example, I think I have had a few moments of this type of experience with my host mom. Of seeing her deeper, of experiencing her through this "empathy".
Olimpia is much older than me, over forty, I think. She has given birth to six children. It is unlikely I will ever give birth to one. I am much taller than her. Her dress is in the traditional Kichwa way, mine is...I don´t know what you call it. She works harder than me and, very likely, is stronger than I am. She is missing the teeth between her upper canines. She sticks her tongue out from side to side while doing things like stirring a pot, slicing onions, peeling potatoes; essentially whenever she uses a tool. I do not. I am very white (though tanned...in some spots..now) while she has dark skin, like the other Kichwa people. She speaks (apparently) only Spanish. I speak English...and some Spanish. It is tough to talk with each other. She does not read or write (thus, she cannot use a dictionary, which makes communication even more difficult). She has, then, seemed "cold" to other people.
Olimpia is shy. This is something, I suppose, we have in common. This is not where one stops looking though. What else is seen in light of this, or despite this? And what insights into this culture are uncovered? First of all, it is immediately apparent that she has invited numerous students into her home. I am by no means the first. I am the fourth or fifth. We have all been cooked for and taken care of. When my stomach was a little upset the other week, Olimpia went out and found a special plant to make a special tea with. This tea was then made for me and brought up to me in my room. For the next few days her concern over my stomach´s condition was well made. It was obvious that she wanted the best for me, for my stomach to be healed.
There is another way in which I see deeper in to who Olimpia is. This is through her granddaughter, Maribel. Last week, in the kitchen as lunch was being cooked, Olimpia was talking to Patricio, Maribel´s brother. They were talking about Maribel, though what exactly was being said, I could not tell. I think, and this comes after recent events, they were talking about Maribel´s future place of residence. In any case, all of a sudden Olimpia began weeping as she talked. There was no attempt to hide them, no "Jordan, please leave the room". She was feeling deeply and was allowing us to see. Shortly after Patricio was in a similar state. My experience of Patricio has been limited, but I know that he is seventeen, has some large scars on his right arm, does not go to school, but works instead. I´ve begun to wonder if Maribel will have a similar future.
On Tuesday, I came down to see how dinner preparations were going. Olimpia told me that Maribel was at her father´s house. A little while later Maribel came in and her dad as well. Olimpia and Maribel´s father talked for awhile. They were obviously talking about Maribel. And Colegio, which seems to basically be high school. Seemed like there were doubts about Maribel attending one next year. In that conversation Olimpia began to weep again. Again, I was a witness to all this that was going on. It was becoming increasingly clear that Maribel was not just going for a day or so, but was actually moving in with her father. Just before leaving Maribel turned back and charged at me, throwing her arms around me. I was pretty taken by surprise and so, she pinned my arms at my side. She was squeezing so hard I couldn´t get them free. It was a five to ten second hug. The first real hug I´ve had since getting here. In that moment it was very very clear what was happening. And then they left. It was just Olimpia and I left in the room. And we both started to cry. Supper was long ago ready so she went into the kitchen and brought out soup for each of us. We ate in silence, mostly. Tears ran down each of our faces for most of the meal. A few times we looked each other in the eyes, knowing much of what the other was feeling and understanding why. It was clear. The situation was rotten.
I´ve thought back on this moment and wondered if perhaps this was also similar to the feelings and emotions expressed by my own grandparents (and other family members) and various "partings" in the past. When we moved to Yellowknife, for instance. Or, before I left for here.
In any case, the title of this post has Jesus in it, so I should make that clear. It stems from the idea that Jesus is the incarnation of God. That "the Word was made flesh" and that it "dwelt among us". That in becoming human there is this greater sense of empathy, of "knowing what its like". That, in Jesus experiencing pain and heartbreak and temptation his love takes on a deeper meaning. It is, perhaps, "thickened". But it goes the other way too. Because through seeing the Son, we see the Father. It is our experience of Jesus that is our experience of God. So, in seeing the love that was expressed by him, we see the love that the, more or less, incomprehensible father has. We see as well, the new "culture" that was preached; the Kingdom. In experiencing Jesus, we experience his kingdom. But how do we experience Jesus? There are a few aspects, I think. One of seeing the "image of God" in others and the other, which is perhaps similar, that when one feeds another, or gives water to them, one is giving it to Jesus himself. Both of these are, well, difficult. Later I will go more into my experience with these things, here and back home. But, I´ve been too long here...and this last bit needs more thought. And probably more phenomenology (since its what I´m pretending to talk about). I was, of course, only drawing a bit of a comparison. He wasn´t really.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Arrival and Feliz Dia Del Ninos!
