Catch-up time!

Hey! Sorry it’s been a while. Things before the holiday were a little busy, but it’s been a wonderful couple of months.

 

1. I still haven’t told you all about Thanksgiving. I made this beautiful turkey:

and proved to Europeans and Ecuadorians that American Thanksgiving is amazing:

I made a 14.5 pound turkey (which took 6 hours in my very slow oven), along with sweet potato casserole, garlic mashed potatoes/cauliflower, green beans with balsamic roasted onions, kale sausage apple stuffing, and a salad– all from scratch. Almost everything was gone in a matter of minutes. And then, in true Peace Corps fashion, we had a dance party. Super traditional Thanksgiving, obviously.

2. Two Christmases

First Christmas (Dec. 23) was complete with:

1 Duck (I traded English classes for a murdered, de-feathered, and gutted duck):

1 two- hour adventure of trying to refill a gas tank after hours to roast some veggies

1 absurdly expensive cake that took 6 hours in the oven, a month of feeding, and very impressive ingredient-procurement efforts:

4 unexpected guests and 1 excellent party.

Second Christmas (Dec 24): I went to Tumbaco to be with my host family. Host mom made the most delicious turkey I’ve ever had. Red wine and orange sauce. mmmmm….

3. Vacation on the Coast:

We had about 2 weeks off of school. It was amazing. I was greatly in need of a vacation. My reaction to almost any work was getting to be somewhere between:

and:

So I went to the Coast for 2 weeks:

Learning to enjoy semi-rocky beaches in Puerto Lopez. And look how much air there is at sea level!! I can breathe!

A small part of Los Frailes, often considered the best beach in Ecuador.

La Entrada, a friend’s lovely rural coastal site.

Visiting a mango farm, as part of a larger crazier adventure involving eccentric old people and silly cows:

btw, taking pictures in a stable should always be a closed-toe shoe activity. Learned that the hard way.

One of the eccentric old people in the mango story gifted me 4 sacks of mangos– around 300-400 mangos.

This was honestly one of the more mediocre dishes that I had on the coast, but it was still delicious. Coastal food was so incredibly tasty! So much fish and seafood! Coming back to  Sierran food was a bit of a struggle.

Now I’m back in Riobamba and back to work– which is good, but I’m already excited about more vacation.

Kitten!!

So, um, I have a cat now. Her name is Luna. She’s adorable, and affectionate, and a little mischief maker.

 

 

I wish I had more pictures of her, but she’s not super willing to sit-still. Also she’s way cuter in person.

 

So anyway, how did I come by this little fluffy one?

 

Cats are not so beloved in Ecuador. Little Luna here was gifted to a friend’s host family a few weeks ago. The family, well, especially the parents and the grandmother, hated the cat with a burning passion. They had some interesting ideas about cats as well. I.e. Cats will give you asthma, the family will become allergic to the cat as she grows, etc.

 

They officially started looking for a new home for her, but I was worried that they would chuck her out on the street any minute. I tried asking some other PCV buddies if they wanted her, but a lot of them still live with host families, and the host family’s reaction was somewhere along these lines:

The more I thought about it though, the more I wanted Luna. She’s playful, cute, low maintenance, and very lovable. Besides, a full-time animal might do me some good. Now, I’ll finally have someone to play Jenga with!

 

I picked her up yesterday, and the family made a show of how much they would miss the cat and how much they loved her. They told me to bring her around now and then. I don’t think they meant it, but they did send her to her new home with some rice, like any good ecua cat. Also, kitty really needs to be broken of her eating-people-food-off-of-plates habit. We’re working on it.

 

She is already such a fancy kitty for Riobamba. She has a real litter box with real litter, a food and water dish with real cat food and boiled water, nail clippers, and a hair brush. So fancy. On monday afternoon I’m taking her for her shots and to see what else she may need. Now I just need to find her a top hat and monocle, obviously.

 

 

Coming soon– a post about my first Ecua Thanksgiving (and my first turkey cooking experience!)

