Nighttime View/ Independence

This is the city of Ambato from my apartment, which now features 3 plastic chairs and a string of Christmas lights. I'm making friends. It feels good to have people sit in my chairs.

November 12 was Ambato's independence day. Besides having the day off, I watched a parade (morning) and fireworks (night) from my porch. I've now attended 3 parades in 3 different cities in a span of 9 days, so I consider myself an expert. Ambato's independence parade was a bit weak... mostly high school marching bands and girls with batons. And it only lasted 2 hours-- SO short in Ecuadorian parade time.

Throughout the weekend, there were also free concerts in the open-air theater adjacent to my house. The first night was death metal. The second night was off-key evangelical praise music. I found both rather excruciating-- too much screaming and no dancing at either one. Living next-door to an outdoor theater also makes your stoop a public urinal. And in an extra-fun twist, the city shut off my water for 24 hours with no warning (Viva Ambato!). My neighbors, of course, saw the water thing coming, and laughed when I knocked on their door to ask why I couldn't shower.

Mama Negra Highlights

La Limpieza/ The Cleansing Part 1: These Juacos or witches are praying I am spared from the wrath of nearby Volcano Cotopaxi. If, like me, you've lost all notion of "personal space," it's really quite a nice blessing. Also pretty Catholic, despite the antlers and facepaint.

La Limpieza/ The Cleansing Part 2: This man spit-sprays sugercane alcohol all over me. As the Juacos leave, it's customary to give them change as a sign of gratitude for the cleansing (and presumably to help offset the cost of spraying several thousand people with alcohol).

Here's a brief recap the Mama Negra (literally "Black Mama") festival in Latacunga, which was by far the weirdest Saturday of my life. I also recommend reading Chandra's full account of Saturday's festivities here.

La Mama Negra herself.

As mentioned previously, no one knows exactly where this huge carnival-esque phenomenon originates. My googling and informal interviews indicate that Mama Negra is a combination of things:

- A ritual to ensure Latacunga isn't flattened by Volcano Cotopaxi... again.
- A reenactment of the first time local indigenous people saw Black slaves, who the Spanish brought to work in nearby mines.
- A celebration of the expulsion of the Moors from Spain in 1492.

It's like Carnival meets Where the Wild Things Are.

Mama Negra kicks off with an enormous parade that lasts several hours. Pretty much every man, woman and child in a 100-mile radius marches, plays in a band, dances, or performs as a character. There are lots of men in dresses. And it's interactive-- the crowd does not merely watch, but participates.

Alcohol is central. Everyone in the crowd can expect to receive at least one spontaneous "cleansing" (see my experience above). Characters also approach you and shove bottles of cane alcohol in your face, which means "drink." Turning down alcohol at Mama Negra is considered rude and contrary to the spirit of the festival.

Volcano Cotopaxi

Mama Negra is ambiguously religious. Throughout the parade, men carry these enormous altars with whole roasted pigs, bottles of alcohol, other assorted dead animals... and, a picture of the Virgin Mary.

Mama Negra might be an overtly racist, disgusting interpretation of "blackness." The central spectacle of the parade is the appearance of "Mama Negra" herself-- a white male in blackface and women's clothing, spraying milk onto the crowd from her "breast." Other central characters in the parade include The Moorish King, The White Angel, and some swamp monsters (see photo of me, some fellow Fulbrighters, and a few characters above).

Lenin Moreno, the Vice-President of Ecuador. Sitting in the crowd. Love it.

So, now you know about Mama Negra, kind of. If you found this post hard to follow, and aren't sure what to make of this festival, I'm right there with you.
 

At Least 3 Readers Will Appreciate This

For a seriously good laugh regarding the recent deer-in-campus-commons incident at Denison University (my alma mater), I recommend Betsy Fischer's interview with an eyewitness.

Happy Birthday

To my sister Jenny, who is 20 today, who can make me laugh just by glancing in my direction, who is basically the peanut butter to my jelly, who I want to be when I grow up, and who will hopefully smile upon reading this.

