Ecuador

Ecuador is a country that loves to celebrate. Currently, there are 417 holidays recognized throughout the country, so there are more official holidays than total days in a year. As one American put it, "So you really can say, 'every day's a holiday' in Ecuador."

One Ecuadorian holiday in particular leads me to share my most recent cultural experience. This celebration is called Quito Days, and is a week-long holiday from the 1st - 6th of December that commemorates the greatness of the capital city. Most Ecuadorians seem to spend this holiday inebriated and singing songs about Quito. While I did not feel the need to intoxicate myself during that week, I did have a great time singing songs about Quito. This is because three months prior, I became a member of the city’s Voz Andes choir. The Voz Andes choir performs the week of the Quito festivities and is thought to be one of the city’s biggest highlights throughout the year.

In a choir of 100, being one of five foreigners, I knew I would gain a lot from this particular Ecuadorian experience. After our first two rehearsals I quickly learned that punctuality was not a priority. There were several practices when even our conductor would show up as much as 20 minutes late. Even after the choir voted to impose a 50 cent fine to any one who showed up late, the tardiness continued. I don’t think anyone besides me ever paid the fine.

Another unique aspect of our choir was the Amigo Secreto program. This is similar to Secret Santa except that we were expected to bring our “amigo” a present for every rehearsal. Every rehearsal we all would place our presents for our secret friend on a table with their name on it. During break time, everyone would go look to see if their secret friend had left then anything. It was fun to pick out little presents for my amigo, but not everyone seemed to agree. For starters, some people decided it would be more fun to steal the presents instead of participating. One night when I brought my amigo homemade chocolate chip cookies, I caught one of my fellow choir members picking them up, and walking away with them. I didn’t know exactly who my amigo was, but I did know that her name was Paola, and the man who was walking away with Paola’s cookies was named Rafael. I confronted Rafael and said in Spanish, “Is your name Paola? Because these cookies have Paola’s name on them.” He sheepishly handed them over. On the other side, I was fortunate enough to have a amigo secreto who consistently would bring me little trinkets. It was fun to see what he/she would bring me every week because it was always surprising. But soon the gifts made me think that my Secret Santa was trying to tell me to go on a diet. Some of the presents I received included: low fat crackers, low fat cookies, an apple, a banana, and low fat milk.

One of my most valuable and interesting experiences with the choir was learning all the songs about Ecuador and Quito. Quiteñans have a lot of pride in their city. You could even say that some Quiteñans seem to love their city so much that if they could break off Quito and have it be its own country they probably would. It’s a weird phenomenon kind of similar to what you might encounter if you ever visit the state of Texas.

I really enjoyed learning cultural songs about Quito, but some of them were a little bit strange. For example one song entitled “How Beautiful is my Quito” says:
Quito has the most beautiful women,
Either with blond hair or brown hair
All are pretty
Just like my beautiful Quito.
As I sang these words for the first time, I look around at a sea of 99 brunettes that surrounded me, the only blond, and wondered, “Where are all these blond Quiteñans that this song is talking about?” This pondering taught me a new lesson in Quito culture: Never question songs written about Quito to a Quiteñan. I was given a stern reprimand when I mentioned this to one the Ecuadorian members of the choir who snapped, “Yes there are blond Quiteñans, there are just none here right now.” Folks, I’ve been in Quito for almost 9 months now, and I have yet to see one.

Our actual choir performances were held in the Teatro Sucre which is a beautiful, old theater in Colonial Quito that has recently been remodeled. It reminds me of the Phantom of the Opera with its big chandelier hanging over the audience, plush red velvet seats, and ornate wall carvings. The concerts sold out the day after they went on sale. This could have something to do with the fact that the tickets only cost a “suggested donation” of $2, but none-the-less I was flattered that we would be singing for a full house for all five performances.

Besides the appalling/annoying fact that the orchestra members were frequently late to their own concert, thus insuring that we started each concert around 15 minutes late, I enjoyed singing for Quito. For the life of me, I could not understand why a paid orchestra member would show up late to their own concert (the choir, by the way, is unpaid). Orchestra aside, it was especially fun to sing the Chulla Quiteña. All people from Quito love this song, and during Quito days it will be the only one you hear. I guess we could compare it to Ohio’s love for the song “Hang On Sloopy,” in that it is upbeat and entertaining, and once it gets stuck in your head, it’s there for good.

Even though I work with Ecuadorians every day at the orphanage, I will still consider my time in the Coro Voz Andes my most cultural experience so far. If you’d like to hear parts of the choir performances go to www.HCJB.org and click on “Downloads” to hear sections of it.

