In Guayaquil, Full of Angst

Written Wednesday Night

Its the first time I've been under an air conditioner in months, and its the very end of December. I'm here in Guayaquil in Stefano's grandmother's house, on a fold out couch bed with my backpack next to me on the floor. There's 71% battery, I have stiff legs and a headache. Yesterday morning my mother and my sister left, cought a taxi to the airport, leaving me to lie in the still-paid-for hotel room watching three consecutive episodes of The Big Bang Theory and eating wafer cookies from christmas that had somehow already gone stale.

Hannah's parents took us all out to lunch and I had a chicken salad sandwhich because all I seem to want to do these days is eat various forms of chicken between types of breads. Usually, mayonase should be involved. Aracely came over and immedietley conked out for a two hour nap on my bed, only waking to ask if she could get under the covers.

I lay with the sweet centimeters below my knees in the sun and read Mary Karr's Lit, one of those books that pricks your consciousness, makes you think the way she does, see things with her crossed eyes. I can't wait for some dialogue to come up soon so that I can leave out quotation marks just as she does.

Its wonderful to have somone so smart and well spoken take up temporary residence in your skull, but it can get awkward when her values start sitting down on your own. Anecdote? Of course, so glad you asked.

Much of Karr's memoirs deal with her own and her family's struggles with alcoholism, and Lit is no exception. In The Lair's Club, pages and chapters are sobbed about her mother's heavy drinking coupled with knife-weilding mental illness, as well as her father's reclusive constant alcoholism. There's also aquaintence rape, bigamy, and cancer people get from oil wells. Not a cheerful set of essay prompts. So I read The Liar's Club and I thought, Well damn, my life is a piece of peach pie. She's bareley got a can of cool whip.

I was so stressed out from The Liar's Club, and just from seeing the cover of Viper Rum, her book of poetry, that I decided to skip her second memoir, Cherry and stick to the backs of cerael boxes for my reading. But for christmas in Baños, sitting on a hammock with my sister, my mom passed me Lit with its accolade-slobbered cover and those neat looking fake cuts down the front. There's a lot going on on the cover of that book, it took me a while to recognize Mary Karr, our lady of Perpetual Suffering/Southern Texas. What the heck, nightmares can make you stronger or hold Feudian clues to what's wrong with you.

It's a great book, once you start reading. Each chapter is as strong as an essay and very presentable or discussable, but the book hangs to gether as a story. Of course it does: Its her life. Her marriage and its failure, her child and his raising, her spiritual life and literary success. And her drinking and how she stopped.

So when a person who does have a drinking problem sneaks into your head, a 20 year old having a beer with dinner, and she starts muttering and throwing down adverbs that you haven't heard in months, due mostly having your main conversation partner being a hispanohablante dentist who prefers to watch TV, its easy to get distracted from outside and fold yourself into your ears ad fall into the anxiety hole. And no matter if you're on vacation, no matter if there's eggplant lasagna coming, no matter if you're with your friend you haven't seen for a while, no matter if you've been taking your medicine more constant than you check your facebook, Mary Karr can talk really, really loud.

You're drunk she says. You're drunk and your making a fool of yourself.

I'm not drunk I say. I'm tired. Did you spent 4 hours today in the Quito airport? I think not. I bet you were eating fondue in Maine or something. Or spelling every word correctly. Or praying. Whatever, something cool.

You are a fool, an Immature fool. She says. You should stick to your own language and begin attending self help groups immedietley.

Could you shut up, Mary? I ask as my lasagna arrives. Stefano is approximately 1/2 through his small beer and i judge myself to be at 5/8. Oh shoot, she's right. Out drinking a boy who'se been at college? This could be a bad sign. Or maybe I just have a bigger mouth-capacity than he does. How would that be calculated? Would it make my face look fatter?

Look at this anxiety Says Mary, her hair perfectly stright, bangs that will never happen for me. Why aren't your working on this? You should be in meetings every night!

But I haven't done anything wrong! I jab my fork into my food, which turns out to be at least two thirds cheese. Should I feel guilty for eating such a large amount of cheese? Should I quit while I'm ahead and just give up all dairy, or should I eat this hulk of mozerella, get gas, feel fat, and then learn my lesson later to never ask for lasagna in Ecuador?

Mary doesn't know, and I don't either. But I know that beer, cheese, and fear are a filling but bad-tasting dinner.