By "arrival," I of course do not mean my own. Given that I have been here for nearly a month now (wow?! haha, or en espanol, jaja). On Friday when I got home from school, Olimpia, my host mom, told me that Blanca had gone into Cayambe, to the hospital, that morning. For the baby. Lunch was quite frantic, as one would expect, as Olimpia moved (probably as fast as I´ve ever seen her move) around the house getting things ready so that she could get to the hospital to be with Blanca. That afternoon I was...freaking out, you could say. I wasn´t expecting the birth to be "so soon" I guess. Really though, by appearances, I knew it could´ve been anytime. I went walking to the other town that afternoon to sort of "cool down" and see if Nick (the other male Intercordian in Ecuador, who also goes to King´s) was around. I guess I talked about his host family last time. He wasn´t there at first, so I walked around town a bit. When I came back, about 10 minutes later, I saw a truck loaded with grain outside the house and a bunch of people unloading. It had been raining for a few hours by this point, and they were all quite soaked. They had come from where we were harvesting grain a couple weeks ago, with it now processed into bags. About 100 pounds each. They weighed them that day. I guess they ended up loading and unloading the truck a few times (one of which was because they got stuck fording the river!). Pretty tough work. And with the rain, a pretty miserable situation. There was quite a bit of joking and fooling around when I saw them though, which Nick said had been carrying on the whole time. Which is something neat to see. Grumbling could still be detected in Spanish, I think. We ended up playing Monopoly in their kitchen (where the fire is) with his brothers and another neighbourhood kid who had been working. The rest of the family was eating, which meant I was offered food as well, so I had a second lunch. I´ll be a hobbit yet. Never expected to play Monopoly though. Not in a building made of dirt, right next to a fire. Anyway, Blanca and her little girl arrived home Saturday afternoon and seem to be doing well. Though, Blanca has mostly been in her room, with the baby, since getting home. I have not seen much of either of them.
This Saturday is my niece´s (though, for some reason I have been calling her my cousin.....) first communion. She is quite excited for it. The past few Saturdays she has been working through her little prep book, going to her class, and seems to know her stuff. I´m not sure what all is in store for this. Celebrationwise, and otherwise. A lot of that having to do with the fact that she lives with us, at her Grandmother and Grandfather´s house. Her mom has been in twice, in the time I´ve been here, for a couple hours each time. I´ve never seen her dad. Or her brother. Maribel, told me that she doesn´t actually know where any of them live. One of the hardest things I´ve heard so far. Basically, I don´t know know what that means with regard to her parents showing up. I hope they do. But, at the same time, the two times Maribel´s mom has been at the house, have been the most tense. So...
The other aspect, which I´ve hinted at, is that Olimpia and Luis, my host parents, (Maribel´s grandparents), are not Catholic, but are Pentecostal. I think, though, that there is an acceptance of each other in this (which is good, I think...I´m not much of a fan of the division that seems to be there...). I´m getting this idea basically from the fact that Maribel came with us to church when we went. And that she took part in it. That might not mean a whole lot, but maybe. We were at church that day for about four hours anyway. We spent the first 40 minutes praying, while people arrived and began praying as well. A few prayed at the front and some of them were praying into microphones. There was a certain ambiance because of this, as well as the others that prayed out loud. I wish I could have understood what they were saying, because there is definitely an intensity to how they are saying what they are saying. An urgency, maybe. I had that same wish more times as well, of course. After individual prayer, one of the ladies led a song, then read some scripture, then prayed, then more song, more prayer, more song. Basically a cycle back and forth of the two. After her, the young pastor got up and did much of the same, though he had a guitar as well. I think he had more of a sermon type thing as well. Hard to tell. After him, the older pastor did the same. They all used different passages of scripture though. After this, there was anointing, I think. They filled some...what looked like shot glasses, with a yellow liquid, which was oil or perfume. People came up in groups and were prayed over, and then oil was put on their foreheads, and sometimes hands as well. This happened for awhile, and I wasn´t really sure what was happening. Or more, why it was happening. The reason some went up sometimes and not others, and so on. After that though, was a final bit of song and prayer and then we all sort of shook hands and went out. Kind of different. Kind of the same.
My day at school usually starts around 730, where the kids are rounded up and do various exercises/marching and hear announcements. Class is supposed to start at 8, but usually starts earlier. Each class is about an hour long, with four classes a day. Grade 1s, Grade 2´s and 3´s, Grade 4´s and 5´s, and grade 6´s and 7´s. The best behaved are the grade 2/3 class and the 6/7 class. The others are...hit and miss, haha. So far I´ve taught the family, some verbs, the body, question words, greetings, and colours. With the upper grades I´ve been able to get into writing questions on the board and getting them to come up with answers. For example, What colour is a banana? A banana is yellow. This is...kind of exciting. Basically, they are actually learning something. Compared with what others have said about their classes, this is actually a significant thing. They feel they aren´t learning anyway. I´ve noticed though, I am not really the cool teacher I used to think (as a kid) I´d be. I often take away candy from the kids (before 8, even) and things like that. But they learn. They don´t seem very surprised anyway. Mostly the problem is, its tough to repeat when you have stuff in your mouth. Especially tough, when the letters sound different! There is a break at 10 for half an hour for "recreo". Then two more hours and I am finished at 1230. School actually ends at that time, with sometimes more time for some students for music. They seem to be learning a traditional song which is quite common here. Perhaps, it is the song. I like it quite a bit, anyway. I heard a ridiculously long version that day I was at the mother´s day celebration at the all girls school. There was a dance to it there, which went on for about 10 minutes. They faded it out. It didn´t resolve. I was a bit tortured for the rest of the day because of that. Or maybe it was sitting four hours in the sun (Nana, Mom, unread this sentence).
