Whales and Boobies - 8/2/09

How in the hell do these months keep flying by? Since leaving Salasaka I´ve been indulging in some touristy fun. I started my trip off by heading to Puerto Lopez. It was by far the worst bus ride yet. I took a night bus hoping to sleep through and literally did not get a minute of rest. It was so bumpy I was constantly being bumped off my seat and the night before I only got 4 hours of sleep. It was a rough one! FInally I made it to Puerto Lopez and got into my hostal. I fell asleep for a couple hours. When I woke up I kept having seriously painful stomach pains. These lasted a few hours and then I decided to pay a visit to the oh-so-convenient hostal doctor. Apparently I have amoebas and something else. Excellent. I got loaded up with some meds and crawled back into bed. First day in PL, kind of sucked. The next day I was feeling a lot better and went to the Los Frailes beach in the national park nearby. It has a beautiful white sand beach with turqouise blue water, and I spent the whole day relaxing there. The next day I fially went to go see the whales! During July and August you get to see the whales migrating from Antarctica to Puerto Lopez; they go there to mate ad have their babies in the warmer waters. TO get to where the whales hang out you have to take a really rough boat ride out into the ocean for about an hour and a half. I´ve never concentrated so hard on not vomitting. However, it was well worth it. They were jumping out of the water and crashing back down a couple of times. It was incredible! They are so huge, it´s super overwhelming. After seeing the hwales for wahile we headed to Isla de la Plata. This island is home to many birds but most importantly, the blue footed booby. So many people had said that this part of the tour wasn´t worht it, but I thought it was incredible. I mean, unless you have blue footed boobies running around your backyard, I don´t know how you couldn´t have been impressed. We hiked around the island for a few hours and then headed back tothe boat for lunch and snorkeling. Honestly the snorkeling wasn´t that great but there were a few really pretty fish; the coral was totally dead though. Then we made a long and nauseating voyage back to the port. The next day I headed out to Bahia de Caraquez to get everything settled for my next volunteering stint at the Rio Muchacho Organic Farm. It turne out that none of the volunteers were really goig to start until Monday so I decided I would follow suit and just hang out until then. Luckily there were two sisters from the US staying at my hostal who were great, Keera and Ana. They were there to volunteer at an organization called Planet drum. I was thinking about volunteering there for a bit but after seeing where the volunteers live I am pretty sure that I will not be volunteering there. It´s defining characteristics include a serious bug infestation with no flushing toilets or running water for that matter. Anyways, I spent the weekend with the girls going to the beach, taing the tour of some mangroves, and eating a lot of foods. They were so fun and really made the weekend. And now I´m just relaxing before I start my new volunteer gig.

Last Bit of Salasaka Living - 7/26/09

No surprises, I stayed in Salasaka. I just couldn´t leave! I also got rid of my cold, so I think it was for the best. The last week of teaching was actually the most annoying week ever. 2 twelve year old boys joined my 2 tweleve year old girls and I´ve ever seen such annoying results. Bad 12 year old hormones, bad! THey would hit eachother, say bad words in Quichua and then the others would tattle, they refused to pay attention, or I guess they were just too distracted. Clearly I never produced such a ridiculous scene at that age. So it was a frustrating last week but we got through it. The time outside of class though became more and more fun. We all got into the habit of cooking ridiculously delicious treats, from soufles to salsas. I have made my mark on Pacha Mama cuisine with the peanut butter cookie. I also made some kick ass zucchini bread muffins. Saturday we went to a reggae/metal concert and save the Amazon festival all day. We ran into a girl that I volunteered with at Arutam as well, which was fun. THere was one reggae group called Rasta Alma that was so fun. Later that night a group of us went to Baños for dinner and then a last all night party at the Leperchaun bar. We ended up leaving at 5 am and made like an hour trip back to Salasaka which resulted in a really rough morning. Now I´m packing up all my things to leave Salasaka, for real, and making my way to Puerto Lopez to see the whales!

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.