This morning our Scorpion danger color level inside our house increased again. It had been at red-orange for a week after we found 4 scorpions in 3 days. With no scorpion sitings last week, the danger color decreased to orange. However, this morning, the danger color leaped to firetruck red when I put on my sock and felt something kind of like a Lego on the bottom of my foot. Luckily, the scorpion was already dead. (Unless it was just holding its breath so it didn't have to smell my foot.) I think the scorpion must have either crawled into my sock while the sock was laying on the floor waiting to be washed, or crawled into my warm sock, between being taken out of the dryer and matched and folded. Either way, I don't plan to go into the laundry room at night.
-Pete

I am sitting in a little internet cafe in a surfing town called Montanita. Pete and I had no plans to go on any trips but suddenly, I found out that my old college roommate, Danielle, was coming to Quito for a month. She came along with my other friends from college, Dannee and Matt. I went to Argentina with both Danielle and Dannee, so we have travel experience together. I wasn´t sure what to expect when I heard they were coming in town, but soon after their arrival they asked us to travel with them. Without even having to ask, our boss, Clark, offered to give us the week off for traveling. Thus, what started out as a regular week in Quito, quickly became a road trip adventure through Ecuador. This could not have come at a more opportune time. Pete and I were both experiencing what we like to call the "six month hump" and were feeling a little homesick, and this unexpected visit has seemed to revive us.

After renting a car for the week, we decided to go back to Tod Swanson´s place in the jungle, which we previously went to in July (see our blog). It was great fun, swimming in the Napo river, seeing all kinds of scary bugs, hiking in the rainforest (in pouring rain), tubing down the river, and once again going to the jungle reserve where we saw all kinds of animals. It was great to be in a warm climate again but the best times were had laughing with old friends. From the jungle we travelled south to the beach. Our orginal destination was Montanita, but as fate/luck would have it, they closed the roads due to provincial protests to Montanita and we were forced to stay in a gross, dirty town called Playas for the night. The next morning, determined to make it to Montanita, our Mecca if you will, we took little dirt back roads for 3 hours where we passed villages that may have never seen white people before. It was a grand adventure but when we got within 3 miles of Montanita we found that the roads were blocked again. But by this point there was no stopping us from achieving our destination we took some more back roads, including a very scary muddy downhill to finally get to Montanita. The town is everything we hoped it would be, a beautiful, quant surfing town. Our hostal costs $10 per person and we have ocean front with balconies with hammocks. The weather has been cloudy, but this has not stopped us from surfing until our heart´s content. Tomorrow we return back to Quito and back to work, but I feel revived and I miss our kids (all 45 of them).

There are more stories of this adventure, including meeting local celebrities, and riots but that must be saved for another blog.

Today I (Pete) started Ecuadorian drivers ed. I can drive legally in Ecuador with my US and international licenses, but to be covered by insurance, which is not mandatory in Ecuador, I need an Ecuadorian license.
The last time I did drivers ed, I sat in the back of the classroom with my other 15-year-old friends and we made faces and played catch because our in-class teacher was legally blind. She would say, "I know you're probably doing something back there, but I just don't know what."
The first thing I did today, before any in-class training, was behind-the-wheel practice. I guess they figure that most people have already driven, whether legally or illegally, here. For the record, I wore my seatbelt when I drove - my instructor did not. He did wrap his seatbelt around the handbreak once to look like he had it on when he saw a policeman.
In-class training was fun. I could understand almost everything the teacher said, and I even understood his jokes, but I stood out like a big foreign exchange student with my Northern-European complexion. Any chance of blending in was lost when the teacher wanted me to teach him to pronounce my entire name, Peter Blake Vanderlinden Grangaard. But it was funny for all, and it gave classmates a conversation starter to talk to me afterward. A couple of college-age guys were especially welcoming and willing to help me if I need it.
I'm sure the class will be a great learning experience, and it will give me lots to write about.
-Pete

You know what I think would make a great joke at my funeral? For people to show a slideshow of all my ugliest and weirdest pictures (preferibly the ones where I have red eyes) and display these pictures to the song, "Every Breath You Make." I just think it would be hilarious to see all these creepy pictures of myself while hearing Sting and The Police sing, "Every step you take, every move you make....I'll be watching you." There's a rumor that Sting wrote that song for an ex-girlfriend after she had a restraining order put against him. (Gives the song a different twist, huh?) I think that'd be pretty funny... and that gives all of you readers an insight to my twisted sense of humor.

I know its bad luck to think on one's funeral, especially at such a young age, but I thought about it a lot of the way home from the jungle. I thought about the orphanage and the legacy Clark and Melinda (the orphanage directors and founders) will leave behind when they die. To think that they probably have the best-run orphanage in Ecuador, maybe in all of South America is a great thing. It makes me proud to work for them. Then, I thought about Tod Swanson, the owner of the lodge we stayed in the jungle, and the nature preserve he's building. I thought about how long after he's gone, botanists, biologists, and nature lovers will still enjoy discovering the Amazonian Rainforest through his nature preserve. Maybe someone will even make an important scientific discovery there. It's neat to think that these people, Clark, Melinda and Tod, make the world better with the lives they lead, and it makes me want to find my own niche where I too can make a lasting difference.