Life-Altering Decisions

There are many huge, complex decisions one must negotiate while building a life in a new culture. The personal and intellectual growth that comes from figuring out who to trust, what to love, and where to go is interesting and important. But that's not what this post is about. Instead, I want to explain instead some of the small, trivial decisions which actually occupy my brain most of the time:

Ordinary view in Ambato

Issue: Long, crowded bus rides.
Options: 1.) Stand. 2.) Sit. But, with the person who didn't get a seat's crotch in your face, trying to inhale shallowly through your mouth, since the crotch in question is radiating a dead-animal-esque odor.

Issue: Laundry.
Options: 1.) Wash by hand in concrete pit. Pros include a bit of exercise, saving $5-$10, and the satisfaction of knowing you are capable of being like all the locals. Cons include the sneaking suspicion that nothing actually gets that clean, a backache, and clothes that (without the heat of a dryer) always fit awkwardly loose. 2.) Take to laundromat. Pros include ease, fresh smells, and the shrinking power of a dryer. Cons include having to carry your laundry several blocks to a laundromat that is only open 1 in every 4 times you go, while locals chuckle at your inability to wash by hand, and the loss of $5-$10 (which will buy several multiple-course meals).

Terrible Brazilian telenovela I was once addicted to.

Issue: Entertainment.
Options: 1.) Purchase a TV, entertain yourself, and submit to the 4 ridiculous telenovela-filled stations since there's no cable hookup in your apartment. 2.) Don't purchase a TV. Perhaps enhance intelligence by reading a book, but lose touch with local/regional news, and- bummer- the internet isn't fast enough to stream video.

Holiday Line Up

I have the week off! Monday through Wednesday are national holidays, and the only days I teach anyway. Here's the multi-cultural, travel-intensive celebration agenda:

October 31 (USA): Halloween. Lewis' take holidays pretty seriously, but Halloween was an especially big deal growing up. My Dad and Uncle Dave would drive my sisters, cousins and I around in this weird hay tractor contraption through the Cleveland snow. (Left to Right: Chris as masked ghoul, me as best-facepaint-ever clown, Mike as armed Batman, Dana as cheerleader, Jenny as cute fairy, Catie as witch. We'd probably all be the exact same things today). And yes, Mom, I remember the incinerated coat incident, almost as much as the Christmas-Day-"excuse-me-your-house-is-on-fire" incident. Although I wasn't able to attend, this year I was invited to the US Embassy in Quito for Trick-or-Treating/ Happy Hour.

November 2 (Latin America): Dia de los Muertos/ Day of the Dead. Like its more famous Mexican counterpart, Ecuadorians flock to cemeteries to honor dead relatives. The symbols and traditions, however, are nothing alike. In highland Ecuador we eat guaguas de pan (bread babies, like the one I made in 2008 on right) and drink colada morada (a purple fruit cider, prep pictured above).

November 3 (Ecuador): Fiestas de Cuenca. All the major cities have their own annual "fiestas" or independence celebrations. This makes for lots of national holidays. Today I'm traveling 6 hours south to Cuenca with a few friends to live the party firsthand.

November 6 (Everywhere): Diwali, or the Hindu festival of lights, is the most important holiday on the Hindu calendar. I'm celebrating in Quito. "Diwali involves the lighting of small clay lamps (diyas)  filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. During Diwali celebrants wear new clothes and share sweets and snacks with family members and friends." An Indian-American Fulbrighter here in Ecuador will be missing his home culture, so he's invited all the grantees over to celebrate.

November 7 (Latacunga, Ecuador): La Mama Negra. In typical Ecuadorian fashion, no one is sure why this holiday exists, although people love it. One website says: "The general consensus is that the festival was established when the Cotopaxi volcano erupted in 1742 and it seemed that Latacunga would be destroyed. The locals of the region petitioned the Virgin of Mercy, the patron of Cotopaxi, to spare Latacunga. When the town escaped the wrath of the volcano, an annual celebration was set in place in her honor." Bottom line: The whole city (which is about 1 hour north of me) turns into a giant party.