Yesterday, as well, was the Dia Del Ninos, (Children´s Day, I guess) so I played bingo with the first class. Afterwhich we played a bunch of games outside. Feedbag races, some other types of races, musical chairs, and so on. Good fun. They made me lead the first group to go at musical chairs, grade 1s to 3...in dance. Probably there is a video of it. There was much laughter. Lots of fun. I feel like I dreamt this a couple years ago, actually. A school in the mountains with me at it. Really weird feeling. Maybe I´ve mentioned this dream to someone before?...Anyway, we ended the day with a "feast" for the kids, which was nice. Then they went and got lunch from the kitchen. Haha, they eat a lot. So, so far, school is going good. I need more paper though, and have come into Cayambe to buy more, so I am headed to get some now. Please pray about these things I´ve mentioned above. Its needed. Gracias.
Jordan
This Saturday is my niece´s (though, for some reason I have been calling her my cousin.....) first communion. She is quite excited for it. The past few Saturdays she has been working through her little prep book, going to her class, and seems to know her stuff. I´m not sure what all is in store for this. Celebrationwise, and otherwise. A lot of that having to do with the fact that she lives with us, at her Grandmother and Grandfather´s house. Her mom has been in twice, in the time I´ve been here, for a couple hours each time. I´ve never seen her dad. Or her brother. Maribel, told me that she doesn´t actually know where any of them live. One of the hardest things I´ve heard so far. Basically, I don´t know know what that means with regard to her parents showing up. I hope they do. But, at the same time, the two times Maribel´s mom has been at the house, have been the most tense. So...
The other aspect, which I´ve hinted at, is that Olimpia and Luis, my host parents, (Maribel´s grandparents), are not Catholic, but are Pentecostal. I think, though, that there is an acceptance of each other in this (which is good, I think...I´m not much of a fan of the division that seems to be there...). I´m getting this idea basically from the fact that Maribel came with us to church when we went. And that she took part in it. That might not mean a whole lot, but maybe. We were at church that day for about four hours anyway. We spent the first 40 minutes praying, while people arrived and began praying as well. A few prayed at the front and some of them were praying into microphones. There was a certain ambiance because of this, as well as the others that prayed out loud. I wish I could have understood what they were saying, because there is definitely an intensity to how they are saying what they are saying. An urgency, maybe. I had that same wish more times as well, of course. After individual prayer, one of the ladies led a song, then read some scripture, then prayed, then more song, more prayer, more song. Basically a cycle back and forth of the two. After her, the young pastor got up and did much of the same, though he had a guitar as well. I think he had more of a sermon type thing as well. Hard to tell. After him, the older pastor did the same. They all used different passages of scripture though. After this, there was anointing, I think. They filled some...what looked like shot glasses, with a yellow liquid, which was oil or perfume. People came up in groups and were prayed over, and then oil was put on their foreheads, and sometimes hands as well. This happened for awhile, and I wasn´t really sure what was happening. Or more, why it was happening. The reason some went up sometimes and not others, and so on. After that though, was a final bit of song and prayer and then we all sort of shook hands and went out. Kind of different. Kind of the same.
My day at school usually starts around 730, where the kids are rounded up and do various exercises/marching and hear announcements. Class is supposed to start at 8, but usually starts earlier. Each class is about an hour long, with four classes a day. Grade 1s, Grade 2´s and 3´s, Grade 4´s and 5´s, and grade 6´s and 7´s. The best behaved are the grade 2/3 class and the 6/7 class. The others are...hit and miss, haha. So far I´ve taught the family, some verbs, the body, question words, greetings, and colours. With the upper grades I´ve been able to get into writing questions on the board and getting them to come up with answers. For example, What colour is a banana? A banana is yellow. This is...kind of exciting. Basically, they are actually learning something. Compared with what others have said about their classes, this is actually a significant thing. They feel they aren´t learning anyway. I´ve noticed though, I am not really the cool teacher I used to think (as a kid) I´d be. I often take away candy from the kids (before 8, even) and things like that. But they learn. They don´t seem very surprised anyway. Mostly the problem is, its tough to repeat when you have stuff in your mouth. Especially tough, when the letters sound different! There is a break at 10 for half an hour for "recreo". Then two more hours and I am finished at 1230. School actually ends at that time, with sometimes more time for some students for music. They seem to be learning a traditional song which is quite common here. Perhaps, it is the song. I like it quite a bit, anyway. I heard a ridiculously long version that day I was at the mother´s day celebration at the all girls school. There was a dance to it there, which went on for about 10 minutes. They faded it out. It didn´t resolve. I was a bit tortured for the rest of the day because of that. Or maybe it was sitting four hours in the sun (Nana, Mom, unread this sentence).
Yesterday, as well, was the Dia Del Ninos, (Children´s Day, I guess) so I played bingo with the first class. Afterwhich we played a bunch of games outside. Feedbag races, some other types of races, musical chairs, and so on. Good fun. They made me lead the first group to go at musical chairs, grade 1s to 3...in dance. Probably there is a video of it. There was much laughter. Lots of fun. I feel like I dreamt this a couple years ago, actually. A school in the mountains with me at it. Really weird feeling. Maybe I´ve mentioned this dream to someone before?...Anyway, we ended the day with a "feast" for the kids, which was nice. Then they went and got lunch from the kitchen. Haha, they eat a lot. So, so far, school is going good. I need more paper though, and have come into Cayambe to buy more, so I am headed to get some now. Please pray about these things I´ve mentioned above. Its needed. Gracias.