Thinking on these things brought John Mayer's song, "Bigger than My Body" to mind.
Someday I'll fly, Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so much more
'Cuz I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for
'Cuz I'm bigger than my body now

Tod, Clark and Melinda have all made themselves "bigger than their bodies" because they're leaving behind things that will continue to make the world a better place long after they're gone. I hope that someday that song will be fitting for me as well.

It’s amazing how close the jungle is to Quito. The drive takes about 5 hours, but it’s less than a hundred miles away as the crow flies. Quito is in the mountains, and both the native and modern cultures are mountain cultures, so it is amazing that the jungle can be so close. From our home on a clear day, we can see the giant, snow-capped mountain, Antisana, which separates us from the jungle. People normally think of the jungle as being a low altitude place, but I guess when the Amazon River flows all the way from here across Brazil, it has to start pretty high.
For our recent trip to the jungle, we stayed right on the Napo River, which flows into the Amazon. We stayed for three nights in screened-in wooden huts with roofs of palm leaves. Tesha and I were lucky enough to get one of the elevated huts, with chickens roaming around it, so we didn’t have too many bugs (just a few big spiders, a cockroach in the magazine I was reading, and a small scorpion). Our hut was close to the cliff that dropped down to the river, so we enjoyed falling asleep to the sound of the light rapids.
The area of the jungle we stayed in is 10 kilometers from the section of land found by a scientist to have the highest amount of plant species in a single hectare in the world. The plant life looks like what you’re probably imagining the jungle to be – countless types of plants growing everywhere they can, while trying to defend themselves with thorns, giant leaves and poisonous bark. We saw all sorts of poisonous spiders, scary bugs, a corral snake (one of the most poisonous snakes in the world), monkeys, a neon pink dragonfly, and butterflies of every imaginable color. We saw butterfly after butterfly, yet rarely saw the same pattern twice. Around our huts we saw a tarantula bigger than my hand, a moth the size of my face, and a stick bug the size of… well, a stick.
We went to the jungle with a volunteer group that came down to help out at the orphanage. One of the days was dedicated to helping the community there by building a Sunday-School room at a small church and building a fence for a nature preserve. Tesha and I went with the fence building group because most people wanted to build for the church. We were told that our job would be the easy one and that we would be “stringing” part of a fence together. So after putting on our shorts and shoes, we headed off to our jobsite to find out that we would be hauling 8 foot logs on our shoulders ¼ of a mile into the jungle. Once we got into the thick of the jungle we dug holes and set the mini telephone poles in the ground for the fence. If this doesn’t sound that bad to you yet, imagine that we were walking through undeveloped jungle and making our own paths, while carrying posts that will root and turn into trees, and fighting fire-ants. After awhile, one of the Ecuadorian natives asked Tesha why we were all wearing shorts. We went and found boots and pants after he explained that he would probably be dead by now from poisonous spider and snake bites if it weren’t for his pants.
Even though we slept in huts, the jungle trip has been our most comfortable trip. The luxury of riding a private bus, knowing the people around us, and trusting that our things will be safe is more comfortable than staying in a nice hotel.
You can see pictures of our jungle trip at: http://community.webshots.com/user/peteandtesha
-Pete

Well we actually went to Canoa a month ago but then we got too busy to blog about it. Luckily I journaled the trip down so here is our second trip to the beach from my journal.....

July 8 2007

We are off to Canoa with new friends! Pete and I have made friends with a group of college interns who are here for the summer. It is so much fun to hang out with people our own age who speak English. There are 8 of us total who are going on the trip. We are going to a beach town that is famous for surfing so hopefully we'll be able to get in some good waves.

July 9 2007

Well after an all-night bus trip we arrived at Canoa around 7 am dazed and tired. Canoa is a small town with dirt roads and a laid-back feel to it. After finding a semi-shady hostel and having leisurely breakfast complete with LOTs of coffee we set off to explore Canoa's beaches. The weather was a bit cold but the water was warm and we had fun exploring the beach, climbing on rocks and collecting sea shells. Later after lunch we rented surf boards and boggie boards, but I guess this isn't the season for good surf because it was pretty tame. The boys still had a good time trying to surf (with Pete helping to teach them). We enjoyed a delicious dinner of lobster for only $10! After dinner we tried to stay up and hang out at this local pub which was really neat but in the end we all went to bed around 9:45 exhausted from the lack of sleep the previous night.