Mailing Addresses

Letters/ sentimental value only:

Pizarro #01-09 y Cortéz

Ciudadela Vicentina

Ambato, Ecuador

(and because I don't trust the provincial mail system):

Packages/ carries material value:

Kimberly Lewis, Becaria

Comisión Fulbright del Ecuador

Diego de Almagro N25-41 y Av. Colón

Quito, Ecuador 

Some Recent Happenings (Mostly Food)

I am continuing to learn to use my little blue gas stove, which has two temperatures: treacherously hot and absolute Hades. Good for quickly boiling water. Bad for low-temp foods. It also potentially leaks gas just a little bit, so I keep the kitchen windows open. -->

- Last week I attended M's 5th birthday party, so I also ventured into the oven (I consider baked goods the highest form of social currency). High altitude + 8 million degree oven = cookie nightmare. And yet, you would have thought  I had brought chocolate encrusted gold leafs to the party. People loved them. I'm now charged with teaching every Ecuadorian housewife in a ten mile radius how to make gringa cookies (secret: back of the tollhouse chocolate chip bag).

<-- A friend invited me to visit her husband's family's farm in Patate. Patate is a lovely agricultural village about 30 minutes south of me, at the foot of Volcan Tunguraha (a volcano which has been actively erupting for 11 years). We went on a hike and watched her Uncle's soccer team (players aged 13-60, it was awesome) play in the rain. We ate a LOT. First a huge lunch. Then avocados and mandarin oranges from their farm. Then in town we had fritada, which is a typical Ecuadorian dish of fried pork, potatoes, plantains, and corn-- prepared in a huge brass dish over an open fire. If pork-fat covered stuff is your thing, you'd like it here.

(thanks google images, since my camera broke) -->
- I'm continuing to search for a public pool in Ambato. It's getting serious. I need chlorine and the familiarity of swimming laps. Plus, the black plumes of smoke radiating from city buses make this a less-than-desirable place to jog. I had one lead, but when I called, the man laughed and told me the pool is closed for repairs. "Pool closed for repairs" meant at LEAST 1-2 weeks at the US Army Base I used to train at. So, in Ecuadorian time, I can only assume we're looking at a Spring 2011 reopening for Ambato's pool.

On Being Different

There are not many other Americans here in Ambato. I don't know any, actually. This isn't a tourist destination. Here are some thoughts on being hopelessly different, from someone who has spent much of her life being similar to those around:

People stare. I could be doing the most ordinarily Ecuadorian thing exactly like an Ecuadorian would, and people would still stare. I feel like a celebrity. Or a zoo animal. Sometimes at the same time. Children turn their heads to stare when I'm walking down the sidewalk. People watch what I purchase in the grocery store and how I get on and off the bus. Being "under-the-radar" is rarely an option. Invisibility is impossible.

My individual and cultural differences are a popular topic of conversation here. Cab drivers gush about the color of my eyes. Coworkers touch my earrings. Friends comment on the way my clothing fits, the way I sit, the way I laugh, the way I write, the way I sneeze (I've been told I sneeze in English), the way I dance and sing, and the way I carry my grocery bags.

About 99% of the time I do not mind being different. I let people stare, I laugh at jokes even if I don't fully understand why they're funny, and I happily deflect the advances of creepy cab drivers. But 1% of the time I just want to sneeze and carry grocery bags without all the fuss, you know? I want to tell English jokes to people who will laugh, I want to fit in, and I want to look like everyone else. 1% usually comes on Mondays.

Series of Unrelated Things I Like

<-- I need to see Mamachas del Ring, a documentary that follows female indigenous wrestler in Bolivia, ASAP.

*Alex Getz is a talented photographer and first-year MFA student at Savannah College of Art and Design. (He's also my cousin.) His new blog, Geronimo Projects, highlights the local art scene in Savannah. You can also view his personal portfolio at Alex Getz Photography.

* Chandra Brown is a fellow Fulbright ETA here in Ecuador. When not teaching in Latacunga, she is collecting stories around river life, in order to do a comparative study between Ecuadorian and Alaskan (her home state) river folklore. Her blog "Cuentos" is honest and smart; I especially recommend her overview of Ecuador's education system  and proposed reforms to higher ed.

*I love Hidden World of Girls, a new multi-media series on NPR: "Stories of coming of age, rituals and rites of passage, secret identities—of women who crossed a line, blazed a trail, changed the tide."

