On Sunday, I woke up early after a tame night of listening to salsa music in an overpriced bar in the Mariscal Sucre district, aka the nightlife (or farra) area, aka Gringolandia, with around eight people from my program. I'd say it was a successful first night out. I met up with Allie, Becka and Becka's host mother to go to Quito Antiguo, the historical center. It was a beautiful day and we got to see several of the churches (more on this later).
For lunch, the entire family was over at my house, mainly Consuelo's side. I tried to keep up with the huge crowd and the Spanish, but mostly I found it easier to play with the kids, including AnaPaola, my four-year-old "niece," who I'd become good friends with on Friday after meeting her parents (my "sister" and "brother-in-law," who happens to come from a Shuar indigenous background) and brother. One funny coincidence was that Jimmy, a "cousin," had picked up our CIMAS group from the airport last weekend and is the boyfriend of Dr. Suarez's daughter. It was all good practice, although a bit much for my first weekend in Quito, and I ended up slipping out the door to meet Becka and Allie at Honey Honey, an overpriced cafe a few blocks from my house, after being walked by Consuelo, her mother, and another young "cousin," of course.
The following morning, after trying to convince Consuelo that I was perfectly capable of walking the half-hour to CIMAS myself, I decided to just let my mama be my mama and let us have some bonding time if if would make her feel better to accompany me. All of our families are very protective of us, particularly the girls, and we're told to always take taxis in groups, and never to walk alone or ride the bus after dark, but this was broad daylight. I tried to explain that I was used to walking, cities, and public transportation (having ridden the subway to preschool and been raised by parents who never drove to work), but Quito certainly is a different world. Pedestrians, we were told in the fist material we ever received, do not have the right of way, to say the very least. Our somewhat macabre joke is not to become a blue heart in the street, which are painted onto the pavement at points where people have been killed by oncoming cars, of which we've seen a small handful already.
That day, we had an amazing lecture on Ecuador's recent political economy, which has been shaky in recent years but people find great hope in Rafael Correa, the new left-wing president. Profesor Paz y Mino, a lawyer and political/historian type and my favorite professor at the moment, pointed out that Ecuador is a pais full of contradictions: it is beautiful and geographically and biologicially diverse, not to mention fairly peacefully culturally diverse - Correa even speaks Kichwa (more on this below). Despite its eight governments in the last ten years, the political instability hasn't turned into violence: the key word in civil unrest, as I kept pointing out to people like Dad and Mr. Drillings before I left, is civil. The economy is now dollarized and while cheap, it certainly isn't even the cheapest in Latin America (Argentina easily beats Ecuador's prices) and they export plenty of goods like oil, flowers, seafoood, and bananas; Colombians and Peruvians emigrate here because salaries are better. However, Ecuadorians also tend to immigrate to Spain or los EEUU, in fact, money from expats is the #2 source of income here. It will be interesting to see how Correa evolves as the great white hope of Latin American leftism as he's trying to be everybody's friend, from Castro to Chavez to Bush. He has so much popular support that even Congress can't override him for fear of an uprising. But plenty of people are still suspicious. "In this country," Consuelo said to me, "we are used to being deceived by the government. What you think you're fighting for, or who you think you're fighting with, isn't always what you think." On my first night, Angelica told me she was also concerned about the future of Ecuador if Correa goes the way of Lula or Evo Morales. "Michele Bachelet is a good socialist," she said, "and she isn't alienating anyone. If we seem too communist, all the rich will leave for Spain or the United States and we'll have nothing." Which I certainly don't disagree with. Part of the reason I came here (and to Argentina as well) was to try to understand the politics from an actual Latin American perspective, since so much of the structure and issues are different from ours.
We then had our first discussion-style classes on our pre-departure readings about globalization, development, culture, communication, adaptation, the development industry, and Ecuador in general, which I think sums up our course material for the first half of the semester. A brief word about the class structure: we are technically taking three classes during the first seven weeks of the semester and then the internship during the final six counts as the fourth. However, "development theory" and "Ecuador as a case study" have clearly melded into one and we have a revolving door of Ecuadorian professors from a variety of disciplines. Ruth Gordillo, whose background is in philosophy, helped moderate a dicussion that was eye-opening for the first day. Surprisingly, I found myself defending and at the very least trying to explain American cultural values of capitalism, free-market economies, the "freedom to choose," and neoliberalism. While I, and I'm sure many of the other students, found her stubborn and opinionated, I think it will be a good challenge for me to think about where I stand on some of these issues both as an American and a quasi-socalist Latin Americanist (and not a cultural fetishist as we discussed in a later class). I even felt okay about presenting my topic in front of her and the whole class, which usually makes me pretty nervous.
We have also started Spanish class, which is more structured. There are seven girls in my section, taught by a serious but friendly woman named Cristina. We also had a day with another professor who taught us, among other things, the influence of the Kichwa language in the Andean region. Kichwa, or Quichua, is different from the Quechua spoken in Peru. I was really surprised to learn that exclamations such as "ayayay" come from Kichwa, as well as words I had already heard my upper-class mestiza family use, such as ñaña for "sister," "guagua" for "baby," and "achachay" when it's cold. My family and friends here laugh when I try to use them, but Ecuadorians do, so why not?
