Is everyone in the U.S. an actor?

Mom and Dad visit Ecuador is still on the way...

Here´s a little story of something classic that happened to me today:

I have started working mornings at an Elementary school. Work at the University is still on hold for the time being. Now that I work in the mornings, my work-out routine is in a rut. I used to get up and go for a run before the sun had come out. Now, I have to go in the afternoons. You can imagine how hard it is to get myself outside for a run at 4 pm in 90 degree heat!

Today I made it! I left my house at 5 pm and was refreshed by the cool breeze that was coming in and by the clouds that were shading the sun. Towards the end of my run I witnessed a car accident. It was pretty bad but no one was injured. I came to an immediate halt and joined in with the crowd of onlookers. It´s even more common to crowd around an accident here than it is at home.

While looking from afar, a woman next to me struck up a conversation. This is yet, another daily occurence in Ecuador. The friendliness of the perfect stranger still amazes me. Ecuadorians think people from the U.S. are cold and unfriendly. I think we´re just not as trusting of strangers. They always tell me I prove their theories wrong, so I must be doing some good down here, right?

Anyways, we got to talking. She wants to meet up with me for a jog sometime because her husband calls her lazy. She asked which part of the States I´m from. I said California and she asked if that was near Hollywood. Hollywood, another intriguing factor of the U.S. for those outside of it. I told her Hollywood was IN California so then she thought I must have met some celebrities in my lifetime. Unfortunately, I have not unless you count Caroline Rhea (Sabrina the Teenage Witch and The Biggest Loser...) or some no-namer from CSI who Dad was convinced was a main character and who now does water shows at theme parks. The woman then asked if nearly everyone in the U.S. is an actor or actress. So, lots of acting talk later, she tells me I remind her of a famous actress. Melissa something...she can´t remember the name. She looked to her daughter for help saying, ¨you know, that girl from that show you watch, Clarissa Explains it All.¨

For those of you who don´t know, Clarissa Explains it all was a popular Nickelodean show from about 14 or so years ago in which Melissa Joan Heart played a teenage girl going through teenage girl stuff. It was an awfully annoying show. It seems to have made a comeback in Ecuador. She informed me that she also plays on Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Yes, I know who she is and no, no one has ever told me before that I resemble her.

Having this little, humorous conversation with my new friend on the street really brightened my day and left me running home with a smile on my face. Melissa Joan Heart? Really? You just never know what to expect.

Visitors!! Mom and Dad, pt 1

After little thought and lots of planning, Mom and Dad came to visit me in Ecuador! At about halfway through my year here and near my birthday, timing couldn’t have been any better. We talked many nights on Skype attempting to plan our trip but, I’ve never been much of a planner, and Ecuador has only encouraged me to plan less. It’s fairly easy to just move around here and be assured that you’ll find a place to stay and a tour to book when you roll into town.

Here’s a little breakdown of Mom and Dad venture to Ecuador for a little adventure:

Hotels (not motels…motels are rented by the hour)
Hotels in Ecuador like to book reservations based on the number of people in your party rather than the number and/or types of beds needed. If you declare four people, well then, they want to give you four beds. The first night in Ecuador we were in a HUGE room with four beds (enough room to sleep 7 people) because my friend Elizabeth accompanied me to meet my parents in Guayaquil. You really have to make yourself clear if you want a specific bed arrangement. “ Una sencilla y un matrimonio por favor,” otherwise you end up sleeping in three twin beds.

A local’s point of view
Dad, taking after Grampa Ike, loves to make friends with any old stranger. You would think it would be harder to do in Ecuador what with the language barrier and all, but, you’d have to see it to believe it, my dad can converse for hours with the locals with his slight Spanish skills and their eagerness to listen. Dad made friends with David and family on a train ride to La Nariz del Diablo in Riobamba. He met sweet Olga, a small woman living alone at the peak of a vista point in the mountains of Baños, and – can’t remember her name – he spoke every morning with the woman who served him coffee. She came to recognize him when he walked through the door as “ café para llevar” man.

