The Picchu

After a total of three hours sleep the two previous nights, three airport runs, and demasiado tearful goodbyes in Duran, I hopped a plane to Peru on Saturday morning, August 13th. Little layover in Lima, then got into Cusco around 5pm, thrilled as hell to see Chris Peterson's ugly ass waiting for me outside the airport. I think his first words were "Brother! You look like shit!" The lack of sleep, emotional drain of the goodbyes, and going from a sea level equatorial climate to the top of the damn Andes threw my body for a loop, to say the least. My body still isn't used to sub 80 degree temperatures, but those first two days in Cusco were the worst--no matter what I did, I literally could not get warm.

All good though... that's why they make mate de coca, right? We went out to dinner that first night and I got after a big plate of lomo saltado and washed it down with a nice warm cup of coca leaf tea. We went to bed early so I could catch up on some sleep, then we hit the hiking first thing Sunday morning (with more mate de coca for breakfast, claro). Chris had booked us on a four day trek to Machu Picchu starting Tuesday morning, so we wanted to get me acclimated to the altitude as soon as possible. He took me up to a few vista points above Cusco and we checked out a couple ruins and old Incan caves. Amazing stuff, but I felt like the fat kid in gym class huffin and puffin the whole way, asking Coach Peterson for water breaks every 20 minutes.

click here to see pics from the Cusco 
ruins and stove building in Pachar

Sunday night we bussed to Urubamba, a little town in the Sacred Valley a couple hours from Cusco. We woke up early Monday and spent the morning building stoves in the community of Pachar, just outside of Urubamba, with ProPeru, the volunteer program Chris is working with. After my year in Ecuador, it was really cool to see another volunteer program and the different work they were doing in Peru. The community was incredibly grateful (both the families we built stoves for fed us delicious lunches), and you could tell that the stoves were really going to be a positive thing for the communities. Click here for more info about the Pro Peru Stoves Project.

We headed back to Cusco Monday afternoon, ran into a little parade (pics in the album above), then got to bed early for another early morning Tuesday. Our 4 day Machu Picchu trek started right away with a 6am pickup, breakfast, then van ride up to the Abra de Malaga Pass, at 4,350 meters above sea level. From there, we started a 3 and a half hour bike ride, during which we literally went from the snowline at the top of the Andes to tropical jungle at 1,430 meters above sea level. Needless to say, we had to stop halfway to strip some layers.

click here to see pics from days 3,4,5 
on the road to Machu Picchu... 
biking, rafting, hiking, zip-lining

After the bike ride, we lunched, had a little nap, then did some white water rafting on the Rio Urubamba. We stayed in Santa Maria Tuesday night, then Wednesday morning were up at 6am again to start the hike to Santa Teresa. Stopped by a coca plantation--they assured us that the leaves were for tea, not la cocaina--hiked up to some old Inca trails high in the mountains (see pics in the album to the left), then back down to the river, ending the day relaxing in the natural hot baths of Santa Teresa (yes, the speedo made an appearance, but sorry, no pictures). After the biking and rafting the day before, then hiking all day Wednesday, the hot baths were aaaaaamazing. Cold beer, hot baths, call it a day.

Thursday morning we went zip-lining (pics & video above), then continued the trek to Machu Picchu. We followed the Urubamba River from Santa Teresa to Aguas Calientes, where we spent our last night before the Picchu. We left the hostel at 4am Friday morning and hiked something like 1,850 steps up to the entrance of Machu Picchu. Sure we could have taken the bus, but where's the fun in that? We crushed the hour hike in just over 30 mins, and promptly changed our shirts when we got to the top (our guide warned us we would sweat our asses off).

