Falling on Dogs

I have a new friend. She is probably the most innocent person in all of Ecuador and a so sweet you'll get a toothache just talking to her. Text messages from her are always in English and always funny, here's a more recent one, word-for-word, errors and all. She does speak surprisingly good English but...there is definitely room for improvement.

Today is such a horrible day, the bus i had to take didn't stop, an old man yelled me, and i fell on a dog in front of a lot of people! I'm not going to encourage u a lot to this...but have a nice day jaja there's always someone who's worse than u jaja

When I first received this message, I could not stop laughing. How does one fall on a dog? I messaged her back to find out. She replied with this-

I didn't see it! I fell over with someone's leg and that poor animal was in front of me and PLAS!!! No one helped me, everybody was making fun of me =<

In South America words to describe crashing, hitting, or dropping something are different from those used in the United States. I would call them comical. PLAS!!! definitely fits that description as do some others. My favorite, though, is "DOOKETY!". A man may be describing how a car ran over his friend by using this word yet I will still laugh like crazy. I mean, how does any boom, bang, crack, or clank make a sound like "DOOKETY"? Really, I want to know.

On a more serious note, it seems my friend was holding a human leg when she fell. Guess she's not the sweet little bundle of innocence I thought she was.

Last Zula

Warning: More gruesome pictures of food preparation in Zula are in this post. Really gruesome. If you are a farmer this post will not affect you at all and you may find it boring. But I'm from the suburbs, dangit, and this is all new to me.

So, I've dredged the bottom of my photo collection from Zula and found a whole slew of pictures I had not posted yet. They all involve the preparation of the pig, the main feast. That pig was tasty. Too bad I was sick and couldn't really enjoy it.

It's Babe! Or Wilbur! Either way it's a tasty meal. He is smiling in this picture, blissfully unaware of his fate. It makes me feel a little pang of guilt that I'll be eating fried Pumba in a couple of hours.



Poor pig, he died for a good cause. This is the first time I've ever really seen how they clean an animal. The thing that impressed me the most is that pigs are ALL stomach, I swear half their body weight is intestines.

A Break From Zula

I think we've all had enough of Zula for now, I'll let the posts with dead animals and Indians continue after this brief respite. My final exams are over but I do not have the grades of my classes yet. I am scared. All were fairly easy- except my freakin' Socioeconomics in Ecuador class. First of all, I do not understand Ecuadorian names and much less crazy-long ancient Indian names, of which I had to learn many in that class. It goes both ways though. When I tell people here my name is Anthony, they get confused. What the heck is Anthony? Is he trying to use some English word? Perhaps he did not understand my question of "como te llamas?". I can repeat it a few times but it will not matter. If I say "An-to-ny" then they will get it, as that name is more common here. If they still do not understand, I just tell them to call me Antonio. It is real fun when they ask for my last name, as it begins with an S, hah! Most have to put an E in front of it to pronounce it.

So when the teacher in my Socioeconomics class was throwing around these Indian names like Ataualpa and Casicazgos and such, it slowed me down. I had to ask him to write the names down on the board. Also, he would forget that I'm a Gringo and everything he was talking about was new to me. He would breeze by descriptions of Indian tribes and modern politics in Ecuador saying "...but you already know all this." No, I don't already know this. I've never even heard about this. You see, Mr. Teacher, I come from another country called the United States and in this country, nobody knows Ecuador exists! I know, crazy huh? They don't teach us anything about your politics, Indians, or how every politician in the history of your country has stolen money and then taken a big crap on your flag on their way out.

That bit about the politicians didn't come from me, it came from him. He seemed slightly depressed as he talked about how each and every president has stolen money and enacted laws that have damaged the country. Heck- even the ancient Indians found new and creative ways to lose to the Spaniards, when they outnumbered them 10,000 to 1. At my present state of intellect and with the studies I have done thus far, I am 100% sure I could be a better president for Ecuador than any they have ever had. Their first president was from Peru, and another was even born in New York, why not me? My religion and my own morals prevent me from stealing money and crapping on flags. Ecuador would be an island of stability and prosperity in a sea of Latin turbulence.

