A year after Peace Corps

It's been nearly a year since I came home from Peace Corps in Ecuador.  It doesn't feel like a year but I have crammed a lot in, so maybe that's why.

Right after I got back, I headed to North Carolina at Landmark Learning to earn my Wilderness First Responder certification from NOLS WMI.

The Nook, a beautiful home away from home.

Not only did I find the most amazing emergency medical school I could imagine, but I fell back in love with EMS after however many years away from it.  And...who knows... it may have been the start down a new path in life.

Right after I got back from North Carolina, I was on my way north back to Alaska permanently to work as a rock climbing and ziplining guide for Alaska Mountain Guides.  On one of my first days in the tiny super touristy southeast town of Skagway, I walked into the volunteer fire department and began my time as a volunteer. It was rewarding, difficult and inspiring work that ranged from rescue on the sea, glacier rescue, search and rescue overnight on a famous trail, fire training, medical calls, trauma calls, medivacs all the way up by ambulance to Whitehorse, Yukon, by way of dirt roads, and medivacs off cruise ships.  I was aching to have my EMT certification back so...when it became clear that I was returning to Illinois for at least the winter, I reserved my spot with Landmark Learning again for their month-long EMT-B class.

Nothing like wheeling in a stokes litter over a trail with a full overnight rescue pack on.

 

Skagway's water rescue boat on one of southeast's many gorgeous islands.

 

Practicing rappelling and ascending on the clocktower wall over Skagway.

EMS trauma rodeo... I got a traumatic brain injury with raccoon eyes, projectile vomiting (see the red cups of melted ice cream, food coloring, and fruit chunks to the left), and a compound forearm fracture.  Scared the shit out of a passerby but I couldn't verbally communicate to her because my mouth was full of fake vomit.

Oh, right.  I was also a guide for Alaska Mountain Guides:

Leaving Skagway was hard and I had a feeling I wouldn't be coming back as soon as I wanted, which indeed turned out to be true.

I got to stopover a few days in Washington to visit my old friend Scott at Mount Rainier, where my visit just completely happened to coincide with a kind of geological delegation from Colombia.  A group of scientists and emergency management and mitigation personnel from the U.S. visited a group of people with likewise professions in Colombia at the site of a volcanic disaster that claimed approximately 23,000 lives in 1985.  So during my visit, these Colombians just happened to plan their trip up to the same place.  So I got to follow them around and participate in their discussions - even met the famous Marta Calvache!  I was seriously pleased to be able to converse with her in her native language.

What do you do on a geology field trip?  Look at dirt.  I mean, ash.

Pretty soon I was again heading down to North Carolina to work like mad for a month in my EMT class at Landmark Learning with some five teachers, most of them paramedics but all WEMTs.  Despite not having a single call during my 12 hours of practical time, I thoroughly enjoyed focusing pretty much every waking hour of every day on the class.  And when it was over, I was completely at a loss for what to do now.  I spent a month focused and excited about what I was doing and then there was no where to go with it and carry on the energy.

So... reluctantly... I drove back to Illinois.

Job searching in Alaska was going no where since I failed to obtain a state driver's license (my new glasses never arrived in time for me to take the vision exam), and pretty much every job I wanted required one.  And I needed a job.  So I began looking in northern Illinois, which pretty much means retail even with a B.S. and M.S. in geology.  At the same time, curious about continuing EMS education, I started checking out the paramedic program at McHenry County College.  That started leading me in the direction of finding local fire department or private sponsorship, which led me to sign up for my only prerequisite class - Human Biology.

And to help me along with actually living here and being able to pay bills, Starbucks offered me a full time job.  I get a free pound of coffee a week (I'm currently sitting on nearly 10 pounds of coffee as I don't drink it that fast - any takers?) and all the free drinks I could possibly want (that excitement runs out after a month).

I went a 24-hour ridealong with the fire department I most want to work for a couple months ago.  We got slammed by something like eight calls, starting one hour in at 7 am with a full arrest - and so I found myself totally new to this crew, feeling completely calm doing chest compressions and working with the bag valve mask.  The day and night just continued like that with psychiatric patients, some trauma, a car accident on a seriously icy stretch of road, drug withdrawal, on and on.  It was exhausting... especially with the fire calls going off constantly next to our ambulance tones... especially when I had to go to work at Starbucks the following day...but I liked it.

