OKAY. I'm walking down the street today, on my way to the fundacion, when this guy stops me in the street. He knows me; I don't remember him. This happens often, mainly because I work in a bunch of different communities and while I stick out here, they don't. He's got to be in his mid-40s. And the exchange goes something like this.
Wait, I can't even transcribe it. It's too weird and filled with me just going "...." or "uh...gracias?" or laughing nervously. But, in a nutshell, he monologued:
"I haven't seen you in so long! Where have you been? You're just enchanting, so beautiful." (He touches my hair in a too-familiar way). "Oh, that blonde hair, blue eyes." (My eyes are green, so...?) "You know, you should stay in Ecuador forever. You've just enchanted me. I have a hacienda (big house with land), and you could come live there are be treated like a lady and never have to leave Ecuador."
This went on for a while, but that was the gist. Plus, I was wearing a black sweater that I had shed on a bit, so at one point he started PICKING THE HAIRS OFF OF MY SWEATER LIKE HE WAS GOING TO KEEP THEM WTF.
Seriously. Ecuador. I'm know I'm gringa. I'm super gringa. I'm like the gringiest gringa who ever gringa-d. But really. YOU CAN'T JUST WALK UP TO PEOPLE ON THE STREET AND DO THESE THINGS. It's creepy. And no, I'm not going to move to your hacienda and be your wife/mistress. Really, I'm not.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Acts of kindness; or, I hope I didn't get fleas
(x-posted at my livejournal, which from now on everything will be, due to the fact that I've rediscovered how awesome livejournal is.)
Yesterday was the first full, exhausting, useful, fulfilling day I've had in a long, long time. It's a good feeling, this particular type of exhaustion. I had almost forgotten what it felt like (and I'm so tired today that it amazes me to think I used to have school full time + 20 hour internship a week + homework + a strong network of friends and a great roommate to hang out with. I don't know how I managed it. It was the best year of my life, so far.)
I volunteered with a medical brigade that was doing free health checkups and doctor's visits in the indigenous town of Salasaca. They were a group of young doctors and docs-in-training from the States, and most didn't speak Spanish, so I was there with a few other Peace Corps people to work as translators. The turnout was huge-- we were working ALL DAY.
It was awesome! I've found that I love translating. It makes me feel so gosh-darn smart. I played soccer in the morning with the group before the clinic (aka local two-room elementary school) doors opened, and most of the rest of the day was spent with the physical therapists, translating their every question and instruction to the patients.
It was tough, though, because Salasaca is a super-duper indigenous community, meaning...many of them DON'T SPEAK SPANISH. They speak Quichua, a strange, mumbly language that has no connection whatsoever to Spanish. And I don't speak a word of it. (Well, technically I can say brother, sister, child, it's cold, it's hot, and hungover.) Plus, most of the physical therapy people were ancient (I'm talking 80-90 years old), without shoes or teeth, or hearing, or eyesight. AND they were so old/confused/not speaking the language that they would nod and say Si Si to whatever I said, but didn't actually get a word of it.
So most of the day there was a line of translation: the doctor would speak English, I would repeat in Spanish, and some helpful villager would speak Quicha to the patient. But even then, they just wouldn't understand how to do the simplest of things, like sitting up straight or lifting their arms above their head. It would go like this:
"Lift your arms above your head, like this." *Doc and I lift our arms*
*patient lifts them to the side*
"No, up, up, like this." *lifts them up*
*patients holds them out*
"NO, UP, DO EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE DOING."
*patient lifts one arm*
"Okay, but both arms. Look at us!" *waves arms in the air*
*patient holds them out to sides again*
It was like that ALL DAY.