Sometimes…

Some days, being a Peace Corps Volunteer really sucks. Well, that’s not entirely fair. I mean, some days it’s awesome:

Some days it’s completely the worst (i.e. food poisoning)

Or the classic counterpart over-share:

Some days it’s kind of both at the same time:

Sometimes I get really sick of what I perceive as bad attitudes and general weirdness at work

and feel like the whole day is just going to be:

So, sometimes I go into work like:

 

because let’s be honest, personal growth (which is what I signed up for) is challenging, by definition. Sometimes that doesn’t feel so nice

Sometimes you get all Sebastian the Crab about it 

Sometimes you just want to make presentations like this:

But sometimes, sometimes, you realize you’re being kind of a jerk, especially when you have those great rare, rare moments that make everything worth it.

When my students prove that they’ve actually learned something:

and I actually feel like a real teacher for a minute (or like I’m doing a convincing job of faking it):

Or this weekend, when my landlord lent me the grill, and we had a barbecue:

 

Or the best yet– today, I had a really, really good workshop for about 40 teachers. We played Jeopardy to review TOEFL Speaking, which is my favorite way to do classroom review.
I’ve been working with them once a week now for about a month and a half. I’m really growing pretty fond of them. Today I found out they’re fond of me too!

They were being all weird about asking me what I do in my free time, and when they heard that I have friends that I do things with, they looked so relieved. One said, “hmm, how do you say ‘me alegra (I’m happy)… that you’re ok.’?” They care that I’m settling in!!

 

Busy Times

Sorry for the delay folks! It’s been a busy couple of weeks!

1) My beloved twin sister emailed me on a wednesday night that she got a new job. She had a week off in between the end of her old job and the start of her new one, plus a fancy new raise that, in my mind, was already burning a hole in her pocket. Thursday morning, I was looking at flights for her and working actively to get her on the same page with my crazy ideas.

By Thursday afternoon, she had purchased her ticket to Ecuador. Arriving on the following Wednesday. And leaving on Sunday. Looooocuras! I was so incredibly excited. Having family visit is a big deal. My host mom was super stoked, as were my counterparts, and the kids in my school. And me? Well, I was a little beyond myself. Firstly, I get to see my twin sister after 8 months of being away. Secondly, visitors from the States often bring extra special things.

Meaghan gets a treat? Meaghan gets a treat.

We were working on a very limited time frame, and very last minute, but we managed to squeeze in some pretty fun times. Unfortunately on Tuesday evening I ate some bad shrimp and had foul, foul case of food poisoning on Patti’s first day. I tried to take her to school, made it through the warm-up of my first class before I got kind of sweaty and weak in the front of the class. I got crazy sick and had to go home for a nap. However, my teachers were really excited about Patti’s visit. they had planned a welcome lunch, which was very, very nice of them.The thing is though that when you have food poisoning, it can be hard to down a platter of chicken and rice. Epic digestive fail #2 for the day followed.

With some quality rehydration and medicine that PC had me take, I was feeling much better by the evening though. Despite my improvement, my host mom expressly forbade me from going out to see some of my male friends. “Si, te has mejorado, pero Meaghan, you are not fine, y a los hombres no les gusta esto.” “Yes, you’ve gotten better, but Meaghan, you are not fine, and men don’t like that.” Sometimes (aka all the time) being a feminist in Ecuador is tough. She actually said the “you are not fine part in English.” So, we went out shopping for souvenirs and food for breakfast.
Host mom didn’t seem too mad though the next day that we had wound up at the bar after food shopping.

The next day Patti got to see a little more of the school and Riobamba. Friday was the real treat though. During the day, we went to check out some waterfalls a few hours outside of Riobamba, and in the evening there happened to be a little shindig at another Volunteer’s house. When my sister left, she said her favorite part of the trip was meeting my friends. Not surprising, as they are my favorite part of Riobamba, but it was really nice to share that part of my life.

2) Patti left Sunday morning at about 5 am. I slept for maybe 2 hours that night, and then commenced packing everything I own in Ecuador. Sunday was moving day. I lucked out and found a completely furnished apartment that had been rented out by PCVs for the past 3.5 years. It has everything and then some. It is the new light of my life in Riobamaba. I absolutely loved living with Eulalia. I couldn’t have had better luck living with her. She is so kind, so generous, and so understanding. I hope she continues hosting Volunteers. She’s just great at it.

