Un Techo Para Mi País

A few months ago, our younger sister experienced a weekend of volunteering with Un Techo Para Mi Pais (UTPMP) on the coast of Ecuador, and along with pictures and stories, the project came highly recommended. Erin also informed us via email that the South American NGO was hosting meetings in Cuenca to gather volunteers for a project in not-so-nearby Ambato. After some research, I asked Gareth, Tracy and my girlfriend, Maria, if they wanted to spend the 3-day holiday weekend doing something a bit out of the norm: building houses high up in the Andean mountains. We all happily, yet wearily confirmed, paid our fees ($25 per person) and curiously imagined what exactly we signed up for. And to put it lightly, we hadn’t a clue what we were getting ourselves into.

Drawing quite a bit of curious looks and stares, with borrowed sleeping bags, lightly packed packs, and some snacks for the weekend, we climbed onto the bus at 11:00pm, Thursday night, with our fellow (Cuencano) volunteers. The overnight bus would wind us through foggy mountain range after mountain range, for 8 hours, until we reached a small farming village just outside of Ambato proper.

Day 1

At 7am in the morning, with very little restless sleep, we arrived at our accommodations and make-shift headquarters for the weekend: a local elementary school. We were to mark our sleeping territory on the dirty, hardwood floor of one of many classroom that had been cleared out in anticipation of our arrival. The buses kept pouring in, bringing volunteers from every corner of Ecuador. There would be no rest time, though, as coffee and bread was being served, nourishment for the long day’s work that lie ahead.

With next to no sleep, even less food, and the crisp, foggy morning air, we were hurdled into a large mass of people where team leaders were assigned and groups were divided. With about 80 volunteers, 10 people per group would be building 8 houses for 8 different families over the next 2.5 days. After some finagling, Tracy and Gareth were placed together, as well as Maria and I, but our respective pairs were indeed separated, meaning we would not be swinging hammers together. After some pep talks and moral-boosting activities, groups were rushed off to pick-up trucks to head out to their sites.

Oddly, our family that had originally accepted the gift of a new house, had had a change of heart and decided they didn’t want/need it any more. This meant that we’d have to haul all of the previously placed building materials to a new site. And moving an entire house’s worth of lumber isn’t exactly a small feat. In fact, it took the better part of the morning to lift and transfer it all. I found myself already wiped out before we had begun to do anything towards our goal.

Our Family

The directors made a few phone calls, we drove around in circles, it was raining and freezing cold. Apparently there was another family that was considering a new home, but it hadn’t quite been confirmed soon enough. But with this new opportunity that had arisen, the mother accepted the offer and we set out to meet them and choose a nice spot on their land. We were told beforehand that the owner of the land is a mother of 8, many of which are from different fathers. We were also told that she had severe deformation of the face, and that she is quite nervous about our arrival due to her insecurities, and that we should be conscientious of this. Lastly, we were informed that due to her having mothered so many children from different men, she was all but shunned from her indigenous community, creating even more hardships for her and her family. This was obviously going to be quite a harsh situation we would be encountering.

Walking up steep, uneven farmland trails, we were finally introduced to the mother who carefully covered her face with scarves as she introduced herself and some of her children. We would later learn (and see) that the family of 9 shared two brick shacks with tin roofs, dirt floors, and no running water. Like many impoverished communities, they’ve managed to rig up electricity lines from the main roads, providing them with a single light and an extra outlet or a TV. Each habitation had a large bed in it, meaning that the family of 9 split the beds, 5 on one, 4 on the other. Other than beds, one encolosure had a gas burning stove that hooked up to refillable propane tanks, and a both small place in the corner for a fire, which is used to heat water and for warmth throughout the night. But with fire comes smoke, and with not chimney system, the shacks were incredibly smoky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Work Begins

While the other groups were well on their way to setting up their house’s foundation, we were hacking down weeds and trees, loosening up dirt and leveling land. Furthermore, the chosen plot was up a few tiers from the road, meaning we had to carry extremely heavy lumber (pre-assembled walls and floors) up rough terrain, both the land and weight offering painstakingly awkward positions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We worked until sundown, digging and cutting holes for the pillars and desperately trying to get them all even and leveled. With little skills and even worse materials from which to work with, I soon realized that even the slightest of tasks would require hard work and an abundance of patience. Our goal completed, the pillars were set and evened, high fives were had, photos were snapped, and tools were gathered. The carrying, lifting, digging and pounding had me exhausted beyond belief, though, and knowing a full day’s work was ahead of me, the pending soreness that would be arriving in the morning had me nothing short of frightened.

Despite the cold and rain, back at the school UTPMP insisted on rallying the troops for more moral-boosters, which were hardly that, since most of us just wanted to eat and sleep. After finally eating and sharing our respective stories from the day, we quickly learned that there were many people there that didn’t really come to work and catch a bit of sleep. This was like summer camp for them. Young university classmates came in groups, experienced with this project, and they were out to make the best of being away from momy and dady. There was no distinct “quiet time” and “party time” for them. Without a drop of alcohol, these kids were bouncing off the walls, singing, danicng, rallying troops, recruiting people for their games and make-shift karoake sing-offs. And while it is nice to see young people spending their weekend to help those less fortunate, their spirit was a bit overbearing at times. Furthermore, some of the younger and more immature (disrespectful) of the crowd, decided to stay up an hour or so after lights-out, chatting, joking, and lauging away the night, blatently ignoring the slew of “shushes” and “silencio por favors” coming from their fellow volunteers. And after the day’s work, when you’re stretched out over a cold, hard floor with no padding under your bag, dealing with this was nothing short of misery. I was having fantasies of pouring ice cold buckets of water all over them and their bags.

