Quinceañera

I went to a quinceañera last Friday, and I'd like to share my experience here to educate those who may not have had the chance to go to one. For those of you who do not know, this is a party held to honor a young girl's entry into society as a woman. Corny and boring at times to be true, but also a fun experience.

This particular quinceañera was in a nearby town called Milagro (miracle). The bus ride there would have been much more comfortable had I not been wearing a suit and tie. Thankfully, it wasn't too hot out so I didn't sweat all over my newly dry-cleaned suit, which is a good start to the evening. I arrived only slightly wrinkled at the party right on time, found my friend, and sat down to enjoy the first quinceañera I had ever been to. The location was a beautiful grand hall overflowing with balloons and decorations, a small waterfall with brown stones was on one side of the room and a bar in a corner.

It started much like a wedding, with all the young girl's friends walking into the room as couples. The Quinceañera herself entered last with her boyfriend and all the room stood. Some announcements were made, some words were shared, then some more, then some more. Same as a wedding, lots of "blah blah ever since I have known this girl blah blah a wonderful person blah blah I like cake ect." You know the routine. It was interesting to hear how they were welcoming her into society, though. I find the idea to be amuzing, like if they don't officially welcome her she's not in. It seems they fear she'll try to go out into this indeterminate society and somehow be shunned. Ah well, it's a cute gesture I guess.

Next, all the young kids took the dance floor, and did an exibition dance. It was a waltz. This was slightly surreal, I mean who does the waltz anymore, especialy kids? And a Spanish waltz no less. I am almost certain this was against their will, as it would certainly be against mine. Choosing between dancing the waltz and having to eat an entire cuy by myself, I'd go for the cuy and consider myself lucky. I wish I could prove that they did indeed waltz but at this point the new batteries on my camera died. Having bought them not ten minutes earlier, I was dismayed. The brand of the batteries was Bic. To my knowledge, Bic makes pens, not batteries. I should have known.

A Ricky Martin number came next, the kids were obviously more at ease dancing that one and my ears hurt only slightly less. Some last announcements were made and the floor was opened up to all to dance. Which was great, except we hadn't eaten yet. I was hungry enough to eat the aforementioned cuy. Dinner was not served until one in the morning, after which the party continued until 3, which is just plain nuts in my book. Also just as nuts was the garter tradition. Every single one of the young men had to put a garter on his partner, as high as she would let him. Some of these kids were 13 years old. I mentioned to my friend that my future daugter(s) will not be having a quinceañera until she is twenty. At that time she will wear shorts under her dress, and dinner will be served in the P.M. rather than the absurd hours of the A.M. The veinteañera will soon be the next big thing in America- you saw it here first!

The Quinceañera herself.....awww....

"I like cake."

Me and my friend, she's the sweetest girl you'll ever meet.

A Night in Ecuador

A night out with friends is very different here in Ecuador. In the United States one might call up some friends, agree to meet at the local Taco Bell for some quality fake Mexican food*, and perhaps go see a movie afterwards. You know what makes this blithe attitude possible? Cars. Very few of my friends actually own one. You know what else makes it possible? Time. Or rather, the fact that time is regarded as a valuable commodity in the United States and not something to be wasted. If you and all your friends agree to meet at the Chuck E. Cheese's at 8'oclock, everybody is there by 8:30. Here it is quite literally expected that you arrive hours late. "Come to my house at 2" translated into Spanish, and then back into English comes out as "feel free to pass by my house when you feel so inclined, but not before 3". I do not exaggerate.

Thus, I left my house around the time my friend told me she would be starting the movie that we would be watching, knowing full well that nobody else was at her house yet. Taking the bus to the terminal hub, I grabbed a taxi. Now, let me explain that I only have five months here in the city and as there are so many barrios it is impossible for a wayward Gringo such as myself to know them all. I often rely on the taxi drivers to get me to where I need to go. So when the taxi driver told me that yes, he did know how to get to Sauces 9, Manzana 563 I believed him. He lied. We made it as far as 565 before he gave up and told me it had to be around there and then dumped my on the corner.

I spent the next hour wandering around the hills of Sauces 9, which is one of the most dangerous of the Sauces and also one of the more dangerous barrios in the city. I forgot my cardinal rule of finding an address in South America. Ask three people how to get there, then follow what the majority says. Actually, my cardinal rule is to use Mapquest but that doesn't really work down here. I miss my Mapquest. At one point I was talking to a butcher surrounded by rotting meat and he pulls out this old, bloody map of the area. I followed his directions and got lost even deeper inside Sauces 9. Manzana (court) 563 was nowhere to be found, and if the high number is any indication there are a heck of a lot of manzanas around here, all made up of squat concrete buildings that appear to be the same. In neighborhoods like this signs are rarely used. After the fifth local pointed me in a completely opposite direction I gave up and stumbled onto a main street, then called my friend to come get me.