All that being said, I’m a little drunk on the independence right now:

I’m so happy to have my own place that I don’t even mind cleaning it!!

3) As you may have gathered, it’s been a busy few weeks. I haven’t had the chance to sleep much, and I really like sleeping. I have that rough, tough Posh Corps life of full adventure (sister visiting, moving out, and this past weekend was a holiday so of course I went on vacation!). I visited little America again. Unfortunately the super nice hostel was booked and this one didn’t have such lovely showers. But check out these young clams!:

Even some pretty hiking in the rain:

I’m exhausted and so happy.

First Days back at school

School started last week monday. I haven’t taught any classes yet.

Also, a few weeks ago when I published a blog about not having too many wtf moments, turns out I spoke too soon.

Let’s start with two weeks ago Thursday:
We got word at the school, that the schedule was not set and that teachers would continue with the same schedule from last year (but only for a few weeks). We had yet to learn how many students we had enrolled or how many students would enroll. Some new reforms passed about how enrollment would be done and a lot was (and kind of still) was up in the air.

Last week monday:
I had a meeting at the local ministry of education extension. It was like black friday up in there. For the first time, parents had to enroll there first and be told which school to go to, instead of going to the school (from what I understand at least)…. Anyway, I don’t think they were expecting such a crowd.

Apparently the first day, the crowd broke the metal gate. From there on, they had a strong police presence. On monday, I couldn’t get in the front door and had to walk the long way around to the back gate. I was following a dirt path with an irrigation ditch and steep hillside, separating me from the ministry extension. I was just hoping that this dirt path eventually connected to where I needed to go. I eventually encountered some other people and asked if there was a bridge at any point. They told me that yes, there was, but there were police monitoring up on top of the hill and that I wouldn’t get through.
A little while later, I saw another woman who had crossed the ditch and was scaling the hill, clearing brush, jungle/machete style as she went. I wished her luck and told her about the police. Her only response to the police: “It doesn’t matter.” This was at 9am. People were already getting desperate.

I eventually got to the back gate, and white privileged my way in. (I.e. I’m clearly not an Ecuadorian mother looking to enroll my child. I’m there for a separate meeting to do with English-Language project development.) However, my Ecuadorian friend who was working with me was going to be left at the gate until our ministry contact came down to get her. #Inequality.
So I went up to get the coordinator, in very “ya mismo” fashion, it took us a good 15 minutes to get back downstairs. Things had gone from bad to ridiculous. Honestly I was a little frightened. I saw people pushing at the gates, and I’m frankly surprised that no one was trampled there that day (at least not that I heard about).

I went back there a few days later, and it was a much more relaxed environment (despite continued police presence). The school seems pretty normal now too, but still, I haven’t started teaching. I go everyday. I hang out. I make yummy snacks for my teachers and make friends with the janitors. I strategize for the coming year and relish my special ability to come and go as I please. I’ve been keeping extremely busy with other projects for the meantime. We’ll see where I go from here.

Random Summer Musings #2– Climbing El Altar

Unfortunately, there will be no pictures in this blog entry because my camera was destroyed after this trip and before I could upload any pictures. Now, let’s Tarantino this and find out how my camera met its end so early on in its life.

So about a month ago, 2 other Volunteers asked me if I wanted to join them on a weekend hike up El Altar, an extinct volcano near Riobamba. I hadn’t used my personal days yet that month, and those things are like Bluth Vodka

Use ’em, or lose ’em. Also, I had been looking to spend more time hiking and hanging out in the countryside. So I guess, this was a bit of go big or go home.

El Altar is a tough hike. It’s known for being muddy, even when it hasn’t rained recently.

I stole this picture from Google… mind you, this is the mud on a good day:

The weather had not been super promising before our trip, and when I went to rent rain boots (you have to do the hike in knee-high rain boots because of the mud), the guide highly advised me to hire a horse to take me and my bags up.