Day 2

Early rise, on again, little to no sleep and with dreadfully sore muscles, I pulled on my soaking wet, muddy running shoes, and hoped that the rain would let up, as I hadn’t many extra socks, nor did I have nice work boots. Coffee and bread was served and we climbed into the back of trucks for the wet and crisp ride to the construction site. Our goal for the day was to place the floor and erect the walls. The former went much smoother than the latter, as all that hard work to keep things level is tested as the walls rise. And when a bunch of amatures are working with rain-soaked wood, rain-saturated Earth and ancient tools, alignment is sure to fail. After some seriously crafty and resourceful handywork, the walls started to look flush, and finalizing nails were pounded into the floor. Lunch was served: rice and tuna — which were provided by the organization and prepared by Maria and our other team member in our family’s house — was especially delicious because our family offered us some potatoes. The small TV offered a blurry reception of the Champions League final game, a huge deal in Ecuador due to an Ecuadorian native that starts on Manchester United. How odd it seemed to be seeing aerial shots of the immaculate Wembly stadium, holding the world’s elite, from this tiny shack in the Andean Mountain ranges. Sitting on a dirt floor, hunched over my rice and tuna, I was trying to fathom how many people paid more for their prime seats to this game than this mother would ever make in her lifetime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After lunch, we again worked until sundown, starting the preliminary necessities to place the techo (roof) the next and final day. Without ladders, scaling the walls and hammering in awkward positions proved to be quite the dangerous and tiring feat. With time and patience we made good progress and felt we were set up nicely for wrapping things up the following morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As night fell on Day 2, it left me feeling equal parts motivated and defeated. All of my clothes were officially wet and there was no chance of them drying overnight. My feet were blistered and sore, hands cut up, and muscles useless. I was completely spent, and had nothing to look foward to but a sleeping bag on hard floors, with an inescapably noisy atmosphere and working in wet socks and clothes the next day. To drive moral down a bit further, the bathrooms were clogged, overflowing and in a state where you wouldn’t want to even come near them, let alone use them. Over 80 people with unfunctioning toilets. Number one could be done outside, number 2 was unthinkable.

But what makes experiences like these worthwhile is thier ability to help put things in perspective. Sure, we all get used to our cozy lives and we have legitimate concerns and complaints relative to them, but in the big picture, the vast majority of people couldn’t begin to understand the hardships these families, and people living in extreme poverty all over the world, endure. And participating in this project offered the uniqueness of enduring hardships that you’ve never dealt with before, while simultaneously seeing hardships that are far worse. It was as if we were made to experience a weekend in the family’s shoes, only our situation was a step up, and 72 hours later we’d return back to the developed world. Keeping these thoughts in constant mind and knowing we only had a roof to hammer on the next day, I was able to conjure up the motivation to stay (mostly) positive despite the abundance of annoyances and inconveniences. Another restless night, dreaming of no rain, no rain, no rain.

Day 3

The morning was misty, but showed signs of possible clearing. Maybe we would be blessed with a nicer day? Coffee and bread was quickly had, and the organizers tried mostly in vain to organize the troops for a last-day motivational speech. People finally gathered and a pep-rally ensued, reminding us why we were there and how to appropriately finish the job.

Midway through the roof setting and nailing project, the family brought us a bag of bread and hot herbal tea. Considering how little they have, it was a really sweet gesture, and thanking them, we happily took a short break. One person breaking with us was Juan, the oldest son of the children, who looked to be about 19. He was right in the mix throughout the project, constantly surprising and puting us to shame with his sheer strength. The kid could saw through anything twice as fast as the strongest of us, chuckling and blushing when we made remarks about his strength. The older daughters seemed to spend most of their day in the fields or tending to their youngest siblings, coming around to curiously check out the progress or give a hand with a small task. The mother was never too far off, doing what she could to help us between tending to her fields and family, but mentally, she always seemed a bit distant, insecure and shy.

With warmer weather and very little rain, the alignment and nailing of the tin metal roof and attachment of the doors and windows proved to be mostly painless, and before lunchtime, we finished with plenty of time to arrange the opening ceremonies for the family. UTFMP really proved themselves to be a standup organization with the attention to detail they provide for those whom they serve. We were given a bag, complete with a mini-piñata full of candy, some ribbon, confetti, balloons, and a lock/key for the front door. The inside was swept out and decorations hung. With all in place, the lot cleaned up, and a ribbon on the front door, the family was invited to come for the celebration. Standing in front of the house, our group leader explained to her that we “are simply people with a few more opportunities and we want to help those with a few less.” He went on for a bit longer, and as he choked up a bit, the rest of us did too. And as we watched the mother, as if wanting us to see fully her emotions, she lowered her scarves, untied the ribbon and unlocked the door with tears streaming down her face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We rushed the children into the house where we made a circle, clapping, dancing, throwing confetti and helping the children with the piñata. The children all gave us a hug, and the mother made her rounds as well. She looked me in the eye and thanked me, and through my broken Spanish I said, “it was a pleasure, good luck to you and your family, from me and my country.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For me, I couldn’t help but think that the mother’s willingness to hug, thank and pose for pictures with us without her scarves covering her deformities, symbolized a barrier between two very different worlds, had indeed, been broken.

 If you have been inspired by this blog, I encourage you to donate to UTPMP on their website, or stay up to date with future volunteer opportunities on their Facebook page.

Eight Months in Ecuador

Reaching the 8-month mark in Ecuador finds me in disbelief: where has the time gone? One would think that living in a place that offers so little seasonal signals of what time a year it really is, time would just drag, but strangely, I feel that it makes it fly. What month is it, anyways? Other than dealing with more rain than usual during this current wet season (only one of two that exists here), and the fact that I write the date on the board every day as I wait for my students to arrive, I really haven’t a “normal” clue as to where I am amongst the passing time, as I fast approach the one-year mark here at zero degrees latitude.

Thinking back at my first weeks with my host family in Quito, struggling through dinners with my painfully awful Spanish, compared to the long and almost painless conversations I can hold when I meet new locals these days, I feel that I’ve come a long way. Quito, aside from the people I met and the wonderful children I worked with, seemed to be a shit-show of stress and anxiety at times. I never felt fully content or settled there, feeling like it was just a stepping-stone to something grander. While Quito had a lot of wonderful things to offer and see, it isn’t a place I came to fall in love with.

Cuenca, however, I am quite in love with. Yesterday I had a long foot-journey home, walking from one end of Centro to the other, and found myself overwhelmed with contentedness and awe. What an almost perfectly quaint, charming and inviting city this is. At the 8-month mark in Beijing I can remember feeling a bit burnt out, desperately reaching out for the things I loved most about the city, culture and its people, clasping onto the better aspects of the experience to justify my staying longer. At the same milestone here, however, I find myself struggling to justify leaving.

A few months ago Ryan, the long-lost Winn-sib that so many of our friends were curious about, blessed us with a visit, having the opportunity to see Erin’s life in Quito (she’s since moved back to Seattle), and ours in Cuenca. We all took off on a journey to the coast of Peru, for some tranquil nights, stunning sunsets and a bit of debauchery. His trip coincided with Erin’s friend, Karina’s, and we were so happy to share our sib-South American adventure with her. Our fellow backpackers were quite impressed to see four siblings out exploring together, offering us endless “wow that’s so cool” and “I wish my siblings and I could do something like this” remarks, further cementing how special the experience really was.