The Sierra is Cold

Yes, it is true. There exists in Ecuador not only the scalding heat of the coast where I currently dwell, but a freezing climate high in the wind-swept mountains of the sierra. Such a wide variety of pain, in a country the size of Colorado! An earlier version of myself would have jumped at the chance to get out of the heat. Indeed, I did laugh when my host family told me Zula would be cold, even for a gringo. Cold? Hah! I come from Chicago, we own cold. As its masters, we let it roam free for half the year and sometimes more. And my host family wanted me to take a coat. A coat! Who the heck brings a coat to Ecuador?

As it turns out, I made a grave miscalculation. The extreme altitude, searing wind, and arctic temperature combined to form a type of Axis of Evil whose united purpose was to make me feel like crap. They succeeded, in part. I spent my nights unable to sleep due to the change in pressure. My mornings were spent wishing my stomach pains would leave so I could actually eat something. The evenings were spent looking for additional clothes to put on. By stealing clothes from random people I was able to cobble together an outfit that made me look like a sad Christmas tree---a green hat, red scarf, and over sized jacket that wasn't nearly thick enough.

The cold found the prospect of tormenting an unprepared gringo much more appealing than its failed attempts to pierce the stone skin of the local natives. That is why it followed me. I know this is not usually possible but this chill wind born in the harsh mountains of the sierra seemed to have developed an evil intelligence. It jumped on my head and made me wish I was born without ears. It tried to gnaw off my face by freezing portions so they were digestible. It followed me into the bathroom when I was most vulnerable. Showers were impossible. I'm surprised the water could be at that temperature and still hold its liquid form! Sometimes I would feel the wind whipping at my eyes and making them water, only to realize they were tears. Perhaps I was mourning the slow death of my fingers? Using my keen survival skills I was able to steal mittens. This served the dual purpose of completing the outfit of the Dorkiest Gringo in Ecuador and saving my fingers, for which you should be grateful as I'm using them to write this blog for you.

I Can't Take Heat, Getting Out Of Kitchen

My roommate Paolo and his enamorada Joana took me to a club in the rich north side of Guayaquil a while ago. It was really a lot of fun. I'm not a dancer by any means but I do like to go out clubbing. Sadly, I'm pretty sure others find my dancing a painful experience. The club we went to is called Diesel. If you ever find yourself in Ecuador and need a good club to hit up, try it. Music is good, the bar is free (after you pay to get in of course), and the various rooms with either dance floors or couches is a nice touch. The main floor was packed full and bodies were everywhere with little space to move or actually dance. Now, this normally would not deter me but this night it didn't even cross my mind- beautiful Latinas with long, black hair and were everywhere!

I made a miscalculation. Believing that my exotic gringo appeal would conquer all, I began to dance like an ADHD child locked out of the bathroom. The club's sweltering atmosphere and my own unfortunate propensity to perspire combined to extract every drop of moisture in my body and convert it into sweat. I often soak through my shirt here in Ecuador but this time I somehow managed to sweat through my pants and socks as well. It was not pretty. Girls started refusing to dance with me and would even advert their eyes in horror. They must have thought that dancing with me could only end in their testifying to American embassy officials in the inquiry over my death. I really can't blame them. While my luck with the girls was nowhere to be found at that club, the next club I would go to was something completely different...

Snail Lotion

The only interesting thing that happened today was a commercial I saw on TV while taking a bus across town. It started out as your typical, run-of-the-mill lotion ad featuring beautiful women rubbing lotion into their skin, acting like it was the most excitement they have had all year. The lotion was called Elion or something, I wasn't really paying attention. But I sat bolt upright when a giant snail crawled onto the woman´s hand and then looked at the camera. That´s right. This cream is made with snails. The reason the ad gave was ¨snails make their own shells¨ and thus have regenerative capabilities. Apparently snail slime can also make you regain your youth, lose fat, and is the key to rejuvenating your skin. Snails and women talked and slithered their way through the rest of the ad, with a giant brown snail crawling across the screen to finish it off.

Now, I don´t use lotion. But if I did, I certainly would not slop snail slime all over my skin just because some ad´s perverse logic said it´s good for me. Instead of smooth, supple skin I´m afraid I would end up with crunchy snail-shell skin.

A Day in Ecuador

Today was a very typical day for me. I do not start classes until May 2 and being new to the country I have no friends; this makes for lots and lots of free time. So I decided to take a trip downtown to pick up an envelope that had arrived in the mail.