It was also heartbreaking at times, because we didn't have the tools or equipment to really help people who needed help. One man had torn a hugely important tendon in his knee, and couldn't walk, but we didn't have a knee brace, or shoes that fit him, so all we could do was give him some exercises to strengthen the other muscles and send him on his way. One young woman had adolescent arthritis, making her hands curl up like claws, and her feet were severely deformed, making it difficult for her to walk. She needed special shoes and braces for her hands to stop the progression of the deformity, but we didn't have them. The worst thing is, if these people are in pain they can't work, can't feed their families. And the ones we could help, who only needed some physical therapy and to do simple stretches and movements in their home, probably didn't quite understand what to do or will just forget and won't do them in their houses. The people here are notoriously...forgetful, resistant to change.
Salasacaneos (is that how you spell it), are a really cool people, though. They are originally from Bolivia and always wear the traditional outfits: black skirts, white flowy shirts and brightly-colored ponchos for the women, black pants and black ponchos for the men. They are also cleaner than most indigenous communities, which I guess isn't saying a lot, because they are still pretty...well, let's just say that I really, really hope that I didn't get fleas. And one doctor hugged this adorable crying old woman, which was a really sweet gesture, but probably not the smartest idea in the world.
Here, have some google images, because I forgot to bring my camera yesterday:
It was long day of hard work, in which I got to feel super smart with my awesome Spanish, hang out with some really cool people, and help those that really needed/appreciated our help. In short, it was exactly what Peace Corps should be like all the time. I guess that for some lucky people, it is. I'm just glad to have one good day every once in a while, to keep me sane.
Yesterday was the first full, exhausting, useful, fulfilling day I've had in a long, long time. It's a good feeling, this particular type of exhaustion. I had almost forgotten what it felt like (and I'm so tired today that it amazes me to think I used to have school full time + 20 hour internship a week + homework + a strong network of friends and a great roommate to hang out with. I don't know how I managed it. It was the best year of my life, so far.)
I volunteered with a medical brigade that was doing free health checkups and doctor's visits in the indigenous town of Salasaca. They were a group of young doctors and docs-in-training from the States, and most didn't speak Spanish, so I was there with a few other Peace Corps people to work as translators. The turnout was huge-- we were working ALL DAY.
It was awesome! I've found that I love translating. It makes me feel so gosh-darn smart. I played soccer in the morning with the group before the clinic (aka local two-room elementary school) doors opened, and most of the rest of the day was spent with the physical therapists, translating their every question and instruction to the patients.
It was tough, though, because Salasaca is a super-duper indigenous community, meaning...many of them DON'T SPEAK SPANISH. They speak Quichua, a strange, mumbly language that has no connection whatsoever to Spanish. And I don't speak a word of it. (Well, technically I can say brother, sister, child, it's cold, it's hot, and hungover.) Plus, most of the physical therapy people were ancient (I'm talking 80-90 years old), without shoes or teeth, or hearing, or eyesight. AND they were so old/confused/not speaking the language that they would nod and say Si Si to whatever I said, but didn't actually get a word of it.
So most of the day there was a line of translation: the doctor would speak English, I would repeat in Spanish, and some helpful villager would speak Quicha to the patient. But even then, they just wouldn't understand how to do the simplest of things, like sitting up straight or lifting their arms above their head. It would go like this:
"Lift your arms above your head, like this." *Doc and I lift our arms*
*patient lifts them to the side*
"No, up, up, like this." *lifts them up*
*patients holds them out*
"NO, UP, DO EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE DOING."
*patient lifts one arm*
"Okay, but both arms. Look at us!" *waves arms in the air*
*patient holds them out to sides again*
It was like that ALL DAY.
It was also heartbreaking at times, because we didn't have the tools or equipment to really help people who needed help. One man had torn a hugely important tendon in his knee, and couldn't walk, but we didn't have a knee brace, or shoes that fit him, so all we could do was give him some exercises to strengthen the other muscles and send him on his way. One young woman had adolescent arthritis, making her hands curl up like claws, and her feet were severely deformed, making it difficult for her to walk. She needed special shoes and braces for her hands to stop the progression of the deformity, but we didn't have them. The worst thing is, if these people are in pain they can't work, can't feed their families. And the ones we could help, who only needed some physical therapy and to do simple stretches and movements in their home, probably didn't quite understand what to do or will just forget and won't do them in their houses. The people here are notoriously...forgetful, resistant to change.