Jordan
Food and Mountains
I´m not sure how my father drinks instant coffee every morning. Instant is basically what everyone drinks here. One teaspoon of coffee and two tablespoons (or more) of sugar. Sugar is much loved. I find the first half of each cup is tolerable, but the bottom has been difficult at times. The few of us who are "into" coffee here have noted similar feelings. So, today, the three of us being in town decided to seek out "real" coffee. We were successful in our search, finding it where we did not expect to. On a street with many rundown looking buildings, there is an opening into a food court type place with nice tables and chairs- clean, stained wood. There are a number of little food shops selling things from burritoes to sandwiches to schwarma. Certainly did not expect to see schwarma. As well, there were a couple places selling espresso and espresso based drinks. The smell of freshly ground beans alone, seemed to hit the spot. The actual drinks, which we sipped in the park here, completed our lunch. Where we ate lunch, and where we got our coffee, are maybe 500 metres away from each other. If that. But the differences between the two are quite pronounced. We ate in the market area, which basically consists of a bunch of tin roof shacks out of which meat, fruits, vegetables, and meals are sold. In the eating section, each vender has about enough room for a table that seats 6-8 and maybe a smaller one as well. There, we had salchipapas. Salchipapas are papas frites (french fries) with a mayo-salsa sauce spread on top as well as a hot dog wiener and some shredded lettuce. A plate at this place costs 75 cents. My cup of espresso...80.
That seems to be my experience today though. The other Intercordians who are teaching English and I came into Cayambe today with our schools for, what I´m translating as, Children´s Day. The celebration was held at the fairgrounds...or where the carnival thing is here. There are carnival/fair rides there. Plus the Coliseum, which is where the event really happened. Outside anyway, there is a little playground with swingsets, a slide, monkey bars and some shacks that the Carneys might stay in. There is also an old dirty mattress lieing there. Everything is made of metal, and the slide, near the bottom, is broken. Metal poking up. Its frightening to see kids go down without much of a thought as to what awaits them there at the bottom. Right beside this little rundown playground, and actually, across from the market as well, are two tennis courts in very nice condition. Better than most courts I´ve seen in Canada. Two ladies were getting a lesson from a pro. At 8 in the morning. A luxury that was a bit shocking, after witnessing the farming communities we live in waking up at 530 to begin their day of work. I guess the city is always the place where the money is. Really though, its only certain parts of the city. They stand out.
The last day I sent an update, happened to be the day of my first fiesta as well. The sister of the host-mother of one of the Intercordians got married that day and invited us all to attend the fiesta afterwards that night. We were basically invited that day. We were all able to get permission from our host families to attend and so were all able to attend for awhile. The fiesta was in Convalacencia, another little community on the other side of the hill behind my house, at the house of the newlyweds. Since it would be dark by the time the fiesta was happening I was only allowed to go if I slept over at Nick´s house in Santa Isabel (the first community on the way to Convalacencia). Walking at dark is very much frowned upon. Especially for us from Canada, but even the others are hesitant to walk outside at night. Nick´s family is much less well off than mine, which is apparent as soon as one steps inside their house. They have four children, closer in age than mine. From what I saw, four beds. That night there were 8 of us in the house. Nick had his usual bed, and the bed that one of his host brothers sleeps in, the one next to Nick´s, was given to me to use. I don´t know where the brothers ended up sleeping. I was prepared to sleep on the floor...but I don´t think that was ever a possibility. It was almost like, "Jordan, you are sleeping here." They are kind hosts. The fiesta had a similar feel to it. We got there just before dinner started (well, the main course...soup had been served) and were put on benches basically at the front. We were able to see more that way I guess. We were also more seen that way. Haha, hard to blend in that way (if its possible at all). The meal was large, living up to the hype surrounding fiestas. There was roast pork, chicken, and another meat...maybe guinea pig, maybe beef...we never came to a conclusion, as well as an egg, some cheese, and some sort of corn thing...like a pasta type thing. Anyway, the bags which they handed out came in handy for carrying the rest home. Afterwards drinks were brought around to everyone. Boxes of weak "wine" (hard to say if there are actually grapes in it) were passed around to pretty much everyone. Or groups. The seven of us shared one. Other...buckets of juice (probably with some "whiskey" in it) were brought around with a cup were brought around. Everyone sharing. Anyway, we tried to calculate the cost of it, and were pretty sure it was beyond what could be afforded. There were something like 5 pigs roasted, which cost around $200 each, as well as the chickens and other meat and the band hired to play for the night...and I mean night, they were still playing at 6 the next morning when some of the others walked by. Not cheap. Of course, similar things are done in Canada for weddings. But fiestas in general are usually this extravagant here, and they have them often. Baptisms, First Communions, Confirmations, birthdays, and so on, are often big celebrations. Nick´s dad was telling us later that night, after we got home (haha, around 930- very early for a fiesta, its really only getting started then), that for the last son´s confirmation they had a cow, a couple pigs, chickens, lots of guinea pig, lots of music, lots of cervezas (haha, his sentence was something like "...mucho cuy, mucho musica...jaja, mucho cervezas". It seems astounding to me how much they spend for these celebrations. Especially when last week there were some robberies in Santa Isabel and Nick was told that if they had been robbed, the family would not have been able to replace their stuff. They would have been in a much worse position. I guess, things can always get worse. Of our host families, theirs is the one that seems to be struggling the most. They are also the ones who are always offering me a drink when I see them, or if its near a meal, food. And, as I mentioned, their bed.