Downtown Guayaquil is quite nice. I consider it to be a very clean and safe place, and not crowded at all. However, my time in South America has been largely spent in Caracas, Venezuela. A city so dirty, so crowded, so dangerous that it has the most murders of any city in the world. In fact, I recently found out that they won´t even report the exact numbers anymore, it´s just that bad. So it´s safe to say I have been tainted. What seems surprisingly clean and orderly to me would probably make the average gringo run to the nearest American embassy in a panic.

I got a ride downtown and was therefore able to avoid the hassle of taking a bus. Walking along the streets, I was able to pick up a nice snack of cheddar chips and a bottle of water. Total cost- .55 cents. After picking up my envelope some random guy on the street came up to me. At first I thought he was a beggar, judging by his ripped t-shirt and haggard appearance. Turns out he just wanted to talk. He had lived in the United States before and spoke a surprising amount of English. He figured- I´m a gringo, he´s lived in my country before, we should be friends! That´s how a lot of people are around here. Very friendly and talkative, I like that.

As I´m typing this I just realized he IS a beggar. He was eating a piece of bread out of a trash bag and when I asked him where he lived he said I could always find him around those particular streets, dodging the question. I now feel very dumb. Poor guy, he went from living in the Land of the Free to begging in the streets all day in the Land of the Very Angry Sun.

After the beggar I hopped on the Metro-Via bus which took me to the Terminal. For those of you who have never been down south the Terminal is always the place to find a bus to anywhere in the country. It took me a while to figure out how the system worked but I found my bus, paid my .25 cents, and hopped on. I was going to take the bus home but then I figured I would stop at an internet cafe, or ¨cyber¨as they are called here. Looking at the little box at the top of my screen I see that I owe almost $5. I have been here a long, long time. I wish I could just book out of here and not pay it. Sometimes having morals sucks.

My Grandfather is Nuts

This morning he woke me up with the usual Ecuadorian music. Very happy stuff, some lady singing excitedly with a lot of trumpets. Not appropriate for a morning wake up call in my opinion. When I commented on the music he began another one of his monologues, this time about how everyone should be healthy and how his compadre Don Miguel (he is the owner of the mammoth concrete building in which I stay) needs to lose weight.

Apparently, my grandfather thought he could help Don Miguel to lose weight by instructing him to listen to this happy Ecuadorian music and dance. Keep in mind that my grandfather is 79 years old and his compadre just 2 years younger. My grandfather demonstrated his last point by dancing in a jerky, vigorous fashion swinging arms and legs everywhere. Being semi-lucid and tired, this was freaking hilarious to me and I could hardly keep from laughing.

I´m a Power Ranger

So I was getting ready to eat dinner with everyone yesterday when another relative showed up. I don´t remember her name (I never do), but I know she was a foreign exchange student in Germany for a while. She brought her two kids with her, one boy and one girl. Both tiny little things with squeaky voices. I love to hear little kids talk in Spanish, they sound so cute and funny. When I finally find my Shakira and settle down, we will have no less than 5 offspring and they will all speak Spanish.

Anyways, at the start of dinner I noticed the little boy staring at me. After a while of this wide-eyed stare he called his mother over. Then wrapping his tiny arms around her head he pulled her down to his level so he could whisper in her ear. I knew he was talking about me, but what manners! When I was a child I would always ask why someone was so fat, loudly and in a piercing high voice. My poor parents :(

When the whispering had stopped I asked his mother if he found my accent strange and was curious. She replied that no, he was just awed that a Power Ranger would eat dinner with them. That is awesome! I was kind of flattered, though I hate the Power Rangers as does anyone over the age of twelve. Yet they are superheroes in the eyes of children. Granted, any other blondish American would be mistaken for a Power Ranger but still!

Another interesting tidbit I found out about has to do with the German girl that came to Ecuador as part of the same student exchange. They told me she was a very white girl, perhaps even whiter than my own deathly pale skin, though I find that hard to believe. She tried to get a tan. The result was 2nd degree burns all over her body and a forced trip back to Germany to heal. So when I mention the heat and sun this charred land has, know that I speak the truth.

The smallest bathroom in the WORLD.