Salasacaneos (is that how you spell it), are a really cool people, though. They are originally from Bolivia and always wear the traditional outfits: black skirts, white flowy shirts and brightly-colored ponchos for the women, black pants and black ponchos for the men. They are also cleaner than most indigenous communities, which I guess isn't saying a lot, because they are still pretty...well, let's just say that I really, really hope that I didn't get fleas. And one doctor hugged this adorable crying old woman, which was a really sweet gesture, but probably not the smartest idea in the world.
Here, have some google images, because I forgot to bring my camera yesterday:It was long day of hard work, in which I got to feel super smart with my awesome Spanish, hang out with some really cool people, and help those that really needed/appreciated our help. In short, it was exactly what Peace Corps should be like all the time. I guess that for some lucky people, it is. I'm just glad to have one good day every once in a while, to keep me sane.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Culture Clash: What does weight mean?
x-posted at my livejournal:
I just HAD to record this conversation (and remember this is all taking place in Spanish):
Today I was sitting on a very, very tiny child's chair today at the day-care for mentally disabled children and one of the employees looked at me and said, out of the blue: "Sarita, I like your thighs."
There was a long, long pause, as I tried to sort out what I had just heard. "What?"
"Your thighs."
Awkward smile. "I don't understand. My thighs?"
"Yes!"
I looked down at my jeans. My legs looked like...legs. Normal. "...what about them?"
"I like them."
"You like my thighs. Um. Why?"
She beamed at me. "Because they are so big and round! My thighs are so skinny, it's terrible. I wish I had thighs like yours."
"Uh, thank you? You know, in my country, it's much better to have thighs like yours. Only skinny is pretty."
"Fat isn't pretty??????"
They were truly surprised. Now granted, being huge isn't attractive here, but there is definitely the mindset that a little meat on your bones is a good thing. This is why, when I first arrived in Ecuador, my host family used to exclaim: "Eat more! You're too thin, you look sick!" and months later, when they saw me again and I had gained at least 10 pounds, everyone had to say: "You gained weight! You're mas gordita! How wonderful!" and pinch my stomach.
(And here I'm inserting the obligatory clarification: I am not fat, or overweight. I am a nice, normal size, which in America means I could stand to lose 10 pounds, but in Ecuador means I'm skinny as hell. Except, I guess, for my thighs.)
I just HAD to record this conversation (and remember this is all taking place in Spanish):
Today I was sitting on a very, very tiny child's chair today at the day-care for mentally disabled children and one of the employees looked at me and said, out of the blue: "Sarita, I like your thighs."
There was a long, long pause, as I tried to sort out what I had just heard. "What?"
"Your thighs."
Awkward smile. "I don't understand. My thighs?"
"Yes!"
I looked down at my jeans. My legs looked like...legs. Normal. "...what about them?"
"I like them."
"You like my thighs. Um. Why?"
She beamed at me. "Because they are so big and round! My thighs are so skinny, it's terrible. I wish I had thighs like yours."
"Uh, thank you? You know, in my country, it's much better to have thighs like yours. Only skinny is pretty."
"Fat isn't pretty??????"
They were truly surprised. Now granted, being huge isn't attractive here, but there is definitely the mindset that a little meat on your bones is a good thing. This is why, when I first arrived in Ecuador, my host family used to exclaim: "Eat more! You're too thin, you look sick!" and months later, when they saw me again and I had gained at least 10 pounds, everyone had to say: "You gained weight! You're mas gordita! How wonderful!" and pinch my stomach.
(And here I'm inserting the obligatory clarification: I am not fat, or overweight. I am a nice, normal size, which in America means I could stand to lose 10 pounds, but in Ecuador means I'm skinny as hell. Except, I guess, for my thighs.)
