Dios Mio (My God!)

On my second night here in Quito, I had my first encounter with Ecua-religion, which by our standards, is more like a very inclusive superstitious club than a religion. I´m really lucky that Sara was with me because my cultural sensitivity was really put to the test with this experience which went something like this:.

Sara and I returned to the house about 7:30pm after a hard day of TEFL classes and practice teaching to find Dorita and Eddie formally entertaining our grandparents and two mystery visitors in the sitting room, which we know already is only used for very serious occasions. After a few minutes of small talk and introductions, the group invited us to accompany them to Dorita´s aunt´s house down the street and we enthusiastically obliged. As we processed down the steps and out into the winding streets of the neighborhood, I realized Dorita was carrying a veiled bassinette that seemed to be the reason for our trip. I rushed over to her to see who this mysterious baby was. Upon peering through the lacy veil, I realized that the inhabitant wasn´t a baby at all, but rather a cheezy plastic molded doll of the Baby Jesus whose face was halfway rubbed off and could be purchased at the dollar store. As we paraded through the neigborhood, family friends and neighbors began walking up to the bassinette, peering in, and tickling the plastic chin as they gurgled and cooed at it. Just as I thought the experience couldnt get any more storyworthy, we arrived at the aunt´s house where we were welcomed by the light of a flaming altar. Dorita planted the Baby Jesus on the shrine and we all held hands as one of the mystery guests said prayers and worshipped the plastic idol with the whole of her being. After about 20 hail marys and several bible verses which I politely declined to read because I was afraid my pronounciation would ruin the piousness of it all, we turned on the lights and toasted each other with homemade flower wine and cookies.

Now, strange as this experience may seem, there is actually a really heartwarming story behind the whole thing. We later learned that this procession is a neighborhood ritual that has been going on for over 14 years in my Quito neighborhood, "La Loma Grande". The people are so united that every couple of months they assess the happenings of the community and pick one family to house the Baby Jesus so that he may look after their home, blessing them, and bringing good tidings. As Dorita and Eddie had only been married a few months before, they had had the honor of hosting so that the baby would bring luck and love to their union. We had witnessed the passing of the baby to Dorita´s aunt who was having health problems and could really use the prayers and support of the community. I was truly touched, despite having initially been a little creeped out. Anyone want to pass a baby with me when I get home?

I have since come to find out that while 90% of the country is supposedly Catholic, the majority of people do not attend church. This is particularly perplexing because people such as Eddie and Dorita and my grandparents Mamita and Papita have images of Christ and his disciples plastered around the house. "The Last Supper" is proudly displayed over the kitchen table in both houses, one version an oversized framed print of Da Vinci´s work, the other a metal cutout which in the last couple days has boinged halfway off its base and is now a 3-dimensional scupture looming over our meals. If the normal nightly happenings are this good, I cant wait to make the trip to church.

Shake It Up

Last night was the last day of orientation and thus we embarked to the Bodeguita de Cuba to celebrate. It turns out that "Cuban" Ecuadorian food isnt too different from normal Ecuadorian food....basically a whole lot of rice, some kind of bland meat such as a chicken leg, fresh and delicious blackberry juice, a leaf of lettuce with some chopped tomato that may or may not make you sick, and a side of carbs (most likely potatoes, yucca, or fried plantains, which a bitter green starchy banana). As the groups collected at the warm, tropical restaurnat located in the neighborhood natives call "Gringolandia" or "White/Foreinger-person land", we reflected about the past 4 weeks and spent some much needed down-time getting to know each other better. The real fun came after the meal when the lights were suddenly dimmed and bottles filled with rice were distributed around the room to keep time with live music that had commenced unexpectedly. After having struggled our way through over 75 hours or TEFOL training and over 50 additional hours of both cultural and language training, we gringos got crazy with those shakers. We shook it to the left, to the right, and even banged it on the tables. We shook it with all the passion that had been building up over the weeks as our Ecuadorian counterparts outdanced us at the clubs, discos and family gatherings, mocking our sense of rhythm. And we didnt stop there. We keep on shaking it right outta that restaurant and across the street to a local pub about the size of a walk-in closet where we proceeded to order skunked gigantic bottles of beer for $1 and sing happy birthday with the locals. We then headed back onto the street, still shaking it, until we found the nearest karoake bar. And Ecua-karoake isnt your average karoake either. It is filled with blantly wrong English translations that pop up on that screen, and a program that actually rates your performance based on a program that matches your pitch and tone to the original artist. And did I mention that there is one of these establishments on every corner? The people here are obsessed. After Kane´s rendition of "You´ve Lost That Loving Feeling", my best effort at "Rhiannon", and Mike´s "I´m Too Sexy For My Shirt", we had not just shaken up that karaoke bar, but the entire city. It was so great to bond with these amazing people and give the Ecuadorians a run for their money. I wonder where the nearest karoake bar in Ibarra is? I guess I find out tomorrow, when I arrive.

Ecuajokes

I´ve heard it said here that the jokes the people make are representative of their culture. If thats true, than Ecuador and the United States have more in common than I thought. Almost all the jokes Ive been able to decipher in Spanish have to do with sex and a few with politics. Two in particular stand out in my mind and go something like this:

1) A boy goes to school and his teacher asks him what his mother does for a living. He replies that she is a substitute. "A substitute teacher?" asks the boy´s teacher. "No." "Well where does she work?" "On the streets." " So then she is a prostitute?" "No," says the boy, "My aunt is the prostitute and my mom is her substitute." It is slightly funnier with the aliteration that happens in Spanish but not much.

2) I had a meeting with my new boss at my site in Ibarra. After about a 3-minute introduction he told me his motto on the importance of immersion when learning languages. "The best way to learn a language is to sleep with the professor. That way you´ll learn really quick and even get to practice." Huh huh huh.

Anyone laughing yet? Im in for a true "cultural experience".

Here We Go

Hi all. I have finally been able to find some time to post about my life and work here in Ecuador. So far, life has been charming. I really couldnt have picked a better program. The directors Liz and Therese are beyond organized, have executed amazing teaching training seminars, and even know how to jampack our schedules with fun activities like salsa lessons without completely overwhelming us. The group is also an amazing group of overachivers- jesse went to princeton and just did the Tuck Bridge Business Program at Dartmouth this past summer, Mike is from Aurora but deferred at Harvard law to be here, Sarah wrote grants fror a nonprofit in San Fran, Erin worked for Oprah for 2 years and quit her job to come, Josh defered med school at BU...the list goes on. I am in the presence of greatness but everyone is really grounded, as evidenced by the fact that walked away from their success in the US and decided to get busy living or die (of malaria) trying (instead of working themselves to death in corporate America). I really feel I made the right decision and the rest will fall into place. Both Kane and I have amazing families here in Quito. His house is much nicer but he has a 40 minute commute every day to our learning sites. I am only a 15 minute ride but my neighborhood can be a little dangerous after 10 at night and I dont have hot showers. Eddie (29) and Dorita (21), my host parents, are absolutely amazing. I share them with another girl in our group, Sara. We each have our own rooms seperate from the house so we have privacy and I even have a queen size bed. They have welcomed us with so much warmth and genuine enthusiasm for hosting. Our first night here was spent at the family quincinera,
a true right of passage in the life of a teenage girl here. The family´s home was decked out in hot pink streamers with a barbie-looking cake to match. All the female cousins twirled about the floor in glitzy looking prom dresses. Eddy´s family really enjoys spending time together, especially dancing and singing with guitar accompanyment. I am so glad to be included in the family dynamic.