When we got to the park entrance, we asked the owner of the refuge how the trail was. All he said was “pretty muddy.” We decided to hire a horse for our bags and carry the necessary food with us. Turns out carrying peanut butter in jelly in the hood of your rain jacket is a not a great idea idea. The weight pulls the jacket up and sort of chokes you a bit. Plus, it’s a little gross and difficult trying to fetch something that’s fallen out of your hood and rolled down a slope of mud. Mind you, I went on my first hike ever at the age of 20. I’m fairly new to the whole thing, and while I’m eager to learn more and make more trips like this one. Dear God, I think I went a little far here.

The hike on a normal day takes 5-6 hours. It took us 7.5.I spent much of the time like this:

and when we finally arrived at the Refuge, I was trying so desperately to hide this attitude

behind some positivity. I had a snack, immediately put on about 5 layers of clothing (there’s just nothing you can do at 14,000 ft. You’re going to be cold).

Some other campers built a fire, and we set about making our dinner early. Unfortunately, these campers used all the available firewood. At this altitude, that stuff is in pretty short supply, but no matter, we had no plans to create a fire our second night.

Plans change.

The next morning we got up and prepared to hike up to the Yellow Lake (La Laguna Amarilla). The weather was even worse. I was exhausted. Also, none of us were very familiar with technical hiking terms in Spanish, so we may have gotten a little lost. I’m glad we did to be honest. The weird high altitude forest we got lost in, looked a lot like a set for The Chronicles of Narnia. At this point, I had to start to admit that this may just be the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

Our little day-hike only lasted a couple of hours, but by the time we got back to the refuge, it was really starting to rain. There was no way we were making it down the mountain the same day. We made lunch and went looking for a project. Given the freezing cold (we were hanging out in the kitchen, wearing several layers of clothing and blankets, but we could still see our breath), a fire was in order. However, almost all the usable firewood was used up the day before.

Fortunately, the other PCVs I was with, are super hard-core awesome wilderness friends. Also, PCVs tend to be rather persistent. These skills were highly necessary for Project Start-a-Fire-in-a-Blizzard. We found a huge warped piece of wood and a rusty saw. We got to work. One person sawing. Two people sitting on the beam so it wouldn’t move. Saving the sawdust, hoping it could help with kindling. We took some straw (now wet from the rain) and tried to dry it out on the stove (I can’t believe we didn’t burn anything down). Each of us took turns sitting inside the chimney, fanning flames, and getting frustrated.

Lack of kindling, lack of oxygen at high altitude, and excess of wind, rain, and SNOW at one point, certainly made for a challenge. But we did it!

(Well, mostly one of the PCVs with me, who was super ridiculously dedicated and wonderful did it, but still I’m proud of us.)

We spent the rest of the evening drying our clothes by the fire and checking out how incredibly beautiful El Altar was after the storm passed. I’m without words to describe it. I can’t imagine anything more beautiful- and there are no photos.

The next morning, we woke up before dawn and packed our bags by candlelight. We were determined to get to the first bus out. The first two hours of the hike were actually very pleasant, some of the best hiking I’ve ever done. The ground was still a little frozen, so the mud wasn’t too bad. However, after we passed through the midway point (a pasture that normally hosts bulls used for bullfights), all fun and games were over. The mud was… torturous.

I was definitely back to

except moving much, much more slowly. So maybe more like:

and getting closer to this every minute:

My sanity was near a breaking point. I was far behind my friends, who generously waited for me time and again. I was worried I wasn’t going to make it and considering my limited options when the resident badass PCV who finally got our fire going, found a beautiful short cut. It was almost straight down. I literally slid down a mud trail until we stumbled upon a steep grassy pasture. What a relief to actually walk again and not be pulling my legs out of mud with every step. (At this point, my entire legs were completely covered in mud. I also had mud on my hands, face, jacket, scarf, backpack, pretty white hat, etc.)

Thanks to this shortcut and the fearless leadership of my compañeras, we made it down in time for the first bus. I was concerned that I was too muddy to get on the bus, but I was also too tired to do anything about it. Even the most advanced hiker of us ended the hike saying, “El Altar is like childbirth or running a marathon. It’s so painful that you really can’t imagine doing it again for a long time.”

and I just sat there, like :

Once I stopped moving, it was game over. I had a hard time making it the few more steps to the bus. Also, the bus then told up they wouldn’t be returning to Riobamba we had been assured previously. They would only take us to the nearest village where we could look for a truck to hire.