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sooooo.... guess it's time I update, eh?
It's been almost four months since my last update, so thank Gill for bringing that to my attention. Truth is, I don't really know what to post anymore. Things are kind of blurry for me right now, like life is sliding by and I'm finding it surprisingly difficult to grasp moments and memories.
I went to Cuenca in May, for "resiliency training", aka, "how not to ET training." It was (surprise surprise!) boring as hell, but while in Cuenca I got to hang out with some amazing people and see what is truly the most beautiful city in Ecuador.
My birthday was in June, during mid-service (boring, but mercifully short), and some people from my Omnibus surprised me with a chocolate-covered apple, a mini bottle of wine, and a big bottle of vodka, which we all shared. I am in awe of the people in Peace Corps-- I swear it draws the best of the USA.
Big bro came to visit for the whole month of June, but besides saying we went to the beach and attempted to surf (I actually managed to stand up a few times!), I can't get into details here. Maybe next year... but let's just say it was awesome.
I've been writing A LOT. Nothing exciting (fanfiction, doncha know, aka I've developed an obsessive love of Supernatural), but I've realized that writing fun stories is so, so good for me. Not only does it allow me to have fun on otherwise boring days and get some positive feedback online, but it also allows me to percolate on original ideas that are lingering in the back of my mind. My brother actually inspired me during his visit, and now I have the plot for a possible book that is quietly putting itself into place while I write other stories. I'm super-excited about this -- Dangerous People was my one good idea, and now that I've written it I was afraid inspiration wouldn't strike again.
I just got ordained online (apparently I can absolve your sins now), so I can officiate my sister's wedding in a few months. I'm also looking up plane fares online, and will be home for a week at the end of September/beginning of October. Plus, only nine months left of Peace Corps!
As for daily living... things have slowed down... a lot. The volcano erupted, which is kind of cool, but mostly irritating. About 50% of my work was in a town called El Triunfo, and I can no longer go there because I have to go through Banos, and that's off-limits because of the volcano. Also, school is out for the summer, so there goes another 25% of my work. Plus, my community contacts aren't getting back to me, so...you get the idea. I'm trying to plan new things, get involved with new projects, because damnit, I only have nine months left and I want to be able to say that I accomplished SOMETHING in the Peace Corps.
Oh, and I joined the newly-restarted newspaper, El Clima, though exactly what I'm supposed to be doing on it I'm still a little unclear. Hmmm....
What else is new? Spent the forth of July in my apartment, feeling sick, but on the 10th there is a gringo get-together in Rio Bamba complete with picnic food and fireworks that I hope to go to. If that falls through I'll go to a picnic in Cayambe on the ninth. I've (finally) started exercising again. I found sour cream for the first time in 16 months (Wooo!). I'm signing up for the GRE's as soon as they open for registration. I'm getting by. And...that's life in Ecuador.
I went to Cuenca in May, for "resiliency training", aka, "how not to ET training." It was (surprise surprise!) boring as hell, but while in Cuenca I got to hang out with some amazing people and see what is truly the most beautiful city in Ecuador.
My birthday was in June, during mid-service (boring, but mercifully short), and some people from my Omnibus surprised me with a chocolate-covered apple, a mini bottle of wine, and a big bottle of vodka, which we all shared. I am in awe of the people in Peace Corps-- I swear it draws the best of the USA.
Big bro came to visit for the whole month of June, but besides saying we went to the beach and attempted to surf (I actually managed to stand up a few times!), I can't get into details here. Maybe next year... but let's just say it was awesome.
I've been writing A LOT. Nothing exciting (fanfiction, doncha know, aka I've developed an obsessive love of Supernatural), but I've realized that writing fun stories is so, so good for me. Not only does it allow me to have fun on otherwise boring days and get some positive feedback online, but it also allows me to percolate on original ideas that are lingering in the back of my mind. My brother actually inspired me during his visit, and now I have the plot for a possible book that is quietly putting itself into place while I write other stories. I'm super-excited about this -- Dangerous People was my one good idea, and now that I've written it I was afraid inspiration wouldn't strike again.
