Going Coastal

Kent and I just got back from a week-long adventure on the coast. From Guayaquil to Manta, we thoroughly enjoyed the warm beaches, thatched bungalows and delicious seafood. It was just the break I needed.

We spent a night in Riobamba to break up the long bus ride south. It's a lovely colonial city with lots of beautiful architecture and the best lasagna! Maybe we were just hungry after travelling...

The Hotel Tren Dorado "Golden Train" was right across the plaza from the train station from which departs the famous Nariz del Diablo "Devil's Nose" ride.

The next morning we walked around the city and spotted many fresh chanchos like this one.
The six hour bus ride down from the sierra to Guayaquil was long and hot but afforded gorgeous views like this one.
Guayaquil was much safer and more attractive than I expected. We found a reasonable hotel close to the Malecon, the fancy boardwalk/urban development project the city carried out in 2000, and enjoyed shrimp dinners and...McDonald's sundaes for dessert. So decadent.

The Malecon streched for several kilometers along the river, and had many statues, lookout towers and sailboats to go along with its restaurants and stores.

Back at the uber-modern bus station, we boarded an air conditioned bus for Salinas, Ecuador's most famous and fancy beach resort area. The water was indeed crystal clear, the mansions tasteful, and the seafood excellent. We stayed in the Hostal Los Cocos in a nice second-story room. The only downfall of Salinas was the painful bee sting that I got on my finger while collecting shells on the beach, and the guy on coke that kept trying to get money from us (in a non-threatening way) after dinner.

A few hours farther north, we checked into one of Montañita's many hostels and Kent finished his master's thesis in a hammock. Yay! I ran into Zac Wass, a classmate of mine I hadn't seen from high school. It was fun to catch up with him and his Peruvian friend Adrian. The next morning I took Kent out for a private surf lesson, and he stood up! The waves were fun and the people were friendly.


In Las Tunas, we stayed in an Eco-Lodge called Azuluna, all bamboo with great kitchen where we made ourselves breakfast. It was also home to huge, incredibly soft dogs. We met a group of Canadian women finishing up a teaching practicum and some volunteers who were just finishing a wall as part of a water system for the town. The owner of Azuluna was also the president of the foundation that had connected all of the volunteers to the community.

Here I am with the milk we saved from breakfast and carried on the bus to Puerto Lopez, only 20 minutes north. Of course I spilled some on myself getting on the bus.

To be continued...

Haba Harvest in the Campo

Last Sunday I went with my host family to harvest "habas", a large bean with a distinctive flavor. We left the house at 7am with big blankets for harvesting and carrying down the habas, and some popcorn and beans packed for lunch. We ended up with several large sacks called quintales, which will be a major part of our diet for the next few months. Toasted habas, haba soup, mote de habas--you name it, we'll eat it. I think they're pretty tasty and full of protein.

On our way up, we met this friendly guy having a snack (from what I can tell that's all they do all day). The Ecuadorian news has been telling people to watch out for the swine flu by keeping their pigs far away, which doesn't make much sense since only the first case would have passed from pig to human. My family isn't worried about the swine flu, because they say that if you're afraid of an illness, you're more likely to get it.

After walking uphill for about half an hour, we arrived at the family's property where they had grown corn and habas. Papa Santos had already been up there working for an hour when we arrived, a work ethic that is very characteristic of him. If everyone in the family didn't contibute and work hard, it would be impossible for them to make ends meet. We spent about 4 hours winding our way up and down the rows plucking the habas off of knee-high plants, trying to keep time with each other so we could finish whole sections together before moving on to the next. At first I kept getting told to hurry up, or that I was leaving some on the bush (lose-lose situation) but then I got the hang of it and could hold my own.

The walk down went by faster than the walk up, even with the harvest on our backs. The same pig was still doing the same thing.

Once we got home, we sorted out the tender ones from the dry ones, then relaxed and played monopoly for a few hours. It was a fun day, and I really like the fact that my family grows and harvests most of the food they eat, even if it sometimes means lack of variety. I'm also glad they're so willing to let me participate and help them with daily activities, because that's how I begin to understand what life is really like here.