The next step is waiting for them to invite me to a couple tests - one physical, one written, and an interview - before I can possibly be invited on as a cadet.  The disappointing thing is, I can't jump right into paramedic school - they have you become firefighters first.  The positive thing is, though, that I'd get nearly a year working with them as an EMT gaining experience in a suburban Illinois district.  I'm currently working my ass off at the gym preparing for the physical exam (look up 'CPAT' to see why I'm a little driven).  I sort of hope they remember the time when I was one hour new to their department and jumped right into helping with a full arrest patient...maybe that'll get me some leverage...

So that's where I am now.  Working for Starbucks, taking Human Biology, and working out.  Kind of floating, kind of not really sure what's going to happen or where I'm going.  But I think maybe I have a plan?  Sort of, kind of?

Oh, and I turned into Katniss Everdean.  I bought a beautiful black competition recurve bow that I shoot once or twice a week. 

There is nothing much to say

Well I screwed up trying to keep up with this blog, and some of you have reminded me it exists!  Sorry about that!

But the truth is, I haven´t had tons to write about, or at least, any motivation to write about the goings on of my Ecuadorian life.  Things might be changing though, dramatically!

I was offered a site change by my program manager and I think (like, 99% sure) that I´m taking the offer and moving to...

...

...Imbabura province!

Believe me, this was not an easy decision but it seems the most logical one.  My site in the mountains of Chimborazo has been disappointing.  I stuck it out for over a year but things weren´t happening.  I like the people in my site but unfortunately trying to get them into one of my projects was like pulling teeth.  It´s the same story for a lot of people - set up a meeting for something and no one shows up - except it happened over and over and basically one year later, I´ve got absolutely nothing done, my language hasn´t improved (nor have I picked up much Quichua), and I´m in a pretty bad emotional place about why I´m even spending two years of my life being miserable.

I spend most of my time reading, watching movies, yep, there was supposed to be a third thing there but I realized that´s about it.  I used to go out and wander around the community every day looking desperately for something, anything, to do, but nothing resolved.  I helped my host with her tiny high-angle farm some days.  I used to have a garden in the school but one day I found it all ripped up.  I went to community meetings and parroquial meetings every week.  Despite all the energy I put into searching for needs and desires, trying to launch projects, etc., nothing materialized and here I am feeling very dejected, unaccomplished and mopey - basically, waiting for my time to be over.

This isn´t ok.

After having some excellent talks with fellow volunteers to help me straighten out my thoughts (thanks guys, you know who you are) and talking with my program manager and the country´s second-in-command, I realized I had to do what was best - and now I believe what´s best is leaving my community.

I have one option and so far I´m liking the idea of it - a small (smaller than mine right now) community located in Imbabura province.  I´m planning on visiting it soon, hopefully next week or shortly after.  There´s already quite a volunteer program started there so that would be my main concern - where do I fit in?  I also want to make sure my new host family accepts my cat, maybe even my rabbit.  Moving across the country requires me to live with a host family again for three months.  Don´t think I mind this too much.  I like living with other people.

If you´re curious about the site, there´s tons of information here:  Pucará

Hopefully...changing sites will give me more to talk about here!

A long overdue update

Well hello, it´s been a while hasn´t it? I´ve been prodded by people to return to the blogging world and update this thing. I´m sorry I´ve neglected it.

First, I´d like to share a video of footage on a not-so-recent climb up the central peak of Rumiñahui in February:

Life in the campo of Ecuador has been up and down but I´m still at it, trying different approaches until things work. I´m focused on one project right now, my Brigada Verde, or the eco-club. One day I went to the school and handed out little slips of paper that were invites to come to the school at 2 p.m. on Sunday for the first (really not the first, but the NEW first) meeting of Brigada Verde. I brought some recycled crafts to show the kids and they went crazy over them. So with all the enthusiasm, I thought I had finally done it and finally had an established project with participation.

