Daily Lifes

p>Some people (my grandparents) might be confused about what my daily life is like here in EcuadorSIPWorld. Here's how it happens most days. 

5:40am. Alarm goes off. Snooze

5:50. Alarm goes again. Hate life, worry about how I always end up sleeping on my belly, that can't be good for neck.

6am. actually get up this time. Put on one of two pairs of jeans and one of three shirts. Same shoes every day.

6:15. make breakfast. I boil water for tea, make myself some kind of banana-based smoothie, and some kind of carbohydrate. My host dad drinks oatmeal and eats saltines and watches me in silence. We listen to the Christian radio. 

6:30. get ready for work: fill up my 2 liter bottle with filtered water, get my two little-snack packs of crackers, get my notebook, pens, voice recorder, and money for the bus and lunch

7. leave the house and walk half an hour down the giant hill I live on.

7:30. get to the bottom, wait for the bus.

7:30-7:45. Approximately 17 buses pass and none of them are going to Puembo. Some of them have cool signs on them like this one:

that shows all the laborious tasks the people of Tumbaco can do. but it also makes me think of those images that are actually people having sex. No judgement, plz.

7:45. Get on the Puembo bus. I used to just look the scenery but I just got some headphones so I mostly listen to the Mountain Goats ( Heretic Pride is my Mountain Goats album of the year) and sleep. 

8:15. Get to Puembo. Theres a line out to the corner, about 50 people, mostly Mas and Babies waiting for appoitnment. I battle through and make it to the door on the basis of my scrubs, admire how clean it is in there.

8:45. after I stand around for 30 minutes or so watching stuff that is way too complicated to take fieldnotes on, I go into one of the Drs offices to watch them do their family planning appointments. 

9:40. Those appointments are done, I leave the office to find the nurse swamped in preparing people. Each day, there are like 30 people that come to get the appointment you need to attend school. People do lots of things wrong like not bring the exams we need for the certificate, not bring the 1$ needed for the certificate, not bring the children the certificate is for, or have children that are out of the Puembo district. I spend a lot of time being like "you need an exam of urine AND feces AND blood. Yes. Blood. it's possible to get an exam of blood, its very safe." and "if your child is not going to school, you do not need to get the exams or the certificate." I can say this stuff on the phone too. 

We weigh and measure and take the temparature and blood pressure of so many people. Each day a baby pees on the scale when we take thier daipers off. 

10:30. I watch more appointments with the other Dr. 

11:30. I wait until now or 10 to eat my crackers. It's an obsession. It's a lifestyle. 

here's me and my double chin that has nothing to do with eating crackers.

1pm. Lunchtime with Doña Marcy. We eat chicken, rice, potatoes, and onion salad and gossip. 

1:20. Back to work. I look for files in the hideously disorganized archive room, prepare patients and watch more appointments. 

2:45. The patients are done, Dr. V slaps the giant pile of the clinic histories of the patients she's seen that day, Dr. J pulls out her phone to text in celebration

2:50. Four people come in: one want birth control but is actually already pregnant, one is a screaming child who needs stitches, and one is an over protective mom who wants to vaccinate her 7 year child with vaccines we do not carry and is mad about it. The other is a 27 year old man with some kind of vague ache ("my knee hurts." "I have a rash." "I was just wondering if this bleeding from my ear is normal." "Can you guys remove warts? Because I have a ton of warts and I'd like them removed today if you can.") We help all four of them in the three-quarters way that everyone seems satisfied with. There are a lot of recommendations to just go to the hospital

4:30. We pile into Dr. J's car and drive to Quito. We listen to radio disney very loud, even during the commercials. The Drs talk to very quietly to each or in English to the Georgetown medical student while the Nurse and I sit in back and ask each other simple, repetetive questions like "What is your favorite food? "What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?" "Have you seen The Green Lantern?" "What size shoe do you wear?" 

4:50. The Doc drops me off at the same spot every day and almost forgets every day. I walk up the hill being afraid of getting mugged even though nothing is scary on that walk, ever.

5:15. Make it home, remove horribly sweaty clothes. Eat more crackers. Waste my life on the internet.

8. host parents come home, give me weird foods for dinner. We do not speak but every 45 seconds or so my "mom" catches my eye and gives me a look like  tthat might symbolize love or something.

830pm. I start feeling really bad about not being able to type up the 25 hand scrawled pages into perfect fieldnotes each night. Instead of dealing with this productively, I mostly complain about it to people on Skype. Luckily, my excellent mother was just like "do those in maryland dummy and get enough sleep and don't beat yourself up over it." So I'm going to do that from now on.