Walking the 5 blocks from one PCVs house to mine had never been so incredibly painful. Each step hurt. When I got home, I took off my backpack, rain boots, and most of my clothes, leaving everything by our piedra de lavar, the rock we use to hand wash clothes. My stuff was too muddy for the washing machine. Mud had gone through/over the boots, hiking socks, leggings, and long johns to make my bare legs dirtier than they have ever been. A bar of soap was not sufficient to get the mud off. I needed to use an exfoliating scrub sponge.

My host family was so wonderful about this. They fed me a huge lunch, listened to my story, took out the splinter I had gotten the day before from cutting firewood, and the next day helped my wash my clothes…

However, the clothes washing help is where the camera was ruined. I had started washing my clothes early monday morning and was clearly doing a bad job because I have no idea how to hand wash clothing. My host mom does. She knows that you have to let things soak first.
I left to go to a meeting, and when I got home, my host family had put my backpack to soak. They had checked it before putting it in the water, and actually found some flip flops in there that I have been looking for since January. However, they missed the camera, which was hanging out in a sneaky little hip pocket. Camera destroyed. Pictures forever lost.

It was all worth it though. Because, now, after a month, this is how I feel about the trip:

Random Summer Musing #1– Community English Classes

Oh my, I’m sorry it’s been such a long time. Almost a month! Things have been a little crazy busy here (which is a very good thing), but it hasn’t allowed much time for a well-kept blog.

Anyway, here’s one of the random musings that I’ve been wanting to share with you all. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

1. So, when I signed up for Peace Corps, I guess I kind of imagined that everything would just be

all the time– or at least with great frequency. Well, thank god, that’s not really the case, at least not yet. I’ve been surprised by how infrequently I have little WTF moments. Chalk it up to a pretty good Spanish level, an urban site placement in Latin America, relatively good cultural training, or a good deal of past work and personal experience with Latino cultures? I’m not sure, but as a result, when something new comes up, it really comes up. My inner-thought process starts doing that annoying thing where everything ends with a question mark?

Example:

I’ve been trying to get some community English classes started for quite some time (since late April) with a local community organization for teens and adults in Riobamba that would run twice a week (mondays and wednesdays) . Classes were set to start July 1st. They didn’t. The start date got pushed back again and again every week– of course without any notice. Tipico. So I just wait in their offices for like an hour twice a week like:

(side note– always always always bring a book or a magazine with you.)

and the question starts to become not when are classes going to start, but rather, are classes going to start??

Finally, on July 24th I was quite sure that we were starting. For real this time. So I show up at the community org, and no one is there. The classroom isn’t set up.

I stand there for a while and the secretary finally comes down. Today she actually has news for me. We’re not starting the classes, but we’re having an inauguration today. All right, cool cool. I hadn’t thought of that but it sounds like a good, important thing to do.

Oh, and the class won’t be for adults and teens. It will be for children.

Oh, and it won’t be in Riobamaba. It will be a rural neighborhood  about 30 minutes away, but don’t worry, we’re going to get someone to pick you up and drop you off.

So, uh come back at 7pm, BE PUNCTUAL, and we’ll leave post-haste for the inauguration to arrive at 7:30!

All right, whatever. Let’s do this. So I go home, take a nap and go back to the community organization at like 7:15. We leave at 7:30 for this little party and get there a little before 8. Almost no one is there, except for a military band, hanging out in the street. At this point, I realize this shin-dig will be going on outside, and I start to wish I had worn a warmer scarf, and a hat, and gloves, and about 4 more layers.

The band starts playing, and some guy starts making the call for people of the town to come out and join this beautiful prestigious, glorious, (etc…. insert like 25 more excessive adjectives) event. At this point, the director of my organization is not there. In fact, only about 20% of the key players are there.