I prepare diligently and even bought my own little whiteboard for Sunday (by the way, this was last Sunday). I wrote out some ideas and thought of what I´d say. I was ready to go when Sunday rolled around, and I strolled to the school early to meet the kids. Only... there were none. I looked longingly up and down the street for kids to crest the hill en masse but none came. Then suddenly a girl jumped me from behind - aha, she and her friend were here for the club! We waited, then one girl ran off to apparently find more kids, and the other surprised me by turning on the air raid siren to attract more kids. Then suddenly there were five kids. Then 7. Then 9. The school director didn´t show up to open a room for us so we crouched on the church bench and tried to start, but it was distracting and the kids wouldn´t concentrate (they just want to play). So we packed up and went to the Casa Comunal, the communal meetinghouse. We knew it was locked but we risked it...and it was locked. So we commenced on the steps, only now we picked up more kids, a total of 19! Being a large, squirrelly group, I resorted to the goldmine and handed out membership cards for them to sign and color. It worked like a charm. So - ART is the key to these childrens´hearts.


An intimidating storm approached from the west (that´s backwards for the prevailing winds in my valley) and began thundering and dumping us with copious amounts of rain, so we broke up for the day. On Monday I met my host Maria in Riobamba and we found a place to laminate the cards. It was more expensive than I thought ($6 for 20! yikes) but they look good. I brought them to school on Wednesday to show the kids and told them they had to go to next Sunday´s meeting to get them. More kids asked if they could have their own cards. I think once this club gets established (perhaps, I mean to say, lures kids in with exciting crafts and activities), I won´t have to worry about attendance and kids not showing up.

I´m also working on designs for bread ovens that some people would like to construct. I had to switch mentality from the New Mexican adobe design (made of clay and sand) to a brick and cement-only design. I have plenty of materials now and hopefully the people that were interested are still interested.

In a couple weeks, Maria and I will be taking a journey to Quito for the baños secos (dry toilets) workshop. She seems very excited, and so am I - not just to learn about how to deal with poop, but for her to see some more of Peace Corps life. After that, I think I´ll be climbing Cotopaxi again (attempt 2) with another PCV. Super excited. If not then, then after midservice the first week of May.

And let´s see...what else...oh! I got a very interesting flyer from my grocery store that announced two places in Riobamba (and others in Latacunga and Ambato) are taking plastic number 2 bottles for recycling, and paying 2 cents for each. I really badly want to get my community into a recycling program - maybe as simple as setting out some containers in the Casa Comunal, telling people to deposit their bottles in them, and having volunteers accompany the cache to Riobamba on buses friendly to the cause. The money can go to the community, so 1) no more burning plastic bottles or tossing them in the river, and 2) money!

Ok, enough of work.

For fun, I´ve been following Maria around. Only lately she´s in a fishing mood, so we´ve been going to some really pretty spots. Being vegetarian, I have zero interest in fishing but I still find going out fun. One particularly beautiful day (until it hailed peas) we grazed a slope´s mora (like blackberry) bushes for their sweets. Most were picked over, but Maria underestimated my intense desire to collect berries. It must be a vegetarian thing - all that energy not fishing or hunting diverted to plants. So I threw myself into the bushes and got the extra juicy, sun-ripened berries high on top of the plant out of reach of normal people. Doing this, we filled a milk can with them and I ended up quite cut up and itchy. TOTALLY worth it though for a couple cups of juice. These are my hands, bloodied or juicy, sort of both:


On Tuesday, we got up super early (Maria at 3 a.m., me at 4 a.m.) and trudged up the hill with the local cheese maker Jose and delinquent neighborkid Rebeka. It began raining when we started, making the way muddy. But on we went, determined. I love hiking in darkness and really enjoyed every step. When the sun began subtly illuminating the valley, the mountains backlit so lightly, I got a real feeling of how immense they are and how delicate a perch my site has in them. We stopped so the group could dig up worms, then continued directly up to meet a trail that we followed to a small stream. My reaction was, ¨This is IT?¨ It was tiny. And they wanted to pluck large trout from it? Huh. But sure enough, Maria caught one and it was bigger than I´ve seen - about a foot long. We continued following up the stream but it was very, very difficult going. It was a narrow, incised stream covered on both sides by soft moss and thick plants. Some places were so sketch that if you slipped off the moss, you´d fall 15 feet into a pool, unable to climb back up the waterfall or down below - you would be truly stuck without a rope, and in very cold water.

Rebeka and I foolishly continued following Jose along the stream while Maria climbed out the other side. Eventually we met up but it was ridiculously hard. We kept following the stream and I wondered where it actually went - I thought we were near the crest of the mountains. Oh, how I was wrong. We entered one large basin and saw the stream far in the distance cascading over rocks. And at that cascade, we climbed up into another basin. It was here that we ran out of fish and the group switched to hunting rabbits. They had zero success so we packed it up and hiked on home.

