A Change in the Weather

There have been a few changes in my life recently, the most blessed of which is the weather I currently enjoy here in Guayaquil, Ecuador. Remember all those posts about how it was so hot I was dying a slow death every day? The weather changed with the season and now it's merely warm, I hardly even sweat anymore! The current season is one of the two Ecuador has, and is called summer, we just got out of winter. I know, they got it all wrong. It's like the name of Greenland. It's like getting on a bus that says "Guayaquil" only to find out it's going to Duran. It's like raaa-ee-aaaaain, on your wedding day....

*Ahem* So, last night, late at night, I was walking home and the wind made me feel a little cool. Not cold, just a chill, ever so slight, was in the air. It was a thing of beauty. The only aspect of the sweltering heat I could possible miss is the fact that it is really good for the skin. It was like a free 24/7 facial that kept all pores clean and skin shinning. Acne? Wasn't a problem. What was the problem was sweating like a pig. That and massive discomfort I had to face every moment, of every day. And don't tell me pigs actually can't sweat, I've already heard that. If there were any pigs in this city during the "winter" months, I'm sure they are all dead by now, as no amount of wallowing in the mud could save them. That or they spontaneously mutated at a genetic level to grow pores all over their bodies.

Another big change has been my classes. I have finished the first intensive semester and am on to the next. I decided to take Intercultural Communication, Calculus II, and a high-lev Spanish course to improve my hablaring de espanol. However, Intercultural Communications scared me. I was the only Gringo in the class, as usual, but given the topic I would be required to be a steady participant in the class. I don't like class participation. The teacher called on me numerous times to get the Gringo point of view and the students watched me with awe, no doubt thinking "the class is called Intercultural Communication, and on the first day we're already doing it!" Had I told them that I was also a Mormon, it would have been like setting off a small bomb.

It brought back bad memories of my Socioeconomics in Ecuador class where the teacher assumed I already knew about Ecuador's history and everything that went on in the United States. He would ask me crazy things like the per-capita income of Chicago in 2002. Seriously, I don't know how this logic worked out in his mind, just become I come from the States does not make me a specialist on the subject. Not wanting a repeat of this treatment that would surely be much more severe, I dropped my Intercultural Communications course. Now I just have three classes in one big solid block of five hours at night, I get out at 10:30PM. We'll see how this works out...