We were also recently blessed to have our father, step-mother and step-sister come through, sharing with them a small taste of our lives here in Cuenca. We got to show them around town as well as join them for a few side-trips before they took off to explore the vast diversity of Ecuador, visiting more mountainous regions as well as a four-day excursion deep into the jungle. And as to be expected with one of the ‘rents comes into town, Tracy and I found our bellies being filled at all of our favorite restaurants, plus a few extras – we ate good during their stay 🙂

Tracy’s boyfriend, Gareth, has arrived after a long stint in China, and boy what a different environment he finds himself in. The poor guy keeps blurting out Mandarin when he attempts to speak the local tongue here, but after six long years in Beijing, that’s to be expected. It is pretty safe to say that he’ll pick up on Spanish in due time though. We’re excited to have another Gringo in the mix.

Because Tracy and I may have different future plans and itineraries, as well as us both having significant others now, I decided to take advantage of the small studio apartment upstairs opening up, and was pleased to be offered a good deal from our landlord, Luis, whom I’ve become friends with. An odd couple Luis and I are, 74 and 29 years old, respectively, but we manage to have a few laughs and enjoy a few beers together over a fútbol game down in his ground floor apartment. This is the first time in my life having my own pad, and I’m really enjoying it so far. The luxury of it all is being one flight of stairs away from Tracy, who I feared I woulda missed a bit too much if I would have moved to another neighborhood. Tracy, Gareth, Jon Stewart and I have been enjoying home-cooked meals over some downloaded Daily Shows, in T and G’s more spacious accommodations.

My studio apartment is actually quite spacious, complete with a stove, storage, full-sized bed, armoire, shower and sink. Being on the third floor, I’m afforded beautiful views of the Spanish Colonial rooftops, with the green, rolling mountains set behind. This place could easily go for $180 or so, I’m getting it for $150, all utilities completely included. Luis told me he’d cut me a deal, and in return I’ll help him find more foreigners to rent out his spaces in the future.

Our GoGo-Gringo.com endevour has just become a bit more exciting, as we finally went to a printing place and had some professional posters and flyers made. We’ll be working on promotion the next few weeks and are super curious to see where it takes us. In the event we create some buzz and traffic, we might just have to stick around and ride it out for a while 🙂 Time will tell. Overall, though, it has been a fun experience learning the ins and outs of webdesign, as well as exploring the city and its surroundings to write reviews and offer tips to fellow explorers.

Tentative future plans, as of now, will be to cramp down and study full-time, either at a formal school or with a private teacher for a month or so, starting in June, after our Mom and DT’s visit to Ecuador. I’d like to visit Columbia in August, while my friend is still living in Bogotá, come back to Cuenca for a bit, maybe make a bit more money, then take off to Brazil and Argentina before coming home. I may be home in time for Thanksgiving, where I’ll brave the Portland winter and decide on my next move. I plan on applying to some graduate programs, but feel quite intimidated by the process. It has been so long since I’ve been in school, that it is both thrilling and anxiety-inducing to imagine myself back in world of academics. I feel, however, my travels have really helped highlight my strengths and weaknesses, and have offered me insights and self-reflection I feel I could not have gotten any other way.

Yesterday in class, during a speaking exercise, the students had to ask/answer the question “What is the biggest problem in your life right now?” and many of them seemed to have some legitimately big problems or concerns that they are currently coping with. They, to no surprised, curiously turned the question on me and I found myself on the spot. And the thought that finally came into fruition? The biggest worry in my life right now is when/where I will travel soon, and when I should return to my wonderful country, city, friends and family. These are the privileges that should remind us all to keep things in perspective and inspire us to use our advantages to do something bigger than ourselves.

Missing you all,

Collin

Acclimation

It’s pretty safe to say that Tracy and I have almost fully acclimated to our new lives here in the charmingly beautiful Southern city of Cuenca, so I felt an update was due.   In the past three weeks we’ve successfully found a nice apartment, made some new local and gringo friends, started a new job, and gotten a feel for the life of a Cuencano.

Tracy and I are enjoying being back in the classroom, and we feel that our school, CEDEI, has lived up to its local reputation as a reputable institute.  The school both offers affordable English classes for the locals, as well as immersion exchange Spanish programs for foreigners.  In addition to language classes, it also offers salsa lessons to locals and foreigners alike.  The “Centro” location, which is only a 3-5 min walk from the front door of our apartment, is an extremely large building with seemingly endless crooks and crannies, capable of hosting all of said offerings simultaneously.  It is a lively atmosphere, buzzing with people from all over the world participating in/teaching their respective language/dancing classes.  There is a large courtyard with patio tables to relax in, which often doubles as an outdoor study area when the sun is out (there is hardly a shortage of warm sunshine in this city).  The top floor hosts a gigantic computer lab that is for both student and teacher use, with well over 20 computers.  The entire floor is covered by a glass ceiling, and due to said sunshine and it being on the third floor of the building, it usually feels like a greenhouse in there.  With many windows, though, a cool breeze is usually blowing throughout the lab.

Unfortunately, Tracy and I were both assigned classes in the “Sucrasal” (Spanish for satellite) campus, which is a solid 10 min walk from Centro, 15 from our apartment.  The walk, though, is quite nice, and due to Cuenca’s very walkable layout, we never have to take buses, ever, and thus save money and get awesome exercise every day.  Although I direly miss my bicycle at times, I’ve really learned to love and look forward to my walks to and from work.  Quito, by comparison, is not a very walkable city, unless you live in the Centro, and even then, buses and the Trole are an everyday part of life there.  We are SO happy to not have to deal with those loud, crowded, polluting buses on a daily basis.

Our students, overall, are quite hardworking, respective and appreciative of our services.  Yes, many of them (in the lower levels) are high school students, so not only are they young, but their parents force them to be there, so the dynamics of the classes can be quite challenging to deal with.  My Saturday class consists of university students and professionals, creating a much more exciting and workable atmosphere, in that they are paying to be there and have very realistic and tangible reasons to attend.  Tracy and I both have similar schedules (give one hour): M – Thurs from 3-6pm, and Saturdays we have one four-hour class from 8:30 to 12:30.  Yes, we only have three classes, and we re-teach the same level on Saturdays (which is great in terms of lesson planning), but because of the school’s very specific ciriculum and grading system (that we’re still learning), 20 hours a week in the classroom = 30 or more hours of work when considering prep-time and organization.  We are also responsible for giving quizzes, reading and writing assignments, and exams.  We have to grade assignments and give daily marks for almost everything. Luckily our school has a decent support system, both in terms of personnel and supplementary material, and also has reliable Internet, printers, and copy machines.  These amenities are clutch to have as teachers of ESL.

Although we are quite pleased with the school overall, our pay is extremely minimal, so we both find ourselves pretty stressed about money, especially after living purely off of savings while volunteering and living in Quito for three months.  We’ve decided to attempt to supplement our salaries by teaching online for a company that Tracy did editing work for in China, and I’ve been actively and somewhat successfully seeking out private students to tutor on the side.