I just got ordained online (apparently I can absolve your sins now), so I can officiate my sister's wedding in a few months. I'm also looking up plane fares online, and will be home for a week at the end of September/beginning of October. Plus, only nine months left of Peace Corps!
As for daily living... things have slowed down... a lot. The volcano erupted, which is kind of cool, but mostly irritating. About 50% of my work was in a town called El Triunfo, and I can no longer go there because I have to go through Banos, and that's off-limits because of the volcano. Also, school is out for the summer, so there goes another 25% of my work. Plus, my community contacts aren't getting back to me, so...you get the idea. I'm trying to plan new things, get involved with new projects, because damnit, I only have nine months left and I want to be able to say that I accomplished SOMETHING in the Peace Corps.
Oh, and I joined the newly-restarted newspaper, El Clima, though exactly what I'm supposed to be doing on it I'm still a little unclear. Hmmm....
What else is new? Spent the forth of July in my apartment, feeling sick, but on the 10th there is a gringo get-together in Rio Bamba complete with picnic food and fireworks that I hope to go to. If that falls through I'll go to a picnic in Cayambe on the ninth. I've (finally) started exercising again. I found sour cream for the first time in 16 months (Wooo!). I'm signing up for the GRE's as soon as they open for registration. I'm getting by. And...that's life in Ecuador.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Insert Title Here
Went to Mindo the other weekend with some PC people, and had one of those crazy, soul-sustaining times that keep me sane in Ecuador. It's a sleepy little cloud-forest town, where we went zip-lining (one of which was a slightly terrifying bungee-jump-cum-zip-lining mash up) and jumped off of a high (12 meters) rock into water (I hit the bottom) and swam in a river with waterfalls. At night we ate delicious over-priced food and swapped stories and were generally silly. There are good people in PC Ecuador, that's all I have to say.
And now for something completely different...
I'm in a pretty good mood tonight. I finally realized today that if I want a change in my life, I have to make it, and that even something small can make a difference. So I looked up some info/videos online and started teaching myself Parkour/freerunning at a local children's park.
It's perfect for me: the park is ten minute walk from my house, and isolated enough that are no people staring at me as I run (and Patate is perfectly safe, as well, unlike other Ecuadorian cities...please don't let THAT statement come back and bite me in the...)
The park is filled with benches, jungle gyms, swings, tables, tires, slides, everything a beginner runner could want. Parkour, or freerunning (though they are a little different, but at this basic level I think I can use them relatively interchangeably) is essentially running from point A to point B no matter what is in front of you. So you vault off tables and swing over bars. It gets crazy (aka the guy in the opening sequence of "Casino Royale" was a freerunner), but I'm just trying to learn how to roll without hurting myself and vaulting over benches. It is brutal work, and makes my whole body feel like jelly. I feel great.
Work is also improving, and while it is still slow slow slow I am at least getting something accomplished, and that's a relief. A school garden actually succeeded (gasp!), a farmer sought me out to ask my advice, a school I work with made their own Biol, and I'll be teaching honest-to-goodness classes in a few weeks. And as always, the people that I work with are so friendly, I literally don't know what I would do without them.
My biggest thing now is looking to the future: My brother's visit in June (+birthday and midservice), going home for my sister's wedding, Me + Mom = Galapagos, but most especially ending my service in just over a year and going to graduate school. I've been doing my research and have my schools narrowed down (just two now, but they are both awesome), and will be retaking the GRE's/ applying this fall. I am so, so looking forward to that life. I miss school, I do. I miss learning, I miss sitting in classrooms, I miss writing papers in coffee shops on my laptop, I miss living in an American city with American people.
Now that the craziness of February is over and I have some work to do, I am content here. A volunteer who is just about to COS (leave country) told me that the goal of the second year is just to make it to the end, but it goes fast and despite this, is the best year of all. So I'm looking to the future, as always, but content. Maybe I will even miss it when it's over.
