Lies, Censos, and English Lessons

When the MPIE team first arrived to Quito last July on tourist visas, one of our first organizational tasks was aquiring an Ecuadorian Censo, or year long volunteer visa, to make us temporary Ecuadorian citizens. Along with a very official looking stamp in our passports, we were issued ID cards that have proved useful in getting us discounts to national parks and tourist attractions- along with making us feel media-Ecuatoriano. This blog entry is premised by noting that Dunc and I recently lost our beloved Censo ID cards (mine was pick-pocketed with $20 at the Ecuador vs. Argentina World Cup Qualifier game- totally worth it, and Dunc´s was stolen by the Troll that lives in the Manna house). I was unconvinced that spending the time to get a new Censo was a priority, but when Dunc told me he was going into town to get a new card, I made the decision to tag along…

We wake up bright and early and are out the door at 8:15 sharp. First stop of the day is the police station to report our missing Censos. Dunc and I decided earlier to explain the situation as arising from a single incident (aka theft), rather than two separate ones, to simply things in an otherwise very complicated bureaucratic structure. On the way to the police station, the two of us go over the details of our “mugging” so that we would be on the same page when questioned by the police. *Let it be known that while we were indeed fabricating an event, Dunc and Mark have both been mugged on different occasions and I have been pick-pocketed, which seemed to partially validate our actions.* Arriving at the police station, we get the gringo treatment as an officer immediately escorts us through the crowd, past a sketchy looking man- who may or may not have been selling fake passports in front of the police station and all of the officers- in the side door, and up to the office where robberies are reported.

As we go through the details of the incident with the police officer upstairs, she tells us that to request a new Censo we first have to file an official report with the Quito police. No problem. "So when did the incident occur," she asks. "Saturday," Dunc responds, and her face twists a bit. She informs us that they only accept reports that have happened in the past 72 hours. To report a prior incident we have to go to the city police station a few blocks away. When we get there, the scene is straight out of a Hollywood film that takes place in South America. We walk down a grimy smelly cement hallway, past a bench with 3 handcuffed men- one of whom had recently vomited on himself- to a small windowless room leading to a smaller windowless office. The line to enter the office is about 30 people long, and Dunc gives me a look that clearly says “how the hell do we do get ourselves out of here FAST?!”. We timidly ask the policewoman if it would be possible to lie about the (already fake) date on our police report, changing it to something within the required 72 hour period to avoid the smelliness of the current police station and the ridiculous line. We were pleasantly surprised when she agreed at once with a smile, looking just as relieved that we had been the ones to bring it up as we were to get out of there.

The three of us trek back to the first office, and Dunc and I fill out the required paperwork reporting the fake mugging with the doubly fake date. After getting the reports stamped and official looking, we were just getting up to go when the officer asks us a question about English grammar. She then goes on to explain that she is trying to translate the Aerosmith song that has been playing all morning in the background of the office- on repeat- and pulls out a copy of the lyrics from her report folder. Mind you, there is now a line of gringo tourists waiting behind us to file reports with the lone policewoman, but Dunc and I being seasoned English teachers just couldn’t help ourselves. So we dive into long-winded explanations, such as the difference between “awake” and “wake up”, as the officer took notes with a furrowed brow.

Ten minutes later, after wishing our new police friend a good morning, Dunc and I hail a cab to take us to the Immigration office in north Quito, where, supposedly, we will be able to attain new Censos with our fake robbery reports (yay!). Our taxista weaves in and out of the late morning traffic, turning up the radio to an annoyingly catchy reggae-ton song, and the two gringos in the backseat chat about the silliness of our encounter at the police station. We recap, finally getting to the point in the story where we filled out the date and time of the report... all of a sudden, as if a light bulb turns on above each of our heads at the same time, we realize that the incident we reported had, in fact, not occurred yet, but was scheduled to take place in about 7 hours, at 5pm that same day. Oops!