July 10 2007

Well it was pretty cold and cloudy this morning so after breakfast we decided to play soccer on the beach barefoot. We had a great time until I ran into our friend Ryan's shin with my toe and my big toe was bent back all the way. It hurt SO badly but I tried to be brave and said I'd take 5. Five minutes later however it was hurting worse than ever and I was biting my lips to keep from sobbing. When Pete and the others came to check on me a half an hour later I was crying and my toe had swollen to twice its normal size. Pete gave me a piggy back ride to our hotel (which hurt really bad too to have my foot being jostled around) where we ran into the hotel owner. He looked at my foot and was immediately concerned and said I should go visit the town doctor. I decided this was a probably a good idea so that I could get some pain medicine or something so Pete and the hotel owner took turns giving me a piggy back ride to the "doctor's office." I felt ridiculous being carried by a 50-something Ecuadorian through the dusty street of Canoa, not to mention that people kept coming out of their houses to look at us but he wouldn't let me walk. The doctor's office turned out to be a cinderblock house and an old lady came out. She turned out to be the "doctor," except she wasn't a doctor at all, more like the town midwife. This naturally made me apprehensive but she assured me that she knew what she was doing.

When we got into the sparely decorated house, five children popped up out of no where and gathered around to watch their grandmother (I'm assuming) examine my toe. After gently poking it, she took out some Vaseline and proceeded to rub my foot down. This might have felt comforting had it not been for the fact that my foot was still caked with sand and so it hurt quite a lot to have someone rubbing sand into your foot. Then, without warning, she took my injured big toe and yanked it. I couldn't help it. I screamed bloody murder. She was trying to explain to me that she was trying to put it back into place but I told her, "No thank you I am done here and I will go to a real doctor." All this time it seemed like more and more kids showed up at the house. I was being scrutinized by about 10 little kids now who were laughing as I was crying. The lady told me that "oh the doctors will only give you pills for the pain. That’s all they do." Well right now that sounded pretty good so we paid the lady $5 for injuring me further and left, Pete carrying me all the way to the hostel. Now, as I said before, the hostel was semi-shady, not one of the nicest I've ever stayed in but it felt like home when we arrived. Pete had actually brought some of his pain meds that his orthodontist prescribed for his mouth pain and that seemed to do the trick. I was sad that I was out of commission for the rest of the trip but it felt good to sleep.

August 9 2007

My toe is almost completely healed up now. I saw the orphanage's doctor when we got back to Quito who said that I had severely sprained it but it was not broken. So for the past month I have been deprived of running which I really missed and this is my first week back to normal work out routine.
-Tesha

Last Saturday I summited Rucu Pinchincha, the 15,500 foot mountain that towers beside Quito. (That's about 1,000 feet higher than any mountain in the continental US.) I went with a few American friends who are serving as interns in Quito for the summer. Pichincha is high enough so that, even as it sits on the equator, it has snow on the top. The top was cold, but much worse, it was very difficult to breath. Our last 150 yards took us half an hour to ascend because we'd take about 6 steps through the steep, soft, sandy terrain and then have to stop to catch our breath. On the way back down, the same 150 yards took us less than 2 minutes. I've felt exhausted from pushing myself physically many times before, but this was a much different feeling - feeling fine throughout my body, yet not having the air to tell myself to keep going.
The top looks sort of like Mordor from Lord of the Rings with its dark, jagged, unfriendly looking rock. It was cloudy at the very top, so I hope to go up again on a clear day. From below the clouds we got a great view of Quito and the surrounding area. I never realized how big the city is.
-Pete

Today was a day mixed with sadness and relief as one of FHC's children, Teresa, died today. Poor little Teresa (or Teresita, "Little Teresa," as she was called by her tias) lived only to be six months old. She went to be in paradise with her heavenly father early this morning after spending the last two months in a children's hospital here in Quito.

Teresa was one of the first babies that I got a chance to work with. Teresa's biological mother was very young and "fell down some stairs" causing her to go prematurely into labor when she was still only about 7 and a 1/2 months pregnant. I used parenthesis for "fell down" because there is some debate over whether or not the mother purposely tried to do something to end her pregnancy early. Shortly after Theresa was born, weighing only 3 pounds, her mother abandoned her at the hospital. So as a result, Teresa was born with many problems. For starters, she was diagnosed with hydrocephalus (excess fluid in the brain), and sepsis (an immune system response to an infection, causing severe inflammation, faster breathing, faster heart rate, and a higher body temperature). Teresa spent the first three weeks of her life in intensive care and was brought to FHC needing 24-hour supplemental oxygen and a feeding tube.

In my first month at FHC, I accompanied Teresa and her tias on many doctor's visits. It seemed like if Teresa wasn't sleeping or eating she was going to the doctors. She was still on supplemental oxygen but started to be able to eat from a bottle. She was a sweet baby girl who loved to be held. We had high hopes for her until about a month and half-ago when she developed pneumonia and had to be taken to the hospital again. We didn't get to visit her in the hospital, but we felt comfortable knowing that FHC sent a tia to be with her 24 hours a day while she was there. This is why I wrote in the first sentence that is Teresa's death comes as sadness and as a relief, in that she had suffered so much for someone so who lived such a short time.