While trekking up the mountains behind Baños one day and beginning to conclude that we were never going to reach the mysterious little town of Run Tun at the very top of the mountain, we met a mountain local, Manuel. Manuel hailed us from the road insisting that we needed to rest and drink some tea…in his little concrete mountain house. I, as I always am here, was very weary and ready to say no. Well, we tried, but in true Ecua fashion, he refused our refusal and we ended up sitting down to a cup of tea and some cookies inside Manuel’s tiny, immaculate house. He insisted we stay for a while and even took his Nixon mask off the wall and put it on for a little show. He sat back with the mask on, held up two peace signs and said “ No so ladrón,” I am not a thief. It was at this point I had a hunch we were not the first wandering tourists to be sharing an afternoon cup of tea with Manuel. I became sure of this hunch after he led us back to the trail and then put his hand out politely requesting a tip.

Jungle time
One of the must sees for Mom and Dad was the jungle of Ecuador. We booked a one night trip out of Baños to go to the jungles of Puyo. The three of us had a private guide, Carlos who “ spoke English.” Carlos was awesome and definitely knew how to survive the jungle life. He lead us to our lovely rustic cabanas, where we would be staying for the night and then went to the kitchen to “ prepare the food.” He always said he was going to go prepare the food and he would be in the kitchen much longer than all the other guides who were individually preparing food for their groups. We soon realized our wait was well worth it when, after we’d been jealously eyeing other travelers eat their heaping plate of pasta, Carlos presented us with cream of mushroom soup, grilled garlic and herb chicken and fresh veggies. I assure you, this is not normal for food served on jungle trips, let alone food in Ecudaor. Carlos continued to wow us with his gourmet dishes.

It was after the first jungle hike and night’s stay in the rather shabby rustic cabins, that Mom and Dad agreed they were happy we had only booked one night. Jungle tour agencies here hardly ever warn you of the physical condition you should be in in order to participate in jungle trips. Jungle tour guides are part animal and just don’t consider that other people aren’t. After our first day’s hike we had had shared homemade yucca alcohol with the village shaman, painted our faces with ink from a jungle plant, climbed yet another tall tall mountain to a vista point, and swung over a large mud pit on a vine like Tarzan. Well, Carlos did, Dad did, and I opted out after witnessing the result of Mom’s turn. You’ll have to ask her about that story…

Our next day hike was even more strenuous and done wearing panchos because the rainforest rains had begun to fall hard. We inhaled some water mixture made from the bark of a tree that was supposed to clear our sinuses. Not only did it clear our sinuses, but it brought tears to our eyes, as well as our jungle guide’s eyes. On this day we were told we were going to hike to a waterfall and could swim. We all assumed the swim was optional. This assumption was put to rest when we had to begin hiking upstream in waste deep water. Then we stopped and Carlos informed us to leave our things on the embankment and swim around the rock ahead to get to the waterfall. Mom’s “no way am I swimming on this rainy day” attitude was confronted and conquered.

Mom and Dad come to Ecuador!!

Coming soon...Lots to say and pictures to share.

For now, just one.

First day in the jungles of Puyo. Hiked way up to the ¨Mirador¨for a breathtaking view of the rivers and jungle below.

Wrapping up Semester One

I´m an English Teacher??
So, I made it. I came into this teaching program in Ecuador as a college graduate with a BS in Graphic Communication with no official training in how to teach English at University level. The first couple months were hard and I questioned my ability to teach almost every day. Lesson planning took me hours and despite all the hard work, lessons still didn’t run as smoothly as they had been planned. But, and I can’t quite pinpoint when this happened, I became a Profesora de Ingles, for real. My lesson planning time became shorter and shorter. I built up a confidence that allowed me to walk into the classroom without every minute and every detail planned and, amazingly, these were the best days of class. I definitely still had some horrible days as a teacher where I questioned my ability to be in the position I was in, but as the semester came to an end, I truly believe that my students learned from me. They put aside my fears of their hatred for my classes by asking if I would be teaching the next level and I know it was not for the reason of avoiding my classes because on the last day, one of my students said to me “ Miss, it would be really great to have you again.”