She moves, oh she moves (who remembers that little kid singing that song it was so hilarious)

No blog entry for a week, tisk tisk. But it´s not like I´ve just been lying on my back listening to Phoenix or reading Stranger articles about this huge cocaine contamination problem in the eastern United States. I´ve been damn busy, what with my family coming, worring about the Reina del Camino accident, reading Mary Karr, hugging mom and sister, watching celeste get odd looks for her blue hair, eating excellent food and lots of other stuff. I´m just putting my facebook stati up here from the last week because I´m not filled with ganas to write. But I´m off to Guayaquil soon (1 hr) so maybe there there will be time for fun writing, helpful writing, SIP planning writing, that sort of stuff

accidentally was on the ecuator at noon on the winter solstice with Ellen Iscoe andCeleste Here'stoyouMrs Robinson . That´s cosmic, yo

LOTS OF STUFF HAS HAPPENED: Baños, bike rides, a salad shaped like a volcano, almost getting secuestered expressed, seeing Hannah, seeing Pilar, seeing 150 Salazars I never met before, excellent cebiche, horrible hot chocolate, run away attempts, too much Trole, love from my family, Dr. Bronners and happy holidays

"""""""""""

"After months of placing it accidentally," she said, "I have finally realized the location of the quotation mark on the Ecuadorian keyboard."

"Oh, yes indeed. Instead of using the ümlat sign placed ¨awkwardly¨around phrases and sometime ïnterfearing¨when words start with vowels, I can instead press ´Shift´and then ´2,´" she crowed.

"And how did you encounter this epiphany?" asked the lady waxing the floors.

"As all brilliant scientists do, by accident! Looking to form the ´at´symbol, I pressed simple Shift instead of the mysterious ´Alt G.´Of course, when I pressed 2, no @ came out, rather the glorious and long saught-after "! What glory! Praises be!"

She muttered herself to sleep.

And Just One More

To celebrate the end of school, its time for one more session of precious spanish class memories.

Sample sentances showing our brilliance in Spanish

I fell in love with that girl because she has a car

You look grated

We had some heavy use of a word meaning "dead body":

You look like a dead person because you are skinny

I got happy because I don't have to see a dead person

It's going to be great when the dead person in my mom

To sleep means to shut your eyes and dream of someone sexy

I became poor after I hunted my life

Michael Jackson turned himself into a ghost

When I arrived in Ecuador, I turned into a drunken woman (said by a man)

While in the forest, they stumbled upon, accidentally, some people from the FARC

Finally, I found a naked bar!

And my personal favorite:

The situation turned serious after the pregnancy test turned red

Because I've been such a bad blogger, I thought I'd play catch up a little and go over some fun/cool/important stuff that has happened since I last updated about my scintillating life. Surprise surpirse, I'm going to make a list, because I am very bad at transititon sentances.

December 2. Went to a poetry reading with Ecuamadre. It was very beautiful, excellent poets from Ecuador, Peru and Colombia. I was proud I could understand everything. Favorite line: "Escribir cambia equilibrio/ dame con mi ultima respiro balance" "Writing changes eqilibrium/ give me, with my last breath, balance." Of course, I tried to write brilliant poetry in Spanish, and of course, it didn't turn out very well. Not like STEFANO here, who wins prizes in his second language. But then I wrote about that, and it turned out ok:

Agredecido

Sometimes

I forget Spanish is beautiful

But when I listen to the consenants

sound out slowly

I can remember

I tell myself

Interpret the night

not as a metaphor

between your slippery

poet paws

Follow the sine wave

with the grip of logic

some day, you'll find your zero

I promise myself

I will trust my fingers

I will memorize my face.

So yeah, that doesn't really come togehter right, but its soemting. Its the first non-essay non-journal non-rap I've written in a few months, so that feels nice.

December 3-5- Fiestas de Quito! This was so fun! There were lots of things I didn't go to, but I'm happy with what I did. I didn't go to a bull fight because Ecuamadre is really against them, and learning more, it does sound pretty gorey and inhumane. They kill the bull really slowly and agonizingly, and I just don't want to be a part of that. Even eating meat here is getting to me. However on the positive side, I did go to the El Disfile de Fraternidad which means The Brotherhood Parade. It was held on Ave Shyris, a huge street at the bottom of Parque Carolina, where the citizens march when (not if) they want to overthrow the government. The parade was huge, probably three or more hours long. People were packed along the street. I was with Aracely, and she bought a tiny stool one of the many stool-vendors was selling so that she could see. There were lots of different dance troupes ranging from special-ed schools to dozens of indigenous cultral groups to giant puppets dancing with each other. At least 15 high school and college marching bands, all heavily featuring cheerleaders in unbelievably short skirts and many xylophone players.