The band and the guy make like 10 more calls and we’re starting to develop quite a crowd. Eventually everyone gets there. (“There” being the main intersection of this pueblo that has not been blocked off officially so that cars keep driving directly to where we’re all hanging out and making a sharp turn to avoid hitting the podium– also, children are playing recklessly in this street; people are carrying dining room chairs out of their homes to set up on the street, and I see the most stray dogs I’ve seen since Tumbaco.)

so I think it’s safe to say, things are almost as weird as this GIF:

Eventually we start this presentation, and it’s not an inaguaration for the English classes!! It’s for local zumba classes!

The director of my community org, Maria, turns to me early on and asks me what my name is.

To be fair, she was only unsure of my last name– which she decided was too hard and gave up on pronouncing it. Whatever, I can’t really say here’s either, but this story gets weirder so stay with me.

When Maria (an excellent orator) gets up to make her speech about how imperative and beautiful these zumba classes are going to be, she throws in a part about the English classes (btw, in the series of speeches 3 different times were mentioned for the zumba classes, and no times were mentioned for the English classes). Gist of the English Classes announcement: “Meaghan, this Meaghan, her last name is very difficult. I can’t say it, but this Meaghan, is here to help us. She is from a DEVELOPED country, but she’s really nice, and she’s here to help us, which she can do, [simply] because she is from a DEVELOPED country. Meaghan! Stand up! [as if it wasn’t clear who the gringita was].” There is no more mention of the English classes.

So, things are a little awkward, but hey. Things finally wrap up, and I have no idea where to go from here…. Well, the military band starts to break it down with some folk Andean music. The town starts busting a move while a warm oatmeal drink and crackers are passed around. I decide to dance with everyone because people tend to think it’s pretty cute with the gringitos dance. This goes over well. By the end of the night, the town is now pretty excited about the English classes and asking all sorts of fun little questions like “can my 6 yr old come? what about my 15 yr old? Both are ideal candidates because they speak none point none English. What about my 4 yr old? No, I swear, it’s cool, she can walk so it’s fine.” “Can you come everyday?” “What’s the class limit? 50? 60?”– but I must stress things really did go well. At one point everyone was all “Viva Ecuador! Viva! Viva Riobamba! Viva! Viva Yaruquies! VIVVVVVVA! Viva Los Estados Unidos! Viva!”– #PeaceCorpsSecondGoaling.  I got a Viva! — Can I put that on my Volunteer Reporting Form?

Then I got invited to someone’s house to eat sliced bread and soft cheese and discuss a recent H1N1 outbreak in Ecuador (because everyone knows that H1N1 comes from the United States, duh).

And that was my Monday. The classes started the following week, but there was no one to take me there on Monday as promised, so classes started on Wednesday,  and the class days got changed (without asking me) to Wednesdays and Fridays. There is also no official end date to these classes, but I did get asked to judge a beauty pageant in this town in the end of September, so idk, who knows?

Cursos Vacacional– Summer School!!!!!

Last week, I faced one of my greatest professional challenges to date. I’ve been looking for summer activities to keep myself busy, and one of the centros de salud (like a med center?) asked me to help out with a summer course that they were working on. For the last week of the course, they wanted me to teach English. I was all like

Then they told me it would be about 60 kids, mostly aged 10, some younger, some older.

I avoided planning for a while because, ya know:

Eventually I put together some of the most dynamic lesson plans I’ve ever put together. This is the first time here that I’ve worked so diligently on material creation. The challenges were also some of the most significant I’ve faced here. I didn’t know what sort of resources (like a white board, markers, desks and/or chairs for the students) I would have— turns out I didn’t have any of those things. So it’s good that I didn’t plan on having them!

As it turns out, it was more like 30 kids (thank god!), but the age range was 4-16 years. So, hm, age appropriate activities…? The first day went pretty well. We worked on introductions, names, and feeling words. I taped up some huge, blank newspaper to the wall. It stayed up for about an hour before falling. The walls are made of tile, and with thirty or so little ones running around, breathing and whatnot, the walls get a little moist after a while and tape doesn’t stick. No matter though, we just moved on to a dynamic name game that they enjoyed.

The second day was a hot, hot mess. No one wants to learn stuff in summer. The just got off from school and really want a break more than a lesson. As I was teaching days of the week and whatnot, they just looked at me like:

I wound up throwing out the lesson plan I had for that day about half way through the class. We just played whatever game I could think of from that point on. Heads up, Seven up. Split/Splat. Eye Spy. lo que sea. 