The class that really pulled through and proved they had learned was my level eight conversation class. They had never been my favorite and I struggled in the beginning to facilitate a class primarily filled with speaking practice that was entertaining. Getting some of the students to speak was like pulling teeth and this was the final level of the entire English program!

As the class neared its end I decided to really put my students on the spot and make them realize their ability as English speakers. The last unit I designed for the course was centered on the idea of a debate and all it entails. My students learned to recognize and use common statements for agreeing and disagreeing and then were warmed up to the task of a debate by performing mini debates in small groups. I borrowed a brilliant idea from Bryce to divide groups into three smaller groups. One group stands for Agree, the second for Disagree, and the third group represents a jury which then decides the verdict (who wins the debate). We started off small and I gave them simple arguments such as “ It is better to have a job where you work overtime and make lots of money or to have a part-time job where you make little money but have much more time to spend with your family.” They loved the mini debates more than I had anticipated and I looked forward to the grand finale of the entire class debates.

For the final I split the class into three groups. Each group had to come up with a debate topic for the final debate day. The chosen debate topic would then be discussed between the two other groups and the group that created the topic would serve as the jury. I gave the groups complete freedom to choose topics and stressed the fact that debates are not limited to serious topics and that funny and simple topics were welcome as well. Well, my class decided to get themselves involved in some serious debates and created more work for themselves than I had planned by choosing the following topics: Abortion should be legal in Ecuador, The use of Euthanasia should be permitted in Ecuador, and Gay Marriage should be allowed in Ecuador.

Based on the topics of choice I worried for the big debate day in which I would be grading each student on his or her performance as part of the final grade. As soon as the first debate began I realized I had not enough faith in my students. They absolutely blew me away and it was obvious they had put real time and effort into preparing for what turned out to be three intense, intelligent and impressive debates. I knew they were good when I found myself subconsciously agreeing with a team to which, in actuality, I disagreed with the statement. I will never forget this last day of debates with level eight. My students showed me just how hard they were willing to work for my class and made me realize just how rewarding it can be to see
students demonstrate the knowledge and skills I have helped them achieve.

It´s been a long time but life is still funny...

Tommy Hilfiger, the Real Deal
Top clothing designers are really popular in Ecuador or rather the knock-off versions of top designers’ famous designs and logos. So long as you own an embroidery machine in Ecuador, you are entitled to produce your own version of Tommy (the favorite by far), Juicy, Polo, whatever. American brands are admired in Ecuador as many other American traditions have made an impression on culture here. It´s very trendy to wear shirts with sayings (written in English) on them. This was, and maybe still is, a popular trend in the U.S. but even more so here. The shirts often read typical things such as “ I love my boyfriend,¨¨What do you think you’re looking at?” and my personal favorite “ Cool is a girl’s best friend” (proudly worn by a mid-30’s student of mine).

Backstreet’s Back
Yet another American influence on culture here is music. English music is just as popular as the latest and greatest Latin pop and reggaton. However, the English hits here are about 10+ years old hits in the States. While walking through the Hiper Market (picture the Wal-Mart of Ecuador) I can’t help but hum along with popular hits of the 90’s blaring from the loudspeakers. I’m taken back to middle school days with the sounds of Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears (old day, not new), Boyz to Men, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston.

Would you like cola with that?
Ecuadorians LOVE soda. Meals are always accompanied with little glasses of soda. Now, this may not be so different from the likes of people back home but there is one big difference in the preference of sodas here. Ecuadorian soda flavors consist of apple, orange, strawberry, and bubblegum (not actually titled with this flavor but once determined by a friend of mine as resembling the taste of bubblegum). Of course, Coca Cola is as popular as ever as in any country anywhere.

I can’t talk about the importance of soda in the life of an Ecuadorian without mentioning the most important drinking device of the tiny paper-thin plastic cup also known as the “vasito.” Though larger plastic cups do exist, they are hard to come by and, in reality, I think the people here prefer the tiny little cup. When I say tiny, I’m talking 4oz tiny. Two gulps tiny. And the plastic is so thin; you can easily crush the entire vasito in one hand with one slight squeeze. Maybe the fun of the vasito is having to refill it five times before your thirst is quenched. Who knows.