The next morning they took us up to their land in the mountains. Arriba, as they say. That day they, and a bunch of people, were harvesting the wheat field up there. The wheat field at the top of a mountain. Its too big to call a hill. We walked up there from the bottom, with our back packs. The others walked up with donkeys (not on the donkeys) saddled with the food, and carried their tools, and babies, etc. Just ridiculous views. We weren´t allowed to help cut the wheat (we aren´t allowed to use sickles, machetes, chainsaws, etc.) so we watched and took pictures for the morning. After lunch (at 130 or 2) we started gathering the wheat. Here we actually helped. Mostly, as it seems always happens, being put to shame by everyone else. Getting home was interesting, as we all piled into the back of one truck. About 20 or more of us. We actually weren´t able to make it up many of the hills, so there was a bunch of getting out and pushing. Crazy, but quite the way to get home and watch the sun set.
Next time I write, I will talk about my first church experience here, which was this last Sunday. The combination of Spanish and charismaticism, was, surprisingly, not as overwhelming as I thought it might be. More on that later though. For now, chao!
Jordan
That seems to be my experience today though. The other Intercordians who are teaching English and I came into Cayambe today with our schools for, what I´m translating as, Children´s Day. The celebration was held at the fairgrounds...or where the carnival thing is here. There are carnival/fair rides there. Plus the Coliseum, which is where the event really happened. Outside anyway, there is a little playground with swingsets, a slide, monkey bars and some shacks that the Carneys might stay in. There is also an old dirty mattress lieing there. Everything is made of metal, and the slide, near the bottom, is broken. Metal poking up. Its frightening to see kids go down without much of a thought as to what awaits them there at the bottom. Right beside this little rundown playground, and actually, across from the market as well, are two tennis courts in very nice condition. Better than most courts I´ve seen in Canada. Two ladies were getting a lesson from a pro. At 8 in the morning. A luxury that was a bit shocking, after witnessing the farming communities we live in waking up at 530 to begin their day of work. I guess the city is always the place where the money is. Really though, its only certain parts of the city. They stand out.
The last day I sent an update, happened to be the day of my first fiesta as well. The sister of the host-mother of one of the Intercordians got married that day and invited us all to attend the fiesta afterwards that night. We were basically invited that day. We were all able to get permission from our host families to attend and so were all able to attend for awhile. The fiesta was in Convalacencia, another little community on the other side of the hill behind my house, at the house of the newlyweds. Since it would be dark by the time the fiesta was happening I was only allowed to go if I slept over at Nick´s house in Santa Isabel (the first community on the way to Convalacencia). Walking at dark is very much frowned upon. Especially for us from Canada, but even the others are hesitant to walk outside at night. Nick´s family is much less well off than mine, which is apparent as soon as one steps inside their house. They have four children, closer in age than mine. From what I saw, four beds. That night there were 8 of us in the house. Nick had his usual bed, and the bed that one of his host brothers sleeps in, the one next to Nick´s, was given to me to use. I don´t know where the brothers ended up sleeping. I was prepared to sleep on the floor...but I don´t think that was ever a possibility. It was almost like, "Jordan, you are sleeping here." They are kind hosts. The fiesta had a similar feel to it. We got there just before dinner started (well, the main course...soup had been served) and were put on benches basically at the front. We were able to see more that way I guess. We were also more seen that way. Haha, hard to blend in that way (if its possible at all). The meal was large, living up to the hype surrounding fiestas. There was roast pork, chicken, and another meat...maybe guinea pig, maybe beef...we never came to a conclusion, as well as an egg, some cheese, and some sort of corn thing...like a pasta type thing. Anyway, the bags which they handed out came in handy for carrying the rest home. Afterwards drinks were brought around to everyone. Boxes of weak "wine" (hard to say if there are actually grapes in it) were passed around to pretty much everyone. Or groups. The seven of us shared one. Other...buckets of juice (probably with some "whiskey" in it) were brought around with a cup were brought around. Everyone sharing. Anyway, we tried to calculate the cost of it, and were pretty sure it was beyond what could be afforded. There were something like 5 pigs roasted, which cost around $200 each, as well as the chickens and other meat and the band hired to play for the night...and I mean night, they were still playing at 6 the next morning when some of the others walked by. Not cheap. Of course, similar things are done in Canada for weddings. But fiestas in general are usually this extravagant here, and they have them often. Baptisms, First Communions, Confirmations, birthdays, and so on, are often big celebrations. Nick´s dad was telling us later that night, after we got home (haha, around 930- very early for a fiesta, its really only getting started then), that for the last son´s confirmation they had a cow, a couple pigs, chickens, lots of guinea pig, lots of music, lots of cervezas (haha, his sentence was something like "...mucho cuy, mucho musica...jaja, mucho cervezas". It seems astounding to me how much they spend for these celebrations. Especially when last week there were some robberies in Santa Isabel and Nick was told that if they had been robbed, the family would not have been able to replace their stuff. They would have been in a much worse position. I guess, things can always get worse. Of our host families, theirs is the one that seems to be struggling the most. They are also the ones who are always offering me a drink when I see them, or if its near a meal, food. And, as I mentioned, their bed.