Okay, enough of the acadmemic stuff. We returned to el centro historico with school on Friday, and at the Basilica del Voto Nacional, I climbed some of the highest towers in Latin America.
Basilica del Voto Nacional in "Old Town," or el Centro Historico.
The whole MSID Spring '07 group inside.
The Virgin of Quito, visible from many points.
Quito is obviously a mountainous city, and a long one, but it's not very wide: from the valley you're always surrounded by mountains.
Local schoolchildren whose teachers guided them in an impromptu musical performance for us. Possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen.
On Friday, Grinnellians Becka, Allie, Alex and our Minnesotan friend Grace decided to just get pizza and a beer in Allie/Becka's neighborhood (fairly close to mine) and watch a movie. It was very college: squeezing five people into a small bedroom onto one bed to watch a DVD on a computer sitting on a chair. Walk the Line, as well as the company, were a familiar escape from a tiring week.
On Saturday, I attempted a run to the nearest centro comercial (mall) for a few extra passport photos and light grocery shopping. I love being outside here, particularly in the mornings. Obviously, it's warmer here than anywhere I'd be in the US now (60-70 degrees during the day), nowhere near as humid as DC summer, and despite being so close to the clouds, it's just sunny enough. However, the hills are a bit much after walking up and down them all week, so I think I'll need to plan for a more flat area next time. Really, though, after climbing the Basilica, hiking in the mountains, and just getting around Quito, a person's feet get tired.
Later that afternoon, Grace, Allie and I went to the TeleferiQo, a tourist attraction that takes you up Pichincha, the mountain I see every morning on my walk to school, in a gondola. The view from the was spectacular, albeit freezing, and I felt like we were on top of the world.
The top of Pichincha.
I tried falafel that night and we bar-hopped in Gringolandia again for a little while. We got hungry a little after midnight, and tried to get a snack from a well-known $1-pizza place. They were out for the night, and after we pouted and asked the girl working if she knew of another place with cheap pizza, she looked quickly over her shoulder and grabbed my friend Kim's hand, leading us half a block down the street to a slightly more dubious establishment. Nevertheless, we got our pizza and even managed to get asked to dance in the 10 minutes we were there.
A few of us ventured back to the Mariscal to do homework and eventually watch the Superbowl. I like the Mariscal for its great prices, ethnic food, and farra, but I hope in the coming weekends we can try a slightly less gringo-y area to hang out.
This morning, classes revolved around indigenous communities, first a lecture about Spanish conquest, then an overview of the various groups and traditions from an Otavalena, or woman from Otavalo, one of the well-known indigenous cities in the sierra (same region as Quito, the other two are the coast and the oriente, or eastern jungle). It was interesting to me because my internship will most likely deal with citizen participation/dialogue in an indigenous community, which I've started to get arranged and hope to finalize soon.
I've worried a little about feeling lonely at my internship site, particularly if it's in a small town (which MSID encourages and I ultimately know is the best thing). But luckily, the town where Emilia, the internship coordinator, was pushing me to go, will likely have two other girls from my program. I still don't know what I'll be doing over the summer, whether I'll be in DC or Ecuador, but the people at CIMAS are wonderfully helpful and I hope to pursue my options more seriously soon.
We'll also be traveling soon! We have a few long weekends coming up, the second of which is Carnaval, the huge pre-Lent celebration. I'm really excited for Lent, Semana Santa (Holy Week), and Easter here. Sadly, I haven't been to Mass yet, but there are a few other Catholic girls here (as well as my family) so I hope to explore the many churches here soon.
I also hope to go dancing for real sometime soon. Angelica introduced me to her best friend Bianca, who of course was incredibly nice to me despite the fact that I am a foreigner (both culturally and socially, to her), and they offered to take me out sometime. I'm very lucky to have a "sister" close to my age, and since her semester ends soon we'll hopefully get to spend more time together.
If you've made it this far, you're wonderful and thank you - words can't express how much support from everyone at home means to me. As is my tradition, I'll reward you with a few funny quotes from the viaje so far:
Dr. Suarez, our program director: How was your trip? Was the hotel nice?
Cory: Yeah, but there were a lot of bugs.
Dr. Suarez: Oh, those came for free.
Emilia: Have I already introduced the professor to you? Does anyone know his name?
Cory: Dr. Fantastico.
[While playing a vocabulary game, I am to use the Spanish word for "walls" in a sentence and my classmates are supposed to guess what it is]
Me: The ... here are white.
Everyone: Gringos!
"Yo soy (Elea)nor(a). Soy una chica loca y rubia. Busco un hombre que juege aljedrez y escuche rap." - Kim's imitation of what my personal ad would be in a Spanish excercise about the subjunctive. [I'm Nora and I am a crazy blond girl. I'm looking for a man who plays chess and listens to rap.]
Check here for more of my pictures: http://www.grinnellgallery.com/viewAlbums.do?uid=c15434df04e064320104e80640eb001d
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