Life is funny...especially in a foreign country

Been single, had a boyfriend, now I´m married
Think you can guess the number one question male strangers in Ecuador like to ask me? Are you single or married? Soltera o casada? They manage to ask me this question even if it’s in the span of a three-minute cab ride. Well, I lied. The number one question is “Where are you from?” since it’s obvious I’m not from Ecuador but that’s an obvious number one anywhere you may be in this world. Single or married? I wouldn’t say this one is as common worldwide. My naivety to the reasoning for the asking of such a question has now passed. However, in the beginning, to be kind and offer conversation I would answer: “single.” But the answer, single, is the gateway to a series of rather uncomfortable follow-up questions. It’s as if there’s a manual that tells every Ecuadorian male exactly what to say and in what order to say it if a girl should respond, “single.” It goes like this:

Ecua: Single or married? Soltera o casada?
Me: Single
Ecua: I don’t believe you. No te creo.
Me: uhhh, ummmm, si. (This is my response to many many questions in Ecuador)
Ecua: you don’t have a boyfriend in the U.S? Nor in Ecuador?
Me: uhhhh, no.
Ecua: But what do you think of Ecuadorian men? Would you want a boyfriend in Ecuador?
Me: uhhhhh, hmmmmm, noo… (Trying to be polite here).
Ecua: (offended) Well, why not. Ecuadorian men are nice.
Me: yeahhhhh, well, (very drawn out), yeah, I guess I would consider it. (Politeness taken as an invitation). *This is when I pretend I don’t know very much Spanish and cannot understand the remainder of the uncomfortable conversation.

I kid you not; this short conversation is repeated, word for word, on a weekly basis. Well, it was, but I have been figuring out how to put an end to it. First I tried inventing a boyfriend in the U.S. If you are a boy friend of mine from back home, I have most likely fabricated you into a relationship that does not actually exist between us. It’s easier to make up a story about someone I can picture in my head rather than a complete character of my imagination. The “fact” that I have a boyfriend in the U.S. isn’t enough to end the conversation. They want to know all about him. After another series of questions about this supposed boyfriend, they come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter; he’s in the U.S. You can have more than one boyfriend, you know…which is an opinion commonly acted upon in Ecuador.

Boyfriend in the U.S. didn´t work. So I moved on to a husband (yes, guy friends at home, you are now my husbands). Surprise! It makes no difference. It’s the same story. Why can’t you have a husband in the U.S. and a boyfriend in Ecuador, they ask.

The final solution to the problem of avoiding the awkward marital status question? I now have an imaginary boyfriend, or even more than one, in Ecuador. This answer seems to always end the inquisition. There may be a few follow-up questions about this guy, but overall, it just pleases the inquisitor that I have chosen his country over mine.

Tight Jeans
The clothing styles of Ecuadorian women are definitely different than those of women in the U.S. I often wonder if I would stand out more as a gringa dressed as myself, or a gringa dressed as an Ecuadorian. I choose myself because I would never be comfortable in the skin-tight, bright, somewhat dressy, and unforgiving clothes the average Ecua woman wears on a daily basis. I swear every woman in Ecuador wears size 2 jeans, no matter her size. And the shirts never meet the waste . This fashion would never pass school dress code in the States. Aside from the jeans, they wear high heels all day, every day. They wear them to the grocery store, the park, school, work, you name it. It’s an amazing sight to see Ecuadorian women navigating the under-constructed streets of Machala. If I were to try the heels, I would average five falls per day, I’m sure.

Mall-Walking
When I was a kid, I often spent early weekday or Saturday mornings cruising the Capitola Mall with Nana and Papa before all the stores opened. This activity was known as the very popular (among the elderly) “Mall-walking.” I never expected to revisit this activity until many more years later in my life when I might perhaps carry on the tradition with my grandkids. Machala, however, has caused the premature occurrence of mall-walking in my life. Machala has a new mall, which they are very proud of. It’s small, but new and modern and most importantly, has air conditioning. On days when the heat is brutal (it’s becoming an everyday occurence), the mall is one of the most popular places to spend the afternoon in coolness and comfort. If you go to the mall on a blistering afternoon, you may not find a single parking space and you will join the masses of people strolling up and down the one long, rectangular pathway of the mall without ever entering a store.