Aside from fiscal stress, we are quite content with our decision to come here and look forward to exploring more that this city and area has to offer.

Our apartment is super nice and modern, with a hilarious 75-year old landlord, Luis, who lives below us.  Due to the layout of the apartments, we can hear him quite well down below, so much so that he can summon me down stairs to his apartment without even walking up and knocking on our door!  Of course, this isn’t the most ideal situation in terms of privacy, but since we are siblings, it isn’t a huge burden 🙂  Luis, a half-Italian Ecuadorian native, lived and worked as a dentist in Chicago for more than 20 years, and has two daughters from two separate (and terminated) marriages who live still live in the Windy City.  He owns property in the States, Cuenca, and Quito and consequently seems to be quite well-off.  His apartment below is immaculate, donning fancy furniture and art that he’s accumulated from his extensive world travels.  He speaks English, Italian, and Spanish fluently, and is on the prowl for a new lady in his life.  I helped him set-up an account on OKcupid, and after tireless efforts, he can now sign-into and access his OKcupid profile, and is actively speaking to about 6 chicas from different countries all over the world.  Our current project is getting him acquainted with Skype, as his potential lovas want to talk to him face-to-face.  There has been some memorable times of hilarity during these sessions, especially when he explains to me his preferred “types” of women, all the way down to the last detail.  “What does ‘full-figured’ mean?” he inquired.  “Well, Luis, it usually implies that they are fat, but they could be very curvy Columbian-type women, you never know.”  “Aiiiyaiiyaii, really?” he worriedly replied, “I don’t think I care for ‘full-figured ones.'”  Yes, I’ve developed a nice relationship with my new amigo downstairs 🙂

Our apartment is very centrally located, offering us ridiculous convenience to anything and everything we’d want.  We have wonderful fruit markets nearby, convenience stores galore, parks, plazas, cafes, pandarias, and theaters.  We’re not exactly near any Supermarkets, but we rarely need to go to those evil places 🙂 I’d say 90% of the time we cook and eat 3 meals a day at home, a mostly vegetarian diet, that consists of oatmeal with fresh fruit, soups, tuna sandwiches, fried eggs, potatoes, stir-fries, rice and pastas.  The costs of fruits and vegetables are so cheap here!  You can spend 3 or 4 bucks and come home with two LARGE grocery bags of produce.  Wonderfully delicious avocados are only 25 cents each — it would be criminal to not have one with almost any meal.  Tonight we’re getting a bit more daring and trying to prepare a local soup favorite: Locro con aguacate.

Nightlife here, while very existent, is already feeling a bit mundane.  It seems, that while there is a very large and diverse selection of dance clubs and bars, there’s only about 3 or 4 places that are frequented, and only about 2 that are frequented by the gringo crowd.  I’d like to try to make more effort to see what all is out there, as opposed to following the crowds, but with a tight budget, that is a very low priority.

I feel that my Spanish is still a bit stagnant.  I learn more and more every day and feel certain things clicking, and have been making some effort to do self studies at home.  I also now have two language exchange partners, which is turning out to be very helpful, and Tracy and I start our free Spanish lessons via CEDEI this month.  I’m definitely looking forward to that structure in my life.  With our pending Skype lessons and Spanish classes, my language exchange partners, private student(s), and three classes at CEDEI, my schedule is about to go from pretty chill to a bit hectic, but I think it will be good for me.

We have a little over a month before Carnival lands, our first time experiencing it, ever.  We’ve learned that Cuenca just so happens to be one of the most enthusiastic cities during the festival.  Not unlike anywhere else in SA, the tradition of throwing water on passersby (via buckets, water guns, balloons, etc.) is the big activity, and apparently they take this tradition VERY seriously.  Additionally we’ve been told that gringos tend to be favorite (see: easy) targets, and that it isn’t a bad idea to wear an extra layer of waterproof clothing (even if it is hot outside) while walking to work.  We’ve already heard of and seen premature water balloon launchings — the locs seem to be getting antsy.

But, unfortunately (fortunately?) we’ll be spending most of our time away from Cuenca for Carnival, as we’ve just booked a hostel in Mancora, Peru, one of the more famous surf spots in all of SA, and consequently a gringo/party paradise.  Being there for Carnival will undoubtedly be one for the books, as all four of the siblings will be reunited, with Ryan flying into Quito a week before Carnival!  Ryan will be joined by Karina, one of Erin’s closest friends, and the five of us will set off on a Peruvian adventure together!  Tracy and I are definitely counting down the days, and after three months at CEDEI, it will be a very well deserved break 🙂

I’ll try to take some pictures of our school/apartment/daily lives here and post with the next blog.

Hope all is well in gringo-landia and we miss and love you all.

Collin (and Tracy)

Tracy and I in our dining room, and yes, that is a huge display of an epic waterfall in the background

Un Techo Para mi País

One of the greatest advantages of having local friends is that they take you places where no gringo has ever gone before.  This weekend I had the opportunity to take part in one of those experiences that make you forget you were ever a tourist and instead make you feel like an actual part of the foreign country in which you find yourself living.

Mis queridos Nelson and Guillo invited my dear friend Laura and me to participate in a project called ´A Roof for my Country.´  It is an organization with chapters throughout all of Latin America that travels to communities living in extreme poverty to build homes from the dirt up with bare hands of  the volunteers.  We left Friday on the night bus to Manabí, a province on the northern coast of Ecuador, and only had the 8 hours on the bumpy road to try to sleep before starting to work as soon as we arrived Saturday morning.  We were divided into groups of 3 to 4 people, and assigned a plot of land to commence our construction.

We arrived the first day, three inexperienced kids with one leader, with shovels, hammers, screw drivers, measuring tape, and gloves, and saw this dirt lot that we were supposed to transform into a habitable home in just two short days.  The first day we laid the base for the house, and had a modest lunch of white rice and tuna with some of the members of the family that were going to live in the house when we finished.  Here is the progress we made after the first day:

My group received the help of just about every kid in the neighborhood, and we soon realized that a childhood in the town of Pueblitos, Manabí is a drastically different reality than the one we knew as children.  This boy in the picture below, 10-year-old Andel, proudly informed us that he was already part of a gang, and insisted that we only call him by his street name.  When we told him we lived in Quito, he asked us what the beaches were like there… I, as a foreigner in his country, had to inform him that his country´s capital, in fact, is in the sierra and has no beaches.

Some other children from the neighborhood watched with extreme fascination as one of my companions applied sunscreen.  They continued to stare at him until one kid finally asked him what it was.  He explained to them that it prevented sun burns, and he put a drop in each of their hands.  They were still so dumbfounded that one of the boys put his portion of sunscreen in his hair!