The gates opened at 6am, and Chris and I were in the first group let in (we would have been THE first if it weren't for a group of over-motivated Germans who were just ahead of us on the hike). We had about half an hour to cruise around the ruins before sunrise, which was absolutely beautiful. I'll never forget standing above those ruins in that crisp mountain air with no one else around (after the first hour or so, the ruins just got packed with turistas). We also hiked up Wayna Picchu, the mountain you always see in the background of Machu Picchu, which had some amazing views looking back on the ruins of Machu Picchu. The pictures (link below) should speak for themselves, but looking at them now, it's impossible to capture that feeling of being at the top of these mountains, immersed in this incredible display of human history, and surrounded by just sheer natural beauty. One of the many humbling experiences this year.

pics from The Lost City

no te vaaaaaaaaaaayas, tu eres cheeeeevere

The end is near my friends... just had our despedidas this weekend, new volunteers get in tonight, my last day at Mundo is Thursday, I leave for Peru Saturday, then on August 23rd, American Airlines flight 1455 takes me home to SFO. The past couple months have flown by... still can't believe I'll be in San Francisco in less than a month.

Lots of mixed emotions to say the least. Right now, here, in Ecuador, starting to say my goodbyes, I feel like shit. There's a lot of people I'm going to miss, and that's gonna be a tough pill to swallow these next two weeks. When I think about it, though, I am excited to come home and catch up with all the family and friends I've missed this past year.

I think back to saying goodbye to family and friends this time last year; and that, too, was sad, scary, and very emotional. Sure, things would change over the course of this year, but ultimately, I knew I would be back in San Francisco come August 2011. This time around, though, as I'm saying these goodbyes, I know I'm not coming back. Yes, I will visit--I hope to be back to Ecuador within the next year, and as frequently as possible after that; but I will never live here again--in this community, with these people, sharing every laugh, tear, conversation, good day, bad day, hotter than F, sweaty, normal day.

There's so much that I'm gonna miss about living here. I'm going to miss my friends--miss those experiences we've shared this year, as well as those experiences we won't get to share next year or the year after. I'm going to miss the students I taught this year--seeing them every day, talking to them, laughing with them, playing soccer with them in my slacks and dress shoes, joking with them about who they are and aren't dating, and sometimes just wanting to wanting to tell them to shut the fffront door. I'm going to miss my neighborhood--living on a street where the kids are always out playing and the madres are always inviting me in to eat. I'm going to miss playing soccer with the kids, the hugs and vueltas, high fives and fist bumps, calling each other locos, feos, vagos. I'm going to miss the conversations with neighbors, friends--deep shit about life, family, love, justice, politics, everyday struggles. I'm gonna miss shooting the shit with the guys--playing cards and dominos late into the night, talking shit, calling each other nicknames, telling dirty jokes, and learning every possible word that might in some way have a genital connotation.

I could go on for days (especially about the genitals). There's just so many people and experiences I'm gonna miss here. Deep down, though, I know it's time to go. Kinda like that "enlightened" freshman year of college, I can never go back and do it again--have it all be new. That's the way things go. So for these last few months, I've been trying to live it up as much as possible (hence the lack of blogologue). So many memories I wish I could share. I have a bunch of pictures I promise to put up soon, but for now, here's some highlights from the past couple months:

• Remember Horatio?? He had a good run, but the REAL nickname that has stuck all year is Menendez. Ask me a year ago what I think of when I hear Menendez, and I'll tell you those creeps Lyle and Erik who offed their parents back in the early 90's. Down here, though, Menendez is the blonde haired, blue eyed Argentinian superstar who plays for Guayaquil's pro soccer team, Emelec. My neighbors Don Walter and Don Sergio made Emelec fans out of me early on, so as soon as I got a jersey, everyone started calling me Menendez. Literally Everybody. Anytime I wear the jersey--and sometimes when I'm not wearing the jersey and I'm just being white, blonde, and ridiculously good looking--people will just yell at me: Menendez!!

MENENDEZ!!

While we're on the topic of Emelec (which, by the way is an acronym for the Empresa Electrica del Ecuador, or Ecuadorian Electric Co.), way before Cristian Menendez was the famous white boy on the team, America's favorite ginger-defender, Alexi Lalas played for Emelec for about a month back in '97. Funny thing, though, apparently all anyone here remembers about him is that he was big into the cocaina...

