Sunday, November 30, 2008

Last One

Alrighty, I think that I have decided I'm not very into this whole blog thing. Because this whole trip during my conversations with Becky, I keep saying "Oh, I should write a blog about that" and then I never do. So, had I been a better blogger I would have wrote about the man on the bus who made the bus driver turn down the music so he could talk to us and proceeded to hold a conversation with us while yelling for the whole bus to hear. He was just on for a few minutes, selling something but felt a need to ask us if we are married and to warn us about falling in love with Ecuadorian men and told me my eyes are the color of the sky. It was a wonderfully embarrassing conversation that the entire bus listened to and the girls behind us were getting a kick out of it and laughing up a storm.
I also would have wrote about the old man on the beach last Monday who was selling his little tray of packaged cookies and chips and gum. He danced a jig for us while singing about something or another. He then talked to us and got really excited that we are from the states and told us how he loves talking with people. He then danced another jig and sang a song about how he's traveled all over Ecuador and we are the most beautiful women he's ever seen.
I would also have written about the man we met at the mall who is from Miami and has lived in Ecuador for the past 8 years because he believes the white race is going to be exterminated in the U.S. He turned out to be the most racist man I've ever met and I'm pretty sure he is an apostate who would love to be a polygamist in the Andes mountains. He kept telling Becky and I how beautiful and white we are and that the only beautiful women left in the world are Mormon, that we have a light in our faces. We defended President Monson and kept taking steps back as he took steps forward.
I also would have written about seeing iguanas in the wild for the first time.
And seeing the moon for the first time in Ecuador a few weeks ago. And how I saw 7 stars today and that was a really big deal.
And how I feel like a good teacher and understand the workshop finally.
And how I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with Becky and our only American friend, Ethan. It was a huge success.
And how I rode a bike on the route of the waterfalls and saw the tallest waterfall in Ecuador. And I 4-wheeled up a volcano. And I went to the Amazon.
That's all I can think about right now. We lose internet at midnight tonight since it's the end of the month. So this is the last entry from Ecuador. It's been fun. It's been the hardest experience of my life but also possibly the most rewarding. I'm grateful for all of my experiences and I'm glad that Becky and I have become such great friends. I've learned a ton and am excited to get back to the states and get on with life, applying all of the things that I've learned here. So, we are taking off on December 10th and until then we are spending 6 of the next 9 days at the beach. It's gonna be great. So, see ya'll soon!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Take Me Home


"Country roads, take me home, home...where I belong"... what a great John Denver song. It's not that I don't like Ecuador, nope, it's just that I REALLY REALLY REALLY love home. And with only 20 days left before I'm on a blessed plane bound for home I can't think of much else. In my defense it has been over 7 months since I was home. Over 7 months since I've seen my parents and my little sister, Tara. That's a long time. And I think my cravings for American food are getting the best of me. Mostly, I think I just really miss loved ones. And my own culture. Fall is such a traditional time of year for us, what with all of our holidays and traditions for the changing seasons, and it happens to be my favorite time of year and I'm a bit sad to miss all of it. I was reading the Odyssey recently and came across a quote that I really liked, "I know no sweeter sight on earth than a man's own native country". That may never ring so true to me as it does right now. I never realized how much I love the United States until I left it twice this year. Not that I regret it, it's just that I'm really ready to be done. So, as I cram these last 3 weeks to finish my classes, and as I lose internet access in 11 days, pray for my sanity. I'll be home soon but not soon enough!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Laughing My Way Through Ecuador

Alright, so I haven't had a chance to write about how my feelings have changed over time about Ecuador. I feel like I owe an apology to the country for not making amends. So, here goes. Once upon a time Becky and Natausha came to Guayaquil, Ecuador. The first 2 1/2 weeks were all fun and games and they felt like tourists and everything was new and crazy and exciting. Then they realized they weren't tourists, but they actually lived there. Then came the month of October when they hated life and wanted nothing more than to get on the next plane back to the states. It was hard living in Guayaquil, it was dirty, hot, and dangerous. Then they both had an emotional breakdown and self pity party on the same day. The next day, they left for Cuenca to get away and take a vacation to stay sane.
Something happened in Cuenca. For me, I found purpose in being in Ecuador. I wrote down all the things that I have learned and personal progress that I've made and realized a lot of good had come from my stay in Ecuador. I confronted my problem of being unhappy and made a conscious decision to change it and prayed for help. Well, Becky and I worked together and we started out just deciding to laugh about everything that bothers us. To make fun of it. So, we began making fun of everything rather than letting it get to us. We apparently laughed about life in Ecuador enough that it took root. Because now we aren't laughing to cover up the fact that we're annoyed. We genuinely laugh. At everything. And we actually like Guayaquil. It doesn't look ugly like it used too. We even though the river looked kind of blue today. I don't want to throw stones at men anymore. Well at least most of the time I don't. And I'm understanding the people and culture more than before. And tonight, I noticed that once again everything fascinates me. It's great. Yeah, we still place our hand over our heart when we pass the airport, but we're enjoying ourselves all the same. I might actually miss this place. I'm growing fond of it. It's been unbelievably fun to laugh almost constantly together, life is good. Ecuador is good. It sure has its problems but somehow I see positive things now. I've adjusted. And I'm excited for all of the memories to make over the next 4 weeks.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Thoughts on the Election


Alright, I know many people may be kind of tired of all the political talk and speculation but I have a few thoughts to share. Some thoughts that many people probably have not considered. So, Obama won. Typically I believe I tend to favor the Republican side of things, but I am definitely willing to lend a listening ear to the Democrats. I don't think it's necessarily good that Obama won, but I also am not very informed and therefore hesitate to form an opinion because I don't believe in forming them in ignorance. But, regardless of your political orientation here's the fact of the matter: Obama is Democrat, and now the majority lies with the Democrats in both the House and the Senate. I don't know much about politics (something I would like to change in the coming years) but I know enough to realize that this means maybe things will actually change a bit. Maybe bills will get passed. And maybe the government is going to be a bit liberal for my liking over the next 4 years. But you know what? That's okay. I'd like to remind everyone of something: The United States of America is great. It's awesome. It's relatively stable. Our little jumps in the DOW and our gay marriage debates are absolutely nothing compared to the rest of the world. You know what, no matter who won the race it was going to be a controversial outcome and a very unsure future as far as policies go. And maybe Obama isn't going to be everyone's favorite President. But he's not going to re-write the Constitution of our country. And the U.S. military isn't going to come in and overthrow him, only to take power themselves. And this my friends, is more than Ecuador can say. This is more than the majority of countries of this world can say. I love our country more and more each day that I am away from it. We are a blessed people and millions of the world's population envy us. Can you imagine if the U.S. military came in one day and took over the white house?? That just doesn't happen in our country. But it does in others. We are in troubled times, the war in the middle east stinks, the economy could be better, and I wish gay marriage was illegal in every state, but let's not blame the world's problems on one man. Let's give our President a break, whoever he may be. Sure Bush could have done things differently but I also think he got thrown a lot of crap that he just had to work with and try to make it less crappy. Obama is going to be dealing with the same stuff. And one man can not solve the world's problems. But you know what? We still have a dependable Democratic Government and a Constitution inspired of God. What a blessing! So, let's be grateful and happy, shall we?

Friday, October 31, 2008

Oh Ecuador

This is a collection of random thoughts and experiences in Ecuador that I don't want to forget, it will be updated periodicially...

1. Remember the unmarked hole in the road that I wrote about in the blog about riding the bus? And I wondered how cars miss it? Well they don't. I saw some poor guy with his family in quite the pickle because he had run the corner of his car into that hole.

2. Forget sleeping on picnic tables at rest stops, this truck driver hung a hammock from the bottom of his truck and went to sleep on the side of the road.

3. There's a really popular restaurant that our boss took us to, he used to go there when he was our age. Here's the catch, all workers must be gay/transvestites. Our waiter was first a man but now a woman. Apparently it's been like that from the beginning. But the food was really good!

4. The family vehicle is a motorcycle. You see 1 and 2 years olds on motorcycles all the time with their parents. I think the most I've seen is a mother, father, and 2 kids on the same motorcycle. Although I may have seen 5 people on one once.