After our first day of work, we returned to the school where we were camping out for the night, more exhausted and more incredibly dirty than I have ever been in my life!  We washed ourselves with baby wipes, set up our beds, and deliriously played some games with the rest of the volunteers before heading to bed.

The next morning we woke up at the crack of dawn, still exhuasted, but anxious and excited to finish constructing our homes.  We had until 7:00PM that evening to finish every detail of the house– lift the walls, attach the windows and the doors, nail on the roof, and then decorate the inside to have a mini-fiesta with the family at the end.  By the afternoon, the weather was sticky and close to 30 degrees, the mosquitoes  were fully enjoying having some new blood to feast on, and every part of our bodies were aching.  Our motivation to finish was knowing how grateful the new inhabitants of the house would be in the end.  It was so exhilarating to watch the house come together little by little, and to watch the faces of the family light up more and more as they observed our progress.

So, we continued on until finally the moment came to tie the ribbon on the front door and hand the señora her new set of keys!

Still in shock that we had actually built a roof to put over the heads of these sweet peoploe, we excitedly entered the house and celebrated with the family and their friends from the neighborhood.

Here I am with the two other members of my group, the family who will live in the house, and their friends.

Well, I can honestly say that it was one of the most challenging weekends of my life… after what my body went through, it even hurts my hands a little to type out this blog right now!  But it is such a gratifying feeling to know that we contributed to building one more techo over the heads of one of the countless families who are in need of shelter, in Ecuador and all over the world.  If you would like to find out more about the organization, here is their website: http://www.untechoparamipais.org/ Hell, if I can do it, any of you can do it!!!

Besos,

Erin

Joey y Ander

It was love from the first moment Tracy and I met our hermanitos. Joey looked up at us with his big black eyes, his oversized baseball cap falling forward on his face, and asked us through his missing two front teeth, “Quieren jugar futbol?”

There is never a dull second when you share a house with a seven-year-old boy and a five-year-old boy. They are always causing some sort of ruckus, but even when it wakes us up in the wee hours of the morning we can’t ever get upset… Just one look at their shining faces forces your mouth to instantly turn into a smile.

You never know what to expect during meal time with our familia. Sometimes Ander is so exhausted from the day’s shenanigans that he literally falls asleep on top of his food. One night, the boys showed up at the table and sat down like everything was normal, when all of a sudden our madre exclaimed “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOUR HAIR?!” Tracy and I looked over to discover that the boys had cut each other’s hair with the scissors they were playing with earlier that evening… the result looked a little something like this:

The two of them seem to have little in common– besides their mutual love of Michael Jackson, that is. Joey is usually running around outside, messing around with the other kids in the neighborhood, while Ander prefers to stay inside and watch a movie or play with his cat. Joey loves to study English, while Ander proudly proclaims that Spanish is his preferred language. But we discovered early on that the two of them absolutely idolize the king of pop. On one of our first nights in our house with our familia ecuatoriana, we all snuggled up to watch This Is It, the Michael Jackson documentary, in Spanish. The boys have every song memorized, and they give Señor Jackson a run for his money with their dance moves. Think I’m kidding? Check out their moves in the videos below!:

Love,
Erin

Goodbye Quito

On Quito:

I arrived, 9,000+ feet up in the Andean mountains with a clean slate, empowered with high hopes that maybe I can create some kind of change in some unknown people’s lives. I would be “teaching English” to street children, interacting with people whom I most likely couldn’t fully empathize with. I’d need to learn how to approach these new tasks with humility, sensitivity, and open-mindedness. I’d also be living with complete strangers whom I couldn’t fully communicate with. I’d be waking up early every morning, taking unfamiliar public transit all over an unfamiliar city, in a rush to get to “work” on time, putting 100% into tasks and hard work I wouldn’t be materialistically compensated for. I’d be struggling with the local language, learning new greetings, farewells, gestures, do’s and don’ts, taboos and dangers. No, this wouldn’t be China, a completely upside-down world where absolutely nothing makes sense, but this would be new territory, new challenges, and a new kind of patience to learn and overcome.

Three months later has arrived. Christmas has come and gone, the Año Nuevo has passed. While abroad, time flies, people come, people disappear, cheers are had, tears are shared, profound relationships are made, followed by a confusing and sometimes awkward good-bye that neither party can fully grasp. OK, you go back to your reality, I stay in this temporary one, maybe we cross paths again? Wait, yes, I promise we will. And, good-bye.

Worlds collide, lives synchronize, lines blur, what’s next? Well, we surely couldn’t leave now, right?

Scraping by, asking for assistance, where will I be in one simple week from now? Guidance and support are graciously offered and given, love is felt, tranquila — we push on.

Three months has arrived. I’m pushing 30 and that tacky biological clock ticks at the back of my mind. I can remember 10 short years ago, meeting the travelers, the vagrants, the rootless, the multi-linguists who had a grasp on things I couldn’t but fathom. I envied these people, whether or whether not they had shirts on their backs, shoes on their feet. What was it like, I’d wondered, to have that under your belt? What else is out there? What am I missing? Surely this life has more variance and meaning than a picket fence and track-housing – right?

As it turns out, it does. There couldn’t be anything more fascinating than the very species I’m part of, the very world I was fortunate to be brought upon. Some turn to the cosmos, science, some to a god of some sort, others to procreation and family life. And, to each their own, but I think I’ve found my niche. Ironically, my “found niche” is exactly not that, for my niche is impermanent, it is the quest for a new place, a new people, a new something. And I find myself convincing myself that this lifestyle is, just-quite-alright. Who’s to say it isn’t, besides my own self-speak and the norms and conscious that challenge it?

“What was China like?” people’d curiously inquire upon my return. And what could I really say? It wasn’t home, it was wild, it was awesome. “Man,”they’d say, “if I could take it all back, I’d have traveled a lot more when I was your age.” Well, I may have got a late start, but I never want to be that guy.

Sure, traveling isn’t for everyone, the same way baking isn’t, baseball’s not, nor marathons aren’t. And that’s OK. But it is, I’ve learned, for me. We send blogs and pics of our highlights, but rarely the lowlights. Being abroad is far from easy. There are daily challenges, inconveniences, and sights that I know for a fact that a lot of people in my life couldn’t handle for a minute, day, let alone a month. Whether it is not being able to put used-toilet paper in the toilet, never having consistent hot water for bathing, the inability to wear a purse or wallet in public, having plumes of bus exhaust constantly blown in your face, not trusting a single taxi driver or person on the street, or seeing the poorest of the poor beg on the filthy, rainy streets, it is not, by any means, a life of epic adventures of swimming in waterfalls and surfing in December. But one’d be surprised how much one can endure, or better yet, how much one allows oneself to endure. At times it can feel masochistic, while others, euphoric. So what’s the ultimate goal? For now, the dream is to combine said passion for being amongst the unfamiliar with helping the underprivileged, and finding a way to make a living doing so.