• All night Mother's Day parties... So aparently the Ecuadorian way of showing mothers the infinite gratitude they deserve is to wake them up with serenades on Mother's Day Eve... either with your own voice, with a paid gentleman singer, or with a rented sound system, some salsa CDs, and a microphone that the whole neighborhood can hear. Looooooooovely tradition. Minus the fact that I didn't get any sleep that night thanks to my good friend Edwin (20 something, no more than 5 feet tall, responds to Papi Pitufo, aka Papa Smurf) who apparently got hired to serenade all of South America from his soundsystem 3 blocks away. 

Gina didn't even know that she was in the presence
of an international soccer superstar...

• So my little sister Gina just graduates magna cum laude from Georgetown (no big deal, I'm not overly proud of her or anything), the whole damn world is at her fingertips, and where does she decide to go less than one week after graduating? Fuckin Ecuador to visit big brother. What a gal. After almost 11 months of choppy internet phone calls from the cyber cafe, finally getting to spend some real human time face to face with my flesh and blood was pretty awesome. I took her around AJS, Arbolito, Veintiocho, out to Nuevo Mundo, down to Guayaquil's touristy Malecón 2000, and up to the historic Las Peñas district of Guayaquil for a night on the town. Despite my best efforts with this blog, it's been really tough to put into words all the experiences I'm having here. There's a lot of "you had to be there," or "you had to see it," or "you had to know him/her" kind of stuff, so getting to share even just a few days of this with Gina was really special.

• What do you get when you put 10 teenage boys from well-to-do Cincinnati suburbs in a barrio in Ecuador with no running water, no meat, no cell phones, TVs, video games, iPods, facebook, etc? Lots of soccer, bilingual card games, unflushed shits, penis-carved soap bars, and of course, life changing experiences. One of the ways Rostro de Cristo gets its funding is by hosting high school and college retreat groups from the states. Between the 2 houses in Arbolito and AJS, we've had 26 groups this year; I led 2: Cabrini College in December, and St. Xavier High School in June. My role was part spiritual director, part tour guide, and part babysitter... it was a long week to say the least, but the guys were great, and I think they all got something out of it.

me, the St. X boys, and Oso

• Right after my retreat group, the Rostro de Cristo Board of Directors came down to visit and inaugurate our new retreat house in Mount Sinai. So what do you get when you put a bunch of middle aged white people in a barrio in Ecuador... juuust kidding. Nothing like the high school kids. All the Board members were super interesting people, all with incredible backgrounds in Latin America; so it was really cool show them what we do down here and talk to them about some of the higher level foundation decision making that goes on back home. Who knows where life's gonna take me, but I'd love to get involved in decisions like that someday.

• Did I mention I'm learning to tejer? That's right. Crocheting. Wellington has been teaching me how to make hammocks, and Pastora helped me make a little monedero last month. It's frustrating as all hell at first, but once you get the hang of it, it's really quite relaxing. And it's awesome when you finally have something to show for all your work.

• Saw Transformers with one of the kids from my neighborhood a couple weeks ago. 2 observations: 
1. While Optimus Prime is unstoppable no matter what tongue he speaks, the Spanish speaking Optimus Prime doesn't quite have the stage presence that his English speaking cousin does. 
2. Hanging out with a 12 year old boy with no filter is awesome no matter where you are. Hanging out with a 12 year old boy with no filter from Duran in a "1st world" movie complex/shopping mall is extra awesome. While we were waiting for the movie to start, we cruised the toystore, people watched, and judged the shit out of all the upper-middle class people walking around like their poo doesn't stink. Granted, I was very aware that I was inherently laughing at myself (this mall very easily could have been the San Francisco Shopping Centre, and these people could have easily been me and my friends), but it was still pretty ridiculous. Living in a neighborhood for a year where the average income is $2 a day really puts things in perspective when you walk around a toy store looking at $80 lego sets and $500 Playstations.

New volunteer orientation starts tomorrow morning, Peru with Chris F-ing Peterson the 13th-22nd, then back to the fog (oh how I miss thee) August 23rd. Unless we have another coup or something monumental like that, I can pretty much guarantee this will be my last blog from Ecuador. If you play your cards right, maybe I'll get it together to do one last blog when I get home; but for now, I'm signing off. Thanks for reading. It's been a hell of a year. Hope to see everyone when I get home.