Apartment: Chapter 2

This is my big, empty living room. I'm thinking about investing in a small TV for that little table. Other options include buying some incense and starting a community yoga studio, getting giant canvasses and making it my painting space (wish i knew how to paint),  or acquiring some roller skates.

This is the view from my terrace. The largest white building on the far left is Ambato's main cathedral, which was rebuilt in 1949 after an earthquake flattened the city. People are still talking about the Great Earthquake. It's part legend ("the earth split open and swallowed people"), part remembrance, and part warning ("we're past due for another one..."). It's also a way to scare the crap out of foreigners who have never lived on a fault line.

This is where I work. Through that little window is the kitchen. When I lock myself out of the kitchen (the complexity of my locks deserves its own blog entry), I can shimmy through that window to get into it.

This is where I will wash my clothes, when I figure out how people typically use concrete pits to wash clothes.

 This is evidence of a few things. 1. I do actually have some stuff in my apartment. 2. There are people nice enough in Ambato to lend me a bed, and a mattress. 2. That free blanket they gave to coaches/athletes at National Swimming Championships in 2009 was the best gift the NCAA ever gave.

Apartment: Chapter 1

 

In 2008, a woman in Muisne gave me the best advice I ever received about living in Ecuador. She said that if you want anything-- anything-- tell 10 people. Just mention it. Relationships are serious business here. Each person will direct you to another. Many will make several phone calls on your behalf. If you have the patience to weave this confusing web of acquaintances, you're bound to get what you want by person #10.

That said, I'm renting an apartment from my friend's student's mother's cousin's ex-husband. The apartment was not only unlisted, but not even for rent. It has sat empty for years. After some coercing from the chain of aforementioned people, this man decided he is comfortable renting to someone he "knows" (yes, our 5 degrees of separation constitutes "knowing") and who will, in his assessment, "not steal and not have children." Glad I fit the bill.

My apartment came with hot running water, gas, and a full kitchen. But no furniture. Thanks to the generosity of Ambatenos and "rule of 10", I have acquired the basics: a bed, blankets/sheets, a few little tables, a chair or two, some pots/pans. My rent is cheap enough to purchase other necessities as the weeks wear on. But why did I want it, really? The view. I'm on the top floor at the top of a hill, I have a private terrace area, and my kitchen is almost completely windows. I can see most of the city, and at night, it's really quite stunning. I'm also in a quiet/safe neighborhood, close to bus routes, and a couple blocks from my adoptive family. And I have a guest bedroom with your name on it.

The first two photos are outside. A note about picture 2: that's not my bathroom, but my throne-- a toilet from a bathroom that was never finished. People often run out of money and stop building partway through projects. The kitchen is split off from the rest of the apartment, so I have two outside doors. Photo 3 is the kitchen. More photos to come when my internet is not so painfully slow.

Home Movies

 

 N and M saw me skyping with my sister. So, naturally, we spent the rest of the night playing with my webcam.This is the first and most candid of several installments (they kept getting more and more choreographed as the night went on).

My Job as an ETA (in theory)

My first week in Ambato is going well. I'm getting situated, meeting LOTS of people, and promptly forgetting their names. I've also started teaching at the University. Comision Fulbright establishes guidelines for my work as an English Teaching Assistant (ETA). It occurs to me it may be beneficial to explain what those are:

My purpose at Universidad Tecnica de Ambato-- la U-- is to provide a unique linguistic and cultural perspective, offer students/professors the opportunity to practice with a native speaker, and  generally enrich the department. I'm not responsible for teaching entire courses, or giving grades. (Great rejoicing). This is a 1/2 teaching, 1/2 research grant. So I work part time-- 20 hours each week--Monday through Wednesdays. Teaching is the most public thing I do, and I'm thankful for the instant community, some pretty awesome students, research leads, and friends, since I'm just a hopeless gringuita fending for myself.  With the rest of my time, I'm developing my own research and-- at least for the next few months-- writing grad school applications. 

I’m coordinating a new program called “English Club,” which is basically an ungraded, co-curricular conversation hour for undergraduate students who want extra oral practice. Each course will have an optional hour with Profesora Kimberly every week. I'll prepare for these, but I want sessions to be pretty informal. I'm also holding lots of open office hours, where students and professors can come in to get extra help/practice. Everyone has been SUPER chatty so far. Not only do people want to practice English, but find out if I’m married (#1 question), where I’m from, how old I am, all about my family …. etc. etc.  I think my office hours will be busy. Probably karma for hogging my own Professors’ office hours in college.

