100 spf: Julia's Peace Corps Ecuador Blog

Where to start. It's been 12 days, so I apologize for the length of this post. I am going to label this blog post, "Lessons Learned the Hard Way" because that seems to be the persistent theme. Last week was not terribly eventful. During the week we had all kinds of interviews -- technical, medical, and spanish. I say it was during the week, but somehow mine all landed on the same day. They were each about 30 minutes. The medical and technical interviews were fairly easy. The main question I struggled to answer during the technical interview was something along the lines of, "where do you see yourself after training?". You would think I'd have a better grasp on where I'd like to be placed and what I'd like to do... guess I don't. I've truly tried to come into this experience without any expectations, particularly considering all the setbacks I've faced with regards to PC over the past year and a half (e.g. budget cuts, program cancellations, etc.) The spanish interview was a whole different story. My brain was exhausted (to say the absolute least) for the rest of the day. I am not positive to the exact number, but I am pretty sure I said "um"/"uh" upwards of 200 times during the interview. They recorded the whole thing. I feel bad for the trainer who had to re-listen to that clumsy, mumbling mess of a "dialogue". It made me quite conscious of the exact degree of my ineptitude when it comes to the spanish language.

Friday May 25 was a holiday (the day marked the end of the war for independence with Spain), so we did not have any classes. A group of us decided to make the trek into Quito. We made the trip without much of a plan, figuring a couple of tourist books would guide us. Still not quite sure if that was such a great idea, but it made for a fairly interesting trip. Once we made it to Rio Coca station, we were not positive which bus would take us into Colonial Quito. We were pointed in the right direction by an attendant at the bus station. However, that "right direction" had about 2-3 buses in the vicinity. We hopped on one, not quite positive where it was taking us. As we were driving through the city we (I'll take the blame for this) realized, "Shoot! We are in the north part of the city. I think we are on the wrong bus!" One or two of my fellow travelers were in accordance, so the plan was to hop off the bus. First lesson learned, Ecuadorian bus drivers close their doors VERY quickly. Chris was the only one that was able to get off in time. We looked on concerned as he walked along the side of the bus as it pulled away. The locals pointed and laughed. In hinde sight, I felt bad/stupid about this. Quito is long and skinny city. We were traveling from Tumbaco, which is a suburb north of Quito. Therefore, we had to travel through the north part of the city to get to the more southern colonial part of the city... oops. But, since that day, I have seen this same thing (the doors shutting between a group) happen to locals. Also, it wasn't a big deal because the next bus stop was only three blocks away, so we got off and met Chris. As well, we weren't exactly sure which bus stop was best for La Plaza Grande, so we figured we'd need a cab regardless.

This is were the second lesson learned comes in. The first group easily haled a cab, while we (the second group) struggled to wave down another. Nothing like sprinting across a six lane highway three times to get the adrenaline pumping. At least we earned it. We were finally able to capture a cab driver's attention from across the highway. We sprinted across, yet again, and hopped in. We immediately inquired about the cost of a ride to La Plaza Grande. "Immediately" was not fast enough. Despite the working, yet inactive, distance clock at the front of the taxi, he answered.. "uhh hmmm uuhh four dollars". Sounds pretty close to an exact science, right? Four gringos + already in the moving taxi + speaking english amongst each other = cab ride 4x more expensive than it should have been. To give a vague reference, the bus we got off which would have taken us to La Plaza Grande, costs 25 cents. More lessons = negotiate before you get into the cab and don't speak english. Despite the costly drive, we arrived safely at La Plaza Grande. We wandered around for a few hours, taking in the local culture. We were even able to witness a portion of the Holiday Parade; it was quite impressive. After a long day, we quite easily returned to our homes in Tumbaco via public transit.

On Monday, we split up into groups and traveled to different towns/cities to implement the new PACA tools we'd learned. PACA stands for People Against Cat Attacks. Just kidding, it's participatory something other, but my book is too far away (on the other side of the room) and I'm a bit too lazy to get it. Essentially, they are some tools PC taught us that will help us get a better understanding of our respective sites when we arrive in a few months. They include tools called a community map, a community clock, a gender matrix, and FREESOP. They will help us get a feel for concepts such as what the city looks like for different genders, which resources are most useful, and where people are when/what they are doing on an average day. My group travelled to Guangopolo, a small town of about 3,000 twenty minutes outside of Tumbaco. When we arrived, we immediately got to work attempting to map the town. Eventually, we met with the president of the parroquial. He showed us around and provided us with a great deal of information about the town. After lunch, we broke up into our respective spanish groups. Side note: There are three levels with three subgroups... novice, intermediate, and advanced. Within each of these levels there is bajo, medio, and alto. I will be doing my spanish classes with Gabo and Mando throughout training. We were each placed in intermedio medio with our wonderful trainer, Diana. She is great, particularly because she puts up with my crap. I'll let you know exactly how long that lasts. Once we completed studying some spanish vocab for our ensuing trip to the market on Friday, we were thrown into the deep end without our swimmies. We each had to go out, on our own, to interview a man, a woman, a girl, and a boy. While it was a bit difficult, it provided me with confidence. Believe me, it could have gone MUCH better, but at least I know I can fare on my own (well, somewhat).