I decided to throw out the other lesson plans I had and start over. The next morning I woke up at 4am and started making a lesson plan for Bingo with the vocabulary from the first 2 days. While I making 35 bingo cards by hand at about 5 am, I had a realization:

Lots of PCVs get  hung up on this attitude

and that’s easy to do. I’m a volunteer. Officially the work I do is for the benefit of others– a benefit that others receive at zero monetary cost to themselves. Low attendance or lack of participation in a workshop that I have spent hours preparing can be very discouraging. Additionally, cultural ideas about professionalism and priorities are very different. Misunderstandings are common for all PCVs and their counterparts. For example, attire:

Or when everyone is all:

As a volunteer, sometimes you just get a little:

Nonetheless, it has always bothered me hearing other Volunteers talk about how unappreciated they are. I get it mas o menos. (In saying this I have to acknowledge that I’m a new volunteer, and I’ve only had 3.5 months in site to get jaded.) I understand the feeling– and I’m sure it gets worse the more times that you are disappointed by  your efforts not being realized. I think we are all guilty of jumping to this conclusion before fully analyzing the situation from time to time.

Anyway, as I was sitting on a cold tile floor at 5 am making this silly little Bingo cards, I caught myself thinking that “these little hooligans better appreciate all the work I’m doing for them!” And then, right there I started to laugh. Because, yeah, these Bingo cards are for the kids to use, but the experience of being heavily invested in something bigger than myself and growing stronger from challenges I never would have faced at home– that’s for me. It’s an incredible opportunity for me that I’m so grateful to have…  So, who cares if some of the kids don’t care that I’m there? I’m learning either way. Also, some of the kids do care that I’m there. It’s a big deal for them that I’m there and that they’re in this summer course. I have a responsibility to them, and I couldn’t be prouder to face that responsibility head on.

Anyway, I digress. Bingo went well. Everyone loves Bingo so I was super pleased with Day 3.

Day 4 was a series of random games. They liked some and really didn’t like others. Also, did I mention that while I’m teaching English in this tiny room that looks very much like an old-school aslyum (seriously, turn the lights off in there, add a little dirt, and it could easily be the setting of Saw or some other equally terrible horror movies), that there is also someone making chocolates and someone else painting pretty jewelry boxes? Also, on the last day there was like a baby and a few toddlers there. Thus during games where I had them all up and walking around, I may have lost a few (or half) to the various other distractions of the room. It certain points it was just a mess,

but that day ended well with hangman– again, like Bingo– who doesn’t like hangman?

Day 5 was just a little party day to celebrate the ending of the course. I’m really glad I did this. I would absolutely love to do it again, but I’m so glad it’s over. This week has been very much beast mode:

And, well,

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In an unrelated note: Happy Birthday Mom!! Love you!

 

My Ecua 4th of July

It’s been an interesting past couple of days. I’ve had some low points, high points, and weird points for sure.  Last week Wednesday, I woke up feeling a little sorry for myself. A good friend finished her service and left Ecuador. My projects aren’t taking off very quickly, and I was just generally feeling a little down:

Fortunately, on Wednesdays I go to a rural neighboring town to teach a very loosely structured English class with another Volunteer. We had sort of vaguely decided that we were going to do a lesson on the planets. It was exactly the adorable hot mess that I needed.

When we asked the kids to label the planets in Spanish to see how much they knew, they rushed to the white board, and I can’t even pretend I had anything resembling classroom control for a few minutes. I told the other volunteer that this would resemble a good day at the high school. He just looked at me, slightly confused, and said “where the students have all gone crazy, and you’re holding a sleepy puppy?”. I had to clarify that I was just pleased with such a high level of participation (even if it was a bit of a mess at the moment). The little puppy I was holding was just a bonus. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to be sad while holding a sleepy puppy.