Also, I get to take 2 classes at the university for free. I’m trying to enroll in a Quichua language class. I just have to catch one of the higher-ups in administration to get permission.

My First Friends

While I look for a more permanent place to live, I've been staying with Mayorie, the English Professor making sure I get settled into the University and into Ambato. She is wonderful. In typical Ecuadorian fashion, she checks every 2 minutes to make sure I'm well fed, comfortable, and happy. I've also been spending  significant time with her two daughters, N (7) and M (5). The girls have notified me that we're pretty much best friends, and I shouldn't move out. M has invited me to her 6th birthday party next week. We're also in serious negotiations regarding my bear, which they falsely believe is on the trading market.

Kids are exceedingly loving, patient, and (as I've discovered) accepting of foreigners. They're also privvy to this curious world where everything's half-imaginary, can be converted into a song, and they're at the center. I think I'm still a kid in that way. Mayo had a meeting last night, so I offered to take care of the girls since she's been so generous with me. Tasks: homework, dinner, baths. Simple, totally universal things? False. Children are not the same worldwide. The way people take care of their children (and therefore want the babysitter to take care of their children) is totally contingent on their culture, which in this case, is not mine.

The craziness started with homework. M had to cut out a bunch of things from a magazine, but is left-handed and has SERIOUS scissors issues (see picture above). N goes to a Catholic school, and had to write a prayer to a Virgin, then produce a final draft in her best handwriting. First of all, I'm not Catholic, nor was I at any point educated by nuns, so my virgin-prayer-writing skills are not up to par. Secondly, my handwriting sucks, and I don't even remember how to write in cursive. Teachers are weirdly serious about handwriting here, even through high school and college. So I'm not sure how much help I was, the nuns are probably angry. Dinner started OK, but ended in us basically eating spoonfuls of my American JIF peanut butter. I knew that jar would come in handy. Only one girl got a bath, since we were distracted playing a game that involves this slightly inappropriate song about a monkey and a hairy butt: "Un mono/ muy peludo/ se metio la mano en el culo/ cuantos pelos se saco?" But when Mom got home, everyone was happy, and I think that's what matters.

Next up: KIM GETS APARTMENT IN ECUADOR (seriously, i just found one today).

Good Morning Ambato

This is the view from my super swank hotel in Ambato. Luckily, since I'm not on a super swank budget, I'm moving in with my supervisor today until I find a more permanent place to live. So it'll be me, my supervisor (she runs the English language program at the University), her husband, two hilariously cute daughters (ages 5 +7) and their awesome dog for a bit. Last night we all went to the mall to get ice cream and play in the toystore. The girls are beyond pumped for me to stay at their house, they think it's like one giant sleepover designed for their amusement.

I also start at the University today. I'm going to set my schedule and get situated. From what I understand, the University mostly wants me to run English conversation groups. These will be optional, ungraded, small classes for students who want oral practice with a native speaker. Consequently, I've been told my schedule will be flexible, and I'll only be working with students who really want to work with me. Not to incite jealousy in all the other teachers, but those two things are pretty much a dream.

Orientating

 (the inside of Comision Fulbright del Ecuador-->)
I've been here 5 days, and I have: bought a cell phone, opened a bank account, received my first stipend (yet to find an effective method of getting to the money, but it's there), gone to the embassy for a scary horrible security briefing, completed roughly 20 stacks of paperwork, found a temporary place to stay in Ambato, and done a whole host of other little things to start life here. I would like to pause and appreciate the magnitude of these bureaucratic achievements. Here in Ecuador, errands inevitably begin with waiting in a chaotic room, where you must elbow old ladies to hold your position in line. Then you must talk to about 6 different people about the nature of the errand you are trying to complete-- all of whom furiously type, ask you to sign 18 things, scribble illegible things on pieces of paper, and direct you to the next window. I recently discovered that if you skip a window (even by accident because you're just a gringa who didn't quite understand), armed security will approach you like the very fate of the country depended on the flow of the windows. You eventually leave the office/business, with only a vague idea of what you've actually done.