Weekend Adventure to Chota

Less than 2 hours north of Otavalo lies Chota, a dry, sunny valley inhabited almost exclusively by Afro-Ecuatorians. Decending thousands of feet in the bus, we saw orchards and steep valley walls with a river running through the center. Next we hopped on a bus to El Angel, climbing back up into the high paramo.

In El Angel, we stayed in this charming little hostel. There were about three restaurants in town and we had delicious roasted chicken at on of them.


The main cathedral in El Angel was impressively large for such a small town.

The next day we went to the nearby "El Calderon" hot springs, which were only lukewarm. The setting was incredible though.

We spent the second night at "Aruba", one of the many hotels with swimming pools lining the Chota Valley. There were tons of Ecuadorian tourists (and maybe some from nearby Colombia)

Back in Otavalo, we ate a second round of fanesca (the special pumpkin soup with 12 grains) with Kent's family. Kent and his host siblings Kuri and Kami are eating some ice cream the family made to sell in their adjacent store.

Out back, I got to hold one of the baby bunnies.
The stairs from Otavalo to Kent's house in Rey Loma are steep.

Otavalo from above, with Cotacachi Volcano partly covered.

A picture is worth a thousand words

Cuy (Guinea Pig) Roast!


I picked up on a soccer team for a tournament last weekend. We won second place and a pig.

One of the other teams didn't show up so we had a huge muddy scrimmage with spectators. Kent went for a few wild slides in the mud.

My host sisters like to stress out Kent with their constant giggling.

My host mom got out the stone mortar and pestle to make some aji, or spicy sauce, with pumpkin seeds, hot peppers, water and salt.




I helped.


Kent and I hiked up to the sacred Lechero Tree in the morning and got an amazing view of Otavalo on one side and Laguna San Pablo on the other.

Cultural differences

Recently I’ve noticed an increasing number of differences between my beliefs about illness and those of my host family. For example, when I spent last Saturday lounging around the house with an upset stomach and diarrhea, my family assured me that it was because I drank cold water (the key word being cold) directly after drinking hot milk with them instead of waiting at least 3 hours. Drinking hot liquids does make sense because the boiling kills bacteria and parasites, but the cold water that I drink is always through my filter bottle, and I’m pretty sure I got sick from some raw cabbage I ate the day before.

To top off the experience, I was told not to drink water while I had diarrhea because that would make it last longer. When I flatly rejected this advice, I ended up having an interesting conversation with Santos about how each country or culture provides distinct advice about prevention and treatment of illnesses. He also performed a traditional “cleaning” on me, which involved spraying alcohol and perfumed water on me from his mouth, shaking a bundle of dry leaves around me while chanting, then blowing away the bad energy that had entered my body. Whether it was his healing or the immodium I took, I was better the next day.

As you may have guessed from my recent entries, I’m feeling some culture shock right now, and have been thinking a lot about Hawaii and Vermont. I am enjoying the work and the friends that I’ve made here, but I also spend a fair amount of time missing family, friends and familiarity. I think it is a phase of being here that will change soon (I hope), but in the meantime I am taking everything day by day.

School has continued to be a source of joy and stress. The kindergarteners are very sweet but it’s hard to get them to do anything besides color and play with puzzles. The first and second graders are a handful—at 25 they’re the biggest class in the school. Fifth and sixth grade presented their geography projects today, and I was impressed by their pronunciation. I love being around the kids but can't help but feel a little sad when I realize how much is lacking in their education. I would guess that they spend about 3 hours actually in the classroom each day, and of that are learning for maybe 2 hours. Many of them can't focus long enough to finish simple tasks, or read or write very well. Some of the teachers are very intelligent and dedicated, but others seem to view their job only as a glorified babysitting position. I am enjoying getting to know the kids and teachers at my school.

The view from above of Ati Pillahuasu, the elementary school where I teach English. The multistory buildings are homes of extended families.

Correa Wins by a Landslide

The campaign season wrapped up this past Thursday with parades of honking cars, concerts in the public squares and of course, boozing. “País”, the socialist party of current president Rafael Correa, threw a big flashy party up in Parque Bolivar, complete with scantily clad backup dancers. “Pachakutik”, the indigenous party, threw a smaller party with traditional Kichwa music down in the Plaza de Ponchos. Elsa, Pacha, Kent and I got dollar slices of pizza then went to check out the festivities.