Teresita's little body is being kept at FHC today and tomorrow for her memorial service. I had the strange experience of unexpectedly walking into the room where they are keeping her body. I've seen the dead body of my grandma at her viewing service, but I've never seen a dead baby before. It was so sad and surreal at the same time. What struck me were her tiny little eyelashes. She looked like a little sleeping doll, except that Teresa had long, beautiful eyelashes that you could tell were real.

So that is Teresa's story. I felt that someone should tell it in honor of her memory. At least I know that while she was a FHC, she was given the best care available by the tias here. I know nothing can compare to a mother's love but the tias tried their very best to love that little girl. Please pray for these tias when you think of them because Teresa’s death is difficult for them right now, and rejoice that this little girl has now gone home to a place where she will suffer no more.

I'm sorry it's been so long since our last entry. Between writing sponsorship letters and working with the kids our blog entries have fallen behind but we're going to start writing in it more frequently now.

This entry will feature some of the babies...

This is Noemi at 16 months. Pete and I love to play with Noemi because she is always happy. She loves to laugh and loves for us to hold her. She especially likes to be thrown up in the air and caught. Since our arrival, Noemi has learned to walk. It has been such a privilege to watch her go from taking her first steps to now pattering all around. Noemi also loves to swim. I take her to the pool on Thursdays and we have so much fun splashing around together. In the pool, Noemi likes it when I place her on the edge and hold out my hands for her to fall into my arms. We say together (in English), “One, two, three!” and she jumps into my arms laughing the whole time. Noemi is also very cute during snack time. The other day I was feeding her a banana and before she took a bite she would always say, “Yummmm.” Every time! It made Pete and I laugh. We actually videotaped it and we hope to be able to show it soon.

Noemi’s story is very interesting. Noemi’s mother was actually hired as a surrogate for a Columbian family. Noemi’s mother already had three kids, no job, and was living with her mother so she was desperate to make some money. The Columbian family paid her $800 but then they were suddenly called back to Columbia and never came back or tried to contact Noemi’s mother. When Noemi was born, Noemi’s mother couldn’t afford to keep her so that’s how Noemi came to For His Children. She has been with us since she was about a week old. She is a very smart baby and is usually a favorite by all.

This is Andrea at 11 months sitting in Pete's lap. Andrea has the sweetest, little personality. She is very quiet and sometimes timid but she loves to be around people. Andrea especially likes to be with Pete. We recently took her to our house to play, but Andrea wanted to sit in Pete’s lap the whole time. She was so content to just be near him.

Since Andrea is more guarded then the other babies, you truly feel rewarded when she laughs or smiles at you. A few ways to get her to laugh or smile at you is to tickle her. She will laugh so hard when she is tickled that she will go into that “silent laugh” mode. Andrea is one of the more independent babies and seems content to play by herself when we are busy helping with the other babies. In the last month, she has started to walk cautiously but she still prefers to do a butt-scoot-like crawl. She never goes on her hands and knees, rather she scooches her way across the floor. When she gets excited about something she will scooch over to you with gusto so that she is practically using her butt as a trampoline.

Andrea’s story is something out of a movie. A family found a little baby only a few days old in a box on their doorstep on evening. They were afraid to touch her at first because they noticed right away that she had six fingers on her left hand and six toes on her right toe. Finally they called a neighbor (who told them to stop being superstitious) and the neighbor called the police. The police could never find out who left little Andrea there and she came For His Children shortly after. She has had her extra fingers and toes removed now (they were more like nubbins than actual limbs) but she is still very self-conscience bout them. She will not let you touch or see where her scar is on her hands or feet.

Finally, this is Emilia at seven months old. I’m pretty sure Emilia is the happiest, sweetest baby in the whole world. I have only seen her cry once in all my three months here and it was only for a second. I truly believe that Emilia has been blessed by God with one of the best-natured personalities. She is always happy and smiling whether you are holding her or whether she is playing by herself. Recently, I was playing with the babies in their room and Emilia was playing quietly by herself in her crib. The rest of the babies were playing on the floor with me, so I went to Emilia’s crib to have her join us but she looked so happy cooing softly to herself as she played with her stuffed bear that I decided to leave her there. She continued to play in her crib just as happy as could be. I also really like it when I get to play with Emilia in the pool. She gets so excited to be in the water. She loves to splash around, although occasionally she will give herself a good splash in the face which will startle her. As you can see, she is also our most photogenic baby.

Emilia is another baby who was found on a doorstep in a cardboard box only hours after her mother gave birth to her. The family who found her noticed a strange car near their house and they suspect now that it was Emilia’s mother who was making sure that someone found her. The family wanted to keep Emilia but when they called the police, the police told them they’d have to go through the proper adoption methods. So now Emilia is here at FHC and is a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

All three of these babies are very dear to my heart. Please pray for them to find loving, Christian families soon. We will write more soon!