Hmm... what else?

The weather has been unbelievably nice lately. Sort of warmish, sometimes sunny, nothing like the past year I´ve spent in the Andes. Very pleasant and doable. In fact, last night I recorded the warmest temperature EVER in my room: 71 degrees. Usually it´s in the 50s.

Finally, my kitten is a giant cat, and I she always looks happy even when she´s not:


Until next time! I promise to update more. Maybe once a week at most.

A real project?

The day I got back from Chimborazo was horrible...I won't go into the details but coming home was very disappointing. It could be taken as just a misunderstanding and a natural (??) desire to take advantage of a foreigner, but the way I see it, it was a pretty cruel thing that happened and I was offended.

The rest of the week I spent mostly indoors avoiding life outside. I didn't want to face anything related to what happened that Tuesday afternoon. My host even thought I was mad at her because I was so elusive, but she was too so we didn't actually meet until Saturday morning. I tried entering the kitchen as bright as I could manage with the required "Buenos dias" and though it was rocky, eventually things would repair yet again.

The week continued to get bad, pretty much ending with my folks announcing that they have to give up one of their dogs, Gizmo, because he has a major behavioral issue (like, almost ripping fingers off and sending both my folks to the ER). Gizmo's threatened and bitten my dad, mom, and even my best buddy back home who began wearing full motorcycle protection gear to my house to avoid his teeth. But he never bit me, so while I can understand his behavior is unacceptable, it's hard for me to feel like he's really a bad dog. But later that day my mom texted me to say they were giving him another chance but only with training. We'll see...

The weather was nice for a little while in early January but now it's back to being mostly rainy and quite cold. It's 55 in my room right now, which isn't a very comfortable temperature to be honest. My fingers are icy. My host had to cut grass for her guinea pigs and rabbits (which are all dying, along with the chickens and we don't know why) and came back soaked and muddy. So I've been doing a lot of indoor work myself.

Last night was a regular community meeting and I requested to have a word. I'd written out a long speech detailing what happened on Tuesday, about integration, about what I want from the community, and pretty much crossed all that out until what remained was a short bit on how I've been here almost a year, how I have a year left, and I want to DO something with that year but I need help and interest or I'm leaving. I had to write it out or I wouldn't remember everything, but the reaction to it while I read was interesting. At one point I listed a bunch of potential projects related to my program, and after a few there were loud (excited?) whispers. I recall doing this almost exact speech when I first came to the community, but now that one of my favorite people is president, I think I have a better chance of getting things happening with his support.

So when I was finished, the secretary next to me said she was personally interested in learning how to make things with used materials (trash), and a few others chimed in that they want an artesanias group. The secretary was fiddling with a plastic bag and held it up saying they could do something with it - and I added that yes, I can show them how to make yarn out of it, and it's easy (huge gasps and whispers). People in the front row agreed and said they have a problem with what to do with trash, and they especially want to stop burning it (my mouth might have dropped open at this moment). Turning trash into some useful materials may help the problem a little and it may begin opening doors to other solutions like reducing trash in the first place, recycling, and maybe designing a small landfill. Who knows... I just know I was thrilled with what I heard. Finally, THEY picked the day, the time, and the place. It'll start this Sunday at 10 p.m. in the community house. I'm planning on making a couple posters to announce the event to the rest of the community and at the first meeting we'll look at some things we'll be making (some examples I've made and pictures on my computer of other possibilities), and agreeing on a schedule of what we want to make and when.

Then my host next to me jumped in and told everyone how they need to make wood ovens. She told them how creative I apparently am, how one day I decided to paint my room and the next day it was painted perfectly - "like a man paints." (everyone roared laughing). Hah. Right. And she mentioned the 'marvellous' things I knit. So naturally, I can make ovens. Wood-burning is not at all ideal in my location because of heavy deforestation, but people need to burn fires so it happens. Good ovens help a little by convecting and conserving heat, reducing the need for tons of wood. Plus building them can introduce other topics like why not to burn trash, what kind of wood is best, how to cure wood properly for maximum efficiency. Again, there was a great amount of reaction and enthusiasm to this idea. One guy invited me to see his oven the next day - hello, oven-making counterpart.