5. On our way to Quito we passed a man plowing his field... with Oxen.

6. Our kitchen faucet sounds like a sinking ship.

7. Every couple of days we get attacked by a large army of ants. For this reason our apartment usually has the fresh smell of insect poison. I am 100% sure I will be bringing ants home in my suitcase.

8. 6 liters of water is really heavy to carry for 20 minutes.

9. Orange juice + soy = who does that?? Oh yeah, Columbia apparently.

10. Institute dances are held with the lights on. And everyone dances with only one person the whole night. And you just shuffle your feet in a about a 4 inch radius to the salsa. In a line. It's a very confining feeling. If you start waving your arms or moving your head a lot to the beat, like an American, people stare. Or the guy you're dancing with laughs at you.

11. 8 pieces of bacon costs about $3.

12. The bakeries have cakes and pastries that look like works of art. They look delicious. They are better off as art. Sugar isn't very sweet here, and unfailingly their beautiful desserts are disgusting. Look but don't touch.

13. The tank truck is what I affectionately call the money trucks. They show up at supermarkets, gas stations, malls, businesses... any time money is transferred they have an armed band of about 5 men in uniform with large guns. So when you are buying water at the gas station while this is taking place there is a man with a large gun standing behind the counter, 2 feet from you.

14. Ecuador can never make change for your cash. You pay with a $5 for a $3 purchase and you still have to wait 5 minutes for someone to bring change. Or at markets, they run around to all the neighboring tiendas to change out your $10 or $20 bill. It's so strange.

15. Customer Service isn't a very top priority in these parts.

16. Every ice cream flavor tastes a bit like coconut.

17. Wanna do something really wild and rebellious? ... Brush your teeth with tap water.

18. Iguana roadkill. Enough Said.

19. You know how Americans always try to sneak into meetings and classes if they are late? Ecuadorians come in loudly, and while the teacher is teaching will say "Buenos Dias" to everyone or individually greet people, including the teacher. There is absolutely no shame in interrupting.

20. Another cultural difference: Americans don't like to correct each other. We will just sit silently and think, "I know what they meant", if they say a word wrong while reading, we let them go on. Not Ecuadorians. They will correct you and keep correcting you until you acknowledge your mistake and correct it. And they will argue until a matter is resolved, no matter how small, and how much it does not relate to the main point of the lesson or conversation.

21. You never know when you are going to get hit by a car.

22. I bought a pineapple for 90 cents.

23. There are random men directing parallel parking along the road. They expect to get paid for their services but they usually don't. But the point is, if there's not enough room for your car, the man will just shove the other cars forward or backward to make room for yours! So, if you come back and your car is a few feet from where you left it, that's why.

24. Forget chainsaws, I saw a man cut down a tree down the street from my apartment with a machete! Yeah, the whole tree.

25. When Becky and I see an airplane taking off(we live a mile from the airport so we see a LOT), we almost feel like we should stop and place our hand over our heart as a sign of respect and liberty.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

The Tank Truck

My ode to the tank truck.
Oh tank truck, what pure power you convey,
Your pure green camouflage color leaves me awestruck,
And you undoubtedly keep others at bay.

Those intimidating men with big guns form a strict line,
Which starts at your truck frame with no doors,
And runs inside to where the money lies in it's shrine.
All the while I watch, as your engine roars.

I admire your bullet proof windows,
The guards pacing back and forth, intent on their mission,
And think how they stand ready to deal out deathblows,
And with this, my face goes a bit ashen.

I can't help but want to take a picture,
But a funny feeling of hesitation prevents me,
Gun shot wounds, i just don't think I could endure,
Yep, that would definitely be crummy.

And so I continue thinking,
That maybe an ode to the tank truck will just have to do,
Oh tank truck, you at first seemed so frightning,
But I must admit, I've grown rather fond of you.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Paranoia and Scary Stories

In honor of Halloween I have decided to dedicate this blog to the happenings of the last couple of days and tell you all of the ways I have learned that I could die in Ecuador. It all started with one big misunderstanding. You see, we have learned the hard way that we are expected to check in with our boss when we are traveling, just so they know where we are because they feel responsible for us. So, when we went to Cuenca we were so proud of ourselves for calling Johnny and letting him know that we had arrived safely and had a hotel room. We have lived on our own for years and this whole having to report to people for our wellbeing is a big step for us. So, we returned from Cuenca and had been in our apartment for no more than 5 minutes, and it was Johnny on the phone. He then proceeded to tell me something about how people were really worried about us, that someone by the name of Fernando had even called SLC and had our Salt Lake people going crazy with worry and that he was getting calls every 5 minutes to see if we had arrived yet. So, just to let us know, they had called SLC, and then he asked about our trip and if we had fun and whatnot. I got off the phone very confused, because for once Johnny didn't even seem worried about us. And so I told Becky the story but we didn't know a Fernando, and who on earth would know to call Mimi in SLC? I was pretty sure I understood Johnny's Spanish, and pretty sure that the story was correct but it didn't make sense and I thought I was going crazy.
Shortly after, our cell phone rang. It was Landes from BYU, wanting to make sure we're alive. We assured him we were and he told us Johnny had called SLC and that everyone was in a frenzy. I was pretty sure Johnny said some guy named Fernando had called SLC and not himself so after getting off the phone w/ Landes I called Johnny back. I told him, "We just talked with Landes from SLC, and we don't understand what happened" and he said, "me neither".
Johnny proceeded to explain that his boss, the area welfare manager, who lives in Bogota, Columbia is in town and started asking about us. Johnny told him we were traveling and so his boss started asking all sorts of questions, where we were, who we were with, how long we were going to be gone, etc. Johnny basically said, they're by themselves but I put them in contact with the employment specialist in Cuenca, and they called when they arrived, and are traveling today. Johnny had to leave the office for a few hours and when he returned his boss had called SLC, extremely worried for our safety for some reason, thinking we were lost to Ecuador. So, we sent lots of e-mails, talked on the phone, and assured our bosses and those in SLC that we are alive and there weren't any problems and we didn't know why Johnny's boss was so worried and had called SLC.
Johnny's boss is named Carlos Fernandez, not Fernando. But between Becky and I, we still affectionately call him Fernando. And he wanted to meet with us this morning. So we went in and had quite the lecture about safety. He explained how if anything happened to us it would be an international crisis for the church and for BYU. He then gave us guidelines, saying we should check in every day when we are traveling, pay a little bit more for a secure hotel, and never take a taxi from the street. Well, our hotel although only $7 a night in Cuenca was plenty secure, and I suppose he doesn't know that we don't actually ever go out after dark because it's not safe, and when we are traveling we are seriously in bed at 9 p.m. But the taxi thing was a new one. This is when we found out about all the ways we could die in Ecuador.
Hermano Fernandez explained that Ecuador has become more dangerous in the last 8 months because of the rise in unemployment, poverty, and government changes. Also, apparently they recently released a whole prison full of people and so there are tons of thieves running loose on the streets. He told us more about a drug we have heard about. We have been advised not to take anything from anyone because there could be a drug on the paper that makes you lose your freewill. He explained that the drug is absorbed through the skin and so you lose your freewill but are still conscience and will do anything you are told, whether this includes sex, robbing a bank, or killing someone. Then, when the drug wears off the victim won't remember a thing. He also talked about taxis and how we could be kidnapped and there was a girl kidnapped recently when she took a taxi to institute and nobody knows what happened to her. Typically girls kidnapped in taxis are either shipped off to Japan for prostitution, or to the FARC (columbian drug lords) for prostitution, or they are killed and their organs are sold.
Well, none of these options sounded attractive and so when we went grocery shopping after our safety lecture, we decided to walk instead of taking the taxi like we usually do. I'm not sure if we did this out of obedience to our leader or out of fear of murder and kidnapping. So, we walked the 20 minutes home laden with heavy bags of milk, fruits, and vegetables. We just about died, it doesn't help that one of Becky's arms is broken. We laughed the whole way as everyone looked at us like we were crazy and as we took like 5 breaks to avoid our arms falling off. We were exhausted when we arrived home but satisfied that we were alive. We decided that maybe Ecuador really is as dangerous as people say, they obviously have a reason to worry. Maybe we have just been protected, we've taken a lot of taxis in our day. And so maybe Hermano Fernandez over reacted with the whole calling SLC thing, but maybe we should also just take the danger more seriously. One thing is for sure, we'll probably never get into another taxi again. We still kind of laugh at the paranoia of the men of Ecuador that have charge over us but at the same time, being lectured for the first time in as long as we can remember, did have some sort of effect on us. I'm not really sure what more we can do to be safe, we're pretty cautious but apparently everyone still thinks we're going to die if we go outside of our house. We're working on convincing them that we really won't.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Prostitutes, Nuns, and Mormons