And like everything else in life, hard work and determination must be practiced to fulfil a dream, a goal, a career.

A new year has landed, and all clichés aside, I look forward to the cleansing feeling one can get from the turn of the dial. Quito has been good to me on many more levels than I may wish to admit. On the surface, I haven’t fallen in love, but beneath, it has strengthened me in undeniable ways. I’ve been touched by people, strangers, children, families, foundations, fellow volunteers and travelers. These cross-cultural and interpersonal experiences have, in part, made me who I am today, this moment, and tomorrow.

I say good-bye to a city, a people, and my beautiful sister, Erin. I don’t permanently say good-bye to any of these, but they will all obviously be hard to leave behind for unique reasons. Erin, my baby sister, who by default I had been somewhat distanced from (with her growing up, studying in Seattle and Spain, while I pursued my own separate goals) grew-up in a blink of an eye. And, by “grow-up” I mean blossomed into one of the most magnificent humans I know. Part of the reason she has chosen to stay longer in Quito, I’d argue, is because there are large numbers of locals who, quite simply, refuse to see her go. She’d like to believe it is the other way around, but rest assured, it will be hard for her to ever leave, as anyone who has been lucky enough to become acquainted with her will be very reluctant to let her go without a fight. And nor is it easy for me to let her go.

Erin is diamond in the rough. She’s bubbly and positive in the face of the most dire and challenging situations. She’s been the rock. She’s been my rock. I’m always the first to get grumpy and impatient when shit hits the fan, and she’s immediately there, in my face, reminding me of how much worse it can be, always putting things into perspective: things will be OK, this is just a moment in time. And I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every moment with her, and cannot honestly imagine this city, trip, country, experience, life, void of Erin. She is a magnet, a beacon of light, a role-model for her older brother. She has blossomed, and I know she will continue to do so into whatever her beautiful heart desires.

I’ve now had the privilege of rocking two countries/continents with two different sisters, and thus have seen how wonderful each of them are in their separate ways. My experiences with Tracy in China mirror those thus far with Erin here. How blessed and proud could an older brother be to live in wild and alternative worlds with his younger sisters, and see them both at their best and worst? We’ve shared, arguably, too many things together, and most definitely know FAR too much about each other, and I really wouldn’t have it any other way. I know they, without a doubt, would often times have it many other ways, so I thank them for dealing with my me-ness.

Volunteering for a long-term stint really changed me in many ways. Our foundation was tiny and thus challenged on many fronts. Sometimes the volunteers bore the brunt of UBECI’s shortcomings, but I feel that we collectively overcame the challenges we were faced with. There could be nothing more fulfilling than working with children, especially los niños that come from impoverished lives. Coming from your incredibly different world and entering their lives for a short two hours a day, it is difficult to see the tangible effects of your presence, of your work. But it was the little things that made it worthwhile: smiles on their faces and watching them slowly improve their tiny English vocabularies. Ultimately, the children have inspired me to do more work in this field, and have provided me further insights on what my niche in this field might just be.

So, thank-you Quito. Thank-you amigos ecuatorianos. Thank-you staff of UBECI. Gracias a los niños. Thank-you volunteers from the far corners of the world who helped make working under sometimes heartbreaking conditions a little easier, and thus partly restoring faith in this thing we call humanity. Thank-you host families. Thank-you co-workers and students. Thank-you friends, family, and our awesome brother back home for the love, emotional and financial support, and donations. Thank-you children of the streets and markets who taught me resilience and humility. Thank-you, my sisters, for inspiring me. Gracias Quito, I will see you again, pronto.

Con amor,
Collin

The Shopping Spree

Yesterday, mine and Tracy’s second to last day in Quito, the girls and I went to “Megamaxi” (Ecuador’s answer to WalMart, please don’t judge us) armed with around $900 to spend on the children of UBECI. Of course, we knew we’d never be able to spend that much money in one outing, but we were determined to the best we could and use the money as wisely as possible. Luckily, Megamaxi has just about anything you could imagine, but in the spirit of frugality and in need of a few things that MM didn’t offer, we opted to try a few more shops nearby as well.

Braving the crowds on the Sunday after New Year’s Day in shopping malls and supermarkets wasn’t exactly thrilling, but walking around and filling two grocery carts with masses of much-needed supplies for the impoverished children of Quito was super cool! We joked that we could just walk down the isles, arms extended, pushing items into our carts. And in some cases, we got to do exactly that. We filled our mobile bins with plethoras of markers, pens, pencils, puzzles, glues, playdoh, toys, erasers, paper, notebooks, pen/pencil bags, boardgames, coloring books, children’s books, sports equipment, sanitary supplies, vitamins, sunblock, tarps and a very desperately needed new tent (cabana).

All said and done, three stores and four hours later, we spent roughly $521.00 USD. This leaves us with another $430.00 USD to donate directly to the organization for overhead and program costs!

Today, we took a taxi to the foundation with all the supplies and had a formal meeting with the directors and the entire staff (of 4). We told them how we went about raising the money, why people decided to give, why we wanted to help more, and offered them some of our constructive criticisms of our experiences with UBECI. To some of our criticisms they were not the most receptive, even a bit stubborn, but in the end, we got our points across and promised we would continue to fundraise and support them. Overall, dropping off the loads of supplies for them and sharing with them our positive and negative experiences during our stay felt really really great. It offered some closure for us, as we start a new chapter in our Ecuadorian lives.

We can’t thank all of our donors and supports enough, as you are the ones who made this all happen! I can hardly wait to hear how the kids react to all the new goodies and necessities they will be encountering as early as tomorrow.

Santa Clause came to town a bit late this year:

With love and admiration,
Collin, Tracy and Erin

¡Feliz Navidad!

Merry Christmas Eve from the highlands of Ecuador!

It is currently sunny, warm, possibly close to 70 degrees outside, but per usual, there are threatening rain clouds creeping over the beautiful green rolling hills of Quito, which will inevitably bring chilly showers tonight. We will be nestled and sheltered safely from the impending downpours in the Colonial House Hostel, the hostel that we all stayed at our first week in Quito — yes, indeed, we have quite literally came full-circle here in Quito.