Knowing that the people at the Censo office probably wouldn’t notice this minor detail, and even if they did, would look the other way, we continue on to the office bright eyed and optimistic. However, upon reaching the Censo office, we are informed by the grumpy police officer at the counter that the Censo office doesn’t open until the afternoon. “Come back at 1:30 to get in line for when the doors open at 2:30 and they’ll start helping people at 3” he tells us. Unfortunately we don’t have time to stick around because of afternoon programs, so we head over to Sanduches del Rey for an early lunch before making the trek back out to the valley empty-handed. All in all a pretty typical morning in dealing with Ecuadorian government/bureaucracy!

Los Muchachos Dulces!

I realize I haven´t updated Quitopia in quite a while despite the fact that there is so much to report! Here is an entry I wrote for MPIE´s Open Hands and Dirty Feet blog a few weeks ago during our first summer volunteer session (apologies for  recycling again!)

After hosting such amazing volunteer groups during spring break season, all of us here at MPIE have been eagerly awaiting our newest arrivals- volunteers from all across the U.S. (and one from Canada!) who will participate in a variety of programs and projects over the course of a month this summer. It is without hesitation that I inform our readers of the fact that we have a pretty sweet group of volunteers here right now, and so far they have done a fantastic job with the tasks they’ve been handed. One of the summer volunteer projects is the planning and teaching of a 3-week intensive English language class for middle-school aged kids in a barrio close to our house. The group in charge of this project have aptly, and enthusiastically, named themselves “Los Muchachos Dulces” (The Sweet Kids), and consequently named me, their fearless leader, “Capitan Dulce”, a title I hold with pride. 

We are only 4 days into the program, and “Los Muchachos” are already rocking each class like seasoned professionals. For Rebekah, Priya, Patrick, Maria, and Jeremy, their days look a little something like this: 

8am- breakfast (hovering over the flapjack-flipping PD for a second helping or trying to get Perry to poach another egg)

8:30- 11:30am- Spanish class with professors from Quito

11:30- 1:45- lunch, go into town, print worksheets and make copies

1:45pm- toss around the pigskin, head to the bus

2:30-5:30pm- teach English class

6pm- go for a jog as the sun sets (they are hard core)

7:30pm- family style dinner with all the volunteers and PD’s

8:30- 10pm- lesson plan

10pm- read/hang out by the fire on the roof/climb over to the apartment

As you can see, they’ve got a lot on their plate and are handling it beautifully. The first day of class, “Los Muchachos” got their feet wet when 14 kids from the barrio registered in the class, but it was on day two, as 30 children showed up with their notebooks, grinning and ready for 3 hours of English instruction, that they really realized what they had gotten themselves into. 

Today’s lesson was one of adjective vocabulary, and since Los Muchachos Dulces had everything completely under control, I sat back and watched as 30 Ecuadorian children in small groups fervently hung onto every word that came out of their Profe’s mouths. The individual teaching styles range from Rebekah acting out adjectives like “tall”, “short”, “fat”, and “skinny” in exaggerated motions, to Patrick rewarding his students with exploding handshakes every time they got a word right. With so many students, the ability levels span a wide spectrum; so personal attention and games are key to keeping each child interested in the daily lesson. Then there are the students who can’t help but stand out among the crowd. For example, my favorite kid, Erick, is a cheeky smart-alec who bugs me constantly for new English vocabulary that he uses to show off for the girls in his group (demonstrating his all encompassing foreign language knowledge).

With two weeks left of the San Juan English class, I can’t wait to see what fun and creative activities Los Muchachos Dulces will think of next. Whatever they are, I know the students will love them, and cherish the time spent with the volunteers to whom they already look up as role models and new friends. It will be a sad day for teachers and students alike when summer ends and we all part ways, but until then, let the exploding handshakes and impromptu vocabulary lessons live on!

The Ripple Effect

MPI's new Library/Teen Center had its grand opening a few weeks ago, and life here in the valley couldn't be better. With the acquisition of our very own space, we have a home in the community where we work. A permanent residence where we can hold our programs and be available to community members at all hours of the day. I already see a change in how the library has affected our presence in the community. We belong there now, instead of feeling like intruders for a few hours each day. Below is a recap of my afternoon in our beautiful new space: 

After children's English class, I found myself in the Kid's Corner of the library, the sole authority figure to 12 energetic and infinitely curious Ecuadorian munchkins. The first 10 minutes or so consisted of trying to rapidly respond to multiple questions from all sides simultaneously. 