Later, when we were quizzing them on the English names for the planets, one of the kids exclaimed “yo, yo, yo! ya sí sé! [me, me, me! I know them!]… Mars, Hoopiter, Saturday….” I have to admit that I couldn’t keep a straight face for that one.  At one point, the class was even more of a Spanish lesson than an English lesson. When we asked “What do you call Mercurio in English?,” apparently our pronunciation was unacceptable, and the kids started slowly enunciating “Meeer-cuuur-E-O.” They didn’t see why that was humorous in English class. Also they called me “Senorita Meaghan,” which was just super cute.

Anyway, I left high-spirited and especially pleased because the fancy gringo mall is on the way home, and I had some shopping to do. I was on the hunt for ingredients for a 4th of July dessert. Blueberries were a lost cause, but I found strawberry applesauce there! It was actually made in Michigan, so I’m buying local?

After we finished shopping, we even got coconut soft-serve ice cream.

I stopped at a couple more markets on the way home because that’s just how grocery shopping in Ecuador works, and got started on thoroughly washing all fruits and veggies that I had purchased. Spinach (for what my counterparts later called an “exotic” salad), strawberries, blackberries, and blue-ish grapes (for a fruit pizza) all have a very bad reputation as higher than normal risk for amoebas.  However, my real surprise came while washing the cauliflower I bought.  When I came across a little worm crawling around in my food, I may have freaked out a little.

My host mom heard my scream, and asked, very concerned, if I had cut myself. I told her “No! Worse! So much worse! There’s a worm in my coliflor!” She laughed a little and took care of it while I just sort of awkwardly walked around the small kitchen. I’m still a new Volunteer, OK?

So with only minimal hiccups, I was able to prepare some pretty delightful treats for a Going Away party that we had for my  site mate at school on the 4th of July. It was of course a little bitter sweat for many reasons, but I’m glad I was doing something special on the 4th. Even though the party wasn’t specifically for America’s Independence Day, I took the chance to dress up a la the star-spangled banner, which was nice, but after the series of catcalls on the way to school (and at school), I remembered why I stopped doing that, trying to look nice that is.

I also learned that day that summer work is near impossible. It’s not actually summer yet, but, well, it might as well be. My host mom actually told me yesterday “Meaghan, you should just forget about working in the summer. It’s not going to happen.” So, that’s where work is at.  On the 4th, I went to talk to another school official about a secondary project and while no work was discussed, I somehow got roped into a really strange tango lesson? The school official also tried to set me up with the tango instructor (who is married).

So, um, yeah, it will definitely be a 4th of july that I never forget. 

When It Rains, It Pours.

Sorry for the wait, but not much has been new. I’ve been busy wrapping up the end of the school year, planning some projects for next year, and preparing for my summer projects. I’ve been seeking balance, trying not to get too tired or too bored. However, as I sought moderation, I feel like last week more clearly reflected “when it rains, it pours,” rather that my efforts to achieve a middle ground:

I planned a weekend trip to visit my training host family in Tumbaco and go in for a 1-day medical trip to Quito. The doctors just wanted to take a look at me, and I thought I would be back on a bus to Riobamba by noon. Not accurate. One day became three. When it rains, it pours.

Also, because I was out of touch for a few days, when I finally got back to the internet, my family was all:

When it rains, it pours.

Also, dear family, do you know what cures any Peace Corps illness? Care Packages, of course. 🙂 Check out my updated wish list.

Speaking of care packages, I went to the post office when I got home, hoping to find at least my Time magazine. Over the last few weeks, I haven’t received any mail, but I’ve been long-awaiting several packages. I’ve been going to the post office at least every couple of days, just like:

It’s been a little sad, but on Thursday, well, I was delighted to see two little slips in my box that indicate a package. Seriously, the joy that those little slips inspire is indescribable. So I went to the front counter to claim my packages,

and during the pretty much mandatory wait time of 25 minutes, as I watched the woman behind the counter stack up several envelops from the US, I started to speculate that I had more than two packages:

But it’s always better to be cautious,

Turns out my Time magazine was not there, BUT I did receive four packages (one that arrived in April, one that arrived in May, two that arrived in the beginning of June) and two letters (one that arrived in April, one that arrived in May). I have no idea why they decided to deliver my mail to me now, but either way,

When it rains, it pours….