As we trace this circle, walking around Centro Historico district together, we’ve discussed sites, smells, plazas, foods, people, and buildings we saw here as Quito-virgins, young and naive, a short three months ago. And while time flies while living abroad, when looking back at all we have been through, done, and seen, it seems like an eternity. Not only have we had the privilege of backpacking through the vast majority of this country of unparalleled geographic diversity, we had the opportunity to live, work with, and get to know intimately its people. Like any country or city, there are not-so-desireble places or people, but overall, we’ve been humbled and impressed by the hospitality and kindness of the Ecuatorianos. And, not unlike speaking to any traveler, we each have our own very distict and unique experiences and overall opinions of Quito.

I would argue that Erin’s advanced knowledge of the local language has provided here with an extremely different experience and perspective. It has allowed for her to know the people more intimately and make quick and wonderful relationships. She hasn’t had to deal with the everyday annoyances of language barriers, and her warm, bubbly, and inviting personality is one in which almost anyone who comes into contact with her falls in love with, instantly. To further demonstrate this reality, she is currently working at a hostel in exchange for free room and board, for a lady that only knew her for one week previous, who didn’t even hesitate to hire her. Tracy and I now get to sleep in, lounge around the hostel, while we watch Erin greet and charm travelers from around the world (in English and Spanish), checking them in and giving them a crash-course on Quito, all the while Ornilia (who speaks no English) has extra time to attend to other duties around the hostel.

Tracy and I, especially after living in Beijing, are ready to live somewhere a bit smaller, quieter, cleaner, and more tranquil. After visiting Cuenca and being offered a job, it seems like the perfect move. Cuenca is far from tiny, nor is it the quietest city in Ecuador, but it is vastly more of what we are looking for when compared to Quito. So in about a week, Tracy and I will be frantically house-hunting and preparing to work for a very notable, legit English school, while Erin continues to settle in to her new life in Quio, and continues on with the life she has already established.

Last night, after very surprisingly finding the proper ingredients, we made eggnog from scratch with our mother’s favorite recipe and shared it with our favorite local family in their restaurant. It was a hit, and some of us enjoyed spiking it a bit with some cheap local Rum 🙂 Tonight we are contributing a few traditional Estados Unidos dishes to a x-mas dinner with Ornila and her family, here at the hostel. I am sure we will be joined by some other family-less travellers, which should make for a very wonderful and unique x-mas dinner.

Lastly, I would like to share some exciting news with you all. As you know, we started an online-donation campaign a month ago, via email and facebook. We were very pleased to have raised about $350 from various donors! Additionally, the email-letter we sent out was printed out by our mother and snail-mailed to an old friend of hers (who is elderly and doesn’t use email) with the intent of showing him what we were up to and possibly inspiring a donation. Well, a few weeks later, our mother received a letter in the mail with a check for $1000! When we received the email notifying us of this we were blown away. One hundred dollars goes VERY far here. We were hoping to raise, at best, a few hundred dollars, but successfully raised $1350. We have decided to donate $500 of this on Kiva.org, and the remaining will go towards UBECI. Part of the remainings will be used for a shopping spree that we will partake in next week, buying very much needed supplies for the children’s every day use. The other part will be a cash donation to the foundation itself, helping them with their shoe-string budget they use for labor and overhead.

Last night on my way home I saw an indigenous family of four, sitting in the pouring-cold rain, trying to sell candy, gum and cigarettes to passers-by for 25 cents. The entire family was huddled together for warmth, it was almost midnight, none had any waterproof or warm clothes. Earlier that day I was in a fancy supermarket complaining about how crowded and chaotic it was.

It is so important to keep things in perspective. Even living here and seeing such things daily, it is something I constantly struggle with. So in light of the holiday season and holiday spirit, we want to thank you all for the support you have given us, whether it is encouraging phone calls, emails or skype dates. Whether it is small and supportive comments on our blogs or simply your friendships and advice. Whether it was a small or large cash donation pre or post departure to Quito….it has all made a difference, and it is all helping extremely needy children and their families here in Ecuador.

We love and miss you all! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Collin, Tracy, and Erin

Sand, Surf, and (Some) Sun

 

View from our $3.50 per night hostal

We’ve been lucky enough over the past month to do some extensive traveling around Ecuador, as you all know, and I have spent quite a bit of that time at the coast. I’ve been to the small beach towns of Ballenita, Montañita, and Canoa; also one brief (and yet too long) trip to a larger pueblo called Puerto Lopez. Unfortunately (and inexplicably) no one told us that the coast is basically cloudy every day from September through December, the only months we’ve travelled to the beaches. Despite the gloomy skies, the weather is comfortable and balmy, and you can still catch some of the equator’s harsh rays. Sometimes the sun breaks through the clouds, teasing you with the glory you know Ecuador’s coast exudes during the high season.

The weather and scenery change quite drastically between inland cities and the coastal towns, among other stark contrasts. The comida is noticeably different, with cheap, fresh, and abundant seafood available at every open air restaurant lining the sea. I’ve had the pleasure now of trying ceviche, and my life will never be the same. A chilled, fresh bowl of ceviche de camerones accompanied by a hot plate of homemade plátano chips makes life worth living.

Another difference encountered a la playa is the people—their style, mannerisms, dialect, and slang are markedly different from Quitonians. We’ve found that the coastal people are definitely more open, much more talkative, and more direct than those in the bigger cities. This proves to be both good and bad; the former because socializing and going out is quite fun, the latter because as a gringa some local guys can be quite annoying. In addition to the local gente, the coast also allows one to mingle and meet other travelers from all over; South Americans and Westerners alike. Some of our most absolute favorite fellow travelers we’ve met at the beach– from hilarious platinum blond Canadian surfers to silly Argentineans and Brazillians. Despite our varying backgrounds and histories, we all share special commonalities: a love for travel, a love for the beach, a love for making connections with perfect strangers, a love for expanding our views of the world and all the amazing people in it.

Montañita, a very small town known for surfing and socializing, I’ve visited twice now. Montañita provided us with a few things wehad yet to encounter in Ecuador, namely, house music (!!), hippy culture, and an overpowering sense of working to live, rather than living to work– never forgetting that a party is only a

Typical 'street' in Montanita

few blocks and a few hours away. While the lazy days and the long nights are too much for some, others literally drop everything they are doing to shack up and stay for years at a time, if not life. There, the lack of cars, noise (other than music), pollution, and, well, responsibility, is alluring for some, appalling for others. Erin was ready to leave after spending 3 days there; I was ready to set up shop. In all reality, I could not see myself living there for a long period of time, but I imagine the draw of moseying around a small surf town for me was born from living in a city as big and crowded as Beijing for 2 years, and a pervasive longing for the beach, after nearly 7 years in San Diego. There is no saying where I will end up after our job in Cuenca comes to a close, but the idea of setting up a daily schedule of studying Spanish, volunteering, working, and surfing under the Ecuadorian sun sounds like a dream come true.