On Tuesday, we just had regular classes so that is unimportant. However, at the end of the day the gardening club commenced. There is a current agriculture volunteer staying in Quito that is planning to spruce up the training center garden, while he is available. Thus, he invited us to join and pick his brain regarding his agriculture experience. He seems to have endless useful information. I wish he were going to be around longer than two more weeks. During this quite educational session, as we were walking over to the worm pit, I decided to hop onto the tire swing. You know, just for a very brief swing as we crossed the yard. Next thing I know, two others have jumped on the swing and someone else is screaming, "PAAAYYBACK!!". Payback?? What? What for??! Now we are rapidly spinning. I find myself falling off because I had not braced correctly for the spinning. So I jumped. Before you judge, let me explain. I knew I was going to fall off. I didn't want to fly into the huge wooden poles that held the swing up (that damn centrifugal force), and I figured my back and head would have taken the brunt of the fall had I not jumped. Instead of finding myself bracing for a rough landing, I rammed into Mondo. Luckily, the contact between my nose and his elbow slowed my crash to the ground. As I lay there with my watery eyes closed, using my tongue to check to make sure my two front teeth were still intact and wondering if my nose was broken, I couldn't help but think how I always get myself into these situations (e.g. my amazonian stitches). Luckily, my teeth were still in place and my nose was not broken. My face is yet to feel 100%, but the scenario could have resulted in a much uglier manner. Lesson: I'm not invincible, nor am I 12-years-old anymore, oh and if someone is yelling "PAYBACK!" I'd better prepare myself.

On Wednesday, we took a trip into Quito. Our trainers wanted to examine our behavior on public transportation, as well as show us how to get to the Peace Corps office. We took a tour of the center and we were introduced to many of the people that make our Peace Corps experience possible. As well, we got a few more good stories from Parmer over my first delicious cup of fresh Ecuadorian coffee. (Side note: they make really good coffee here, but I am under the impression it is not very popular. Therefore, we regularly drink Nescafe instant coffee). After a morning at the Peace Corps office, we split up into groups and dispersed throughout the city. My group voyaged to the Itchimba Park. We walked around for a half hour or so. Then we descended the mountain to discuss our observations over coffee an ice cream in a small cafe.

On Thursday, a few of us played soccer after classes. The scene after we all got let our of our classes was quite funny. It looked like middle school recess... Some were playing frisbee, some were trying to knock down the frisbees with mops, some were playing soccer, some were playing on the tire swing, etc. We were using all of the fun toys the training center had to offer. Best of all, there is a badass zip-line on the edge of the garden in the training center. I watched my friends fly by, one-by-one with a sentiment of delight that I can only remember having during childhood. As Tuesday's snafu flashed through my mind, I struggled with the dilemma... Should I be mindful of my lesson learned from Tuesday or do I give in to my desire to be a true youngster again? Obviously, I chose the latter. However, is it bad to say I was a bit disappointed watching each of my friends zip by unharmed. As my turn came near, I knew if they didn't get hurt, than I would be the one. Someone had to get hurt right? Now that is a mainly joke, but there may or may not be some truth to it. We all zip-lined safely that day. No one got hurt. I only went once, considering it a success, I decided not to push my luck.

Now comes Friday. If you're still reading, Congratulations! You've made it! The last day of my looooong post. Yesterday, we took another trip into Quito. Essentially, the goal was to teach us how to haggle in a open market. We split up into groups and travelled to the open markets throughout Quito. Supposedly, the one we went to was one of the best. However, I would not be surprised if the trainers were just telling us that. I bought leeches, chirimoyas, and some tree tomatoes (these were for my family to make juice). We were each supposed to get one fruit (or food) in particular, so that we could describe it to our classmates. The person to correctly guess the fruit/food would receive it as a prize. I won some fresh mantequilla de mani (peanut butter) and a granadilla (my faavvvorite fruit). Around 3:30 the shopping and guessing game had commenced and it was time to head home. We stopped at a gas station for some to use the bathroom. After being there for 5-10 minutes, our trainers told us we'd be taking taxis to the bus station. We each piled in to different cabs and proceeded to drive maybe a block or two to the next bus stop. I was quite confused. I come to find out, a group of men had been eying us. By the time we'd gotten into the taxis, two of them were up the street a bit behind us and the other three were in front of us, where we were headed. They had been showing some blatant signs that they were about to rob us. Luckily, thanks to the trainers, we got out of there just in time. It was a loud wake-up call. Lesson learned: Bad things can happen at any time. I really need to make sure I am always on guard and aware of my surroundings. As well, I need to refrain from behaving in ways that could bring unwanted attention to myself and my gringo friends. I am hoping with time, I will be more privy to the clues, so that I can escape situations like this when I am on my own.

I've attached some photos below. They are from our trip to Quito.

On the bus to Quito. I call this picture "ambivalence".