Is this real life?

Not as much to report this week—training is pretty intense between multiple group projects, Spanish lessons for 4 hours a day, and an array of security, regulation, and health sessions. This week, I did get the chance to leave the training center to go to Quito twice. On Wednesday, my group and I traveled to see the Peace Corps office in the city; it’s quite the trek, three bus rides, to get over there. The office is really nice, as are all of the staff. Of course, while at the office, we had yet another safety talk with our head of security. She discussed robberies and theft on transportation in Ecuador, which is quite the problem, especially if you are a gringo. Unfortunately, on the bus ride back to the training center, one of my fellow trainees experienced this first hand when she got off the bus and realized her jacket had been slashed. She’s fine—just short a cheap cell phone and five dollars. Sneaky, sneaky thieves.

The weather has been extremely beautiful this past week with lots of sunshine. Several of us decided to walk to the neighboring town of Cumbaya (yup, that’s the name of the town) during the day on Saturday to enjoy the lovely scenery. There is a bike bath, the ciclovia, which runs for miles through and between towns in the area. Lots of mountain bikers, runners, and walkers take advantage of the path, especially in the mornings. I’ve only driven through Cumbaya on the bus on the way to Quito, and I can’t believe how nice the town is. The town square is beautiful with a fountain and palm trees. After our walk, we all decided to opt out of eating at a restaurant serving white rice (two weeks in of eating white rice for two meals a day, and I’m already trying to avoid it!), so we found an Italian restaurant and enjoyed delicious pizza. It was such a relaxing day after a super stressful week!

A view from the ciclovia on the way to Cumbaya

More nice views from the ciclovia

Town square in Cumbaya

Fellow trainees and me!

About to enjoy pizza and beer (sin arroz--without rice!)

However, Saturday didn’t end with lunch in Cumbaya. The entertainment always continues when I get back home. I need to preface this story by saying that my host family always says that I eat “como un gato” (like a cat). Meaning: I don’t eat much. I’ll let you decide if you know any cats that eat the sheer quantity of food that I was given on Saturday.

I walk in my house in late afternoon after my outing to Cumbaya. I’m greeted with hugs and a rapid flood of words that I sort of half know. Rosa asks what I did with my friends. I tell her we had a huge lunch, and I’m very full (take note of this). Next, my host brother asks if we’re going to make cookies. I remember my promise about making chocolate chip cookies, so I say yes. Rosa watches over the whole process to ensure that I do in fact know how to use a spoon to mix ingredients. (Side note: same goes for sweeping, dusting, making my bed, and ironing—all of which I now know how to properly do.) I make the dough, I put the cookies in the oven, and I am about to walk out of the kitchen. But, Rosa calls my name from the dining room and tells me that my soup is waiting for me on the table. I reiterate that I just ate lunch. Nope, doesn’t matter, I have to try a little soup. A heaping bowl of soup later, I’m nearing food coma status. Next thing I know, I’m sitting in my room studying and my other host brother, who is a truck driver that drives to the coast every week, comes in with a mango and hands it to me. I don’t really know the protocol when you are handed a piece of tropical fruit in your bedroom, so I say thank you and try to continue studying. He is still standing in my room next to my bed, so I realize the protocol is to follow him into the kitchen. My two host brothers and I split open mangoes and laugh as bright orange mango juice drips down our arms onto the ceramic floor. I eat one mango. Do I want another? Oh my god, no. I sneak back to my room. Ten minutes later—I hear the bells chime six from the church in the center of town, and in comes Rosa. She wants me to make a salad for dinner. You’re kidding, right? I’m back in the kitchen. Salad, rice, eggs, and beans. For situations like this, the training staff taught us how to say, “Ya no avanzo.” (I can’t continue.) It never works.

One final note: My host family loves my chocolate chip cookies, and the word vender, to sell, got thrown around a couple of times. I hope they were talking about the cookies. Either way, I’m glad I could add something to the food fest.

Staging, Training, Spanglish, and Avocados

I'm here! I'm in Ecuador! I'm in South America! After a day of staging in Dallas, a trip to the airport at three in the morning, a layover in Miami, and a rainy arrival in Ecuador, I'm officially a Peace Corps Ecuador Trainee with Omnibus 107. There are thirty-six other trainees in my group, and everyone is wonderful. I arrived in Ecuador on Thursday night and stayed at the training center for the first two nights with my fellow trainees. Training thus far: shots, signatures, shots, safety, thirty-minute Spanish lesson, signatures. There is much more to be done in the coming eleven weeks--in fact, 8 hours a day of training! 

After two days at the training center, I moved in with my host family yesterday. Peace Corps placed me with an older couple and their older son (people here live with there parents until they get married; much different than the U.S.). They are wonderful people. The host mother, Rosa, was extremely disappointed when she found out  that I am vegetariana, but she is very nice about it. Although, she does put a small piece of chicken on my plate at every meal. Their home is surrounded by avocado and lime trees (more description further down). Today, Rosa and I went to the market in the morning to buy bananas, papaya, watermelon, melon, pears, pineapple, and claudias (small peach-like fruits=delicious); she makes fresh juice every morning. At the market, I realized she has taken to introducing me as mi gringa--maybe she forgot my name. Just kidding. As for my Spanish: it's kind of a joke. I could probably have a fantastic conversation with a two-year-old. But, my host family doesn't speak a word of English, so there is no time like the present to learn, quickly.

My room for the next 3 months.

On another note, I love to write descriptions about my surroundings, so here is a passage I wrote last night about my first day with my host family.

As I sit in my room, giant avocados droop from branches, lushly green, verde, in the Andean rain. Mist-laden mountains come in and out of focus with the passing layers of clouds. The squeak of guinea pigs, cuy, biding their time drifts through the slightly open window. Swirling scents of freshly showered leaves blend with the unnameable scent that is the Ecuadorian Sierra. Lime trees create a wall of citrus around the blue rectangular house. The chatter of Rosa returning home pulls my mind back to the present. Hola. At least I know that part. Unfamiliar words blend with slightly more familiar ones. Mercado, market, and la vuelta de bus, bus ride. Four blocks from the house, the city center of Tumbaco begins. At the market, Rosa and I play the "name that vegetable and/or fruit in Spanish" game and purchase vegetables for the gringa that doesn't eat meat. A practice bus ride follows to the Peace Corps training center. On the crowded bus, cool mountain air blows against my face as the bus jolts up a dirt road. Two little boys in striped shirts hang their heads out the window and bark relentlessly. The boys exit, and Rosa and I change buses. As the bus driver hops on the bus, he calls me guapa. Rosa won't stand for that; she asks him if he meant both of us, including her (mind you, she's a grandmother). I laugh as we head home.