The job of a policeman
One of the greatest mysteries of Machala is the job and duties of the policemen. I see them all the time but I never know what they are doing. I had thought there were no speed limits in Machala because I never saw any signs. Turns out, there are speed limits, but no one pays attention because the police never regulate.

There was just a new law passed about driver and front-seat passenger wearing seatbelts. Seatbelts? What are seatbelts? You can hardly find a functioning or visible seatbelt in a car here…My family seems to be concerned about this new seatbelt law, but I really don’t think the police are going to take action on those who are not wearing it. I ask people here to tell me more about the job of a policeman. No one really knows what the job entails. But they do know one thing. If you happen to get pulled over on the roads, hand over a $20 (literally, there’s a going rate), and you’ll be off the hook. This has lead me to conclude that the police are self-employed scam artists. In need of $40? No problem, pull over two cars for the day and you’re set.

BBQ
Ecuadorians love their barbeque. It’s easy to find a parillada (bbq) restaurant on any street in Machala. I have learned, after having been invited to several parillada dinners at friend’s houses, that the barbeque in Ecuador is different than that which I am used to from home. If invited to a BBQ you must go on an empty stomach because, without fail, you will be served up a plate of at least three kinds of meat. If you’re not good at making decisions regarding meat preference, there are no worries here. You are guaranteed a plate of pork, beef, chicken and sausage and…. rice.

Off to school...in a boat
The rains are starting to hit Machala pretty hard. I wake up to the powerful sound of it on the roof every night. The cool, fresh, calming sensation of the rain is put to rest upon waking in the morning to dirty, muddy, flooded streets. But, the high-intensity rays of the Machaleñ0 sun do their best to dry up street rivers. But, there is one street in Machala that takes a little longer than the rest. This just so happens to be good ol´Diez de Agosto, home to the Instituto de Idiomas (aka: my work).

I rode the bus in confidence to school, sure that the street would be accessible, despite earlier warnings that the gates to the school had not been able to open earlier that morning. As I rode through Machala, I noticed how most streets were in decent condition considering the torential rains that had hit the night before. Even rounding the corner of Diez de Agosto, the streets were fine...until 2 blocks from the Institute. I had to hop off the bus early only to find that I was stranded. School was in my viewpoint but I quickly realized, it was not, and was not going to be, within my grasp. I stood on a little dry patch of sidewalk staring and wondering just how I might make it that way. As I was thinking, another bus drove by forcing the waters of the middle street to subside to the edges of the street, thus washing over my feet and ankles. At this point, I turned around, walked a few blocks back to the dry land, and hitched a ride on the bus back home, having a greater understanding of why it is teachers, never students, are never happy to have school cancelled...especially on a test day.

More Pictures!

Puerto Bolívar sunset, Machala

Cascadas de Manuel. Day trip with some students.

Thanksgiving with Level 4. This is the full group shot with my largest class.

The purpose of this picture is to show you a clear picture of the interior of my classroom, not to show you the energy and excitement that I bring into the classroom. I call it bare bones and that´s no exagerration. The walls are in desperate need of a paint job. The desks are incredibly old and made of heavy metal that makes the most awful sound when dragging them across the concrete floor. The tops of the desks are covered in notes from past attempts at cheating throughout the years. The ¨window¨up to the right is an open vent out to the courtyard. Since I teach at the University´s Liberal Arts Institute, I share a small courtyard of classrooms with the music classes and the dance classes. Right outside the vents in the picture is where the music class loves to practice their dance routine at which point I have no option but to have my students work individually because my voice cannot be heard above the rhythms of traditional Ecuadorian folklore music. I then stand at the door and stare at the dance class and instructor until he gives me the signal that means he´s sorry and that they´re almost done. It´s all in a days work!