Which brings me to surfing. Part of my recent obsession with the coast is that I finally gave surfing another shot after only one half-baked attempt in San Diego.

Surfing in Canoa

Erin and I were offered “free” surf lessons in Canoa—I shockingly caught the first wave and was immediately addicted. The waves aren’t very big right now down here–perfect for beginners–and alongside a coach and a few pointers, I found the sport to be surprisingly achievable. I have no illusions that I am actually a good surfista (or even a surfista in the slightest) but the idea that with some more practice I could be a decent surfer is very real and very exciting. I took one more class in Montañita last week; the waves being slightly larger & more powerful than in Canoa made me realize how much work I have to do. I went out sin teacher on my last day in Montañita, definitely got thrown around & tired out, but the waves I did successfully catch left me with a feeling of exhilaration that far outweighed any frustrated feelings and the aching of my tired and bruised body.

While playing all things by ear, as always, don’t be surprised if you find the future me spending the time between life and social responsibilities surfing and soaking up the sun by day and playing guitar, singing around bonfires, and dancing by night. Esa es la vida.

 

-T

Long Distance Autobúses

Anyone who has traveled via bus in a developing country knows that there ain’t nothing like a rickety, rockety, jankety, jerkity bus ride on unpaved roads. We’ve now logged countless hours on long distance buses all around Ecuador, even though the country only has a land mass comparable to Nevada. It is pretty amazing that for $3-$10 a ticket you can hop on a bus in a big city like Quito, and 3-9 hours later find yourself in the jungle, at the coast, or in various other spots in the gorgeous Andes. While the actual money you pay is very minimal, the other prices you pay certainly add up.

First of all, there is the condition of the buses and the roads. Sometimes you get lucky and end up on a new, nice, clean bus– other times you are just waiting for the thing to break down. The roads here are hardly ever paved outside the major cities, and drivers never take any turn slowly, even on the tops of mountains in the pitch black nights.

Secondly, you have the other passengers. Man oh man, we have encountered some “special” people on the buses. On our first long bus trip to Baños, just as we pulled out of Quito a clown got on board. Yes, a clown.. full face paint, crazy clothing.. the whole nine. And anyone who knows me well, knows how I feel about clowns. However, the winner of the “Most Special Passenger Award” goes to a man Erin and I had the pleasure of meeting on a bus from the coast. He got on the bus with a boombox, BLASTING the WORST music ever. And it was 7:30 in the morning. He sat down behind Erin and I, next to a few of our friends. Our sweet friend Ana politely asked him if he’d mind turning it down or off, since we were all trying to sleep. He completely ignored her. Finally, when HE decided HE wanted to sleep, he shut it off and passed out. Erin and I woke up a bit later because something was hanging over our heads. Our favorite passenger was sleeping with his face on the back of our seats, with his big arms hanging over. We had one of his arms laying across each of our heads; his disgusting long, cocaine pinky nails on display. Unbelievable. Luckily our friend Matt woke him up and asked him to please move his arms. He then fell back asleep against Matt, who then had to move to another seat.

Thirdly, you have the bus “stops”. Someone wisely informed me that there are “no such thing as express buses in Ecuador.” Never pay extra for a ‘direct’ or ‘express’– it won’t happen. Even though we always go to legitimate bus terminals and pay upwards of $8-$10 for a “direct” bus to another city, the buses will stop for anyone and everyone along the way. A lot of times it is vendors, coming on for only a few minutes to try and sell their wares. Other times it is people just jumping on to go from one small town to the next, or even just down the road a bit. You literally can’t count the amount of stops you make– if you are on a bus for 8 hours, you must make at least 100 stops. Por lo menos.

Fourthly, you have the movies. On our first trip, we thought the fact that there was “in-flight entertainment” was kind of nice. We watched “Julia’s Letters” or some cheesy chick flick like that. It was in Spanish, it was lame, but it passed the time. Little did we know we had gotten really lucky on that bus ride. Every single trip since, the movies have gotten progressively worse. Every time we think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, it does. Now, in a land of $1 DVDs, where you can get any DVD your heart desires, the bus operators manage to find the most obscure, most annoying, worst quality movies in the history of film-making. I am not exaggerating. On one bus ride, we watched a Kung-Fu movie that took place in Japan, was dubbed in Spanish and was made cerca de 1980. And they always have the volume on full blast. Even on the overnights. The winner of the “Worst Movie Ever Played on a Bus Ride Award”, however, goes to the movie on our overnight trip to Tena. This bus ride, in fact, takes the cake for “Worst Bus Ride Thus Far in Ecuador”, so allow me to elaborate.

We boarded the bus around 8 pm, with about 6 hours ahead of us. We were pretty exhausted and dirty, for we had just come out of the jungle that day. After only about 20 minutes, we come to a full stop (not unusual) and everyone starts to get off (unusual). We ask what is going on, and a man tells us that everyone needs to get off to show ID. Then he says, “Or maybe you can just stay on. Yeah, just stay on.” We do, until a man in full camouflage & combat boots who is carrying a machine gun gets on and asks us to get off. Si señor! We take our passports to a small booth and talk to the military for a minute, then they let us get back on.

We drive along for about 5 more minutes, then pull off onto a small dirt road in a small neighborhood. And come to a full stop again. No announcements were made, no one had any idea what we were doing. After a few minutes, we hear a commotion coming from above. We pull the curtains open to see what is going on: the driver, the attendant, and another man are carrying furniture onto the roof of the bus! We watch in complete wonderment as chairs, TVs, boxes, and other household items are strapped to the top. After 20 minutes of this, they all 3 get on board; the man pays $25 to the attendant. So this man had made under-the-table arrangements with these guys to move house to Tena, on our ‘direct/express bus’. None of the locals on the bus with us even batted an eye.

Then came the movie. They turned the TVs on, Collin said what he always says as it queues up: “Wait for it…..” It was an old American Western, of bad quality (of course), poorly dubbed in Spanish (of course), and was on at full blast (of course). The speakers (always very poor quality) could not handle the sounds of the movie, especially at that high of a volume. They clamored and clanked with every gunfight and bar fight. But the worst part of it all was the antagonist’s laugh. They had dubbed his evil laugh, which he did a lot, and dubbed it horribly. We all tossed and turned, his evil laugh creeping into our heads and dreams.

I’ll end with a word of advice to our readers: if you ever find yourself on a long distance bus in Ecuador, bring your iPod with noise cancelling headphones and a lot of patience, never pay extra for an ‘Express Bus’, and sit far away from the TVs. Yet don’t forget to enjoy the beautiful scenery passing you by and the saved money in your pocket!

-T