Since this is probably one of our only venting sessions I (Tesha) thought I'd jump on and say one more thing about Ecuador/Ecuadorians that frustrates/confuses us. First, let's think about an every day situation in the United States: You’re at the grocery store. You don't have a cart. You're browsing in the middle of the cereal aisle deciding which one you'd like to have for the next morning's breakfast. While deciding you notice out of the corner of your eye that someone else is moving down your aisle with a shopping cart. You are in the middle of the aisle and the person is looking like they want to pass you so you....
a) Take one step and move out of the way
b) Pretend like you don't see them and continue standing directly in the middle of the aisle as to make it very difficult for them to maneuver their cart around you

Now I may be an optimist but I believe most of us would trouble ourselves to take that extra step so the person with the cart could easily pass. Common courtesy right? Not here in Ecuador. Seriously, it's like all people of all ages have the "I'm not going to move" mentality. It happens to us everywhere...buses, malls, grocery stores, sidewalks… At first we thought that they were just giving us "gringos" a hard time but then we noticed that everyone does it to everyone else no matter what their race or status is.

We're getting used to it now; plus we're getting really good at making ourselves a lot smaller to squeeze by people, but it still one of those things that makes you really appreciate certain common courtesies in Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

When something frustrates you in your home country, you normally blame an individual, a restaurant, a bank, or some other company. But when you're in a foreign country and something frustrates you, I think you tend to blame the entire country.
There are some things here that frustrate Tesha and me, and we're trying not to blame all of Ecuador. The first thing to bother us is that pedestrians have no right of way whatsoever here. A couple weeks ago we almost got hit by a car when we were crossing the street at at stoplight, in a crosswalk, with the walk signal, when the driver was making a right turn. The driver, by the way, was a police officer in his police car (we stopped, not him). I immediately blamed the whole country - the Ecuadorian mountains, jungle, and all, but now I take it back. The law favors pedestrians; in fact, you'll go to jail immediately if you hit one, but I guess drivers know that pedestrians won't gamble the driver's jail sentence with their own lives. I've never blamed the USA for American drivers who aren't courteous to bike riders, but it's easy to blame Ecuador when I'm frustrated here.
Twice now I've opened a new stick of butter that was made, packaged and sold in Ecuador, and there has been a thin layer of paper from the wrapper that sticks to the butter. "Ahh! Curse the trees of Ecuador!" I've never blamed America when the Fruit Loops bag is so hard to open that you pull until it just splits down the middle all the way to the bottom.
Today I had to try hard not to be mad at Ecuador. Because some government agency in Ecuador wanted to be a pain and maybe make a little more money, Tesha and I are required to register ourselves with our visas now that we're in the country. (I thought that obtaining the visa registered us.) It's not that big of a deal, but it's annoying because we get sent from one agency to another and then back to the same one because of a lack of communications between the agencies. To make things worse, the worker at the Ecuadorian consulate in Los Angeles forgot to give me one of the documents that I need. So now we have to pay extra because "the law leaves no written exceptions that deal with our situation." In this case, I have to try extra hard not to blame all of the land in between Columbia and Peru, since the government is causing the frustration. As nice of a person as I try to be, I will admit that I had a hard time thinking nice thoughts about every Ecaudorian in a government uniform that I saw for the rest of the day.
A related frustration is that to get my Ecuadorian drivers license, I am supposed to get a document from some sort of notary public in the United States, saying that my California drivers license is legitamate. I want to ask Ecuador, "and then should I get a document saying that the document that legitamizes my license is legitamate, and then one that says that document is legitamate...," and so on. Honestly, what will probably end up happening is that the worker will act like there is nothing he can do until I hand him a 10 dollar bill along with my license and that will serve as my offcial document. It's very easy to blame all of Ecuador for the corruption and bribery that goes on here, when really it is just a small percentage of individuals to blame.

We're having a great time here; I just wanted to share this to remind travelers that if you're frustrated at a whole country, it's probably just becuase you're out of your comfort zone.
-Pete

We saw this verse in action tonight. Tonight at our English as a Second Language group we met Dario. Dario is a native Ecuadorian but speaks English fluently and works as a teacher like Pete and me. Dario is around our age and we hit it off with him right away because of his easy smile and friendly demeanor. Then we found out that we are neighbors! Dario lives with an American missionary couple right down the street from us. We decided to take a bus home together afterwards and that is when we got to hear Dario's story...

Dario is a real life Compassion International kid from the jungle village of Shell, Ecuador. He was supported by a family from Long Beach, CA until his family no longer needed the help. It was amazing to hear how much love he had for his Compassion family. He told us how he treasured the letters and pictures they sent him, and how he loved to send them his drawings and letters in return. Dario said that it was through his Compassion family that he first learned that love is an action not a word. It struck with him that some family who he had never even met would love him enough to support him to go to school and have clothes and food for his family. Dario's dad left his family when Dario was eight. His dad left behind five children and a wife. Dario said that he always knew that someone loved him because he had a Compassion International dad who always said he loved him and was proud of him.