One of Pachakutik’s fliers promised the construction of a monorail, pyramid and giant market complex. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like any of this will be happening soon since only two Pachakutik candidates were elected in the whole country. País for its part will continue to offer monthly welfare bonuses of $30, which, according to my host brother Alberto, have made Ecaudorians lazy. On Sunday, Correa won another turn as president, by a landslide of 60% (the next candidate had 30%). The election was of “good quality” according to the EU observers, but there was some violence on the coast.

One of the strangest political things I’ve heard recently (aside from the promised monorail) is that Obama wants to go to war with Ecuador. Whoa. To give some context, this came from an 8 year-old girl who had heard from her mom that Obama supports Colombia and therefore would go to war with Ecuador. It’s interesting to hear how news and politics are “interpreted”, to put it kindly.

Cotacachi Volcano on a nice clear day.

The End of Chapter 1

The final week of Health Care Volunteer Vacations wrapped up with a group of med students from the University of Utah. They were the most fun, laid-back group of future doctors I could imagine, and I really enjoyed getting to know them. We worked in five communities above the town of Gualsaqui, still part of the canton of Quichinche but at least an hour away in the back of a truck that definitely wouldn´t pass emissions standards. We usually arrived at around 9:30 or 10 am, set up shop, and with the exception of one rainy day saw around 50 patients. Everyone rotated roles in running the clinic every day, and three of the med students would perform a preliminary consultation before running their diagnosis by one of the doctors. This provided a great way for the students to get the hands on experience they´d been hoping for and allowed us to see more patients. We still hope that next time more doctors will come, so that we can serve all of the patients that show up, and also so the non-doctor volunteers always have enough to do.

While patients were waiting to see the doctor, we would give public health talks about nutrition, family planning, sanitation and hygiene. In Achupallas, several of the middle aged women directed us to their teenaged children to talk about using condoms, which was a priceless scene.

Huayraspungo was the most distant community, way up in the mountains (and clouds) above Gualsaqui. These two women are wearing the traditional "anako" skirt worn by all indigenous women around Otavalo.

Dr. Rosado, originally from Puerto Rico, was one of the providers who brought the group of med students here. He was telling those of us riding in the first truck to look at the big mudslide blocking our way. We waited 30 minutes for it to be cleared away--a typical morning en route to a clinic.

Corey, one of the med students, spoke excellent Spanish from his two years of volunteer work with Hispanic communities in Fresno, CA. Here he is giving a public health talk to a captive audience sheltered in the back of one of our trucks.

On the way down from one of our clinics, we stopped to see a spectacular view of Laguna Cuicocha (Guinea Pig Lake in Kichwa).

My fabulous coworkers Kent, Anna and Dana.

The one downside of all the work running the clinics was that I wasn´t getting to see much of my host family. This all changed in April, when I suddenly had a lot more free time on my hands. I teach English for about 2 hours a day Monday-Thursday in the local elementary school, which has been a blast so far. I have Kindergarden through 4th grade one day a week each, and 5th and 6th grade three days a week since they need more preparation for colegio (high school). I try to keep the classes as fun as possible, with games, art and singing. I´ll be teaching there until mid-June, when school ends and I start teaching summer school for high schoolers.

When I´m at home, I try to help with chores like shelling beans, husking corn, sweeping and washing dishes. This also provides a great opportunity to chat with my family and learn about their world. They treat me just like a member of the family, with some exceptions like getting served food before everyone else and laughed at for the amount of time I spend reading or brushing my teeth, and I´m happy living with them. We always share some good laughs, especially over the antics of Condor, my 9 year-old brother, and the running joke that anyone of us who arrives at the house at night was out "mociando", which literally translates to having a romantic affair. Somehow it never gets old.

Blanca, the younger sister of my brother Alberto´s wife, came to live with us so she could help her sister care for her newborn baby.

Estela, my 23 year-old sister, is training to be a chef at Universidad Tecnica del Norte in Ibarra.

A beautiful sunset over Imbabura volcano from my house.

The animals have the run of the house until someone sees, then they get a sharp reprimand.

Moment of Zen: How fast was he running when he hit the wall?