This might also be because my desk is so durn messy:

contents include: external hard drive, Ipod, camera, voice recorder and all thier respective cords, two types of candy, my unused planner, notecards, "South America on a Shoe String" "The Dharma Bums in Spanish," a note entitled "Thing to Look Forward to in the US", Spanish-English Dictionary, a lone earring made of dried glue, broken headphones, reciepts, academic articles, my computer case, and a needle and thread. 

10: there is no context of fieldnotes now, I'm just really sitting around and reading and eating candy that I should have given to other people as gifts or candy that I just bought for myself

11: i go to sleep. Blah. 

Isn't like life in a foreign country fascinating and exotic?!?!?

 

Commuter

WHINING ALERT! PUT IN EARPLUGS NOW!

The time has come that I am sick of my commute. Its just too long and too uncomfortable. It starts out ok. Its beautiful to wake up while the sky is just turning pink and see it turn blue again. Pilar and I move in synchrony making breakfast and then we pray together. She crosses herself and arches her back so that it cracks, and I mutter something about nature and look reverantly out the window. I walk the four blocks to the bus and everything looks pale and clean and empty. The first bus isn't bad at all but all hope is lost by Floresta. I'm just sick of the curves and the winding roads and the danger. By the end of riding the metro to high school it was the same, there was no thrill of the rebirth out of the tunnel by Takoma, no joy at new graffiti. And the Floresta is the same way now. We round the curve of a bridge and the Andes spread before us and sun dries clothes and flowers bloom and all I can think about is stretching my legs.

Third bus is worse. Much poorer people so I feel awkward listening to music, this is clearly not a crowed that has ipods. I mostly listen to the same songs over and over or else the Rolling Stones, both of witch help me appreciate the scenery by reminding me that daily life can be beautiful. But that bus too is too long. By the time we clear Tumbaco I'm ready to be there, by the time we get to "La Y" that's the start of Puembo I'm late, by the time we pass the third high school I'm standing, antsy to go, and everyone is looking at me because they don't have ipods to fidget with.

And then back, opposite direction, more sweaty, less optimistic. Sagging. Bent a little bit.

And so today, leaving work early to go to school for an orientation was almost worse because it broke up my commute. Instead of something to just get through, it was 40 minutes of baking in the sun about to be late for the orientation. This was followed by the 2 hours of class about how to be safe in the Galapagos and not touch the animals. Then I ate some frozen yoghurt. Then I ate an empanada. Thennnnnnn I had to get on the Floresta going the oppposite direction to the Floresta starting-place. I got on a Floresta in the proper direction and we had one of those drivers that I love but should really not exist. He's the type of guy that will let any and all people on. The bus has 25 actual seats and five or so that they sweeze around the lump the engine creates by the driver. 5 more can stand comfortably, 8 is pushing it. There were twelve people standing when we pulled out of Cumbaya, and five more got on as we twisted our way home.

And then, untieng ourselves, I ran to my final bus that was stopped for passengers in a roundabout, getting honked to hell. I've got that agression that gets you on busses, and I was so intent on grabbing and shoving myself in that I didn't notice that I was pushing a lady with two kids out of the way and that the bus driver had stopped for real and was patiently pointing out that I could enter through the back door.

Sheepish, I grab a seat and wade through traffic until my corner. I walk back paranoid because its dark outside but nothing happens and nothing has. I spook easy though and my steps are fast. A man, a black man, stops to pick somehting up from the sidewalk and I'm sure that's him stopping to get behind me to rob me. He looks at me, as I try to not have that happen and sometimes, wow, I just want to gouge out my eyes so I don't have to make eye contact with anybody. He knew. He knew that I saw him for a black man waiting to rob and not a fellow grabbing a nickel from the concrete. My fault. I've been judging things at light speed all day. It's no excuse, but at least I understand why I did it.

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!

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.

Sick Nasty

WARNING: I throw up in this post and I tell you about it.

So, I got home from Tingo and everything was fine. Went to school monday, swimming, ate some grapes, etc. Three hours later, I wake up and go vomit in the toilet. I go to Madre's room, all sick kid scared. I'm shivering so I lay on my stomach on her floor. And start voming again. Prone on the floor. I thought you had to be in a crouching position to toss cookies, but I am constantly surprising my self. So I;m vomiting on the hardwood floor, inching slowly backwards with little flipper hands, leaving this bright yellow trail puddle. Madre comes back with some tea and literally shrieks. Whoops.

Made it back to sleep. Wake up in the morning to find Madre has hired a lady to wax our floors. I feel so bad!

I spent the day sleeping, watching Will and Grace and gagging down saltines.

I'm totally better now, but that was a food poisioning momement that I'm gonna keep with me forever.

Ouch

Hi Everybody,

I really want to update the blog with a really lush entry about the weekend, but I´m sort of in some pain right now.