So I left the meeting feeling like things were actually going to happen now. Finally. Maybe? I've learned not to be too optimistic. But I will be happy if one person shows up to the artesanias meeting.

Chimborazo climb

Sooo... it was very cold and windy and I didn´t get much video. But this is what I got! Up to 20,500 feet, the Veintimilla summit of Chimborazo:

Back in site

I flew home to Ecuador feeling optimistic though apprehensive about a lot of things. I felt good in the car ride to Riobamba. Then... I got on a bus to my site.

Of course, the first familiar face I encountered is the bus driver... my least favorite bus driver... who is one of the most unfriendly people I've met here. His automatic unfriendliness towards me and no one else is baffling but I ignore it. Then the pan man boarded - that 30-year-old vender who bothers me at every chance to go with him on trips in Ecuador, to marry him, to answer his endless questions about the glory of America (but his mind is set that food is cheap and jobs are plentiful there). Less in the mood for this than I usually am, he probably sensed some extra hostility and went on his way.

I passed out cold on the bus in short cat naps.

And was awakened when a screaming girl got on the bus passing the road to the other side of the river. Suddenly she was ripping the hair out of the woman in front of me, beating her with fists and slapping her face. A man got on too that seemed to be on her side, but unwilling to join the fight. Everyone began screaming in Quichua, so I didn't have a single clue why this was happening. Another woman got on who appeared to be the girl's mother and began beating the woman as well. The whole time I was sitting there wide-eyed and totally confused and terrified. Everyone else on the bus seemed irritated but didn't interrupt the attackers. The bus driver demanded in Spanish that they take their fight off the bus. And I moved to get out of the way, totally unsure of what I should actually be doing if anything. The bus continued to my site as the beating continued, the victim's little boy screaming shrilly in the front for his mom. Soon the attacking woman was dragged off with the young girl, but another woman on the bus ran to the front and began beating the woman... which led to the other woman off the bus and the girl to charge back on and help. Soon the victim's face was gushing blood, and everyone was dragged back off and the door slammed shut on someone else trying to get on.

(note: I felt safe more or less because this was obviously a personal issue)

The woman called the police and I couldn't get off that bus soon enough. Welcome back to Ecuador! I dragged my bags up to my room shaking and thinking how I'd always seen the people in my site to be generally peaceful... not resorting to mob violence for revenge, and certainly not starting a fight on a bus.

Suddenly less than excited to be back, I spent the night alone organizing my new bounty, watching movies, and doing the miniature puzzle from home to see if I'm missing any pieces (the box burst and all the teeny pieces went all over the bag... I'm missing 1 piece).

I was planning to go to Riobamba the next to search for a few things - a tank for boiled water, shelving for my books, and paint for my room - but woke up the next morning feeling exhausted. I kept setting back the alarm until I finally just turned it off, and thanks to the last few days of almost zero sleep, I rested until about 1 p.m. in bed.

How I don't wake up in the States

So it's boreal winter up here in the northern hemisphere... meaning hardly any daylight compared with my usual 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. ecuatorial light. In Ecuador I wake up early to all kinds of things - donkies, roosters, Quichua women congregating in my yard roasting llamas, parades, fireworks, airhorns, you name it. In the U.S., my room is relatively peaceful and the window faces west. So whatever sunlight does escape through this thick mantle of gray blah doesn't reach my room, and thus I don't wake up.

But I'm not complaining. I could use a break from this:

Four months in Ecuador

It's been a while, I know. Here I am, celebrating month four in site as a Peace Corps volunteer in Ecuador. Part of why I haven't written in a while is... I'm convinced volunteers are bipolar unless they get lucky with a 100% compatible site and are 100% culturally adapted.

I'm not, which is normal. I have Americanness that will never go away no matter how much I learn about Andean cultures, no matter how fluently I communicate in Spanish or Quichua, no matter anything...I will alway stick out. The idea, however, is to adapt and learn as much as possible in order to function efficiently in a foreign society. The magic word is 'integrate'. It doesn't necessary mean donning a heavy black wool skirt and hard wide-brimmed white hat (I live in a culture where dress codes aren't rigid; instead they're used a social identity), but it definitely means meeting people and making friends.