Lately I've been jumping through a lot of hoops just to get my proper identification cards and open up an Ecuadorian checking account. Perhaps I'll detail the excruciating process in another post but for now let me just say that getting anything done in Ecuador that involves the government is a fool's task. Or maybe an unemployed person's task. They do not make it easy for you.

So, I was on one of my many journeys through various government buildings when I realized I needed to use a bathroom, badly. Readers beware: this is a story about a bathroom, there will be bathroom humor in it. The building I happened to be in was very large and must employ a couple thousand government workers. I figured that they would have at least one bathroom for the public. I was right but the bathroom I found can hardly be classified as such. I have never seen even a closet this small.

Inside I found a sink and toilet in bad condition. The sink juts out over the toilet and almost to the wall, I had to squeeze past it and could barely do so. The toilet is tiny. A fat man trying to use this bathroom would have to be pried out of it using the jaws of life. Standing up to use the toilet (and I wish that was all I needed to do) would have been impossible. There was so little room to move I had to unbuckle my pants with just one hand and use my new friend gravity to get them down. Then, in an Olympic feat of dexterity and skill swing myself around the sink and onto the toilet. This process was much harder to repeat in reverse. There was no soap to be found in that bathroom, only the household cleaner Ajax, so I used that instead. I find myself wondering what the architect was thinking when he drew the plan for that bathroom. Probably he realized too late the building did not have a public bathroom and took a small chunk out of some one's office to make one. No human being would do that on purpose, would they?

Soccer in Ecuador

Last night I went to a soccer game. I figured it would be a good time and it's somewhat of a requirement for living in South America. I had been to soccer games in the United States as well as football, basketball, hockey and every other kind of sport so I figured this would be much of the same. Maybe the fans would be a little more rowdy?

I had no idea Ecuadorian soccer fans are raving, foaming-at-the-mouth insane and out of control. The stadium had a huge mesh covering over the entire field separating the stadium and the soccer field itself. As I learned later, this is a necessity. I doubt the opposing Brazilian team would dare enter the field without it. Police with automatic weapons and bullet-proof shields patrolled the grounds.

When the Brazilians entered the field, the fans went crazy. It was like a Two Minutes Hate. Complete with shouting obscenities and thrown beer bottles. Soon after, the President of Ecuador entered the field, which was quite a surprise. Apparently he is a fan of the team. People went nuts. Streamers were thrown through the mesh and onto the field. Fireworks and smoke bombs went flying into the mesh and into the stands. I couldn't tell if this was a show of support for the president or not. He quickly walked off the field followed by a hundred police and just as many reporters. This wild scene was repeated every time a goal was scored. Despite the collective will of the entire stadium, Ecuador lost. They took it pretty well though, everybody left singing fight songs and drinking beer.

Ecuador is hot.

Yes, it's true, I've arrived! The flight here took about 12 hours including all the delays. This city is much like Caracas in Venezuela, where I lived for 2 years as a missionary. The streets are a bit cleaner, but the buildings are crumbling, the sidewalks are crumbling, everything is in bad shape if you compare it to the United States. But I'm okay with that. The city is fun and crowded and as I'm typing this a group of loud protestors is marching by. All of their signs say something about Cono. I'm not sure what Cono is but it sure pissed these people off. Maybe the hot weather here just makes people angry. Heck, if Cono is another word for weather, I'd be protesting it too.

Seriously, it's freakin hot down here. I'm sweating so much, I'm afraid the torrents of liquid pouring off my body might short-circuit this computer. At least then they would have to get a new one, this one sucks.

Life here is definately a change of pace from Washington D.C. where I stayed a few days with my grandparents and my aunt Rosie. Rosie is handicapped and the sweetest person you will ever meet. Her mother (my grandmother) is an orchid freak. She even has her own greenhouse full of them. My grandfather is a good man, but tends to talk for an hour or so before he cares to listen to anything you have to say. I went on long walks with him and our conversations were basicaly his monologues. That week that I stayed in my grandfathers house was fun nonetheless.

Goodbyes

Yes, I really am leaving the country. Many people were shocked to find this out, and I can't
blame them. It's been a year since I began planning this and being a natural procrastinator I tend to do things at my own pace (slow). But everything is coming together and tomorrow I leave for Ecuador.

My goodbye gathering at Tsukasa was a lot of fun, thanks to all for coming. I really am going to miss you guys.