And now for something completely different...
I'm in a pretty good mood tonight. I finally realized today that if I want a change in my life, I have to make it, and that even something small can make a difference. So I looked up some info/videos online and started teaching myself Parkour/freerunning at a local children's park.
It's perfect for me: the park is ten minute walk from my house, and isolated enough that are no people staring at me as I run (and Patate is perfectly safe, as well, unlike other Ecuadorian cities...please don't let THAT statement come back and bite me in the...)
The park is filled with benches, jungle gyms, swings, tables, tires, slides, everything a beginner runner could want. Parkour, or freerunning (though they are a little different, but at this basic level I think I can use them relatively interchangeably) is essentially running from point A to point B no matter what is in front of you. So you vault off tables and swing over bars. It gets crazy (aka the guy in the opening sequence of "Casino Royale" was a freerunner), but I'm just trying to learn how to roll without hurting myself and vaulting over benches. It is brutal work, and makes my whole body feel like jelly. I feel great.
Work is also improving, and while it is still slow slow slow I am at least getting something accomplished, and that's a relief. A school garden actually succeeded (gasp!), a farmer sought me out to ask my advice, a school I work with made their own Biol, and I'll be teaching honest-to-goodness classes in a few weeks. And as always, the people that I work with are so friendly, I literally don't know what I would do without them.
My biggest thing now is looking to the future: My brother's visit in June (+birthday and midservice), going home for my sister's wedding, Me + Mom = Galapagos, but most especially ending my service in just over a year and going to graduate school. I've been doing my research and have my schools narrowed down (just two now, but they are both awesome), and will be retaking the GRE's/ applying this fall. I am so, so looking forward to that life. I miss school, I do. I miss learning, I miss sitting in classrooms, I miss writing papers in coffee shops on my laptop, I miss living in an American city with American people.
Now that the craziness of February is over and I have some work to do, I am content here. A volunteer who is just about to COS (leave country) told me that the goal of the second year is just to make it to the end, but it goes fast and despite this, is the best year of all. So I'm looking to the future, as always, but content. Maybe I will even miss it when it's over.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
So...
This isn't going to be a long entry, as it is still rather difficult to type now, but I figured that I should update after what happened.
A little over a week ago, a friend and I were attacked in a park in Ambato.
This isn't one of those "girl was walking through a deserted street at 3 am drunk and got assaulted" deals. We did nothing wrong. It was the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day, in a park filled with soccer players, families, and laughing children. My friend Julie (another PC volunteer) and I were walking back to her house on an "ecological trail" that follows the river. A young family, with a well-dressed dad, mom, and infant, had passed us several times that day, but we thought that they were just strolling aimlessly like we were. The moment we began to think it was strange and no one else was around, he whipped a knife out.
He grabbed Julie's arm. She screamed and dropped into a crouch because she was afraid that he was aiming his knife at her neck. I lunged at him and he turned on me; when I tried to knock the knife out of his hand he swiped at me and cut my thumb and index finger, then cut the strap of Julie's bag and ran with it.
Luckily, there was nothing of value in the bag except her house keys (she promptly changed the locks), and it gives me a grim satisfaction to know that he went through all of that for a broken bag, lipstick, unusable keys, and hand sanitizer.
I was bleeding to a degree that was frightening. I've never in my life seen so much blood. It pooled in my cupped hands and ended up on my face, all down my pants, and saturated my sneakers to a degree that even my socks were bloody. Some kind hearted lady helped us get to the hospital and gave me an old shirt to staunch the bleeding; it became soaked through with blood. I also bled all over the emergency room floor. I can't imagine the amount you must pour out if you get stabbed someplace serious.
The cut on my thumb is the worst, a deep diagonal gash that took eight stitched to close. The other isn't as bad, only four stitches and it barely hurt at all. The doctor claimed there was no nerve damage, but I still can't feel the tip of my thumb, so....