In four months I've already had my share of tiny victories and big disappointments. It's a testament to the fact that my community will move along when it wants to, and do what it wants to do - they're not on my schedule, I'm on theirs. The other day I was sitting on my steps thinking to myself that I'm not doing anything, and after being here a third of a year, I couldn't see myself doing anything much in the future. I was struggling to get a counterpart to come with me to the Reconnect workshop in Quito in September. My Ministerio friends were waiting for weeks on an answer if one of them could go, but when my community heard about that, they insisted someone who actually lived in the community should go. I fully agreed, and the secretary immediately volunteered...until I told her it was for three days. No one else stepped forward despite me reinforcing the fact that it was fully paid for.

My program directors called me three times asking if someone was going yet...and, frustrated, I kept having to say no.

About two weeks ago I noticed that something was extremely different. I didn't want to jump to conclusions by saying the seasons flopped in a single day, but now I'm not so cautious. One day, the sun came out and it just felt...warmer. I went up to the roof and soaked it in for maybe an hour until clouds came in and, each time one passed in front of the sun, it felt like the temperature plummeted 5 degrees or so. I also noticed the position of the sun rising above the mountains and setting down the valley. It seemed almost instant that we had more sunlight.

During most of May, June, and July we had about two very patchy days of chilly sun, and a lot of rain and wind. Suddenly, for the next two weeks, we had mostly sunny skies (with, of course, copious cloudcover especially in the afternoon). One of these lovely days I used to get to the top of Torre, meaning "Tower", the mountain I live on. I gleefully found it was 14,200 feet high, 4,000 feet above my community. But clouds stretched beyond and covered up the active Sangay volcano. And today, we woke to a completely blue sky, the first I'd seen in many months. It was dazzling!

My host left for the day and I spent my time enjoying the sun. I made (real) coffee from Jipijapa, thanks to Caroline, and a huge plate of naan bread that I devoured cross-legged on my cement balcony glassing over El Torre's beautiful grassy folds that sit above the worked land, too thin and steep for farming and dangerous for grazing (stories of horses tumbling down the mountain aren't all that uncommon). I juggled between a Spanish verb workbook, Nepali practice, and Three Cups of Tea which my parents sent me in a package that miraculously arrived two days before my birthday, over two months after they sent it. I'm really enjoying Three Cups of Tea, even more than Stones for Schools, because it covers the part of Mortenson's inital cultural adaptation, mistakes, and surprises that are different than my own but very relative. I've been getting back into reading after spending the last couple of months semi-obsessed with watching the extremely limited movie selection on my computer. I opened up my PC for Kindle program and, on a curious whim based on alphabetical organization, I started reading George Bush's "Decision Points". If I'm still in a political mood, I plan on following it with "The Audacity of Hope," "The Revolution: A Manifesto," "Bush At War," "Obama's Wars," "End the Fed," "Fiasco," "My Life," and "We Who Dared to Say No to War". So long as my computer doesn't quit me, I have a fountain of literature to choose from.

Around 3 p.m. when the wind picked up and clouds began rolling in, I went out to get some surveys done. I wanted to check on my garden first - the peas I planted months ago are finally blooming, and the radishes are maturing a lightning speed. A week ago, I took a bite of the first successful veggie I ever grew, an extremely peppery radish. I was disappointed to see that someone dug up all the school's carrots, even though they weren't yet as big as they could have been. I went around pulling up a few that remained to give to Moo and brought them home.

I could have stayed in, but I felt I had to get a least a couple surveys done so I went back out. Along the way, I met two men sitting on the low church wall talking and waiting for the bus. One was an employee at the Oficina Tecnica for Parque Nacional Sangay, and another was someone I knew of but didn't actually know, the father of the school director (my counterpart on paper, but he was seriously injured a couple months ago and I haven't seen him since). He asked the usual "Para donde?" which is almost as confusing as the also common "De viene?" Just out for a walk, I responded. And suddenly he launched into comparing the two mountains surrounding us as two towers (being named "El Torre"), like Twin Towers that won't fall...he was using them as a sort of bizarre allegory to say the towers here wouldn't fail the community if they used them for tourism.