The next morning they took us up to their land in the mountains. Arriba, as they say. That day they, and a bunch of people, were harvesting the wheat field up there. The wheat field at the top of a mountain. Its too big to call a hill. We walked up there from the bottom, with our back packs. The others walked up with donkeys (not on the donkeys) saddled with the food, and carried their tools, and babies, etc. Just ridiculous views. We weren´t allowed to help cut the wheat (we aren´t allowed to use sickles, machetes, chainsaws, etc.) so we watched and took pictures for the morning. After lunch (at 130 or 2) we started gathering the wheat. Here we actually helped. Mostly, as it seems always happens, being put to shame by everyone else. Getting home was interesting, as we all piled into the back of one truck. About 20 or more of us. We actually weren´t able to make it up many of the hills, so there was a bunch of getting out and pushing. Crazy, but quite the way to get home and watch the sun set.
Next time I write, I will talk about my first church experience here, which was this last Sunday. The combination of Spanish and charismaticism, was, surprisingly, not as overwhelming as I thought it might be. More on that later though. For now, chao!
Jordan
Ain´t no heir like a mountain air
Yesterday I had sort of planned to send a little message out after my school (and a bunch of other schools) went to Juan Montalvo (another little community near the city, Cayambe) to play in a soccer tournament. The other Intercordians that are teaching English were at the tournament with their schools as well. After the tournament was over, around noon, Marian and her host sister and I walked to Cayambe. About a twenty minute walk from Juan Montalvo. We were then waiting at the bus stop with Marian´s host brother who had gotten out of school, when Marian´s host mom, now joined with the sister (a few things happened which moved people around) asked if we wanted to see the school that the sister went to. We said, ok. On the way, they asked if we were hungry, it was now around 12:50 or so. We said ¨Poco¨. So they took us to a restaurant and we had lunch (this was unexpected). Then we rushed to the school to get there at 130. And then we were beckoned in...It was an all girl school and it looked like they were preparing for some sort of party. Which, turned out, was a mother´s day celebration. So...we were there for the rest of the afternoon, till close to 6. Haha, was not what I expected to be doing when I woke up that morning.
"Well, yeah, you´re going to get hop-on´s"
To get into town yesterday morning, a ride had been arranged for me with one of the familys of students. But, they didn´t show up. So, my host mom, after getting back from the early morning cow milking, grabbed her walking scarf and said ¨Vamos.¨ We started walking up the road which goes up the hill behind our house. On the way, the milk truck I hitched a ride on last Friday to get into town (going in the opposite direction before going back the way it took me then) picked us up to get to the top of the hill. Then, at the top we got on a different milk truck going down the other side of the hill (its a big hill) and down into Juan Montalvo.
To get home that night, I took the bus with the others to Santa Isabel (they stayed on till Convalcencia). The sun was setting at this point, 6:40, and I then climbed the hill (the same one I mentioned above) in about 5 minutes and the sun had set. A couple of the other Intercordians live in Santa Isabel as well. I visited them on Thursday, I think, and ended up playing soccer with them and the neighbourhood kids on their little dusty soccer area (which is a step above our playing on the rough cobblestone road outside my house)...and with the chickens and dogs.
This last week was the first week to start teaching, though I only taught for three of the days. On Wednesday there was a march in Juan Montalvo, that all the students from the...school district?...took part in, and, as I said, there was soccer yesterday. The march was something else. So many kids from all the schools, in their uniforms, marching their school flags (they, at least on Monday, practice marching and sing the national anthem before school starts) with one school up ahead drumming and spinning sticks and stuff. Basically, it was a parade, I guess. Lots of people were watching. The school´s director and I were the only teachers there, and we walked at the first line of students that were not carrying the flag. Which basically meant the youngest ones. We walked along to keep their pace and the line straight. I picked up the step and so, marched most of the time as well. Which was kind of fun. Don´t worry though, it hasn´t made the army more appealing. At the end of the march I had my first dairy product since getting to Ecuador. Yoghurt, which was passed out to all the kids with a bun. Because of the sun, I needed something to eat, so I took the "risk". It was no problem. That afternoon was the one I walked into Cayambe on and sent my last message. It took me an hour to get to the city, and 10 minutes longer to get back. It was a bit crazy, that walk, as the family´s dogs followed me in all the way. I thought I had lost them in the city and so, after a couple hours typing and looking for paper, for flash cards, I was definitely hoping and praying that when I went out of the mall at the north entrance (where some students had told me the dogs had gone), they would be there. I was not looking forward to explaining to my family that the dogs had followed me in to the city and I had lost them. But, they were there across the street and saw me immediately, jumping up and runnning to me.
Drink beauty, lose 10 pounds; come to Ecuador
The walk back was more difficult. There is a long climb out of Cayambe. It is tiring and works your legs. Then you walk past a number of rose plantations and small farms until you get out into more open country. There are large fields where cows are grazed and if you look up, the mountains are all around. Such a view. Once you get to the top of the climb, you can look out over the field, see Cayambe and the mountain range that surrounds the whole valley. Turn around and look up and you see the mountain. That is, Mount Cayambe. If it is a clear day, you can see the rocky lower part of the mountain and follow them up to the snowy peak.