I have spent the last few days at Comision Fulbright for orientation. It was fun and informative, nothing like the DC orientation this summer. On Friday, a bunch of Ecuadorian Professors came in to lecture about various topics, like the current political situation and what might be called "500 years of Ecuadorian history in an hour." I was pretty into it. Basically nerd paradise. Yesterday we took a 'Fulbright group bonding' field trip. We bused a few hours outside of Quito, hiked through a cloud forest, and zip-lined across six valleys. Um, best orientation ever? My supervisor came from Ambato to meet with me last week. She seems wonderful. 3 families in Ambato want to adopt me, including a former Ecuadorian Fulbrighter (he studied at Arizona State). But I might actually like to live alone. So who knows where I'll end up.

There are 14 US student grantees in Ecuador this year-- 4 ETAs (English Teaching Assistants, like me) and 10 research grantees. All students have research projects, yes, including us lowly English teachers. The projects range from chronic child malnutrition to Colombian refugees to a film about sex trafficking in Quito. Grantees range from recent graduates, to PhD students working on their dissertations, and there is one woman doing a post-doc. There are also 3 visiting scholars from the US, who are teaching at Ecuadorian universities. I took a LOT of notes at the Commission and the Embassy this week, but here are a few things I learned:

- I have a 20 hr/week max work commitment at the University. I'm a TA, so I won't teach my own classes...thank you Jebus. I'm also the only native English speaker in the languages department.

- Anthropologists estimate that 30-35% of Ecuadorians are ethnically and culturally indigenous, though only 12% willingly self-identify as indigenous in the census.

- About 1/3rd of all Ecuadorian children are chronically malnourished. About 1/2 are iron-anemic.

- Due to huge numbers of Ecuadorians leaving the country, "New York City is the 3rd largest city in Ecuador."

- Cotopaxi is the highest active volcano in the world, overdue for an eruption, and is quite close to Ambato (it can also be seen from Quito on a clear day- picture above from Google). Cotopaxi is white and snowy, but due to climate change, all glaciers will be gone from the volcano in 40 years.

chayana/ llegar/ to arrive

<-- (current view)
I arrived in Ecuador two nights ago, after calm flights, calm immigration/customs proceedings, and a calm car trip to a lovely hostel in "la mariscal" or "new town" Quito. It was the smoothest trip ever. After so many months of wrath, the Get-to-Ecuador deities must have finally been smiling on me.

I'm enjoying the initial euphoria of arrival. Or maybe it's just the high altitude and subsequent daze. In any case, I feel unexpectedly comfortable in Quito. This is the best part of my transient life. I attach to places, learn how to adjust quickly, and have many "homes." It is good to return and realize that, at some point, Quito became one of those homes. It has taken about a day of exploring the north-central part of the city to almost entirely re-orient myself to its layout, major streets and landmarks, and public metro lines. Of course, I'm in for a shock when I move to Ambato next week, since that is completely unfamiliar.

My Spanish is awkward. Verbalizing words I know (once knew?) has been difficult so far, and my accent seems to have fizzled in my post-graduate stupor. Hopefully I will relocate my rhythm and voice soon. Another Fulbrighter staying at my hostel just returned from teaching in China for a year, so I have it way less rough than her. Also on the topic of language, I am trying to form the habit of learning a few Quichua words every day.  Chayana (Quichua) = llegar (Spanish)  = to arrive ;  Cuyana = amar = to love ; Pictuna = aprender = to learn.

Today

Packing creates such an identity crisis. I started by packing everything Ideal-Kim would want to have in Ecuador. Ideal-Kim wants to bring practical stuff she has never actually used, but remains convinced she will need in her new life, as a real-life adult. But I'm not Ideal-Kim, just Kim, pretty much the same person who would rather default on a utilities bill than drink cheap wine or bad lattes.  When I realize this, I take out the TEFL (teaching english as a foreign language) book and replace it with a jar of peanut butter. I'm totally unprepared to teach English, and no book of TEFL crossword puzzles is going to spare my students. American peanut butter, however, might truly lessen the blow of this impending culture shock.