I was really, really confused. But he continued: They have this Centro de Interpretacion (of resources, not language) that the community is trying to open and use, but it's no where near being ready. I already knew about it, but wasn't aware that some people have strong desires to see this center be further developed and finally opened. Was I going somewhere in a hurry, he asked. Of course not...so we three wandered down to the site of the Interpretation Center. And I saw it in a different light, having finally been introduced to the grounds by someone extremely enthusiastic about its potential. His enthusiasm was infectous. We followed a level, twisting path that I realized was wide and level enough for a car and connected to the main road. My tourguide explained his vision for lining the small road with native trees growing in the electric company's vivero nearby. The flat grassy area would serve as a parking space. A large, glisteningly new satellite dish sits fenced in outside the Center, ready to work but so far it's been useless. This man and others I've spoken with would love to see the Center stocked with computers hooked to the internet for community use. Peering into the Center for the first time, I was shocked. It's shining, brand-new. It's got sealed wood flooring and white walls, unfinished interpretive exhibits, maps and signs. My guide listed all kinds of adventurous outdoors activities for visitors to enjoy while supplimenting the income of community residents who might like to help. "There, there, and there," he said, pointing out what he hoped would be the three future sites of tourist cabins nearby.

"Hagamos!" he said, "Let's do this!", taking my hand with more relieved enthusiasm than anything else. "Trabajemos!" "Let's work together!" With our combined talents, we could finally get the Center up and running, he said. Is this maybe, finally, really, why I'm here? Have I found my main project and my counterpart? I invited him to the workshop in Quito, half expecting him to say it was too long to be away from work in the community. But surprisingly, he just responded by shaking my hand, a definitive "yes." As we walked back to the road, I told him, "I'm here to serve your community and I would love to work with you. I want to see this Interpretation Center working." He patted me hard on the back, saying to both me and the Ministerio man, "We're going to do this." The Ministerio man said his organization was still investigating if he could go to the workshop too. And I didn't say he couldn't anymore - if the three of us went together, it would be even more helpful because it appears to be a joint project.

I went home floating, thrilled that after all the dead ends and searching, maybe my career in the Peace Corps was starting. I went back to the balcony to read with the last rays of the evening and, instead of way down valley like two weeks before, a thunderstorm rolled comfortingly overhead. My host brought us up two bowls of popcorn and as I focused on talking with her, a chicken jumped into the bowl in my lap. My neighbor waved to us going up his house's steps and, with a big smile, just heard him say "Cristinita!"

I realized I hadn't been called 'gringita' in my community in months.

Ecuador staging and day 1 of training

Just a couple days have passed and I have so much to write about!

On Wednesday, staging day, I slept in to the glorious hour of 9:30 a.m. in a heavenly, cozy hotel bed. Got one final meal of avocado/carrot/cucumber sushi for breakfast from the Whole Foods right down the way. Registration started at 12 and then, with the turning in of a pile of paperwork, we became official Peace Corps trainees.

Staging lasted from 1 to 7 and started off with one of those icebreakers where you have a list of skills, experiences, random facts, and you have to find someone in the room to match one. I may have scoffed a little at it, but I'll admit - it helped me learn names. Most of the day was spent discussing commitment (Are we really ready for this?), a broad safety overview, a reminder of Peace Corps' Core Expectations, all reinforced by small group skits and by drawing pictoral interpretations of our anxieties and aspirations.

Almost all 42 of us made it. Well... it seemed like a lot of us were there. Maybe in the 30s? Our last meal was waaaaay way far from the hotel at J Paul's where I had a pretty miserable veggie burger. I'll try and forget it and just remember the fries and salad for my last American meal.

I didn't bother going to sleep. I got some more Denali work done (submitting a pile of brand-new EarthCaches tonight!!), got the video above finished, got re-packed to see if I could get things a little more organized for arrival, and tried so hard to catch one final episode of It's Always Sunny. I don't even like TV, but I do enjoy seeing that once a week. But I totally ran out of time. Suddenly it was 3 a.m., and time to congregate downstairs in the hotel lobby.

And then sleepiness REALLY hit me. I was zombified. We piled into a coach bus to head for the airport and I don't even really remember the ride. Our mass of PC people and luggage blocked the entrance and caused some kind of security problem, so we continued on to checking and inudated them. But luckily our flight was hours away...

Yet the weather continued to plague us. Apparently the turbulence was so bad on the same earlier flight to Miami that a couple flight attendants were injured enough to be hospitalized - so instead of flying over the ocean, our flight went overland. Fun!