Anyway, I´m in town today with the others who are in the Cayambe area. Its been a week now, so, we´re ¨checking in¨with each other to see how things are. Some of them are also having a tough time with the food. They´re tired of potatoes. Which are in most meals. I don´t mind yet though. Lunch typically consists of potatoes, rice, maybe some corn or other vegetable mix, and then some sort of meat. Since we bought hot dog wieners at the grocery store, often there is one on top. An interesting take. Dinner is usually a soup, which contains many of the same things. Cilantro is also an ingredient often used. I´m basically being forced to develop a taste for it I guess. Its alright. Anyways, its lunch time...which means, burgers I think. Haha.
Peace,
Jordan
"Well, yeah, you´re going to get hop-on´s"
To get into town yesterday morning, a ride had been arranged for me with one of the familys of students. But, they didn´t show up. So, my host mom, after getting back from the early morning cow milking, grabbed her walking scarf and said ¨Vamos.¨ We started walking up the road which goes up the hill behind our house. On the way, the milk truck I hitched a ride on last Friday to get into town (going in the opposite direction before going back the way it took me then) picked us up to get to the top of the hill. Then, at the top we got on a different milk truck going down the other side of the hill (its a big hill) and down into Juan Montalvo.
To get home that night, I took the bus with the others to Santa Isabel (they stayed on till Convalcencia). The sun was setting at this point, 6:40, and I then climbed the hill (the same one I mentioned above) in about 5 minutes and the sun had set. A couple of the other Intercordians live in Santa Isabel as well. I visited them on Thursday, I think, and ended up playing soccer with them and the neighbourhood kids on their little dusty soccer area (which is a step above our playing on the rough cobblestone road outside my house)...and with the chickens and dogs.
This last week was the first week to start teaching, though I only taught for three of the days. On Wednesday there was a march in Juan Montalvo, that all the students from the...school district?...took part in, and, as I said, there was soccer yesterday. The march was something else. So many kids from all the schools, in their uniforms, marching their school flags (they, at least on Monday, practice marching and sing the national anthem before school starts) with one school up ahead drumming and spinning sticks and stuff. Basically, it was a parade, I guess. Lots of people were watching. The school´s director and I were the only teachers there, and we walked at the first line of students that were not carrying the flag. Which basically meant the youngest ones. We walked along to keep their pace and the line straight. I picked up the step and so, marched most of the time as well. Which was kind of fun. Don´t worry though, it hasn´t made the army more appealing. At the end of the march I had my first dairy product since getting to Ecuador. Yoghurt, which was passed out to all the kids with a bun. Because of the sun, I needed something to eat, so I took the "risk". It was no problem. That afternoon was the one I walked into Cayambe on and sent my last message. It took me an hour to get to the city, and 10 minutes longer to get back. It was a bit crazy, that walk, as the family´s dogs followed me in all the way. I thought I had lost them in the city and so, after a couple hours typing and looking for paper, for flash cards, I was definitely hoping and praying that when I went out of the mall at the north entrance (where some students had told me the dogs had gone), they would be there. I was not looking forward to explaining to my family that the dogs had followed me in to the city and I had lost them. But, they were there across the street and saw me immediately, jumping up and runnning to me.
Drink beauty, lose 10 pounds; come to Ecuador
The walk back was more difficult. There is a long climb out of Cayambe. It is tiring and works your legs. Then you walk past a number of rose plantations and small farms until you get out into more open country. There are large fields where cows are grazed and if you look up, the mountains are all around. Such a view. Once you get to the top of the climb, you can look out over the field, see Cayambe and the mountain range that surrounds the whole valley. Turn around and look up and you see the mountain. That is, Mount Cayambe. If it is a clear day, you can see the rocky lower part of the mountain and follow them up to the snowy peak.
Anyway, I´m in town today with the others who are in the Cayambe area. Its been a week now, so, we´re ¨checking in¨with each other to see how things are. Some of them are also having a tough time with the food. They´re tired of potatoes. Which are in most meals. I don´t mind yet though. Lunch typically consists of potatoes, rice, maybe some corn or other vegetable mix, and then some sort of meat. Since we bought hot dog wieners at the grocery store, often there is one on top. An interesting take. Dinner is usually a soup, which contains many of the same things. Cilantro is also an ingredient often used. I´m basically being forced to develop a taste for it I guess. Its alright. Anyways, its lunch time...which means, burgers I think. Haha.
Peace,
Jordan
No hablo espanol
Though I have not actually uttered those words yet, they have essentially been said for me. By my host mother and one of our neighbours.
So, last Thursday we arrived at our homes in the communities surrounding Cayambe and Cotacatchi. We initially tried to take the main highway out of Quito, but were turned around by police fairly early on. Up ahead the road had been blockaded by protesters. The same protestors we saw on tv rioting the day before when we were waiting for our Spanish lessons. I´ve since asked my family about the protests (which are about a new water law being tabled) and they support the protests. It seems there is some serious business taking place. Anyway, I arrived at my place around 4 pm (we were aiming for 230) and was greeted by my host mom, Olimpia. She does not speak any English and does not read or write. I am still trying to "hear" Spanish, so it was pretty rough for the first few hours. When I came down from my room (we have two floors...not exactly a rarity, but enough to be worth noting) and went into the kitchen to see how dinner was coming along, I was greeted by Blanca, my host sister, and Maribel, my host cousin (Blanca´s cousin who lives at their house as Maribel´s mother lives on the coast). What I first noticed was that Blanca had a very large stomach. Pregnant large. I wasn´t too sure what to make of it at first and...language prevented me from asking...as well as the social awkwardness that seems to always surround these situations. That night I asked their ages, and I thought Blanca said she was 14. Mariebel is 12. The next day, Friday, I was supposed to go to school for the first time. However, on our way we were told that they had already left to go on a walk. So, we turned around and went back home. Then, we waited about half an hour to go into Cayambe...on the milk truck. Which is a pick up truck that goes around and picks up everyone´s cow milk in the communities surrounding Cayambe. So, Olimpia, Blanca and I hopped on the back and I got a bit of tour and saw many of the views that at some point I hope to take a picture of.