I almost got my camera stolen for like the fourth time- It was in Aracely's pocket, a lady started reaching in. Cely started yelling at her in Spanish, and the lady got all mad that we had caught her. What? We were sort of spooked, so we went into a Pollo Campero, which is very different than in the States. There are only maybe five menu items and it is very expensive. Its not fast food at all really, its like a place your parents take you out to dinner.

After that, we went home and took a nap so that we could go to Ferria Quitumbe. Quitumbe is at the very far south of the city, about an hour and a half by trole. Cely, Melba and I went and the trole was PACKED. Luckily, we hadn't brought anything of value to get stolen, but it was still nuts. Eventually we got to Quitumbe which had been turned into a giant fairground. We wandered around for an hour or so, looking for food, people watching, and enjoying the rarness of being outside at night. I ate cebiche from a food stall and I didn't get diarreah or food poisioning or throw up or even feel sick which is a huge accomplishment. And i can drink the tap water now too!

Anyway, we were waiting around for our favorite band, Calle 13 to come on, but the current band played these horrible Disney-esque songs, so we wandered around, looking at crafts, people playing, just enjoying being in a new place. By 10, Called 13 was playing and it was PACKED. I am not kidding. There were at least 5.000 people there, maybe 10.000. Lots. The show itsef was amazng even if we had to depend on the Jumbo TV Screen things and Cely wished she still had her stool. I've only started listening to Calle 13 here through ñaño, but they really are amazing, very powerful and positive music and a very powerful show. The main guy, the rapper was like "I want all the guys here to give themselves a round of applause, and to respect women and themselves. I want all the women here to give them selves a round of applause, to remember to stick up for yourselves, to never let any one push them around. I want all the homosexuals, the bisexuals, the transexuals, the people who don't even know what they are to give themselves a round of applause because you are fighitng a good fight, to know your self, and to stay strong against society." That's pretty sharp contrast from a country that was iffy about showing Modern Family because there are gay guys in it.

So that was amazing, and then at midnight it was Aracely's birthday. The show was over by 1, and we were thinking of taking a taxi back north, but knew it would cost like 20$. Luckily, the trole was packed and seemed safe, so we spend 50 cents each instead. The trole was packed again, but everyone was jazzed from the show and friendly and cheerful. We went straight to south station and instead of stopping at the stops every kilometer or so, the driver would just ask if anyone wanted to stop there. The stations themselves were closed, so he just opened the doors the the curb, and people jumped out at will. It was one of those times were everyone is working together, feeling united and laughing. We kept yelling "Que vive Quito! Qui vive Calle 13! Que vive el Trole!" and stuff like that. I told a group of high schoolers that it was my friends birthday, and the whole bus sang to Aracely as we shot through Quito at 2 am.

Eventually, we clambered off the bus and fell asleeeeeep. Que Vive Fiestas de Quito!

Domingo 12 de Deciembre- Went to Ibarra with Sarvie, IGGY, Ecuamadre and another exchange student and his mom. That was fun, we went to a lot of the places we went in Otavalo. Additionally, we also took the Ecuador naked picture for the SusHouse 2011 calender! If you don't know what I am talking about, just ignore that last sentance. If you do know what I am talking about, tell me if you want one. Once I upload my pictures, I'll put those up there.

Martes 14- Improv Class preformance! Superfun, pictures to come as well. Additionally, I wrote a rant, we all did, a sort of slam poetry thing.

Here it is:

Si, que cueraso eres. En tu bikini, tus tacos, piernas flacas, uñas con manicure. Esto no me moletsa. Estoy feliz que discubriste tu moda y te sientes bella. Lo que me molesta es como oscilas entre passiva y agression y blandes los dos como bistrui. Eres passiva cuando dejes tu pelado a empujarte, ignorar tu mente, valorar tu cola mas que tu car. Eres passiva cuando pierdas la independencia y sueños para que trabajaste cuando eramos niñas. Y eres competitivo tambien, con cosas que no son partidos: tu cuerpo, tus habitos, tu vida intima, tu novio, tus jenes deseãdor, tu perfume, tu carro, tu pelo, tus vacaciones, tus vacilas, tu cellular......

Quiero ser tu amiga, pero es dificil a no caerme en celos cuando no me dejas espacio a ser quien son. Y quien soy? Con mis muslos gorditos y my voz alta y ni un par de tacones y my closet? Soy mujer, como tu. Tal vez te da verguenza a llamarte una mujer y no una chica o una dama. Pero, para mi, me da fuerza.