Reasons for pain:
1. While swinging on a vine in the jungle, hit a tree with my chest. bruised ribs
2. While climbing in a cave in the jungle, hit my head on a rock. way messed up back.
3. went to physical therapy for above problems. Was put into traction by a machine that looked like it was invented by the nazi´s/ in the nazi era, and got my head pulled on for half an hour.
4. My stomach is, as we say, flujo.
5. Deep wells of self pity. Malcolm and Nick have started referring to me as ¨Sad.¨
6. For some reason needing to sleep for like 13 hours a day
7. oh yeah, I´m wearing a foam orthopaedic collar and thats making me sweat alot and leaving red marks on my chest.
8. did i mention my high levels of self pity?
9. did I mention the painkillers the PT gave me?

so not doing so good right now. but I´ll get better and then i´ll update. And sleep on my side and be able to nod. stuff like that.

PS. Here´s me looking fly. My hair is not actually the shape of the computer behind me, they are just the same color

What is this Day?

Written last night.



What is this day? What is going on? How did I get here?

Let the days flow by, let the water hold me down. Talking Heads. Breathe.

Woke up at 6, showered, felt depressed about my hair. Madre didn’t want to wake up quite yet, so I started making the juice. I put in some defrosted melon, some pineapple chunks (oh no, this means fermented pineapple-rind juice in a couple days), and some very squishy fruit from the coast called arasai. Which had worms in it, a little meal worm that I felt on my hand, so I had to throw the arasai away and we just had very watery juice.

Going to school, I encountered a boy in my improv class. He read the bible, I slept. Sociology, we had a substitute who asked us why we are taking this class. Why do I take any class? Why do I study sociology? Why am I in Ecuador? Why am I awake right now?

Drank coffee with the ladies. It was pouring rain and I couldn’t get alert, no matter how much we rehashed our gossip. Went to a computer lab, worked semi-diligently on my sociology paper. However, it still has big sentances in English like “en comparision de los dependistas, los que siguen la teoria de sistemas mundiales THINK THAT COUNTRIES SHOULDN’T INTEGRATE MULTILATERAL SYSTEMS INTO THEIR SOCIAL PROGRAMS.” Stuff like that. Real smooth right now. I also talked to Terry and Jon and Max, and that was nice.

Tried to get lunch with Mike and Jamie, but we were all weird about where to go. I realized if I want to have coffee and ride the bus and eat lunch, I can spent $3 on lunch. Whoops. So its basically Chinese vegetarian restaurant or snacks. I was all enthusiastic about my new life eating only from the Chinese vegetarian restaurant that I ordered a new dish, Tallerin Tai Pen. It was salty, soupy, lacking in vegatables, and gave me horrible gas. Well, not particularly worse that “the fartiest day in history” (see Otavalo entry), but still pretty bad.

Best part of the day. Maybe. I went to the library and found “The World According to Garp,” my second favorite book, in English and Spanish. I checked them both out. I have read it in English so many times I can read it in Spanish easily. I’m on page 30! Went to Spanish class, which produced some real gems of sentances, like “she abused our friendship when she stole my money,” and “the storage closet took advantage of World War II.” We also discussed the topic “Is religion good?”

Next up came Flora and Fauna of Ecuador. Woooo boy that class is dull. Its just powerpoints that are like “this is the cloud forest. Here are some pictures. Here are some plants that live in the cloud forest. Here are their pictures. Here are some animals that live in the cloud forest. Here are some pictures. This is the swamp......etc” for an hour and a half. I did a lot of the Garp reading during this time.

Afterwards, I hung out with Aracely and we decided to talk only in Spanish. She was knee deep in explaining her feelings towards a specific person, very personal feelings I may add, when we realized the patio we were sitting on had gone completely silent. Sometimes, when you concentrate on remembering words and conjugating, volume control sort of goes out the window. At least she can project well.

I rode the bus home and made a friend. We just started talking on the bus, his name is Javier and he studies architecture. He seems semi boring but possibly interesting. I’ll take all the friends I can get. He doesn't constantly correct my grammer or actively hit on me, meeting my two requirements. He may, however, play the pan flute, which is sort of iffy.

Got home, feeling brave and happy about making a new friend, and I was very happy to talk to an old one. Not old in age, like we have been friends for so long. You may know him as Eustice. Great to talk to him, to really be honest, to talk to someone who knows me outside of this crazy month in the sounhtern hemisphere. And it has been a month, one month yesterday. Five to go!

There’s a free jazz festival each night this week in the plaza of the teatro sucre, so we went, my madre, mi, our neighbor Dani (girl) and Jimmy. It was really cool, about 400 people in a plaza rockin out to semi-good smooth jazz. J immedielty got lost in the crowd, so we watched some people do some very sexual acrobatics. There was a big line infront of the teatro, and all of a suddent it began to move, so we joined it and went in the teatro. It was a very grand style of theater, like the Kennedy center or something, but not very large, maybe 350 capacity. Sat around for a while, speculated about what we might have signed on to see. It turned out to be part of an experimental theater festival. Chevre! We couldn’t figure out the name of the play, but it consisted of a woman, wearing a slip, smoking and drinking and rolling around in a chair while orchestrial music, gypsy ballads, and Edit Piaf songs played dramatically. A giant wedding dress was in the corner. There was also a table that rolled around.