If you've made it this long, I thank you for your commitment. I reward you with one spanish translation: no te vayas = don't leave! ugh... hurts everytime I hear it.

El Invierno! Spanish for The Invierno!

Allright I'm not gonna beat around the bush here. It's been a while. I feel awkward. You feel awkward. We used to be so close, and now look at us. Here I was, blogging regularly about what I'm doing down here, sharing my thoughts, emotions, struggles, triumphs, etc., and then 4 months passes and all you've heard from me is that I've got a mean side part goin on and the kids think I look like David Caruso.

Shit, for all I know, you've been reading someone else's blog the past 4 months. Who am I to assume you're even still intereted in me? I hope you still are, but I don't want to assume that I can pick right back up where we left off. How about we start with something light? Maybe the weather? See how things go, and then hopefully we can get back to the real stuff our relationship was built on... you know political upheaval, teaching English, and getting E.Coli (by the way just took my quarterly poo test and not only do I have giardia again, but I've also been blessed with both worms and fungi growing in my gut... not to worry though I'm getting treated and I feel fantastic).

So, yeah, a lot's happened in the past 4 months, but I'll keep it simple today and tell you about how much winter sucks down here. Not in the cold as F way it hits back in the states, but in the hot as F way it hits down here. I recently realized invierno (winter) is 2 letters away from inferno, which means hell, and I thought that would be a funny and witty thing to throw in my blog... then I realized that was kinda lame and not that funny... but here I am sharing that little titbit with you anyway. Sorry!

Anyway, as if it's not already hot as hell here, things just got exponentially nastier starting in Diciembre, coming to a hot sweaty climax in Febrero. Winter means higher temperatures and more rain, and more rain means more standing water, and more standing water means more mosquitos. So not only is it in the 90s and 100s every day (nights too... I don't think it even dropped below 80 on most nights), but now the mosquitos are out day and night, and even going inside doesn't really help cuz those bastards are everywhere. I think the entire month of Febrero my beautiful calves were tainted with bites, scratches, and scabs from scratching. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable.

On top of the sweaty weather and mosquitos, Guayaquil has this annual plague of grasshoppers that has got to be some of the weirdest biblical shit I've ever seen. Supposedly every winter once it starts raining, millions (maybe billions I really have no idea) of grasshoppers just appear out of no where and annoy the shit out of you for 3 weeks. They don't bite or sting, but there's literally so many of them that they just fly into you all the time and sneak into your house and eat your clothes. OK they didn't actually eat any of my clothes, but they're known to do that and they were in every corner of our house, so I moved all my clothes back into suitcases and kept that shit zipped up all the time. After a couple weeks of having dirty grasshopper sex and laying eggs for next winter, they all die off, and one day you realize "Oh, the grillos are gone." It's weird.

Don't get me wrong though, there was a lot of good stuff in the winter, too. And all that hot, sweaty, mosquito, grillo stuff really wasn't that bad, either. I just have to make it sound tough and exotic down here sometimes so you guys don't think I'm just sittin around sippin cervezas in my hammock (which does happen from time to time). I've been having an unbelievable time, and I can't believe it's already been 8 months.

One of the highlights of winter was playing in the rain with the kids in our neighborhood. Since it's so damn hot down here, it's not that weird to go outside in the middle of a tropical storm (I'm no weatherman and I don't see any news down here, but when it rains so hard that the streets flood six inches deep, I think it's safe to call it a tropical storm). There were a couple nights where it just dumped rain for multiple hours and we went outside to play with the kids in the middle of it all. Brought the waterproof camera to the last one, so I'll let you check out the pics. Needless to say it was a great time.

una tormenta tropical

That's all I've got for now, but I will be back in the cyber soon--I promise. Got some great pics from Carnaval, Nuevo Mundo, and Valdivia I've been meaning to show you. Hope all is well back home! Can you believe I'll be back in less than 5 months?? Wierd...