I go back to Quito tomorrow to get my stitches removed, and I also get to go the following week to talk to the new group of trainees. Poor Julie is jumping at her own shadow and hates the sight of families with children. I'm mainly pissed that I didn't think clearly while fighting (punching instead of kicking, so stupid of me!)
I've already written more than I thought I would, and it sucks to type without a thumb. It just sucks in general. Everything about this month so far, with its drama and huge annoying festivals and lack of work and water balloons (Carnaval) and drunks and too many parades and irritating bottle rocket/fireworks just sucks.
I can't wait for March.
A little over a week ago, a friend and I were attacked in a park in Ambato.
This isn't one of those "girl was walking through a deserted street at 3 am drunk and got assaulted" deals. We did nothing wrong. It was the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day, in a park filled with soccer players, families, and laughing children. My friend Julie (another PC volunteer) and I were walking back to her house on an "ecological trail" that follows the river. A young family, with a well-dressed dad, mom, and infant, had passed us several times that day, but we thought that they were just strolling aimlessly like we were. The moment we began to think it was strange and no one else was around, he whipped a knife out.
He grabbed Julie's arm. She screamed and dropped into a crouch because she was afraid that he was aiming his knife at her neck. I lunged at him and he turned on me; when I tried to knock the knife out of his hand he swiped at me and cut my thumb and index finger, then cut the strap of Julie's bag and ran with it.
Luckily, there was nothing of value in the bag except her house keys (she promptly changed the locks), and it gives me a grim satisfaction to know that he went through all of that for a broken bag, lipstick, unusable keys, and hand sanitizer.
I was bleeding to a degree that was frightening. I've never in my life seen so much blood. It pooled in my cupped hands and ended up on my face, all down my pants, and saturated my sneakers to a degree that even my socks were bloody. Some kind hearted lady helped us get to the hospital and gave me an old shirt to staunch the bleeding; it became soaked through with blood. I also bled all over the emergency room floor. I can't imagine the amount you must pour out if you get stabbed someplace serious.
The cut on my thumb is the worst, a deep diagonal gash that took eight stitched to close. The other isn't as bad, only four stitches and it barely hurt at all. The doctor claimed there was no nerve damage, but I still can't feel the tip of my thumb, so....
I go back to Quito tomorrow to get my stitches removed, and I also get to go the following week to talk to the new group of trainees. Poor Julie is jumping at her own shadow and hates the sight of families with children. I'm mainly pissed that I didn't think clearly while fighting (punching instead of kicking, so stupid of me!)
I've already written more than I thought I would, and it sucks to type without a thumb. It just sucks in general. Everything about this month so far, with its drama and huge annoying festivals and lack of work and water balloons (Carnaval) and drunks and too many parades and irritating bottle rocket/fireworks just sucks.
I can't wait for March.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
A Year in the House of Sarah
A little late, but here it is:
2009: A Year in Review
January:
-Started the year in Baltimore, watching the fireworks with Gill and her (then-boyfriend, now husband) Ken, freezing our butts off, praying for good things.
-The inauguration of President Obama.
February:
-Road tripped to Pittsburgh and Penn State, for a final farewell of friends and fun.
-Left for Peace Corps, Ecuador. Arrived in Quito one warm rainy night, then journeyed on to Cayambe to begin training.
-Went to Mitad del Mundo, the center of the earth, and stood with one foot in each hemisphere
March:
-My first stomach flu of Ecuador….the first of many.
- Learned to wash my clothes on a big stone, went to Cotacachi, went on big hikes, saw an indigenous sun celebration and was blessed by a shaman, ate guinea pig for the first time, had long days of classes
- Found out my site placement was La Victoria, Tungurahua
April:
-Went on my site visit, and came away from it scared and upset and dreading the future.
-Went on the Tech Trip, which included lounging in a pool and playing soccer and doing yoga in the steaming heat of Puerto Quito, and staring at the stars, buying chocolate, and doing karaoke in Salinas de Guaranda. One of the best weeks of my life.
