No Quiero Irme

I am currently sitting in the Aeropuerto Internacional de Guayaquil, waiting for my flight. All last week, I thought that by this point, I would be looking forward to seeing all my friends and family.  To be honest, right now, I just don't want to leave. 

In the past three or four months, I have been really happy here.  All of the work I put in during the beginning of this year (to learn Spanish, navigate the city, successfully teach my classes, get to know the culture) has finally started to pay off.  I finished off the school year feeling satisfied with my work.  I can give advice about which fruit ladies at the market have the best produce and which ones are going to over-charge you.  I built relationships with the owners of the tiendas near my house, with the owner of my favorite chocolate shop, with the owner of my favorite yogurt/pan de yucca corner, with guards I pass daily on the street, and with people who take the same bus to work in the morning.

My Spanish is better too. I still make mistakes in almost every sentence, but people understand me. And a lot of the time, I understand them too. I had my first dream in Spanish recently, too. I still confuse when to use the imperfect and the preterit, and how to use the conditional is usually lost on me. But, I can ask for and receive what I want. I can express many of my emotions. When I send notes home to the parents, my co-workers have to change fewer mistakes.

The most important part of all of this though, is the emotional impact this year has had on me.  I am more confident.  I am less afraid of failure.  I am less afraid of a future without a concrete plan.  I am more able to be present to that which is happening around me and in me. I am more willing to "trust the process." I am comfortable with myself in a way I have never been before.

 I am sad to be leaving this place which pushed, pulled, and tested my strength of character so many times.  I am sad to be leaving this place which thrilled me, taught me, fed me, and offered me a countless variety of opportunities.  Mostly I am sad to leave this place in which I became more fully myself.

I am interested to see how everything I have learned this year translates into the life I create for myself again in the U.S. I am scared that some of the values and adaptation skills I have developed will be lost, and most of all that I will forget the Spanish I have worked so hard to learn. I have faith that the ways in which I have developed this year will impact my life next year, and that I will find ways to ensure I don't loose too much Spanish.  And, I know I will be back again, I just don't know when.

Te amo much, Cuenca. Muchismas gracias para todos.

Mish Mash

Here are all the things that have happened recently that haven't made it into a blog post yet:

Quinceañera

The oldest daughter in the family for which I tutor just turned 15, and that meant a fiesta de quinceañera. For those of you who don't know, a quinceañera is a traditional party, similar to a quintillion, in which the father of a 15 year old presents his daughter as an adult in society. Due to this family's generosity, I was invited (and told to invite as many friends as I wanted) to the Quinceañera. This family is all about ensuring that I have as many cultural experiences as possible here. My friend and co-worker Nikki and I went, and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.  When asking around about dress code and etiquette for the party, we were advised to be sexy. It is still hard for me to think about being sexy around students, but Nikki and I decided to go with it. We were also served a lot of whisky, and again, it is hard for me to think about drinking around students. But it is also very rude here to turn down what is offered to you. So I wore a bright red, very tight dress and drank whiskey (responsibly of course). When in Ecuador..right? We danced the night away with the birthday girl's 40 year old uncles, and later with a group of 15 year olds. When one of them hit on Nikki, we returned to the 40 year olds. At one point in the night, my 8 year old student advised me that I needed to shake my butt more, and reminded me that "we're not at school Tia Becca, it's ok." I may need more time here to fully let go of my American cultural norms. 

Corpus Cristi

Cuenca celebrated Corpus Cristi, a holiday which celebrates the body of Christ and the Eucharist. In Cuenca, this celebration includes an increase in the number of masses offered, and a week of streets lined with candy vendors.  At night, there is a variety of street food, and wooden castillos pirotécnicos, or castles which shoot fireworks into the crowd.  Bomberos (firefighters) line the streets ready to assist any of the unfortunate by-standers hit by firework sparks, and to put out any potential fires. What candy, street meat, and firework-shooting-castles have to do with the body of Christ is lost on me (and apparently to the internet as well, as my search yielded nothing). But, the celebration was fun anyway.

