Back to home base - 7/21/09

I´m getting pretty bad at writing regularly which, at the moment, is a sing that I have been pleasantly busy. The Friday since I last worote, we went to a club in Ibarra called Mojito where they were playing a wildly eclectic mashup of classic rock, spanish tunes, techno, and, of course, copius amounts of Michael Jackson. Definitely a good time. The next day we brought obscene amoutns of food ( everything from red velvet cake to chilli cheese covered hot dogs and hamburgers) and spent the day celebrating the homelands´independence. We fnished up the night with an array of really crappy fireworks. The highlight was when on of the fireworks turned on us and shot this little rocked directly at our heads; it was the most exciting one by far. The next day I embarked on a long journey towards Cuenca. I spent one night in a hostal called Casa Blanca in Baños which I do not think I would recommend to anyone who is not enthusiastic about other peoples´pubic hair in your bed and on various areas of the bathroom. I got out of there the next morning and finished up my journey to Cuenca. I stayed at a weird hostal, but it was lacking the hairy decor and so I couldn´t complain too much. The hostal, called El Cafecito, was more of a bar with rooms right off the sides which allowed for some loud tunes and even louder talking to fill the room until the wee hours every night. But I did meet some fun people, such as a crazy Chilean man who spoke a mile a minute, and, incidentally, I met a man named Phil who came to volunteer in Salasaka after. Cuenca is pretty and quite tranquilo; it looks like a city in Spain and has a lovely river, but other than that there wasn´t a whole lot to do. For the weekend I headed to Vilcabamba, the Valley of Longevity. It was so gorgeous, with rolling hills, jungle, forest, and everything in between. You can do hikes or just relax. I met a ton of the rahter sizable expat population and they took me around to their friends houses and their favorite spots. The people I met there seemd to want nothing but to make everyone feel welcome, comfortable, and happy. It was a very lovely weekend. Although, one night I went to bed, feeling fine, read a bit, and all of a sudden I was thought, oh god I am going to throw up, and had to run to the bathroom to up chuck my previously delicious meal. But other than that, I really loved Vilcabamba; so much so that I might only stay at Rio Muchacho for two months and then go back to Vilcabamba for a month to volunteer at an ecolodge there. After Vilcabamba I made my way back to Salasaka, my home away from home. On the way I had to stay at a scary ass hostal near the bus station in Loja that was tended to by a drunk, verbally abusive, psycho (verbally abusive to his girlfriend not to me). The next night I finally made it into Salasaka. I was so ready to pull up to the front door of Pacha Mama (the hostal), however, there was obscene amounts of construction blocking my way. I told the cab driver to just let me out somewhere and I¨d trek the rest of the way. Easier said than done! Every path I knew to take, there was a tne food ditch in my way and it was pitch black out. Finally I decided I was just going to blaze my own freakin trail. So I busted out the headlamp and started walking in the general direction of Pacha Mama. It was going okay until a pack of angry, inbred, weiner dog, mutts came growling and barking at me. Weiner dog mutts may not seem so scary, however, all I could think of wasif I had to get those massive rabies shots in my stomach, it´s really going to suck. Luckily the owner of the rabid mob came out to save me. I frantically explained to her my plight and she escourted me back to Pacha Mama. This is why I love Salasaka! I was definitely shocked by the amount of people there; some old faces, some new, and a couple who had also skipped out on Arutam early and made their way here. The next day I felt a tad out of my element because we were now running semi private lessons instead of holding regular class, but I have found that I actually prefer it. THe kids actually want to learn and there´s way less of them, so it´s easier to teach and more personaly attention for the kids. Personally, I think I´m an awful English teacher; I don´t understand the rules in English and explaining them in Spanish is just that much more complex. However, I found a copy of Frog and Toad are Friends in the library and I¨m pretty excited to make the kids read it. I also teach math whic I pretty much love. Takes me back to when I was ontop of my arithmatic game in middle and high school (Shout out to Russ Pline!). Any who, the week went relatively smoothly and I became fast firnes with everyone here; it´s very much so a brady bunch family. Friday night we did a bit of indulging which included meat (MEAT!) and potatoes, I made riquisimas chocolate chip cookies, a banana and blackberry sauce cake, a freshly squeezed juice bar with rum, and to top it off, we roasted bananas in tin foil in the fireplace (camp style), and had a contest of who could create the best filling the the naners. My personal favorite was Gretta´s campo fresco cheese and cinamon. A lovely evening indeed. The next day was the confirmation of twenty kids in Salasaka. Gretta, Bill and Justine were all padrinos, godparents. That morning I did my first ever souveneir shopping (it was great) and then went to the church to watch confirmation. Later that night, we were invited to help celebrate at the house of Bill and Justine´s newest godson. Well, first we had to find the house, and in the campo, it´s just not that easy. THey told us to listen for the loud music which is like telling someone in the US suburbs to look for the SUV. So we headed in the right direction and, low and behold, there was a house with enormous speakers, blaring music. So we went up to ask if this was the right house, and of course it wasn´t, so we said sorry for barging in and turned to go find the party we had originally set out for. Then, the little girl who had been confirmed, and it was her quinceniera (15th bday), asked me ¿Pues, porque no estan entrando? Why aren´t you guys coming in? And, as with any food, beverage, or party invite, we could not decline. So we thanked her profusely and entered the party. THere was an enormous chicken, veggies, cuye, a homemade three tiered cake, fruit, cookies, and candy. And as soon as we sat down we were handed a giant bowl of chicken soup and some of the strongest chicha I¨ve ever had. Everyone treated us like royalty, but it was still a bit awkward, being that we accidentally crashed the party. We stayed for awhile; some of the girl´s relatives made extremely heartfelt speaches and everyone of them welcomed us and thanked us for joining their party in the celebration. I mean personally, I didn´t feel to burdened crashing a party and getting free food, but your welcome random Salasakan family! These people give a new definition to hospitable. More chicha was followed by dancing with the family. After a while we excused ourselves to go find the party we hadinitially set out for. Eventually, we got to the right party. Again, we were greeted with copius amounts of food and drink and followed it up with some wild Salasakan dancing (not wild at all, we were two-stepping). After that we decided to head back to the first party we were at. THere were even more people now, all of whom were plastered. The dancing continued and more speeches were made. One of the volunteers had a bit too much to drink and started vomitting in the corner of the room while an incredibly drunk relative made a speech. I looked over in utter disbelief, ¨was she really just puking in someones living room during a toast?¨ Not many people noticed, thank god, and the drunk ass relative making the speech fell over. A distraction! With all the attention on him a couple of guys escourted the volunteer out of the house and back to the hostal. But disaster striked again when another volunteer attempted to remove the box that contained the contents of the volunteers sotmach; the bottom fell out. Luckily I did not have to witness that part, but I felt the shame nonethless. Apparently no one was too offended by the display; we continued to be served drinks, asked to dance, and Phil was asked to be a godfather. At the end of the night we all managed to stumble out way back home. The next morning was a rough one for everybody. I was supposed to leave Sunday night to go to the coast but I changed my plans, a couple times actually. Now I´m supposed to leave tomorrow to go to the coast but I have a bad cold and it just doesn´t seem like a good idea to hit up a beach party while I´m sick then go onto my next volunteer site. It´s also really very sad for me to leave here, and it´s really easy to stay. So we´ll see how I feel tomorrow I suppose.