- Profe! Profe! How do you turn on the light???

- Well, you have to put in the battery first.

- We did that! But it's still not working!

- Let me try...

Upon closer inspection of the donated microscope kit, the batteries the kids were trying to jam into the machine looked like they had been eaten by a metal robot, regurgitated, and rolled over by a tractor. I mentally put double-A batteries on our "To Buy" list for the library...

- Profe Jocelyn, did you take a bath today?

- Yes, I did. Did you?

- Si! Si! I DID take a bath today! (With a huge smile, clearly very proud of himself)

- Profe, what were you doing in the other room?

- Profe, look what I can do! (as he puts another kid in a choke hold)

- Profe, where did you get that candy? (whoops)

...etc.

(Enter stage left- Mateo and Milena, brother and sister, both under the age of 10, and two of the dirtiest children I have ever encountered)

Mateo - Profe, can we play Monopoly today?

Me - No, not today.

Mateo - Why not?

Me - Because the big kids have it in the Teen Center. But there are lots of other things we can do instead!

Mateo - (not convinced) Hmmm, like what?

Me - Well, we can do puzzles, or color... or we can read! Do you like to read?

Mateo - No. Reading bores me. 

Milena - Yeah! Reading's boring! (I know from our programs that neither kid can actually read)

Me - I don't believe you. Have you read a lot of books?

Milena - (lowers head and looks up sheepishly)

Me - Oooo, well until you read some books you don't know if it's boring or not, do you? Come on, I'll show you a book that's fun to read!

Within two minutes, Milena was completely absorbed in the classic tale of a guy who absolutely refused to eat green eggs and ham under any circumstance. After each new situation ("Would you, Could you, In a boat?"), I would turn to Milena and ask, "What do you think? Will he eat it?". "Nooooo", she would respond, shaking her head, her large eyes full of certainty. At the end, after smiling with relief when he did finally try the green eggs and ham (and liked them!) she eagerly asked which book I was going to read her next. By this point, I had an audience sitting around listening, so I showed her one of my other favorites (The Cat in the Hat), and we continued with story time until the library shut down at 6:30 and all the kids went home. 

As I walked toward the bus stop on my way back home, I took in my surroundings. Looking out above the mountains, I marveled at the sunset, the colors, and the clouds. Suddenly, I was distracted by a stumbling figure, and instantly pulled back to solid ground. I realized it was a boy, no more than 15 or 16 years old, blatantly drunk across the street from me, his backpack still on from school. The boy struggled to make it to a patch of grass where he collapsed in a sitting position and passed out upright. The sense of triumph I felt from getting Milena to read, and enjoy it, was transformed into a sense of desolation from the reminder of the environment where our kids grow up. Things like this that are commonplace in their community, that they bear witness to each and every day, have a huge influence on the choices they will make as they grow older and the futures that will be available to them in response to these choices. 

This laid-back time that we spend with the kids now in the new library will make more of an impact on them than our programs have in the past, I think. The English and Art classes that we provide are important as well, of course, to help them develop skills that they don't get in school, but in a more relaxed atmosphere we get to know them on their level, and they see us more as role models or friends. I hope that in the months to come, we can encourage reading and a love for books in the kids who come hang out in our space (lured at first by bright colored furniture and fancy games) along with other things. With us consistently in their neighborhood,  supporting good values and building their confidence, I hope that they will find the types of role models that they need to work toward a positive future. Role models that, before our presence in the community, were few and far between. Our presence alone might show them options that before might not have been very apparent. At the very least they have someplace to go and hang out after school that is an enriching environment rather than a damaging one. And this is how whole communities change for the better, one person at a time. 

Barrack and Roll!

Yesterday, we at MPIE spend one of the most historic days of our country's history well outside of its borders. Not only was the first African American U.S. president being sworn in, but the event marked the first real change in U.S. leadership during our politically conscious lives. The last time George W. Bush was not our president, I was 15 and way more preoccupied with tennis practice and geometry than foreign affairs and taxes. This particular shift, however, we have been following with scrutiny, from reading daily articles online to organizing and attending debate watching parties in Quito. Yesterday was significant in that we were all extremely aware of what this shift in power meant for us and for our country. 