In Cayambe we went to a few shops. The first one was kind of like a clothing store, but sold household wares as well. I noticed that Blanca was looking at baby clothes. We saw a bunch of other stuff in the town, like the market, and one of the supermarkets...which had armed guards...M-16 armed. That shocked me a bit, as we only saw that on the way out. When we had entered the guards weren´t carrying anything like that (its the same door though, so this guard had just gotten there). Anyways, still thinking Blanca was 14, I was pretty distressed everytime I started to think of the implications that might have for her. A few days ago I made sure to confirm her age and she is actually 19, and engaged it seems. In any case, it seems that while I am here, she will be giving birth. And yeah, that is going to be...interesting. I don´t really know what the next little while is going to be like. I can certainly say, with the work that I´ve seen her and her mother do, that there is some crazy strength there, so, that´s good.
There is, of course, lots more to say, including a story about how one of Blanca´s brothers became a pastor (its loco, but bueno loco...as I said after hearing it...reading it really), but I can´t stay here and type forever. I walked here this afternoon, anticipating an hour and a half walk, but it ended up being about an hour. Because of that, these updates will be a little spread out I think. I am supposed to be home around/before dark as, well, my family cares for my well being. The school is supposed to be coming this way on Friday to play soccer, so I might be able to write some more then. In the meantime, chao!
Jordan
So, last Thursday we arrived at our homes in the communities surrounding Cayambe and Cotacatchi. We initially tried to take the main highway out of Quito, but were turned around by police fairly early on. Up ahead the road had been blockaded by protesters. The same protestors we saw on tv rioting the day before when we were waiting for our Spanish lessons. I´ve since asked my family about the protests (which are about a new water law being tabled) and they support the protests. It seems there is some serious business taking place. Anyway, I arrived at my place around 4 pm (we were aiming for 230) and was greeted by my host mom, Olimpia. She does not speak any English and does not read or write. I am still trying to "hear" Spanish, so it was pretty rough for the first few hours. When I came down from my room (we have two floors...not exactly a rarity, but enough to be worth noting) and went into the kitchen to see how dinner was coming along, I was greeted by Blanca, my host sister, and Maribel, my host cousin (Blanca´s cousin who lives at their house as Maribel´s mother lives on the coast). What I first noticed was that Blanca had a very large stomach. Pregnant large. I wasn´t too sure what to make of it at first and...language prevented me from asking...as well as the social awkwardness that seems to always surround these situations. That night I asked their ages, and I thought Blanca said she was 14. Mariebel is 12. The next day, Friday, I was supposed to go to school for the first time. However, on our way we were told that they had already left to go on a walk. So, we turned around and went back home. Then, we waited about half an hour to go into Cayambe...on the milk truck. Which is a pick up truck that goes around and picks up everyone´s cow milk in the communities surrounding Cayambe. So, Olimpia, Blanca and I hopped on the back and I got a bit of tour and saw many of the views that at some point I hope to take a picture of.
In Cayambe we went to a few shops. The first one was kind of like a clothing store, but sold household wares as well. I noticed that Blanca was looking at baby clothes. We saw a bunch of other stuff in the town, like the market, and one of the supermarkets...which had armed guards...M-16 armed. That shocked me a bit, as we only saw that on the way out. When we had entered the guards weren´t carrying anything like that (its the same door though, so this guard had just gotten there). Anyways, still thinking Blanca was 14, I was pretty distressed everytime I started to think of the implications that might have for her. A few days ago I made sure to confirm her age and she is actually 19, and engaged it seems. In any case, it seems that while I am here, she will be giving birth. And yeah, that is going to be...interesting. I don´t really know what the next little while is going to be like. I can certainly say, with the work that I´ve seen her and her mother do, that there is some crazy strength there, so, that´s good.
There is, of course, lots more to say, including a story about how one of Blanca´s brothers became a pastor (its loco, but bueno loco...as I said after hearing it...reading it really), but I can´t stay here and type forever. I walked here this afternoon, anticipating an hour and a half walk, but it ended up being about an hour. Because of that, these updates will be a little spread out I think. I am supposed to be home around/before dark as, well, my family cares for my well being. The school is supposed to be coming this way on Friday to play soccer, so I might be able to write some more then. In the meantime, chao!
Jordan
Alive
I am in Quito now. Juan (our coordinator here) picked us up and took us all to a hostel to spend the next couple days for orientation, spanish lessons, etc. The flights were pretty decent, the only complaint being that we flew in here at night, so it was too dark to really see the city. The lights were cool though. Anyway, more updates to follow in the next while...
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