-Finished my classes.
-Swore in in Quito on April 30, and became an official Peace Corps Volunteer.
May:
-Moved to my site, and had to sit on my hands for three weeks because my house in LV was not finished.
-Finally moved into my house in LV.
-Started planning many projects, many of which would never come to fruition. Ah, PC life.
June:
-23rd Birthday in Rio Bamba!
- It rained all month.
-Thus started summer depression.
July:
- Depressed and stuck in LV alone. It continued to rain. Not a great month.
August:
- Pretty depressed and without work and got sick in Tena… until…
- I got permission to move to Patate. I started looking for an apartment and found one that I absolutely love.
September:
- Moved to Patate
- Went to the grad school fair in Quito, which changed what I want to study and direction my life will take, and, completely coincidently, met Adam
-He followed me home and lived with me for the next month
-Began work with my new counterpart group, Aves y Conservacion, first trip to El Triunfo, and the rest is history.
- Reconnect in Rio Bamba
October:
- More work, good times with Adam
-The El Chaco trip, in which I got way too sick and missed whitewater rafting. Yeah, that sucked.
November:
- Thanksgiving at the embassy
December:
- Christmas, went home, and all of the wonderful times that came with it
-My sister got engaged
A few low points, but all in all, a pretty great year. Here’s to 2010: I can’t wait to see what you will bring me.
2009: A Year in Review
January:
-Started the year in Baltimore, watching the fireworks with Gill and her (then-boyfriend, now husband) Ken, freezing our butts off, praying for good things.
-The inauguration of President Obama.
February:
-Road tripped to Pittsburgh and Penn State, for a final farewell of friends and fun.
-Left for Peace Corps, Ecuador. Arrived in Quito one warm rainy night, then journeyed on to Cayambe to begin training.
-Went to Mitad del Mundo, the center of the earth, and stood with one foot in each hemisphere
March:
-My first stomach flu of Ecuador….the first of many.
- Learned to wash my clothes on a big stone, went to Cotacachi, went on big hikes, saw an indigenous sun celebration and was blessed by a shaman, ate guinea pig for the first time, had long days of classes
- Found out my site placement was La Victoria, Tungurahua
April:
-Went on my site visit, and came away from it scared and upset and dreading the future.
-Went on the Tech Trip, which included lounging in a pool and playing soccer and doing yoga in the steaming heat of Puerto Quito, and staring at the stars, buying chocolate, and doing karaoke in Salinas de Guaranda. One of the best weeks of my life.
-Finished my classes.
-Swore in in Quito on April 30, and became an official Peace Corps Volunteer.
May:
-Moved to my site, and had to sit on my hands for three weeks because my house in LV was not finished.
-Finally moved into my house in LV.
-Started planning many projects, many of which would never come to fruition. Ah, PC life.
June:
-23rd Birthday in Rio Bamba!
- It rained all month.
-Thus started summer depression.
July:
- Depressed and stuck in LV alone. It continued to rain. Not a great month.
August:
- Pretty depressed and without work and got sick in Tena… until…
- I got permission to move to Patate. I started looking for an apartment and found one that I absolutely love.
September:
- Moved to Patate
- Went to the grad school fair in Quito, which changed what I want to study and direction my life will take, and, completely coincidently, met Adam
-He followed me home and lived with me for the next month
-Began work with my new counterpart group, Aves y Conservacion, first trip to El Triunfo, and the rest is history.
- Reconnect in Rio Bamba
October:
- More work, good times with Adam
-The El Chaco trip, in which I got way too sick and missed whitewater rafting. Yeah, that sucked.
November:
- Thanksgiving at the embassy
December:
- Christmas, went home, and all of the wonderful times that came with it
-My sister got engaged
A few low points, but all in all, a pretty great year. Here’s to 2010: I can’t wait to see what you will bring me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