What in the world would ever bring these 3 groups of people together into the same room? Well, let me tell you. The Self-Employment workshop, that's what. Yes, that's right, our 2nd week of teaching, we were enlisted to teach in the mornings to this eclectic group, as well as in the evenings at a stake in Guayaquil. Here's the story: Apparently the nuns put on street clothes and go to the sector of the city where the prostitutes are working and then say something along the lines of "Why are you doing this? Don't you want something better? Come with me and we'll put your life back together" or something along those lines. The prostitutes then make the decision to change their life and follow the nuns to the convent where they go through some sort of rehabilitation and faith building program. The nuns contacted LDS Employment Services, wanting to put these ex-prostitutes through the workshop to help them get on their feet and start their own small businesses. I think the idea is to open a hair cutting salon, and the church has agreed to work with them and is even donating something like $5,000 to the cause to buy the lot space for the salon.
So, we taught the group, 2 nuns, something like 4 Mormons, and the rest ex-prostitutes. I hate labeling them like that, but that's what they were. However, they took the workshop and it was a lot of fun teaching them and helping them learn. Some were more enthusiastic than others, but it was definitely an overall success. We recently received news that those participants have since started up their own small business (small business in Ecuador can be anything from a lemonade stand to a mechanical shop), and are now working rather than continuing their previous practices. This is exciting and we hope to receive more details in the future of their successes. I really admire what the nuns are doing, and think it is a wonderful cause to help these women, who have so much potential, realize that they do have other options and they can have happier and more meaningful lives.

Teaching

Okay, so I'm not really in the mood to write a blog. But, I am here to teach and I haven't written anything about my teaching experiences thus far. And it's a Sunday evening in Guayaquil and I've been meaning to catch up on my blog for awhile, mostly because I also have been slacking on journal writing, which means nothing has been getting written down. In the life of Natausha Bennit, this is always a bad sign. For her, writing is therapeutical, and she is really sad when she realizes that here she is in Ecuador and she's not gonna remember anything about it because she is a struggling writer at the moment.
So here goes my try at catching up. I do at least have journal entries from this first week of teaching so most of this will be copy and paste. This is a pretty long entry but it will give you a good look at what it's like to teach.
Our second week in Guayaquil we went to El Cisne to teach. On the drive over, we realized these people are a lot more poor than we though. We were both making an effort to look into the dark windows and doors as we passed and saw that they really have nothing. They cram an entire family into a one room building the size of my living room, with a dirty cement or dirt floor. They are really really poor. Which is why this workshop was even more incredible. The following is a picture of the street the chapel is on.
We showed up to the building and we explained that I would be teaching the taller de autosuficiencia laboral (career workshop) and Becky would be teaching the taler de autoempleo (self employment workshop) and told them to separate and those who wanted the career workshop to follow me. Nobody moved. Turns out they ALL came for the self-employment workshop. That was a shock and not expected. So we adjusted. We moved to the cultural hall to fit all 75 people. (75 people was a shock in and of itself, past interns have talked about how they were lucky to have 10 people show up for a workshop) I was extremely disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to teach my workshop and had no idea what I was going to do for the next 3 hours because I know nothing about the self-employment workshop. Becky also doesn't know much about the workshop but she has at least read the 120 page teacher's manual. So we got started. I helped where I could, asking questions, organizing activities but I felt like I was just kind of there. Becky appreciated the moral support and the few minutes she had to plan what was coming next while I took over for a few minutes. But honestly, I had problems speaking because I was taken so off guard at having to help with this workshop that I had taken in training in 3 hours when it is meant to be 15 hours. I kept tripping over my words, not being able to pronounce anything, making word-choice mistakes, it was ridiculous. I was so annoyed. I know Spanish better than that.
The 2nd and 3rd day were substantially better. In fact I felt like a whole new person on the 2nd day. (September 25, 2008): I was surprised by how many people returned to the workshop. There was a training meeting for bishops and institute teachers tonight so we were missing some but we still had about 60 people. Mimi and Jeff and Robert are going to have a heart attack back in Salt Lake when we e-mail them about this. But everyone was there, dressed nicely, looking crisp and ready to continue. Since we were gone all day I didn't have time to read over the workshop still so I didn't have a clue what was going to happen. But we started and you know what, tonight was so much better than last night, and last night wasn't even bad. But tonight, we had arranged the benches into groups so it was much more organized and for some reason all of a sudden I could speak clearly and wasn't stumbling over any of my words. I was excited to be there. I was helping teach a workshop that I knew nothing about but improvising with the training I had from the other workshop and it was working! And I was understanding the participants, and we got around to them a lot more to talk individually and give one on one feedback. I was able to answer people's questions and offer examples to help them. Becky and I were working together, I was able to contribute some valuable ideas and we just learned as we went.
There are 2 older men who sit on the right side that we just love. They are always so willing to participate. Then there's the women in the first few rows who always nod their heads and I can see that they are learning and gaining from the information we are presenting and the activities they are practicing. And they smile as they learn. And I love it. And the way everyone loves the watermelon cheer that is so silly and yet they requested it twice tonight. The way they look at us and just love us for being there to teach them.
We had a 5 minute break half way through the workshop tonight and as they returned, first we were presented with a liter of red soda. I hate carbonation and soda, but I drank it anyway to show my appreciation. Then shortly after someone brought us each a little container of yogurt they had gone out and bought during break for us. And then I saw another man walk in with a liter of Coca Cola who then saw that we already had a drink and kind of hid it behind his back and didn't end up giving it to us. He shared with some of his neighbors instead. I was actually glad about that because I can't do dark sodas, that would have been hard. I could drink a little cup of the red stuff but coca cola would have been really really hard to get down. But can you believe that? These people are so poor, they have nothing, and yet they go out and spend some of the tiny bit of money they have, on drinks and snacks for us! I was so overwhelmed with love for these people that I just about started to cry.
So the workshop went really well. At the end of the evening many of the participants kissed us good-bye and confirmed that we would meet the next evening at the same time. This is incredible. Hispanics are known for being pretty non-committal people, but here we have 60 of the poorest people in the city, taking time away from work and children to come to this workshop to learn how to better their temporal lives. When we got out of the cultural hall and were getting into our waiting car I just loved the atmosphere. Some of the participants were standing around visiting and there were tons of kids everywhere. I think as the night goes on the kids tend to flock to the church where their parents are in th workshop for 3 hours. I just love how the kids ended up at the church late at night rather than out on the streets getting into trouble. Some teenage boys were on their bikes by our car and said good-bye to us and we said good-bye and then Becky thought that maybe they would like that liter of red soda more than we would. I heartily agreed and so Becky offered it to them and they excitedly took it from her. I added on that the only condition to them having that soda is to make sure and share it with their friends and made them promise to do so. I can't forget the look in their eyes as they looked at us. They were so happy and thrilled that we had just shared with them. And talked with them. We were probably the talk of the streets already, being 2 young American girls in their neighborhood. I doubt that happens too often. I could see the older guy with them, who looked more our age, look at us with deep appreciation for the thing we had just done. Such a small thing, that probably made their night from the way their faces lit up.
The 3rd day (September 26,2008) we went to Cisne for the final workshop. Upon arriving an hermana presented us with a gift, a really cute decorated notebook that she had made. Another presented us with a bracelet in a box with a teddy bear that she had made out of craft materials as well. And Becky just complimented an hermana on her purse saying she liked it and the hermana asked her if she wanted it, and Becky said "oh no, it's just that it's really nice, I like it" or something along those lines. But by the end of the night the hermana emptied her contents out of the purse and gave it to Becky as a gift. Two others told us they have gifts for us and they will bring them to the center. Another sister wants to have us over for lunch to her house, and cook us a traditional meal. Can you believe these people? They have so little but they are willing to give and genuinely appreciate us and what we're doing. They were learning, many thanked us and told us they had never thought of these things before, and were grateful for our sacrifice to come down here and teach them.
Congratulations if you read all of this. Apparently I was a lot better at keeping a journal the first couple of weeks here. But the bottom line is that first week of teaching was pretty amazing. I saw true poverty for the first time and am learning a ton about life and people and love.
The following is a picture from our graduation. We only managed to get about 45 people that stuck around for the picture and whatnot, but it's a good one nonetheless.