orientation, Orientation, and MORE ORIENTATION

After a NyQuil induced red-eye from San Francisco, I arrived in Boston the morning of Monday, July 19th. The program I'm volunteering with, Rostro de Cristo, partners with JVC International every year for a two week domestic orientation at Boston College before volunteers leave the country. So in addition to the 15 other volunteers I'll be with in Ecuador this year, I got to meet 33 JVC volunteers who will be living and working for 2 years in Peru, Belize, Tanzania, Micronesia, Nicaragua, and Chile. Leaving home and saying goodbyes was pretty heavy emotionally, so it was really comforting to meet a bunch of other people all going through the same thing. It was also nice to still be in the US for a couple weeks before completely leaving the country for a year--I think it made the transition from home to Ecuador a lot easier. Orientation was packed full of useful information--everything from health and safety in developing countries to workshops on teaching (which most of us will do at least in some capacity), to living in commuity (both JVC and Rostro de Cristo emphasize the importance of living in a commuity of fellow volunteers and supporting each other throughout the year) to workshops on social justice and spirituality.

We left for Ecuador the morning of Sunday, August 1st. After a 4 hour flight from Boston to Miami, a 5 hour layover in Miami, a 3 hour flight from Miami to Guayaquil, and over an hour in customs, we didn't get to bed until almost 2am on our first night in Ecuador. With only 5 days of overlap with last year's volunteers (Rostro brings in a completely new group of volunteers to Durán each year), we were up at 8am the next day, Monday, August 2nd to start our in country orientation. The first couple weeks here FLEW by, and I'm still trying to prcess it all, but here are a few highlights and first impressions of life Ecuador:

• surprise, surprise... it's HOT! Most days are in the high 80s this time of year, with nights in the 70s. Coming from San Francisco, this is at least 20 degrees warmer than what I'm used to. The funny thing is this is the coldest time of year in Ecuador, so all the Ecuadorians think it's freezing out. It will be in the low 70's at night and I'll be wearing shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt, and our Ecuadorian friends are wearing long pants and heavy jackets. Apparently the rainy season from late January - early May is the hottest time of year, when it's raining, humid, and temperatures average in the 100s every day. So I guess compared to THAT it's cold right now...

• there are animals EVERYWHERE--dogs, cats, chickens, and roosters are common pets, and some people have guinea pigs and/or ducks. There are also stray dogs and cats all over the place, and as I mentioned in my first blog they are FERTILE. Geckos frequently make it in the house, but they help take care of the mosquitos so we let them be. We haven't found any mice in our house, but the volunteers in the Arbolito house have already caught 4 over there. The dogs, cats, and roosters make noise at all hours of the day/night (I thought roosters only crowed at dawn, but aparently they like to cock-a-doodle-do ALL NIGHT LONG). This was pretty annoying at first, but I guess I'm used to it now because I don't really use my ear plugs anymore. Oh and last week there was a bull walking down the middle of the main road by my house. Completely alone, casually strolling down the road. No aparent owner, and I was the only one who thought anything of it because everyone else--cars, buses, bikes, people--just drove/walked around it like it was no big deal.

• They speak Spanish here! Weird, huh?? This is probably going to be the toughest part of my transition since I haven't taken a Spanish class in 10 years. The more I practice, though, the more it comes back to me. In addition to conversations with neighbors (which are pretty simple at this point--I can usually understand at least half of what they say), I'm trying to do at least 15 minutes a day of vocab or grammar practice on my own. Luckily there's a few volunteers with really good Spanish (including my housemate Celso who's a native speaker from the Dominican Republic!), and they've been great about helping when I don't understand things.

mmmmmmm!

Lots more differences--and similarities--with the US, but I don't want to write a book here. I'll end with one more quick dose of Ecuadorian reality: DON'T DRINK THE WATER! We don't have plumbing in Durán (aparently they put pipes in a few years ago, but they haven't started using them), so water trucks come around every few days to fill up our cistern. We use this water for showers, sinks, and toilets, NOT drinking. We get separate deliveries of drinking water (think Alhambra jugs), which we use for drinking, cooking, brushing our teeth, etc. I haven't gotten any yet, but apparently parasites are pretty common. It could come from eating food at a neighbor's place or a restaurant that cooks with the cistern water, or even just from the little bit of water that inevitably gets in your mouth when you shower. Nothing yet, but I'm keeping a close eye on my bowels, so I will keep you posted!