When Dario turned 18, his mom told him that he had to leave the house and find work. She couldn't support him and his other brothers and sisters. So she gave him all the spare money she had and sent him on his way. He went to the bus station with one backpack, boarded the first bus that came, not knowing where it was going, and ended up in a town called Banos, which is a tourist city in Ecuador. He spoke only a little English but knew a tourist agent from his home town and was able to convince him to give him a job. While Dario was working in Banos, he worked to improve his English by listening to the English Christian radio station in Ecuador called HCJB. At HCJB, as a non-native English listener, you can request written copies of the programs given so that you can follow along, so Dario was one of the thousands of Ecuadorians who got regular emails of the programs from HCJB. He kept in regular contact with the HCJB correspondent named Karen.

After working in Banos for a while, Dario's boss suddenly left town. He owed Dario 2 months pay. Dario didn't know what to do so he decided to try his luck in Quito. He had no where to go once he arrived in Quito so he decided to go to the HCJB headquarters. At HCJB, Dario found Karen's office. He introduced himself to Karen and said this: "I've got nowhere to go but I want to get a job here. I can't pay you rent now, but if you let me stay in your house for 2 weeks and after the 2 weeks I don't have a job you can kick me out." Surprisingly, after speaking to her husband, Karen agreed. What started out as 2 weeks turned into 6 years. Karen and her husband Sam basically adopted Dario as one of their own. He still doesn't have to pay rent and they even paid for him to go to college. Now Dario works for an international volunteer organization called Youth World. He also still goes back to his home town to preach the gospel to the Shawiri Indians.

So the point of this story is that God uses people all the time. Dario wishes so badly that he could contact his Compassion family and to thank them for letting him become more than anyone ever thought he could. Now Dario gives back all the love that was given to him through his ministry outreach program.

Seriously this sounds like something out of Compassion International brochure but this is real life. It goes to show that you never know what kind of a difference you can make in someone's life.
Dario would love to contact the family in California that supported him through Compassion International to let them know how much they meant to him in working his way to a good life, but the branch here in Ecuador won't let him send them a letter. If anyone knows someone at Compassion International in the US who could help Dario contact the family, we'd love for you to contact us so we can help Dario contact the family.

Dario's coming over to our house for dinner tomorrow night. We're excited to have a new friend that we can learn so much from.

(Also we asked his permission to tell his story and he gave it to us gladly).

-Tesha

Now that Tesha and I have adapted to the lack of oxygen, inconsistant water temperature, buses that write where they're going on a board in the windshield, milk that comes in a bag, llamas in the front yard, and kids drooling on us, we've started developing an active social life.
We've been meeting lots of Ecuadorians by helping out at an English as a Second Language group at the church we've been going to down here. About 100 Ecuadorians come each Wednesday evening, divide into beginner, intermediate and advance, and then we listen to a reading or story in English and then talk about topics related to the story in small groups. We normally end up talking about whatever gets everyone talking since the main focus is to get them speaking English. Some of the things we've talked about include: George Bush, the many different sub-cultures in the US, places to travel in Ecuador, differences between the US and Ecuador, why the same 20 oz Coke that costs 50 cents here costs $1.50 in The States, and stereotypes about Ecuador and the US. We talked about stereotypes that other countries have about our countries and how that affects us as individuals. I mentioned how it can be suprising, and even dangerous in some countries, when people assume that because I am American I love guns. The stereotype here that one of the Ecuadorians pointed out was that people from other countries wrongly assume that because his country's government is corrupt, he is corrupt too.
To stay active here, we joined a nice, modern gym called Phisique. We have been really impressed by the quality of the gym and the community that has adopted us so nicely. Our favorite part is that there are always a couple personal trainers there to help analyze your fitness and help you do a good workout routine - something that is not very common in the US because it is so much more expensive to pay trainers in The States. We met the owner of the club, who lived in the US for awhile, and he has helped us get involved with some of the things that the club does with its members. For example, Tesha has started training with a group from the club to run a 15K in Quito in 3 weeks. The club even has a trainer just for runners. Since Quito is 9,500 feet above sea level, we've had to work our lungs hard to adjust, but we'll have a great advantage when we go back to the US where we had been living at 13 feet above sea level.
We've also started riding mountain bikes around the city, which is a great way to get to know the city. Yesterday I rode to Metropolitan Park, which overlooks the city from the outskirts, to try out some of the park's excellent mountain bike trails. The park is huge. To give you an idea of how big it is, I rode my bike for half an our in one direction and then got to a sign that said there was an overlook in 5 more kilometers (3.1 miles); the park is round too, so it is that far in each direction. The park is very diverse with hundreds of trails, a lagoon, a water plant, basketball courts, obstacle courses, soccer fields (Ecuadorians turn any field into a soccer field), volleyball courts (volleyball is popular here because you can use a soccer ball and a string connected between two poles), snack and juice stores, tons of playgrounds scattered about, awkward modern art scattered about, streams, waterfalls, and so on.
At the very top of the park there is a stereotypical third world community of a couple hundred Ecuadorians living in door-less cinder block homes. The community seems self-sufficient; it's likely that they hardly even use money as a means of trade. Kids, with much darker skin than the people we'd see at the upper-class fitness club, play between the houses with anything that they can pretend to be a soccer ball. Stray dogs looking for trash, and chickens that appear stray roam the streets. There's one dirt rode that runs by the edge of the community and I stopped in the middle of it, knowing that no cars would be coming through, ate some peanuts, watched an organized soccer game between competitively serious 30-year-old men, and soaked up the feeling of being the only white person on the planet. Despite the unfamiliar setting, I felt suprisingly safe and I enjoyed how everyone who passed me greeted me as if they genuinely cared how I was doing.
On my way back to modern civilization I took a fun trail through woods in the middle of nowhere and at one point had to get off my bike when 6 horses, 2 cows and 2 llamas, which apparently roam free around the park, were hanging out in the middle of my path.
-Pete