Monday, October 13, 2008

A Blessing in Disguise

Thursday October 9, 2008

Tonight I had a humbling experience that I would like to share. The details of our dinner experience are important to the story so bear with me.
Tonight we headed out to find a restaurant that we read about in Lonely Planet. It didn't look too far on the map so we started walking. It was 7 p.m. As we walked we discovered it was quite a bit further than we expected and we seemed to be heading into a darker part of town where we just saw lots of groups of men on the streets and passed by a few bars. By this point we had come too far to turn back and we did need to eat dinner so, after ducking into a florist shop so we wouldn't have to walk through a large group of men walking towards us, we finally arrived at our destination. The restaurant was empty and a little more than we wanted to pay. So we explored our options at that intersection, mostly pizza places. We ended up at pizza hut where at least the tip and tax was included in the price, which saved us 22% compared to the first place we went to. So, we ordered our food and sat down. Thirty minutes later they brought us our 2 bottles of water. By this time we were getting annoyed because we had been sitting for 30 minutes. After we had our water for about 15 minutes we still didn't have our appetizer of garlic bread. Becky went down to ask what was going on and they said the bread was just coming out of the oven. They brought it up thereafter. We waited some more, and were still very annoyed at having to pay more than $5 for dinner, and for the water which you can't get for free here since you can't drink tap water. Finally, 57 minutes after sitting down they brought us our lasagna and pasta. They both came with 2 garlic breads. We started laughing at the ridiculousness of that because we had ordered an appetizer of the exact same kind of bread and were already stressed about spending money. They had failed to tell us our dinner came with the exact bread we had ordered separately.
Now, the reason we were so upset with the situation is not only because we were tired and annoyed at waiting and spending money but, there is a widely known rule around here that the streets are not safe after 9 p.m. The guidebook even says to take a taxi after 9 even if it's only for 2 blocks. Well, we had taken a taxi last night a very short distance to get home and everything had seemed fine so we figured we could walk home if it was right around 9. I was annoyed at waiting for our food because I preferred to walk home without being robbed or raped. With this in mind we went downstairs to pay and I was proud of myself because I told her we had waited an hour for our food and asked if we could get a discount or something. She said "the thing is, there aren't any discounts". I replied with, "okay, but we waited for an hour, and that's a long time". I was calm but stern and without saying anything she rang up our order, and left off the garlic bread. I felt like it was some under the table deal but didn't feel bad, if it was the U.S they would have given us free bread, free drinks, and probably offered us a free dessert.
So, by this time we are just thankful to be done with Pizza Hut and decide it's just barely 9 p.m. and we can probably manage to get home with our money and our virtue intact. We start walking, quickly and with purpose, avoiding looking at anyone and doing our best to be aware of our surroundings. We stuck to the main roads as much as possible but eventually we had to turn down a longish darkish street that was completely deserted in order to get to our hostal. That didn't seem too good but we kept walking anyway, knowing that the grocery store was up the street a ways and that would be our next safe spot. As we walked I focused on the many prayers that I had said for our safety since we arrived in Quito, and kept a silent one going continuously as well. I thought of how good I have been doing with saying my prayers and reading my scriptures and I hoped that this faith and obedience would be sufficient to get us home.
Well we passed a street and I noticed the next block over I saw some running and yelling going on. I mentioned to Becky that it seemed like something was going on down the street but didn't think too much of it. A few minutes later we came upon a taxi, a family was just getting out. The taxi driver spoke to us out the window and told us there were 3 thieves up ahead and they had just assaulted some men with knives. For this reason police were just barely arriving but the attackers hadn't been caught. The assault had just barely happened and the taxi driver advised us not to keep walking straight. We quickly measured the situation and decided a taxi ride didn't sound too bad after all.
So, we drove past a bit of a ruckus as people scrambled around trying to catch the attackers, the taxi driver stopped and told the police which direction they had just gone, and then took us to our hostal. We thanked him for advising us of the danger and paid him a dollar for the ride. We got out of the car and I was overwhelmed by the realization of what had just happened. If we hadn't have been delayed at pizza hut we would have been walking the exact streets where the assault happened, right about the same time. Those men had assaulted other men with knives, I'd hate to imagine what it would have been like for them to come upon 2 young American girls all by themselves. Our delays had us walking by this taxi driver at the exact moment he was letting a car full of people out, he was stopped and was the only person on the road and was able to not only tell us not to keep walking but was able to get us safely out of the situation as well.
I felt bad for being annoyed and slightly angry at the situation in pizza hut. The delay truly was a blessing. I bet that probably didn't look to good up in Heaven, here Heavenly Father is, delaying us and keeping us out of danger and all we were doing is complaining and thinking that we were being put in danger by having to walk home a bit later. Becky brought up the talk by Elder Holland about there being angels all around us whether we know it or not. We might have had angels with us tonight that we couldn't see, but I know for a fact that taxi driver was our angel tonight as well. I'm so amazed at how Heavenly Father watches out for us and answers our prayers.

Andes Mountains

With the workshop canceled for the week Becky and I immediately decided there was a definite need to travel. We would have 6 1/2 days until we had to be back for a workshop. And so, the next morning after I got just under 3 hours of sleep I woke up and finished packing and we didn't get ready fast enough for the 6:45 bus but took the 7:30 a.m. one instead. The bus ride started out going through the bleak countryside that surrounds Guayaquil. But then it turned into miles and miles of banana plantations. We even passed a Dole plantation. I saw some but mostly I slept for the first 2 1/2 hours. Once I had caught up on a little bit of sleep I enjoyed watching out the window. It's one of my favorite things to do in life, watch landscape pass by. I wished that I had control of the bus and could stop it about a hundred times to get a good picture from a good angle that wasn't slightly blurry from motion. But, I made due. The banana plantations turned into groves of what looked like giant pineapples. Since the tree looked like a pineapple we assumed they were pineapple trees. There is a strong possibility that that is bad logic.
Slowly, the various tropical fruit plantations turned into tropical jungle covered hills. Then the tropical jungle covered hills turned into towering sharp jungle covered mountains. The bus wound up and around the mountains for hours, climbing higher and higher. The first time I saw the Andes mountains, half covered by clouds, took my breath away. I had no idea our destination was to go inside the clouds. Slowly the bus took the curves, stopped for construction delays, and bounced through pueblo roads. Higher and higher. I couldn't believe it. The views just kept getting better. But eventually I had to stop taking pictures because we were in the clouds and I couldn't see past the side of the road. I decided to ice my broken finger and so I stuck my hand out the window. It worked rather well. Sometimes I even alternated with heat treatment by sitting on my frozen fingers. Mostly I just iced it though. :)
I thought about the people who built the roads and wondered how many died from falling off the cliffs. Seriously. I thought I was going to die just driving on it. The Andes Mountains are incredible. I've never seen anything so sharp and never seen roads that actually climbed to the top of peaks before entering into the Andean highlands. The Highlands were something else. The greenest rolling hills and plains I've ever seen. Like Park City except 25 times better. And lots of indigenous people in traditional dress. By this time I had taken about 180 pictures of the scenery out the window and now that the roads were less windy I stopped trying to take pictures and let myself fall back asleep for a little bit.
To my pleasant surprise we never came down from the mountains. Quito lies in a skinny long valley. The city is fantastic. I already like it 10 times more than Guayaquil. But that's another blog entry. Bottom line of this one is that my first experience with the Andes Mountains was the highlight of my stay in Ecuador thus far. Incredible.