Besides, I'm pretty sure the only really important thing to bring is myself. Today is the day. I'm on my way to the airport, and I am ready.

What to Pack

I am a horrible packer. I usually remember the most unnecessary things, like glasses lens cleaner or that little days-of-the-week-pill-container, and forget underwear, or pills for my container. This time I'm starting with four piles: "Yes," "I hope I have room," ":( No" and "Why do I even own this?!" Hopefully this will help me stay organized. Here's what it looks like so far:

<-- YES: Basically all my money, in coins and small bills. Ecuador is like a weird vacuum of correct change. You should always try and have the exact amount you're about to pay, since no one will have change for you.



No, sadly: My dog Calvin. He doesn't stay in his pile very well.  -->

<-- YES/ NO: One is an Ecuadorian soccer jersey and the other is a Rafael Correa t-shirt.I'll let you guess which one I am taking, since it will still make me friends.

-->
YES: Batteries (totally expensive down there, another great mystery), notebooks, pens to have everywhere because I can't think unless my hand is writing, Tums for unfamiliar food (and because I think they're like candy), benadryl for all the weird crap I perpetually discover I'm allergic to, and a potpourri of meds for all the illnesses I can only assume I will get, given past experience.

A Bit of Ill-timed Political Instability

<-- (Screenshot of the only time I've ever seen Ecuador on CNN's front page! Although "Ecuadorian President Rescued During Gun Battle" wasn't what I had in mind.)

The chaos and tension of yesterday's events in Ecuador has ceded, so I'll offer a brief update on where things stand. Much of my research has centered around Ecuadorian national politics, and specifically current President Correa's government, so I've been following the events very closely. I could talk for hours about where this protest (and whether it was an attempted coup by the police) stems from. I'll spare you. For a quick synopsis I recommend the NYT or the BBC. The BBC has also published first-hand accounts from people in Ecuador HERE and HERE. Many people report that thieves and looters were their biggest concerns (since police presence vanished), and many more people said that things were relatively normal. And I like normal.

I am planning to fly to Quito on Monday. The airport reopened last night. I will have someone from Fulbright picking me up and delivering me to a hostel late Monday. I am also communicating with several Ecuadorian friends in Quito regarding the atmosphere there. One of them works for an airline and lives relatively close to where the violence occurred yesterday. She assured me on Friday morning that things are calm again. It's not over, because the President and Police haven't reached any agreements. But again, it's normal.

Surely the physical assault of a constitutionally-elected President in a country with a historically tenuous hold on democracy... is disconcerting. However, I accepted my grant with full knowledge that Ecuador is often rocked by political unrest (8 Presidents in 13 years!), and the day-to-day functioning of state institutions is likely to be interrupted by protests. But. Events like this do not look the same to Ecuadorians as they seem on American news channels. I have always prioritized my personal safety while abroad. I am competent enough to navigate my way through sticky situations, on the tiny chance they should occur. And I will thrive in my non-politically volatile job and my non-political behavior in Ecuador. I'm super excited.

Blog Mission, Ethics

(This entry comes from two ongoing lines of reflection: 1. Self-reflection regarding my roles in Ecuador. How do I negotiate being a sister, daughter, friend, white-woman-in-ecuador, anthropologist, student, teacher, and blogger all at once? and; 2. Reflection regarding the positive/negative effects of social media and individual blogs for relationships and social movements-- see provocative articles here and here).

I started this blog in 2008 as a way to transmit information to friends and loved ones while studying in Ecuador. Trajectories became a space for schizophrenically tracing my final year of college, and for making my family laugh.  For the next 10 months, I am excited to write from Ecuador again.

This is a personal blog. Although characters pass in and out, it is about me and my initial perceptions of the world. It exists to tell you stories, and, of course, broadcast my snarky inner narrator to a larger populous. It is, however, a one-way forum. I hope you will still call, e-mail and send me long letters, since I wish to know your stories as well!