Funny thing is, even though I was an hour late, I was still the first person to arrive. The next three hours waiting for people to show up were spent desperately to understand Ecuador's unique flavor of ghetto Spanish. It was a special kind of hell for me. I'm not anti-social but I've never considered talking for hours to complete strangers a good time.

Unfortunately, the relaxed atmosphere of South America and the propensity for people to show up late lends itself to this sort of activity. People can spend all day, sitting around, chatting about nothing while I slowly lose my mind. In fact, the previous weekend was spent with this same friend's parents with whom I chatted for six straight hours. A better description would be they talked at me and allowed me to listen, but not speak. Turns out Cuba has a thriving economy and Fidel is a pretty OK guy.

So, the moral of the story is buy a car and have loads of free time. Even though I only have one of those two I still enjoyed the night overall. The movie was entertaining and the people good folks. Ironically, the television we used to watch the movie was damaged so the bottom of the screen fuzzed out...meaning nobody could read the subtitles. I was the only one who understood the movie.

*Taco Bell has some of the best food this planet has to offer, don't deny it. My sources tell me that there is a T.B. around here and I am diligently looking for it. The bang for your buck of that place is unmatched- just two fully loaded burritos and you've already exceeded your calorie needs for the entire day! Talk about nutritional value!
And the taste leaves nothing to be desired. A pile of smashed pinto beans, ground beef, and thick cheese, all drowning in fire sauce and tightly wrapped in a flour tortilla? Yes, please! If that description did not make you feel hungry, there is something wrong with you.

Cultural Differences: Part II

Another incident where the Gringo-Ecuadorian cultural rift was exposed happened while I was on a tour of Guayaquil with a bunch of Gringos and a tour guide from the university. It's ironic, that after four months in the country and countless trips to Guayaquil I finally get invited to a "welcome to Ecuador tour". I never even had the tiniest amount of orientation and these new Gringos were getting a freakin guided tour, I just happened to be nearby when they were loading up the bus and got invited along. Granted, I had never really needed much in the way of orientation and these Gringos will only be here for a month but it would have been a nice gesture. My motivation for going on a tour of a city I already know was probably made up of equal parts Resentment and Boredom. Not that the trip helped with either of these.

My displeasure aside, the trip turned out to be just what I thought it would be- boring. We did, however, pass by a small barrio hospital station where one of the Gringas would be volunteering her time. Small as a trailer and half as sturdy, this structure was not the kind of place you want your family to get medical treatment in. It was run-down, disorganized, and dirty with a poorly trained staff. But, I suppose, that is better than nothing. The tour guide introduced the Gringa that would be working there to the director and added that she had been there the year before. He studied her a bit before he realized that he did in fact remember her. Seeing this, the tour guide explains "she has changed a bit over the year, she has gotten much fatter". The director nods in acceptance of the explanation but of course the entire room full of Gringos explodes into laughter as the poor girl turns beet red. Realizing his mistake yet not understanding the magnitude of it the tour guide tries to pass it off explaining to the girl "you're fatter, but it sounds much better in Spanish, really..." This did not ease the situation in the slightest. I tried not to laugh but it was so funny.

Moral of the story- calling someone fat in Ecuador, or all of South America for that matter, is not an insult. If you are the slightest bit overweight or even just thick expect to get called la gorda from time to time. Heck, even I've been called fat and I've lost weight!

Cultural Differences

A recent incident has stood out in my mind as the moment where the gap between Ecuadorian and Gringo cultures was at its greatest. It happened at the dinner table. The family I live with and I were making light conversation while eating seco de pollo, everyone winding down after a hard day in our various jobs and studies. One of the sons of the family who happens to be just about my age decided to tell a joke. The joke goes as follows-

Three ladies were talking about husbands and how difficult it is to get them to help out around the house. One is from Peru, the other from Argentina, and the last from Ecuador. The Peruvian lady says to the others "It is so hard to get my husband to do anything. Last week I asked him to do the dishes. The first day, I didn't see anything. The second, I didn't see anything. But on the third day I woke up to find him in the kitchen, washing the dishes." All of them are very impressed. The Argentinian lady thinks of a story, and says "well, last week I asked my husband to clean the bathroom. The first day, I didn't see anything. The second either. But on the third day, I woke up to the sound of my husband scrubbing the toilet bowl." They all agree that her story is quite amazing and the Ecuadorian begins to think hard of what she can say. She begins with "I've got a story too. I once asked my husband to take out the garbage. The first day, I didn't see anything. The second day, I didn't see anything. But on the third day, I woke up to find the swelling had gone down and I could open my eyes a little!"

Ha-ha?

When I heard that joke told at the dinner table, I was in shock though everybody else around me was laughing their heads off. This family is a very conservative, well-to-do and mannered people. The only reason a joke like this would be received so well is because it is true. Ecuadorian guys are definitely into the whole macho thing. Having a wife and kids certainly doesn't prevent one from having a few peladas and perhaps even some kids with them too. Beating one or all of your partners is just par for the course. No wonder so many girls I've talked to say they prefer men from other countries.