Fish Market

The Stake Center we went to on Tuesday night was right next door to the big Bahia, or Fish Market. We have heard lots of good things about this market and how you can get 25 crabs for $5 and lots of other great deals. So, since nobody came to the informational meeting, the workshop was canceled for the week and Johnny took us next door for a vital Guayaquil experience.
The market was bustling, cars coming and going constantly and once you walk through the gates you are in a madhouse. A fantastic, entertaining place that makes you smile from all the excitement, but a madhouse nonetheless. And once again when I say you I mean I. So, you walk into the market and your nose is assaulted by the very strong smell of raw, dead fish. The floor has drains throughout the entire market but they can never seem to catch up and so a layer of water covers the cement floor. You are wearing flat white shoes with a white skirt made with lots of swishy material and so you step carefully and hold your skirt in so it doesn't brush against wet buckets of fish or men who are covered in fish guts. Speaking of fish guts, those drains are filled with them, all at different stages of decomposition. Guts, bones, fish heads... some with a steady stream of red bloody water, originating at the chopping blocks. You are much more worried about your white flat shoes after seeing the streams of blood. But, back to the chopping blocks. The chopping blocks are huge surfaces made of tile, I imagine they are extremely unsanitary as they always have fish being chopped on them and as the fish are chopped they are doused with buckets of water to wash off the blood. Behind the chopping blocks are men with big fishing boots up to their knees or higher, with a machete in hand. They are very skilled and slice up the fish faster and more accurately than you've ever seen in your life. Perhaps that's because you've never been to a fish market. Or actually seen someone use a machete. You are entertained. You can't wait to come back with a camera. You know words will never do this place justice. There you see fish that are 4 feet longs and wider around than you are. They also have huge catfish that are about 2 feet long that come from the river. You wander how they eat fish from the river. The river is always brown, with trash floating in it and you can't see past the surface. You silently vow never to eat catfish in Guayaquil. At the same time you vow to come back and buy some fish from the sea. You just saw a man buy an entire bucket of fish for $10. You really like corvina and think it would be a good experience to have to cut the head off yourself and then gut it. For some reason unpleasant things in foreign countries are amusing to you and some of the unpleasant factor is taken away. You also know you have to buy cangrejos (crab). They come in bundles of about 25 and are tied together, still alive. Apparently the only way to buy them is alive. You have to kill them yourself. You don't know about that one. Cutting off the head of an already dead fish is one thing but killing a crab... that's murder. Well okay, not really. But still, you don't like killing things that are larger than a spider. But cangrejos are still a must, after all they're grown in trees around here. Seriously. Once you were driving down the road and Hermano Gomez pointed at some manglares (mangrove) trees and say that those woods are protected because they grow cangrejos. The word in Spanish for grow and raise are the same and so you laugh silently at the thought of growing crabs in trees. In reality, it is a swampy area and the crabs live in the muddy muck. You don't go a day in Guayaquil without someone talking about cangrejos. You think it should be the city's mascot.
Well, anyway that's about all there is to say about the fish market. Pictures and videos will come in the not too distant future. We're going to eat cangrejos at Johnny's house next weekend, it will be my first time to eat crab. I'm excited. We have to learn how to prepare it so we can do it in our house. Bottom line, the fish market was awesome. Ranked right up there with the Iguana Park. Speaking of iguanas, I saw iguana road kill the other day. No joke. I was intrigued. So here in Guayaquil they grow crabs in trees and hit iguanas with cars. Welcome to the strange city in which I live.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Machismo

Machismo

1. A strong or exaggerated sense of masculinity stressing attributes such as physical courage, virility, domination of women, and aggressiveness.

2. An exaggerated sense of strength or toughness

Machismo is a word used to stereotypically describe the males of Latin America. In many senses it can be an accurate stereotype, and in the next page and a half I will provide the evidence for saying that.

As a disclaimer for this blog entry, this is a stereotype and while there are many men in Latin America who display this personality trait, it is not true of any of the men that I keep company with here. All of the male members of the Church that I have met have been wonderful people and so have the few non-member guys that I've met. So, I in no way direct this blog towards any male that I know personally in Ecuador.

However, I do direct it at all of the insolent, greasy, and disrespectful men who love to stare and gawk and yell and honk and say crude things to Becky and I each and every day. So, I'm going to vent for a little bit.

I don't enjoy walking around here very much. Everyone honks their horn at us, men are always kissing at us or whistling or saying very dirty things, or just blatantly hanging their head out the window and gawking. I got mad on the way to the center the other day because a man did that, I was disgusted with the way he was looking at us. Like we're a piece of meat. These dirty, greasy men who seem to look at us and only see a potential partner in bed. It makes me sick and wish that I could do something to put them in their place. Something more than just completely ignoring them.

Let me tell you about a typical walk to work. We leave our apartment and if we are lucky there aren't any men on our street, but this is a rare treat. Usually there are men in cars and they honk or stare. So we walk to the end of the street and turn the corner. We usually don't have any trouble in the 30 seconds it takes to get to the main road from there. So then we have to cross an intersection and besides more men in cars honking and staring there is a gross old man across the street who is usually waxing a car or something. We have to walk right by him and he unfailingly says many crude things to us, I usually try to tune him out and definitely don't make eye contact but yesterday the word "preciosa" or "precious" stood out from his rambling at our retreating backs. Sometimes I get really mad at this man because the things he says are really out of hand, and he's a rather persistent little bugger. But yesterday I happened to glance at him for once and saw that he is anywhere from 50-60 years old and has about 3 teeth to his name. So, my first instinct was anger and disgust as the taunting word "preciosa" hung in the air but then I found it a little funny. He only has 3 teeth. And has at least 30 years on us. It was so gross and disturbing that I actually laughed a little at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

So anyway, next we cross through a gas station and try not to get killed as all of the cars cut through to beat the red light. Now we are really on the main road and are stuck on it for the next 20-25 minutes as we walk to work. We are subject to an almost continuous honking from the cars that pass by, a mixture of taxi drivers signaling their willingness to pull over and give us a ride, men who honk to signal the same thing but are not taxi drivers, and then there are the men in cars who honk with the sole purpose of expressing their appreciation of our presence on the streets of Guayaquil. With each honk my annoyance grows and I hope to never hear another honk again in my life. Along with the honks the men like to hang their head out the window and literally gawk at us for 10 seconds as they pass by. Others like to yell things and say "hola guapa" or "hola bonita" which are both literally translated as "hello beautiful/pretty" but when said in this manner are disrespectful and unnecessary. But wait, there's more. There's still all the men we walk by on the streets. More stares. More comments. More anger steaming from me. More desires to throw rocks at windshields and maybe at a few heads too. Nevermind, forget the heads, on these men I would throw it wear it counts. So, we walk along the road and come to my favorite part. And when I say favorite I mean it in the "passionately hated" sense of the word. A construction site. Here the sidewalk ends, and not only do we have to endure the cat calls, stares, and whistles from the construction workers , but we are forced onto the street and just pray that we don't get hit by a car, as the impatient cars weave in and out of each other, everyone trying to beat everyone else in the race to the red light up ahead.

Well anyway, you get the idea. Welcome to walking the streets of Guayaquil. A place where countless men evoke the most negative opinions of people that I've ever had in my life. I hate it. I hate being looked at that way. It's violating. It's even more annoying because we never encourage it and are always dressed modestly. I can not even express the disgust I feel, which is sad because I really like going on walks, but not here. Curse men who look at women and fail to recognize that they are daughters of God who have personalities, knowledge, talents, needs, and values. We deserve better. I deserve better.

Overcoming Language Barriers One Kiss at a Time

So every single person here always asks Becky and I if we have boyfriends. When we say no they get a very shocked look on their face and exclaim "why not?!". I'm not sure what the correct answer to that question is... so let's put it up for discussion. What are some good responses? Feel free to let your creative energies flow and give me something good to work with here. :)

So after we give some awkward lame excuse to explain away our singleness, without fail our inquisitors helpfully say that they know lots and lots of good Ecuadorian boys who would be perfect for us. Hermano Gomez, who drives us to and from our teaching assignments each day suggested his son. An hermana at the workshop last week told me she could e-mail me with lots of options of boys in her area. These are just 2 examples of the many offers we have received. It's quite out of hand. It's strange, it seems to be socially unacceptable for young eligible girls to be single. Honestly.

So Tuesday night we had an informational meeting with the leaders of the stake to explain the workshops. Before the meeting began we were talking with the stake president who asked us the much expected question about our relationship status. After we said no, he told us a couple of stories about American girls who had come to Ecuador in the past and ended up marrying Ecuadorian boys. He starts talking about how it's sometimes hard though, because of cultural differences. We agree and say that the whole language barrier thing can be hard to get through. He shakes his head and says "no, I'm talking more about culture. Different ways of doing things. You don't need language to kiss. You don't need language to eat". We nod and smile and hold our comments for later discussion. The following picture is us with the stake president:

At home Becky and I had a good laugh about that conversation. The thing is, he was completely serious when he said that. We decided we agree whole heartedly. Maybe he's right, you don't need language to kiss after all. Yeah, communication... relationships... definitely don't go together. Food and affection, that's what it's all about.