I am a student of sociocultural anthropology. I work with real-life-people, many of whom occupy far more vulnerable social positions than me (probably you too) and yet choose to make themselves constantly vulnerable by engaging with me as an anthropologist. While I will be conducting ethnographic research in Ecuador, this blog is not it. These are not my field notes, much less well-informed arguments about people, cultures or organizations (Case and point: I'm linking you to wikipedia pages). Still, the very nature of ethnographic inquiry means my private relationships and experiences (ie this blog) are completely entangled with what I research/write towards academic ends. So I like to be sensitive regarding my words and images online. I change names, I inch around and omit sensitive information, and ultimately do my best to collaborate with and protect the people with whom I work, on their terms. I follow the American Anthropological Association's Code of Ethics in virtual and actual spaces.

The Basics

Now that I've traced the dramatic lead up, I'm sure everyone knows how unbelievably ecstatic I am to finally announce my teaching placement and have plane tickets in my hand (e-mail box)! This is truly truly overdue. 

Where: Ambato, Ecuador. It is starred on the map below. 3-4 hours south of Quito, Ambato is a mid-sized city in the middle of the Ecuadorian highlands, with a population of about 350,000, cool/temperate climate year-round, and high altitude.

When:   October 4 2010- August 4 2011. Yes... I leave in a week.

What: Assisting with English courses at La Universidad Tecnica de Ambato and pursuing ethnographic research on secondary education and the politics of youth/childhood in highland Ecuador. 

How: Well, I'm taking suggestions. The long answer is that I'll go to Quito, attend orientations at the Fulbright Commission and the U.S. Embassy, get a bank account to begin receiving my stipend, go to Ambato, find a place to live (probably alone, in an apartment), try to meet as many people as possible, buy a machete (incredibly useful down there), teach, and take lots of notes. So the short answer is I don't know.

Ambato is Amazing Because: I've never been there, which means there is much to learn. Ambato is also the birthplace of  two of Ecuador's literary greats (Juan Montalvo and Juan Leon Mera), it offers easy access to almost anywhere in Ecuador, and is called la ciudad de frutas y flores --> the city of fruit and flowers, both of which I ordinarily like.

The Lead-Up, or, What You Might Have Missed

For the sake of memory:

I started my Fulbright grant proposal 15 months ago, following a rocky readjustment to the U.S. after my semester abroad in Ecuador (Fall 2008). 13 months ago I was taking a full course-load, running like 237 organizations on campus, expending emotional energy like I was some sort of bottomless well of compassion (turns out I am not), plus working on applications, grad school, and job stuff. 12 months ago I submitted my proposal. Then I began waiting. 8 months ago I got through the first round of Fulbright, felt happy, and then felt grumpy towards the prospect of more waiting. 8-6 months ago I waited. Mix in a potpourri of emotional breakdowns (due to: waiting, 2 undergraduate theses, senior year pressure, perfectionism, and self-insistences that I can do everything), and I became a general grab-bag of crazy. Many good people stepped forward to rescue me, and I began to learn to accept compassion in addition to doling it out.

5 months ago I got the Fulbright! I celebrated! ...For a day... maybe even just a happy hour...then I finished my thesis. I realized that I have power to shape the course of my own life, and had subsequent mini-crises over what this means. In the words of a great 20-something blogger: "It made me feel slightly uncomfortable that I'm the person making all the decisions about my life." 4 months ago I graduated! Sweet sweet release! 4-1 months ago I was waiting, resting, and a taking an intentional life pause. 1 month ago my restfulness ceded to impatience. AND NOW TODAY.

Update Regarding Lack of Updates

I am not in Ecuador. Thus far, predicting when my grant will begin (since this is up to the mysterious people of Ecuador's Fulbright Commission) has yielded results on par with a middle school Ouija board encounter. Mostly what I know is "not yet" and "soon." 

Things I have as of 9/8/2010 at 9:57 PM EST:

<-- A one year cultural exchange visa to go to Ecuador, featuring this less-than-flattering, though officially (awesomely) stamped, photo.

- A desire to leave, ASAP.

- A scheduled in-country orientation for October 7-8, indicating that someone plans to bring me to Ecuador by October 7-8, to do something.

Things I lack:

- A University placement and teaching assignment.

- A location (this encompasses a home city, a place to live in that city, research contacts in that city, and a basic working knowledge of how not to get kidnapped in that city).

- A start date. Also an end date... but let's take this one step at a time.

- Plane tickets. 

- $$ to sustain my life here in the US.

- A desire to be living in the US.