Here's the rough English version

Yup, you sure look good in a bikini, your heels, your skinny thighs, your manicure. That doesn't bother me. I'm glad you found your style and you feel pretty. What really gets undermy skin is how you swich from passive to competive and you weild them both with alarming clarity. You're passive when you let guys push you around, push up your body (you know what part I'm talking about) and push down your mind. Passive when you forget the goals and the independance that you worked for when we were kids. And your'e competitive too, with things that aren't games: your body, your habits, your sex life, your boyfriend, your designer jeans, your perfume, your car, your vacations, your phone..

I want to be your friend, but its hard not to fall into jealosy when you don't give me space to be who I am. and who am I? With my thick thighs and loud voice and not a pair of heels in my closet? I'm a woman, just like you. Maybe its shame ful for you to call yourself a woman, and not a lady or a girl. But for me, it gives me strenght.

So the feminism and fun continues in Quito, soon to be augmented by family! I'm so excited!

500 Years of Solitude

You probably could have read that entire book since I last updated this blog in any meaningful way. I weep for you, dear blog readers, without the antics of your dear dita and her long stories about linguistics, just as you must have wept for me as I took my finals. Actually, several of my classes were truly able to be classified as "a joke," but still, it was a lot of work.

I'm done now, and I have been since friday, actually. Its christmas time now (just like in the northern hemispere!) so thing's have been pretty busy. We decorated the house for christmas, which entailed setting out 5 different tableaux of things vaguely relating to christmas and closer relating to dolls. Ecuamadre has named each little scene. Here are thier names: The Rich People's Town, The Poor People's Town, The People Dancing Around The May Pole With A Clown, The Animals Going to Jesus, The Nativity Scene of Indigenous People, The Indigenous People, The Chirstmas Tree, and All The Left Over Figurines That Are On The Coffee Table. The cat has already broken four little figures and we all hate her now.

My host family also does something called a Novena for each of the days of advent (is it called Advent? I'm not so good with my religious terms). There are many (9?) siblings in the family, so each day they go to a different sibling's house, sing songs, prey, eat dessert and talk about Christmas. It's a really lovely tradition, everyone seems so happy. And I've learned Our Father and Hail Mary in Spañol.

The other really exciting news is that my family is coming today! Originally, until about 6 last night, I thouth they were coming on Tuesday, but no, it is today. I am going to get them at the airport at 7! I'm so excited to see my ma and Lester again, to show them all the wonderful places I have met, to watch them struggle with the altitude and bus routs just like I did, to hug them and eat good food and go to Baños!

Funny and Vulgar

I love this! Its totally not PG-13, but it fully describes how messy languages are.

http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/efee7/what_are_your_favorite_culturally_untranslateable

10th Week, Quito Style, Side of Fries

Well, its exam week here in Ecuador, which means I look forward to going to sleep at 9 pm, have huge carbohyrdate cravings and only want to wear soft pants. And the work, oh yeah, the work. Can all the people currently sitting in the Kalamazoo College library take a second and raise your hands the the ceiling, look towards the nearest computer and mutter "hallelulah"? That would make me really happy. Additionally, as you walk down Academy at 145 am and you have no fear of being mugged, can you say "praise be"? And as you only have THREE classes to do final projects for, can you say "damn, I have it good."? Also, you should really take advantage of the caf salad bar, you are gonna miss it when its not close by.

But enough W curve bullsnap, its time to actually write a blog entry...Oh wait. It's actually time to do 5 drawings of feet, 5 of hands, and a science project based heavily on the movie Avatar. I kid you not, Avatar.

So I'll get back to this woefully negelected blog once my bedtime moves past sunset. My b, peeps. My b also for that terrible slang I just used.

So Much Fun!!!

Despite some fireworks in the lower brain (aka anxiety), the past three days or so have been amazingly fun! Fiestas de Quito is so awesome! I've got to write an essay and make some cauliflower, but I just wanted to put that out there!

Also my ma and sister are coming in less than three weeks!!!

Home Stretch!

I´m so close to being done with the semester! A semester is so much longer than a 10 week quarter. Here´s what I have left (not that you are interested=
-sociology paper (english)
-Sociology exam
-Spanish dramatization
-ICRP Report
-Drawings of ten hands and five feet for art
-Unknown other art assignments
-Unknown Flora y Fauna del Ecuador assignments
-Improv Presentation
-Critical Essay on Sweeney Todd (Spanish)

I can do all this. Heck Yes.

Thanks, sometimes the internet is a space to vent/ organize your thoughts