Friday, September 19, 2008

$3.05

September 18, 2008



This morning, after I found ants in my cereal (which was strange since we keep our cereal in the fridge) we called Ana Miria and asked her if she knew what bus to take to get to Malecon. She said a bus would be dangerous and we should take a taxi. So we did.




So about 10 years ago Guayaquil was a very dangerous, dirty place to visit. But then they had a big clean up project. Now, there is a very strong police presence in the city and Las Piñas, which used to be a big ghetto, is now the biggest tourist attraction of the city. They painted all of the houses different colors, put in stairs, gardens, restaurants, and monuments, with guards on every corner making sure it's safe, and now it's a beautiful place to visit, and you don't feel like someone is going to steal your camera every time you take it out. Although it's nice, I'm pretty sure it's all a facade. I believe there still exists just as much poverty as before, it's just hidden behind painted walls. Admittingly this project probably helped them, as they now have tourists to cater to as they sell their various crafts, foods, and beverages, but they're still living in tiny shacks stacked on top of one another.
So Becky and I were so happy to finally be able to take pictures of Ecuador in peace, and stopped numerous times as we climbed the 400 steps to the top of the hill. It overlooked another hill, one which had not been overhauled to become a tourist district. This hill, the hill of Santa Ana, is what I always imagine communities in South America to look like. Old shacks stacked on top of each other with narrow winding streets, laundry hung out to dry everywhere, and just shouting "poverty" from the roof tops. It was incredible to see. Not incredible in a good way, just in a shocking, "holy cow" kind of incredible. Even so, Becky and I were talking later and decided this probably was the least of it. They had land and walls. I bet they are a lot better off than the squatter communities that we are going to see on the south side of the community.
After sitting in the little catholic church at the top, taking a picture with the lighthouse and cannons, (they used to use the cannons to fight off pirates back in the day), we descended and bought a bottle of water for 30 cents and then stopped and bought some jewelry. We then left the Piñas and walked into the Malecon which is a fenced off landscaped walkway. I really like when we are in fenced in areas, I feel much safer and the atmosphere is much calmer. There were still guards every 50 feet, guarding the area, and that helped too. Being on the equator, the tropical gardens were fantastic. I've seen so many cool plants. We came to a part that reminded me of the river walk back home and then saw "cafe aroma" and looked at the menu. It said $2.50 for lunch which included soup, main course, juice, and dessert. We thought for sure $2.50 couldn't be right, but upon inquiring, it in fact was. So we sat down for lunch, in the shade along the water with a beautiful view of the gardens along the walkway. They brought us soup first, it consisted of squid, octopus, fish, and potato chunks with some delicious seasonings, including cilantro. I was intrigued. It was delicious. I loved it. The octopus in that soup was so much better than the octopus I ate in Seville, Spain. I ate every drop of my soup. They brought out our juice, they had told us it would be jugo de sandias (watermelon juice). We were skeptical, I don't like watermelon flavored anything. But I do love watermelon. So, they brought it out, and it might have been the best juice I've ever drank. It wasn't in fact watermelon flavoring, but the real deal. As if they stuck a watermelon in the blender. And it was slightly frozen. Oh man it was great. The main course consisted of a big scoop of rice, lentils, fried fish, and fried banana slices. This main course held up to par with the rest. The fish had some great seasoning on it. For dessert we had some sort strawberry sherbet/ice cream with strawberry syrup. With a tiny little spoon that looked kind of like a shovel. They billed us, with the tip included and it came to $6.10 for the both of us. $3.05 for a delicious, unique full course lunch, with a beautiful view of the gardens. Amazing.
We continued on our way and ducked into the bathroom to be surprised by a guard who was checking each stall door. We also discovered that you have to buy toilet paper for 5 cents. We only had dimes so we stuck with just rinsing our hands off in the sink which is the main reason we went in anyway.
We continued on our way walking and encountered the gardens that looked like the Amazon jungle and ran into our friend Gabriel. He let me use his hymnbook on Sunday in Gospel Doctrine, and was on his break from work. We talked with him for a long time, I keep being surprised by how Latin people love to talk. He told us some good places to visit in the area, and which bus we could take to get home (we can't afford to pay $3 for a taxi every time we want to go somewhere in the city, so dangerous or not we are taking the bus). He works in a building right next to the iguana park, so we walked with him back to work to visit the park.
The Iguana park is so awesome. Apparently iguanas are know as the mascota of Guayaquil (mascota means "pet"). Gabriel also told us that the area we live in was only built about 20 years ago and before that, it was a forest and there were lots and lots of iguanas in it. Well anyway, they don't call it the iguana park for nothing. It was so awesome. The iguanas were huge, and everywhere. We counted 20 iguanas in one little tree. And they were crawling in the walkways, on the benches, you could feed them leaves, it was so fun. I was like a little kid at the petting zoo. There was one particularly friendly one that crawled into my lap and up the front of me when I sat next to it. This attracted the attention of about 20 people and before I knew it people were gathered around taking pictures of me with this iguana in my lap. I was laughing and didn't quite know how to get it off of me before it crawled onto my head and then a guy came to my rescue by luring it off of my lap with food. That iguana was about 4 feet long, it wasn't a little thing. I have got to return to that park.
We took the bus home. We stood for a long time wondering which crazy bus to take and observed the street vendors, and the stores full of junk that make you sick to look at because why on earth would you spend your money on that crap and how on earth do they make a living doing it, and breathed in the ever polluted air and plugged our ears occasionally when traffic would back up in all directions and a honking fest would begin. We first got on the wrong bus and ended up wasting 25 cents as we got off at the next block. The next one was the correct one and we were surprised when we saw both the University of Guayaquil and a hospital that looked like the most run down buildings you could imagine in the U.S. Well, maybe not that extreme. But still. As we rode the crazy bus I started laughing and told Becky that if we want to go to Quito we'll have the wonderful opportunity of sitting on a bus like that for 8 hours.
We made it home and breathed a sigh of relief when we got off and were on our familiar street. We walked home, thankful to live where we do. A little bit off of the main road with less pollution and much much less noise. Our quiet street void of beggars and dirty stores and honking cars with lots of locks and gates seemed quite a bit better after seeing what it would be like to live anywhere else in the city.
It's kind of weird, I have to distance myself from all that I see out there. All the poverty and unhappy people, it makes me so sad to think of these people born into this community and living and dying in it. All their life sitting in a hot store selling junk, or pushing a cart full of soda to sell on the humid, crowded, polluted, and dirty streets of Guayaquil. Or the poor children in the park selling their gum or mints. Or the indigenous Quechua speaking women with their children, all looking dirty and worn out from life. I can't dwell on it because I've grown up with this idea of charity and been taught my whole life to have charity towards others. I feel like I should do something, but I can't help the masses. And since I can't help them I can't let them get to me. I just have to put up a shield. And then I feel like a heartless person. But I would go crazy if I thought too much about what life is like for each one of those people I saw today. It's too dark.
I thought about this city a lot today as I walked through the beautiful gated tourist district. I turned to Becky and asked, "Can you imagine if all of Guayaquil were like this?" I mean they live on the equator for goodness sake, they can grow beautiful things. They could make their city beautiful. All they need is reconstructed buildings with solid foundations and roofs and walls, a better trash system, purified water to drink, a better traffic system, job discrimination laws, job opportunities period, a non-dictator president with a less corrupted government who doesn't bribe and pocket money, available public education, and morals. Although I believe morals are largely a result of good work and education. Yep, that's all. Just a complete over haul of the city. But they did a rather good job of the tourist district, one step at a time I guess.

Culture Shock?