Dunc, Serena, Dana, Eliah, Mark, and I were able to go to a gringo restaurant in the Mariscal to watch the swearing in ceremony. It was PACKED with Americans. Even though most of us didn't know each other, a sense of unity and pride pulsed throughout the room as we listened to the resonation of Aretha Franklin's "America the Beautiful" and watched politically significant figures from both parties walk the grounds of Washington together, side by side. 

I thought about how there must be pockets of U.S. ex-pats literally all around the world just like us, experiencing the same thing so far from home, and that even though I had no idea who or where these people were, we all have one thing in common. 

Coming from such an amazing country makes experiences abroad even more special than they would be otherwise, because we feel secure that no matter where we go or what we desire to see, America the Beautiful will still be there waiting for us when we choose to return. And that though things do change, the values that our country is built upon, and the people within it, remain steady. Because of this, the American dream stretches to all ends of the Earth as its citizens venture out to try to make a difference beyond its borders and to experience new and exciting things. 

If you know where you come from, you know where you have potential to go. I know for a fact that where I come from has directly influenced the things I have been able to do here in our little community south of the equator. Our programs and projects are a direct reflection of the ideals instilled in us by the United States, and by all of our supporters back home. Yup, that means you   : )

Hasta, 

J

Feliz Año Nuevo!!!

Happy 2009! I'm back in Ecuador after spending a few weeks in the States for X-mas and a week in Quito with my family. This blog was written partly in the states, and partly here- hence the discrepancies in timing  : )  

Some topics from my 2 week vacation in the great state of Texas...

1. Culture Shock!

Living in the U.S. we sometimes get offended by foreigner's perceptions of us. We think, "how horrible for others to generalize our huge, culturally diverse, melting pot of a country into simplified labels or characteristics such as 'excessive consumerism', 'instant gratification' and 'personal entitlement'. There is more to our country than that!" Unfortunately, this stereotype is pretty dead on compared to a large portion of the world. As I type this, I'm sitting in front of a VENDING MACHINE that sells iPods, digital cameras and palm pilots! With just a flick of the wrist and a basic credit card limit these $200 Sony headphones could be mine! A real upgrade from those cheap things the flight attendants pass out for free on the plane. Hmm, maybe I should impulsively invest in a pair before boarding in 10 minutes. After all, my flight IS a whole 2 hours... don't want to arrive in Miami with sore ears. 

I used to be immune to the ridiculosity of this semi-recent vending machine phenomenon. It has become commonplace for every major company to try its hardest to force its product into your mental unconscious, convincing you that you NEED said product to get on with your daily life. Whether it be the smallest MP3 player on the market, the cell phone with the newest feature (that will be outdated in 2 months), this season's Prada bag (even though last season's is still perfectly functional), or your 10th pair of Seven Jeans- so that you can wear the same thing as all of your friends (what ever happened to being an individual?), NONE of these things are needed to live a fun and fulfilling life. But we are made to think they are. We get used to being bombarded with messages of "BUY BUY BUY" from almost every aspect of our typical environment. I used to regard it as normal... but it's not. This is some strange country I'm vacationing in this Christmas!

2. Food!

My first impression getting off the plane in Miami 2 weeks ago: Americans are TALL!! And constantly eating. Waiting for my connecting flight to Dallas, a woman was sitting next to me scarfing a huge mayo-infested sandwich washed down with Lays potato chips, another woman was focused intently on licking the red sauce off her fingers from her personal sized pepperoni pizza, a teenage girl was guzzling her Starbucks pumpkin spice latte (yummm) and a boy was eagerly digging into his McDonald's value meal (which, at $3 still costs twice as much as a typical Ecuadorian almuerzo). That being said, I myself fall victim to the wonderfulness that is food in the U.S. In the States we are so lucky to have such an amazing selection of tasty treats available to us 24/7- if you have the money for it that is. 