After spending the night in the subwoofer and then the next morning walking around Atacames, declining a myriad of "cheap priced" gadgets, we decided to head to the more peaceful town, Same (pronounced 'Sah-May'). Atatacems is a really nice beach, with a nice beach break for surfing (much like north Zuma Beach, if you know it, except the waves stay open longer), but we were ready for some relaxation.
Along the beach towns, guys drive bike taxis where there is a chariot cart for two riders attached to the front of beach cruiser bike. Some of the guys have gotten smart and replaced their bicycle with a motorcycle, using the money they save in buying water bottles to pay off the motorcycle. Since Same is only about 6 miles from Atacames we found a motorcycle-taxi-cart guy who was willing to take us there for five bucks. It lightly drizzled most of the ride and then most of the day, but we didn't really care because it's so humid any way that you can hardly feel a difference in the air.
After another hotel finding adventure in which we decided to spend a little extra on a nicer hotel and then changed our minds since everything in the nicer hotel was broken, we ended up landing at the first hotel that we had looked at an hour earlier. The owners of this small hotel, "Casa De Amigos" were so nice that we decided we would have a better time with them then we would with unfriendly people in a "luxury" hotel with good air conditioning and a big bathroom. Choosing Casa De Amigos would end up being the highlight of my trip.
Same is a very laid back beach town. Take away the ocean, sand, beach huts and old fashioned canoes, and the attitude that you sense from all of the locals will still relax you. We love the restaurant that is right next door to our hotel, so we went there for practically every meal. It's beach front - of course the town is so small that everything is on the beach. The same guy who sat us would take our order and then turn on everything in the kitchen before calling his wife or sister to do the cooking. The menus are really just to give you an idea of the type of food they serve; what really happens is that you ask the owner/waiter/co-chef what he recommends that day, because that is what they just brought in off the boat. One night the waiter recommended a delicious seafood assortment plate that would have gone for at least $25 in The States - we paid $7.20 and that included tax and tip. I drank the sauce it came in like it was soup when we were done. Seafood is so abundant in these coast towns that they serve shrimp and clams as side dishes with every meal.
So back to the hotel owned by the really nice people. It was a pretty quiet weekend and the owners are doing some painting, so we were the only short term guests. The owners, 3 Germans - Gabriela, Rudy, and Michael - invited us to eat dinner with them our first night. I was a little skeptical about how nice they were at first (maybe they were going to poisen us and steal our camera or something), but soon I realized that they just enjoy life and their new hotel project so much that it gave them pleasure to make sure that we had a great time. The next day Rudy offered us use of just about everything he could think of, mostly the boogey boards and goggles, but even his washing machine. If his motorcycles would have been ready to run, he would have let us take those for a spin too. The owners have been living all over the world operating ranches and fun adventures, so we're looking forward to later in the summer when they get everything up and running. They're even planning on buying a catamaran to do sailing trips to the Galapagos islands, so hopefully I can get in on that for a trip as some sort of workhand or something. If you're reading this and planning on going to the beach in Ecuador, let me know and I'll put you in contact with the Casa De Amigos owners.
It was cool to ride through all the different areas of Ecuador on the bus - the mountains, rainforest with waterfalls, jungle, river valley and coast. We saw the super 3rd world side of Ecuador: communities of families living in huts near the river with no electricity, running water or glass windows.
Even on the coast no one seems to have hot water, but you wouldn't want to take a hot shower anyway because, even with cool water, by the time you finish drying off, you feel wet again from the humidity.
-Pete