September 17, 2008


I believe the initial excitement of arriving to Ecuador has worn off. I think I am now going through a bit of culture shock. I have been kind of down today, wondering what on earth I am doing here in Ecuador. A place where the water from your faucet smells like lake. Who needs a vacation anyway? It's like you're playing in the lake every time you take a shower. And a place where you walk the streets and breathe in the fresh smell of bus. No emission tests here. And a place where women and children are nowhere to be seen. I really do think they just stay inside all day. We hardly ever see them out and about if they're not in the business district going or coming from work. And a place where you walk outside of the locked gate to your apartment and see a man with a pistol tucked in the back of his pants. A place where they don't know the definition of driving in straight lines, and don't obey stop signs or lights. And they honk to signal and you better get out of the way because they're coming over whether you are there or not. A place where you would never dream of walking barefoot because of the trash and glass and sewage smelling water on the side of the road. A place where you live in a cage because there are metal guards on all of your windows and doors. A place where your drinking water tastes a bit like plastic. A place where every single person, without fail, tells you to be careful and not carry anything of value when you are outside. So you carry at most, $5 with you and if for some reason you have more, you tuck it inside your shirt, and if you dare take your camera, you tuck it inside your pants and only take it out when you are hidden by a bush.
Really it's not as bad as all of that. And many of those things have been kind of humorous. Although seeing the pistol today was kind of shocking. But really, we had an entire family from downstairs come over to visit us last night. They were very kind and we've now had 10 people go out of their way to visit us and offer their assistance with anything we need. We've met some wonderful people and I really enjoy being with the members my age around here. They have such a light about them. I've never seen anything like it, I swear they glow. I think I'm just very overwhelmed at the fact that I have to teach in Spanish next week and I don't know how I'm going to manage. I hate when people talk to me and I don't understand them because they have such a huge accent or talk really really fast. It's weird how some people here speak at a normal pace and speak very clearly, enunciating beautifully. Others I swear cut off half of every word they say. It's also weird that we can't go outside at night. Tomorrow we are going to go to Malecon, the tourist district. That should make things better, I feel a little confined just walking between home and work each day. We went on a walk today but there wasn't much to see. This is such a strange city. We couldn't find any markets or stores or anything. Just businesses and a few grocery stores. I bet we'll find more of what we're looking for when we get out of this part of town. Although then we run the risk of being outside of the little circle Andres outlined on the map he bought us, the circle that tells us where it's safe for us to walk alone. It's a rather small circle.
Well anyway, I'm sure I'll feel better. It's not really bad or anything. I love to travel and I still like being here. I know I'm supposed to be here. And I also know that it takes about 2 weeks to get adjusted to local accents and get in Spanish mode. I know I will feel much better as we travel to different stakes to teach and get outside of our little walking radius, and when we travel on the weekends and see more of the country. So, no worries. I was just feeling a bit weird today.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

A New Constitution

September 16, 2008

On September 28, 2008 there will be a vote to approve the new Constitution of 2008 for Ecuador. Since 1841 there have been 21 new constitutions, the most recent in 1998. This particular constitution, created by the hand of President Correa not only approves gay marriage and abortion, but there's also a sort of bad law of consecration. Let me explain. If you have 2 houses for example, the government would be able to take one, not give any retribution for it, and supposedly give it to the poor. Whether the government actually follows through with that promise is another story. Even if they did, it still wouldn't be right to just take someone's house and not pay them for it. On top of these 3 major changes, 2 people that Becky and I talked with today, Hermana Melendez y Mario who lives below us have told us that the constitution is really just a copy of Venezuela's. Apparently Presidente Correa is in cohorts with the FARR (Columbian drug traffickers), and also Chavez, and naturally is very against the United States.
All over this part of Guayaquil there are signs that say "Guayaquil dice no" (Guayaquil says no), so there is apparently a lot of opposition to this constitution. And yet, I don't think it will matter in the end. The Government only needs 1/3 of the vote to pass it, and Correa has a lot of control over the different branches, they do have legislative and electoral branch but, he controls it. He's pretty much almost a dictator already. And if the Constitution passes he really will be one. I saw some political propaganda today in the newspaper from the government. It's an entire separate section in the newspaper devoted to convincing the general population that the Constitution will save Ecuador and Correa will be their deliverer. But, it's created in comic book form. The entire thing is one big political comic book. It's incredible. And pretty graphic at times as far as violence goes. I didn't have a chance to read it, I skimmed over it, it's really long but it seemed to be saying that Correa wants to decentralize the government, take away some of the power of the military and give it back to the people. He has a lot of socialistic ideas that most likely won't turn out very well.
As we talked with the family that lives below us they told us that any time there is a problem with the president there is major inflation. Becky and I have noticed the high prices just going grocery shopping. We were really surprised because we expected to come to South America and live for $2 a day. In reality the food at the grocery store is just as expensive and may times, more expensive than back home. Mario, the father of the family who visited with us tonight, said that they are paying $1,000 more each month to live than they did last year. That's huge. $12,000 more to live this year than in 2007. How do people do it? I suppose they just don't, which is probably why everyone at the employment center talks about the south side of Guayaquil as if it's another world. I'm interested to see what it's like down there. I have a feeling I'm going to see poverty at it's worst. Already I've seen some beggars that look so much more poor and worse off than the homeless people I see in the United States. These people make me want to cry every time I cross the bridge where they sit with their children in their laps and their hands outstretched, or the old lady who opens her mouth, showing her remaining 3 teeth and stares you down as you pass by. And then I wonder what on earth I'm supposed to do. I can't give everyone my money. And I suppose I am doing my part, I'm here as a volunteer teaching people how to better their temporal lives which in turn will help improve their spiritual lives also. But still, I can't help but wonder what on earth Jesus would do in this situation. He wouldn't pass by these people and ignore them. So do I just look at them sorrowfully and wish I could impart of my substance to each one of them? Do I just pass by and wish I could hold their children and offer some sort of comfort? It tears at my conscience each time I cross this bridge down the street. There are the socially accepted customs of passing by homeless people and ignoring them. You pretend not to notice, because it would be rude to stare and insensitive to acknowledge them but then do nothing to help. There's also the whole safety issue, who knows what these people would do to get your money, blah blah blah. And the whole "it's their own fault they're in this situation" theories. And although in the U.S. maybe one could get away with saying that, I would never look at these Ecuadorians and think "oh, it's their own fault they are poor and their children are dirty, and their clothes ragged, and have lost all light in their eyes". I also don't think it's right to say that in the U.S. because we all have faults and have brought things upon ourselves, just some people have ended up with more public consequences. If it was in fact their fault in the first place. Even so, who are we to say those things?
So, after a slight tangent, I am back to the original question. What would Jesus do if he crossed that bridge? And what on earth am I supposed to do?

Riding the Bus


Sept. 15, 2008


This evening. Becky and I were on our way home from the pool after swimming with our hermana grandmothers. We took a bus down the street, closer to our house. This bus ride was quite the adventure. In fact, it was absolutely crazy. Let me explain a typical bus ride in Guayaquil. The buses drive with the door open and you are lucky to get both feet in the door before they start driving. You are also lucky if they even come to a complete stop, time and time again I saw people get on while it came to an almost stop, and more people getting off while it came to even less of an almost stop. And people stand in the doorway while the bus is driving. The open doorway, mind you. And all the while the bus driver is telling everyone, "hurry up, hurry up". So, you get on, immediately grab onto a metal bar while paying 25 cents, and try your best to avoid being the last one in line so you have less of a chance getting thrown backwards and out the open door. But you're not safe yet. Because now all the seats are full and you are carrying bags from the grocery store. And when I say you, I mean I. So, the bus lurches violently and you stumble and grab onto a bar, while accidentally knocking some poor lady in the head with the bags that are hanging from your wrist, but you don't have time to think to say sorry or even realize it's happened until it's too late because you are clinging for dear life and trying to move forward. All around you cars are driving and honking every 10 seconds, signaling to others that they need to get a move on and they're not starting up fast enough for their liking. So now, you're crammed into the aisle, standing up, getting lurched around, and watching your reflection in the window to make sure no one slips a hand into your backpack. Then a bus is next to you and you're making a turn right next to each other. The buses come within an inch of each other and you really think they're going to hit. You hope they don't, because if you don't get thrown through the open door or the open windows, you will for sure hit your head on something metal, since there isn't one part of the bus that is made of something different. By some miracle you are saved from all 3 of these unattractive options and the buses don't collide. By now you can't help but laugh because you are in a crazy country where everyone honks, steals, and stares at you because you are a young woman from the United States. And you love it all. And even though your wrist hurts, and your broken finger hurts from clinging for dear life, and you've now hit that same poor lady a few more times, this time with your backpack as you get thrown around, you still smile and think of all the things you could write about this experience. And then finally, a seat opens. And you sit down with relief. And then you get off and you are sent on your way, with a banana in hand, compliments of the hermanas. They tell which options you have to take a bus down the street. But it's only 6:30 and even though it's dark, there are lots of people about so you want to walk instead of paying 25 cents more for a bus ride. Because you and your companion are cheap. So you walk. And while walking you push your companion to the side because there is a huge gaping square hole in the street in front of you. And you both almost walk right into it, where you would fall into a deep dark abyss of who knows what. You laugh some more because you really did almost step into it. It's not until later that you wonder what on earth cars driving in the street do. How do they miss it? And then you laugh some more because you still can't believe there was a huge gaping hole in the street that wasn't marked off. And then you stop dead in the middle of the street because there is a cockroach crawling on the curb in front of you. You almost hyperventilate. But you don't. It goes away and you start walking again. And silently give thanks that you have miniature ants in your apartment instead of roaches. Then you go through the 2 bolted gates and 2 locks on your front door to enter your house. Then you lock them all again. Then within 5 minutes the phone is ringing. It's the hermanas. They have been worrying about you and want to make sure you arrived safely. You assure them you did, and there weren't any problems. You hang up and smile at their concern. Then you start dinner which will actually be postponed for 2 hours because Latinos like to talk.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Gadianton Robbers