Dunc and I share a passion for all things culinary- ask anyone in the Manna house, so the first time that the two of us had lunch in the kitchen of the Fulton residence was quite an experience. Everyone watched in horror as the two of us gleefully shoved anything and everything into our mouths as if discovering food for the first time. Meat, fudge, cheese, hummus, pasta salad, olives, chips & salsa, pesto, coffee cake, etc... There was no thought or order involved- just basic, primitive, animal instincts at work as my taste buds told my brain to tell my hands to keep going. It was completely out of my control. After 5 months of bananas and rice making up a significant portion of my diet, this was nothing short of paradise. 

3. A Lancaster Family Christmas

For those of you who aren't already familiar with our traditions, I'm going to take you on a journey through a typical Christmas with our family. The big family gathering takes place on Christmas Eve. We eat, talk, play Fireball Island or Loaded Questions, and celebrate our super cool Grandma's birthday (which falls on the 24th) with presents, witty cards, and one of my mom's amazing cake creations. Each year the evening begins by attending the Christmas Eve service at HPUMC, then heading back to the Fulton's for our annual dinner of freshly made tamales (Tex-Mex style!). While the tamales are being cooked, most are chatting over a glass of wine, except for me, Dunc, Tobin, and Kendra. The four of us eagerly hover over the chips, chili con queso, guacamole, and jalapeño jelly appetizers (yes, the food thing again) stuffing ourselves to such an extent that by the time dinner is ready, we are hardly what you would call hungry. 

Moving into the dining room, the conversation during dinner is unique. Best quote of the evening this year: "Christmas in our family is like a Woody Allen movie. Where else does the son-in-law say to the grandmother, 'You are the Michael Jackson of the family!'?" To which Uncle Duncan promptly replied, "Yeah, except Woody Allen movies are over after 2 hours." Badaboom. 

4. Pneumonia.

One unfortunate aspect of my 2 weeks in the States was my bout with pneumonia. Pneumonia?? Seriously? Who gets pneumonia anymore anyway... that disease is ancient. Luckily, we caught it early, and I was treated promptly with massive amounts of antibiotics after spending 6 hours in the ER the day after Christmas (yayyyyy). All in all, I was very lucky to be in the states when it happened and to get it taken care of quickly and effectively, but it was still a bummer to lose precious days of state-side fun due to being bedridden. Anyway, I'm 100% better now, special thanks to Aunt Kay and Grandma for taking care of me after my own parents left town! AND the hospital gave me a CD with the ultrasound of my organs and my chest X-rays! What a cool souvenir. Now I'll always be able to remember those days of painful breathing and zero energy. Dulce. 

Well, once again this blog kind of ran away with itself lengthwise. If you stuck around to the end (*coughMomAndDad*), hope you enjoyed it! Besitos de Quito!

J

Flies.

The months I've spent here in Quito have been thought provoking to say the least. Every new experience incites me to ponder random things as I compare my new life to the old one and wonder at what will come next. One topic that never reaches this mental stream of unsure speculation however, is the weather. While there are minor changes in climate from day to day, each of us wakes up every morning with the secure knowledge that outside it will be sunny, clear, and warm until around 2pm when the clouds start to roll in, and then you'd better not be caught outside the house without an umbrella or- at the very least- your rain jacket. 

Additionally, the temperature here stays at a very pleasant 70-something degrees Farenheit year round. Because of this, no Ecuadorian buildings have heating or air conditioning. Interior climate control consists of nothing more than the opening and closing of windows and doors. This system works very well considering the agreeable weather conditions, except for one thing- the flies. When you open your home to the elements of nature, you unfortunately cannot choose which elements to invite in and which to deny access. 

Recently, we have had an influx of these small, winged guests who always insist on overstaying their welcome. Mostly, we get used to it, and attempt to work despite their buzzing and hurried flight patterns. Sometimes, though, when concentrating or stressing over something really important, the little black flies can be the annoyance that sends you over the deep end into borderline insanity or a state of intense fury. This happens most often with Dunc and Eliah, who stage mini-wars against our undersized and rapidly moving intruders. It took a few trial battles for their skills with the fly-swatter to fully blossom (apparently the strategy for combating flies is different from the thought process used in Risk world domination), but now they are each quite good at making contact, saving us all from continuous irritation. 