The play was very good, well blocked, lit, costumed, etc but I was just too tired. I have big days and I’m not sleeping so well (all the farting?). Also, she never talked, so the music just put me to sleep. When I woke up, she was in a clown suit with blood all over her legs and these fake breast things by her face….we left.

Rode the trole home, Jimmy gave me one of his earphones so we could rock out to metal, that was nice. He went to get his gf from the train station, and then my madre just let it out. She was like “did you get the message of the play?”

“no, well not really, I was asleep.”

“I was like that. Smoking and drinking and waving my arms to get the pain outside. It was horrible. It was the worst time of my life.”


wooo boy sometimes you just can´t deal with things. That was one of those times. I went to bed.

Saturday Updates

Hi Guys, I wrote this stuff last Saturday, early evening, and then later in the evening.


Its awesome to have such a friendly mom, but sometimes it gets sort of old when all these people without social skills show up in your dining room with pans of pallela and slide projectors.

Its been an overall good Saturday, very relaxed and slow moving. Managed to sleep until 8, the latest of any day so far, and then had breakfast. Madre’s awesome friend Lilly and her friend came over. They are like 35 and super active and energetic. They just got back from Peru, and were getting the mountain bike they had stored behind the washing machine. They invited me to do active stuff with them, so I am going rock climbing with them at 8 tomorrow morning. So excited! They are so cool and friendly and smily. Also, I made a joke and everyone laughed and said I was funny! I was so proud!

Oh, speaking of my Spanish skills, I dreampt in Spanish last night. However, its not what you think. In the dream, I was in an elevator, trapped, and I was like, “well shit, I guess I’ve got to speak Spanish now.” Someone asked me what my favorite fruits were. I said, “I like apples, but only good apples. I like bananas, but not brown bananas. I don’t like pears. I like watermelon, but not the seeds.” Man, even when unconscious I am brilliant.

Madre had work, so I went with her to the consultorio, and watched half of Pulp Fiction in English with French subtitles. Diego was out back, trying to start the car, and the spark is busted, so he asked us to put our hands on the car and send energy to the engine. Diego and his energy. Eventually the car started! Energy rules!

Went home, napped hardxcore. I can just fall asleep in these weird positions with the sun in my eyes, I don’t even need to listen to Wilco anymore. Woke up as like 8 people came to the house, Madre’s sister, her husband and two daughers, Diego, Abuela and maybe one other person??? We ate: home made Minestronie soap, rice, veggie stir fry, two types of bought Chinese food and these bizarre things from the Chinese restaurant (they call them “Chifa”) that was like a giant won-ton friend cracker. You put sweet-and-sour sauce (corn syrup) on it, and eat it dry. NAST!

It was also insanely awkward because these two ladies were at the hosue to clean it before the party, and we were all skirting around them and ignoring them and they ate the same food, but in the kitchen. Round bouts the end of the meal, Malcolm and Nick showed up, and there wasn;t enough food. After we ate, we sat around the table and chatted. Eventually, N, M and I were excused to watch MTV while the rest of the family continued chatting. There’s only so much not having anything to say one can take. We watched MTV. True Life: I go to fat camp and True Life: I have an eating disorder. Nice juxtaposition, MTV. After that, we lay around in my mother’s bed and gossiped. I really like Nick and Malcolm. Ecuabuddies.

They left. These random people came over, bringing a huge pan of pallela and this movie projector. There is also a lady with a sick kid here. Why?!?!?! Ecuadorians are good at kissing hello, but bad at introductions of names or stating relationships or stating why people are in your house.

Well, Bolo is going to come get me soon with “algunos amigos” and we are going downtown to meet up with Jimmy and maybe some K kids who are apparently knee deep in a beer pong torunement with some people either from Germany or Tennessee. I might read some of Walden Two. Its pouring rain, not sure if I have it in me to get out there. But at least I’m experiencing culture! Aside from all the MTV.

Later, 1230.

Currently, there are about fifteen middle aged people singing folk songs in my living room, eating popcorn, and drinking scotch. I feel lame by comparison. But at the same time, I’m a little indignant. Why should I be out in a crowded street, wasting my money on cheap alcohol when there are people miserable and crying and alone places? If the going out isn’t making me feel particularly more connected, then why not help others while I’m at it? Social things like a club are supposed to be fun, but they just take it out of me, so I feel like I shouldn’t try to go to them to relax.