Sunday September 14, 2008

The hermanas came by for us at 8:30 as promised. We walked to the bus stop and then hopped on for a short ride to the chapel. It costs 25 cents to board the bus. From a distance last night the buses looked like any other bus I've seen. Up close though, I saw that they have got to be at least 20 years old, they are very old looking with lots of metal. Everything you sit on is metal, no plastic seats here. Once again I prayed that I would arrive safely to my destination. In all honesty though, I wasn't that worried at all. It was part of the South American experience. Any time I notice significant differences here, I just smile and figure it's part of the South American experience.
It's kind of ironic that I was looking so forward to church in Spanish because Sacrament was actually mostly in English today. We had visitors. Their chapel is the stake center and is absolutely beautiful, the most beautiful chapel I've ever been in. And they had an amazing tropical flower arrangement up at the podium. The chapel has some strong air conditioning which I thought felt normal but everyone else afterwards said they were so cold and in the succeeding classes everyone opened the windows to let the warm air in. It was kind of humorous. Also, the chapel has a drinking fountain with filtered and treated water. Yay for the church providing good drinking water! Oh, so the visitors were Sister Mary Cook who is in the Young Women General Presidency, Sister Vicki Matzamuki from the Primary General Presidency, and Elder Cook of the 1st Quorum of the Seventy. Also, Benjamin de Oro of the Seventy for the South American region was there. Apparently that have been in the area, traveling around South America for the past 9 days doing training. So, they spoke in Sacrament with a translator repeating everything they said in Spanish. So those of us who could understand both languages heard each talk twice. :) It was pretty crazy to have so many leaders ending up in the same ward as us. Hermao Oro spoke last, since he is a native he gave his talk in Spanish and I enjoyed it the most actually. He spoke on the Sacrament and the covenants we make with God and how we can best show our devotion to our Heavenly Father through service.
Well anyway, the rest of church was very good as well. I think I've come to the nicest ward in the entire world. I have never received so many kind words, hugs, kisses, and welcomes in my life. I met so many people I can hardly keep them straight. One hermano came up to us after church and welcomed us and gave us his card saying he's a doctor and if we ever need anything to give him a call. This is actually rather convenient because Becky and I both have broken bones and she needs to get x-rays while she's here. We also met his son Andres, 26 years old, who offered to drive us over to the centro de empleo to show us where it is. So, we crammed into his little car with our 2 mother missionaries and he showed us the centro and then drove us home. People keep asking us where we live and we have to say we don't know because we arrived at 10 last night and haven't seen any of the city yet. When Andres found out we don't have a map of the city, he promised to bring us one first thing in the morning. Upon arriving in front of our house we got out at the same time as an hermana from the barrio. We have member neighbors! I don't remember her name but her daughter is in young women's and is named either Melissa or Michelle. I don't remember. Her son, we had met earlier and is name Humberto and is 25. She was quick to inform us that Humberto is going on a mission when he welcomed Becky with besos, back at church. She was very nice, and told us to feel free to come over any time and call if we ever need anything. Everyone was so willing to show us around and be there if we need anything that I feel very overwhelmed with all of their friendliness. We have 4 names and numbers of friends that we made at church, one of which actually served his mission with Becky in Chile.
At home we discovered a bug problem had appeared while we were at church. They are tiny little things that slightly resemble ants except much smaller and faster. I suppose that's better than being bigger. But they were crawling all over our kitchen counters and all over the packages of our food. Becky proceeded to bang each container on the counter to knock them off and I went behind her with a paper towel, squishing them all. We then put every piece of food in the fridge, including our box of cereal. We're going to go to the supermarket tomorrow and search for some type of bug spray because the problem is pretty bad. It's weird that there was nothing there this morning when we ate breakfast.
But, that's the only negative thing that has happened thus far. And it's not even that big of a deal and would certainly be much less of a big deal if I didn't have this phobia of ants being inside my house.
Well anyway, Guayaquil in the daylight is awesome. We really do live in the nice part of town. It's weird ho some people drive brand new SUV's and cars and others drive really stinkin' old tiny cars that you typically see on TV when South America is depicted. There's a huge gap between people's economic wellbeing apparently. Oh, that reminds me, in Gospel Doctrine, we were talking about the Gadianton Robbers and about the situation of the Lamanites and Nephites in Helaman 6 and 7. Gabriela, the teacher, asked for examples of Gadianton Robbers of our day, here in Guayaquil. The answers of drugs, alcohol, and lots and lots of robbers was given. And then someone said the Government, and everyone agreed as if this was nothing new. Becky and I looked at each other and found that comment to be very interesting. The U.S. government has it's corruptions and annoying politicians, but I would never in my life compare it as an equal to the Gadianton Robbers. Interesting how different that is here.
So, Guayaquil looks like a really fun place, I'm excited to see more of it and travel. I absolutely love the trees around here, there are lots of palm trees and all the other trees have flowers on them! The ones right outside our windows have large orange tropical flowers and I love it. It's warm and humid here but I think it feels wonderful. We'll see if I still feel that way in December when we're in the middle of Summer.
Becky y yo caminamos por las calles después de una siesta. Johnny nos dijo anoche que vivimos 5 cuadras del templo entonces queríamos caminar hasta el templo para verlo. Habíamos caminado por unos minutos cuando vimos la aguja con Moroni. Entonces caminamos en ese dirección hasta vimos el templo encima la colina. Esta en una buena parte de la ciudad. Pero es un poco extraño, porque hay personas muy ricas cerca del templo pero en la misma calle hay personas muy pobres, viviendo en edificios que no están completamente construidos. Había una familia que vive en un edificio sin ventanas, solo tiene grandes espacios en vez de ventanas y algunas partes no tienen paredes ni techos. Hay una mezcla de pobres entre los ricos. También, es diferente que hay guardias para las casas en esta parte. Se sientan en sillas en cada esquina, algunas son profesionales con armas, y otros no.
Hay muchas flores aquí, y saque muchas fotos, quiero tener una colección de fotos de las flores de Ecuador. A mi me encanta Ecuador, estoy emocionada para aprender y observar mucho mas durante los 3 meses próximos.
Translation of last paragraph for reader convenience: After a nap, Becky and I went for awalk. Johnny had told us last night that we live about 5 blocks from the temple so we wanted to walk to it. We had only walked a few minutes when we saw the steeple with Moroni. We walked in that dirrection, following the steeple until we saw the temple sitting on top of a hill. It's in a good part of the city but it's kind of strange because there are really rich people near the temploe, but on the same street there are very poor people, living in unfinished buildings. There was one family living in a partly constructed building without windows, it just had large spaces where the windows should have been. (Pictured on the left)Some parts didn't have a wall or a roof. There's a huge mixture of the poor among the rich. It's also interesting to see guards in front of certain houses. They sit in seats or guard shacks at each corner, some are professional with guns, and others seem to just sit there just to have a presence of a guard being there.
There are lots of flowers here, I took a lot of pictures of them, I want to have a collection of pictures of the flora of Ecuador. I love Ecuador so far, I'm excited for the next 3 months to observe and learn more.