These bouts of man vs. insect struggles are really quite humorous and provide light hearted entertainment- for us at least, not so much for the flies- that can break up the monotony of email chains and lesson planning. The one problem that is becoming more and more apparent as the battles become more successful is that the final resting place of the fly casualties is usually smack dab in the middle of a wall in a household common area. Almost every room I walk into now, be it the kitchen, the upstairs work space, the downstairs living room, or even the bathroom, contains evidence of another human victory in the form of a small lifeless insect fixed to the wall, visibly contrasting against the eggshell colored paint. I brought this up at the last meeting but I have yet to see anyone make any effort to dispose of the remains. Maybe this is because, at the time, everyone was a little distracted watching Mark as he pursued another worthy adversary with the fly-swatter who had rudely attempted to interrupt our discussion. In true spirit of knowing when to pick your battles, I'll let the boys keep theirs with the flies and keep pursuing my own of trying to get Manna to pay for ice cream.   : )

Hasta Luego,

J

Mi Cumple

Although turning 23 is something that I have dreaded for approximately the last 11 1/2 months ("22" seems to give the impression of one who is still young and sprite, bordering that invisible line between adolescence and adulthood, while "23" is the age at which society expects a person to possess the grown-up traits of maturity and responsibility) my fellow PD's here in Ecuador made my birthday celebration such that my mind almost never drifted to the topic of aging. 

My actual birthday fell this past Tuesday, which was a busy workday as usual. Although I spent the morning sending emails and making lesson plans, by the time we got to Apoyo Escolar (our after school homework help program) in the afternoon I had received many "Happy Birthday" wishes- from all the PD's, and, to an even larger e

xtent, from the kids at programs who seemed determined to surprise me with gifts and homemade cards. Melissa and Dennis brought a stuffed animal (that we think is something between a giraffe and a cow) which they gave to me as soon as I got there, and the kids who finished homework early spent their time making me cards with paint, construction paper and markers. It was very cute.

After Apoyo, Seth and I walked down to Alinambi where we had a meeting about a Sewing Workshop project. Inside the gate, all the women were gathered in a circle around a piece of wood and a large bag. My curiosity really peaked though when Sarita came outside carrying a large machete. Turns out, inside the bag were a bunch of cow legs (yes- cow legs) severed right below the knee, some still with fur, and the mach

ete was for hacking them into pieces to make soup. It's always something! As the meeting would no doubt be starting late, Seth got roped in to helping cut the bones despite his protests and somewhat green looking face. Two hours later, we started off for home in the rain and were welcomed by a fantastic dinner of pumpkin-sausage pasta (thanks Serena!). 

Wednesday was when we had decided to celebrate my birthday at the house. It was my cooking day and I had been waiting to make a pumpkin spice cake using the canned pumpkin mom sent from home. So after another typical day of work and programs, I got to work in the kitchen with the help of my sous chef for the night- Tyler (Seth's friend from the Peace Corps who stayed with us for a few days). After dinner, Holly

 shoo'd me out of the kitchen and proceeded to adorn the cake with 23 candles which she brought out as everyone sang a lovely chorus of the birthday song. After blowing out all the candles in one try (yessss!!) and carefully licking the icing off, I got a face-full of cinnamon-pumpkiness (thanks Mark) followed by a pile of presents from my housemates. The presents were nothing less than amazing. They included, chocolate from the states, flowers, glass earrings (to replace ones that I got here and lost), a Jean Claude Van Damme biography in Spanish (huh?), Home Alone 1 & 2, and CD's with new music (does this mean people are tired of my reggaeton??). 

We watched Home Alone 1 last night (check out the Daily Life blog for more on that subject), and I'm already halfway through my chocolate.  : )

Tonight we are going out to dinner at a restaurant with all you can eat tapas and all you can drink wine to combine October's Manna Meal with the celebration of two birthdays (me and Johanna- who is visiting from Guayaquil!). It's been another awesome week that I'll never forget. So glad I got to spend my birthday this year with amazing people in an amazing country! Thanks to all the MPIE crew for making my cumple so fun!

Until next time

-J