In the Miami airport, we all sought out our very last meal in the United States but it seemed a lot of us were disappointed. After walking for ages with Lindsay, another trainee, we gave up finding food and returned near our gate for a cheese pizza from Pizza Hut. Got my very last soy latte, and I'm happy to say it was pretty good!

On the flight to Quito, I came in and out of drowsy conciousness. I tried reviewing some Spanish but I literally couldn't focus my eyes. Those 3 hours and something minutes seemed like days. And then came our descent! Our very rapid descent. The very first thing I spotted was Guagua Pichincha, an active volcano located right on the edge of Quito. And the airport is right next to it.

Entering the country was a piece of cake and a lot faster than other entries I've had. There was no whooping or cheering when we arrived like I've seen in some other PC videos, but a group of support staff was there to help us check in and gather back our Peace Corps passports. Pink ribbon tied to all our bags to help us grab each others' luggage (a Peace Corps tradition, I guess). And onto a coach bus for a long ride through the city to our temporary home at San Patricio.

I didn't feel shock being here. The streets look familiar, the language barrier doesn't put me off because it's not that huge for me. I have this huge sense of familiarity already, and I feel like this is right, like being here is what I was supposed to do and it just took so long to do it.

San Patricio is a spacious building like a community center where our two-bed and one bath dorms are located upstairs. Up many flights of stairs. We remembered our altitude (like 9000 feet I guess?) immediately climbing them for the first time. I now have to throw toliet paper in the garbage instead of flushing it because of the plumbing and treatment system, and when I turned the shower on, a great fountain of water gushed from the top of the head and showered the entire bathroom.

During dinner, a lot of the Ecuadorean staff stopped by to introduce themselves. We ate a tomato soup, popcorn (apparently quite popular?) and rice (there was meat and veggies too but I skipped this). One massive game of bananagrams followed, probably 14 or more people joined in. At least three of us brought a set.

The NEXT day, today, we had a breakfast of rolls, eggs (I passed), and Nescafe (Firefly Cafe, if you're reading this, please rescue me after I graduate from training!!!). We loaded up the same coach bus and headed our bumpy way to Peace Corps' new training center in Tumbaco. It's a really nice property with an open area in the center and bunches of classrooms inside. We had a seminar on safety and met the Country Director. It was a day filled with paperwork - they set us free to complete six tasks.

1. Forms! A form to tell them our host family preferences (please be receptive to me being a vegetarian, please!), a skills inventory to see if we have any other skills not in our application, a short bio with yet another aspiration statement (I think it's my third and each time it's getting more and more robotic), a form for personal data, and the third time I saw the authorization of use of material (our bios and photos can be released to anyone).

2. Allowances! An envelope of cash to pay our host families for the first two weeks to reimburse them for lodging and food.

3. Photos! I didn't know about this and I definitely don't want to see my photo.

4. Immunizations! I'm almost getting used to being poked by needles. I got a typhoid, yellow fever, and heptatits A shot in two arms. Ouch. The typhoid began to ache in a lot of our right arms.

5. Language Test! An 80+ question Spanish exam to gauge our abilities. I think I did decently well on it. The oral exam is on Tuesday...

6. Open a bank account! I had to sign five times for my bank account. They had to be totally identical to my passport signature.

A federal officer from the U.S. Embassy came by to give us a presentation on safety. While it was helpful, he had a lot of stories about crimes committed in Ecuador (not necessarily against PCVs though). It's not meant for us to be paranoid, but just totally aware of what's going on and to avoid putting ourselves in the same position as those victims.

We had these amazing humitas for an after-lunch snack. They're basically sweet cornbread baked in banana leaves with a few giant raisins inside. I'm looking forward to more of those!!

For our last activity, we split into our two program groups - Natural Resource Conservation and Agriculture. I'm in NRC doing Environmental Education. We introduced each other, and I'm happy to say I took a small leap and did mine in Spanish. The worst part of the day: when the program leader said we're not allowed to go to Banos, which is the major town at the base of Tungurahua volcano that is currently erupting. Because I'm in communication with the Geophysical Institute and it would be with them that I go anywhere near the location, and I have experience around erupting volcanoes, I'm hoping to work out a dialogue between the two organizations. It would be a huge shame to not be able to volunteer my free time at the observatory.

Anyway, tomorrow at 11 a.m. we leave with our host families. I'm nervous! Excited, but so nervous. I hope they like me...