Castillos Pirotécnicos del Corpus Cristi

Sweet-lined Streets for Corpus Cristi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fiesta de la Musica

Last weekend was Cuenca's annual Fiesta de la Musica. Bands from all over the world came to play, and my friends and I listened to lots and lots of reggae, rap, ska, and jazz in various venues all over the city. Mostly, it was another excuse to party, but some of the bands were really good.

Cuy

Cookin' Cuy

Cuy is the Spanish word for guinea pig. Which, is not a pet here, but rather a typical Ecuadorian dish. Again, the family for which I tutor extended their generosity to me and took me out for a traditional cuy dinner.  They knew I would squirm through the whole thing, but they also reminded me that I am brave, and that it tastes like pork. It actually wasn't bad, though I will probably never eat it again.  The meat was really tender.  The hard part about eating cuy is the presentation. They literally serve the whole guinea pig, claws, teeth, skin, and all. The skin is rather crunchy, and I did not enjoy it. But I was a good sport and ate all the meat. The girls I tutor ate the feet, tongue, and even the brain meat. They do not waste in this country.


Almost clean plate club?

Parent Visit

My wonderful parents came to visit two weeks ago.  I knew I would enjoy their company and the opportunity to show them my life here. Surprisingly, we didn't kill each other. Go us. My parents are fairly adventurous, and in many ways are not afraid to make mistakes, which makes them relatively easy to travel with in a foreign country.

Their trip started off with a bang when the family I tutor for (unbeknownst to me) surprised us all and picked my parents up from the airport. We had discussed the possibility of this the previous day, but (due to my bad Spanish) I didn't think we had made firm plans. They did.  I had to work that day, but had planned to surprise my parents by meeting them at the airport as well.  Due to a little scheduling drama at work I was going to be too late to meet them at the airport, so instead went to their hostel to wait for them. Meanwhile, Juan Carlos, the father of the girls I tutor for, had taken them to his hostel where he served them breakfast.  A few phone calls and a taxi ride later, we were all reunited at Juan Carlos's hostel.

In Vilcabamba

Due to my students being in final exams, I had less work than normal, and was able to miss many afternoons and one full day while my parents were here.  Unfortunately, I got really sick (story of my life here), and had way less energy than usual.  This actually worked out fairly well though, because I have a much more youthful mental image of my parents, but these days, they were fairly worn out by 7:30 every night. My parents enjoyed the local cuisine, visited Turi, a neighborhood which over looks the whole city of Cuenca, went to the Modern Art Museum, took a double-decker tour bus throughout the city, enjoyed the many parks of Cuenca, and shopped. We also visited Vilcabamba, a mountain city that is further south than Cuenca, and is more populated by gringos. I had little energy at this point, so my dad did a solo hike through the mountains. The climate is warmer there. Personally, it was nice to return one more time to the lush vegetation which grows in the more humid, lower mountain regions.  I was surprised and unsettled by how much English was present in the city. Almost nobody spoke Spanish to me, or was  even speaking Spanish around me.While the gringo population participates in self-isolation in Cuenca, it was evident that the Gringo and Ecuadorian populations are even more segregated in Vilcabamba. 






Vilcabamba

My parents and I also took a trip to Ingapirca, the largest Incan ruin site in Ecuador.  Ingapirca is a Quichua word which means "Incan Wall." It is a site which originally belonged to the Cañari people, but when the Incan's made their way up through the Andes' Mountains, the site was overtaken. The site is small, but located on the top of a mountain and is therefore very scenically located.

Ingapirca

Sun Temple at Ingapirca

We finished our trip by having almuerzo (lunch) at the house of the family for which I tutor. After lunch, they took us to The Panama Hat Museum, known as the Museo de Sombreros de Paja Toquilla.  After touring the museum and witnessing the assembly process, my parents were each given authentic paja toquilla hats.  We were all overwhelmed by the generosity of this family.  I have been very appreciative of their kindness during our short relationship, but in this instance I was grateful for their desire to give so much to me.