It´s already July???!!! - 7/1/09

June came to a close crazy fast. My last week in Salasaka was pretty good. We kept practicing for Intiraymi at the school which was painfully boring, however, some familiar faces have shown up at Katitawa. These two hippie dippy South African girls, Tansy and Amy, and the wonderful Londoner, Eden, all came to work from Arutam. The two SA girls were still as strange as I remembered them, but they have definitely toned down the craziness a bit since I last saw them so they were quite nice to have around. And having Eden there was wonderful; she´s just so down to Earth it´s refreshing. The day of Initiraymi finally arrived and the kids did well, there was a large turnout, the local news station covered it, and I think everyone was pretty satisfied with the results. Lambchop was butchered and made into both a soup, which was uber foul including intestines, and also made into a roast with habas (beans) and potatoes. It was roasted on hot rocks in the ground and covered with a piece of metal and some branches. The roast was pretty good, but many volunteers, suspiciously, got diarrhea in the following days... so I don´t know if I would recommend following in these footsteps. After the performances, speeches, and food, the booze obviously followed; it wouldn´t be a Salasakan community gathering without a couple crates of Pilsener, some puro, and whiskey. We were all enjoying ourselves and apparently so were our very young students. I looked over at this seven year old kid downing a beer and others were lining up for their share. I asked the adults if this was normal and they just kind of smiled and shrugged. Such is life in Ecuador. Later that night we were invited to a friend of a teacher´s house for some coca leaves, coca alcohol, and chicha. Coca is used to keep people awake and suppress appetite as well as cure altitude sickness. If combined in huge huge quantities it makes cocaine which is why it´s so controversial (an illegal in Ecuador, oops), but it has to be something like 30 kilos of coca leaves to make one gram of cocaine powder, so its not anything to worry about. Chicha is a traditional Quichua drink made from chewed up fruit or corn that ferments. I prefer chicha over the other stuff which tastes like an anise plant just lit a fire in your GI tract. The next day we went to Salasaka´s town celebration of Intiraymi. I was told that there would be music, dancing, and a large bonfire - somethings were left out of the explanation. It started out really lovely. We were walking down towards the plaza and people were singing and carrying large tree branches; it literally felt like you were walking through a moving dancing forest. When we arrived at the plaza we joined in the enormous group of people surrounding the dance floor/stage area. This is when "the shit hit the fan". So we are standing in the crowd waiting for something to start (not sure what) when a group of men, wearing monkey masks and boxing gloves, started running through the crowd punching - and I mean really punching - random people in the head if they didn´t run out of the way fast enough. My friend Eden got boxed. It shocked the hell out of us, and yet, none of the Salasakans seemed the least bit surprised. That was kind of my "oh shit" moment and realization that the celebrations Ecua-style didn´t follow the regulations that would be the norm in the States, such as, don´t punch people in the face. So I was already tense; we literally had to keep on the lookout so we wouldn´t be punched. Then the monkey boxers got on horseback, rode their horses carelessly through the crowd, and continued their boxing brigade from there, adding a new level of danger, and for me, anxiety. Then, they let loose a couple of bulls to run through the crowd and people just had to clear a pathway or be trampled. But, my least favorite part was when they picked up a flaming object and tossed it into the crowd. Literally, not gauging where it was going to land or plan for anything, just chucking a fireball at a group of people like it was a piece of candy. was thinking that if I see a child running out of the crowd with his or her head on fire, I´m really going to need some therapy. Again, the Salasakans were unphased, laughed, and then continued on like nothing happened. I think I said "I´m not comfortable with this", at least 20 times. The next big event was the fire which was made up of the tons of lovely dancing tree branches we had marched toward the plaza with earlier. The fire was enormous; about two stories high and just blazing. Compared to what had been happening earlier, this put me at ease. As the fire died down a bit I got to crank my anxiety levels back up watching children running through the 8-10 foot flames of the fire; luckily no one got hurt. Finally, the music and dancing commenced, but I was so worn out from the stress of the prior activities that I didn´t last all night. In the end, I´m happy I went and experienced the Intiraymi celebration in Salasaka; if I hadn´t seen it for myself there is no way in hell I would have believed it. After I left Salasaka I went and met up with Sam, and Andrea, and many other Peace Corps friends which was so much fun. We spent the night in Wuito at the Secret Garden Hostal which was stellar and had an incredible dinner at a place I think called Cafe Mosaico, or something to that effect. The next day, Sam, Andrea and I went to Sam´s site in Pacto where we got to see where she lives and meet all the people she interacts with on a daily basis, and even take part in the aerobics class she leads every day. Her best friend and surrogate family member, Mary Lou, cooked us a phenomenal dinner and told us about her time with Sam thus far. The next day we met up with ten other PC volunteers at another site near Santo Domingo. We all went to an area in the jungle where the indigenous Tsachila group lives and they showed us some important aspects of their culture and a shaman cleansed us. It was pretty interesting and I liked being able to compare aspects of that indigenous culture to others that I have come to know. That night we all went back to the PCVs apartment, broke out a lot of drinks and food, danced, sang, and played games that Sam facilitated. It was a wonderful time. The next day Sam, Andrea, and Roberto (another PCV), and I took a long bus ride to Canoa on the coast. We stayed at a chill hostal on the beach, ate delicious foods, and mourned Michael Jackson´s death. The next day the weather was not particularly gorgeous. We hung out for about half the day then decided to make a move. Roberto and I went to Bahia de Caraquez to spend the day and then take a night bus to Ibarra where his site is and he has a 3 story house (so not peacecorps!). Sam and Andrea made their way towards Manta where they were flying back to Quito the next day. Our night bus to Ibarra was absolutely terrifying. I was knocked out on sedative-heavy motion sickness pills, but I would wake up every so often to the bus rocking dangerously back and forth and the clutch making a terrible grinding noise. But we eventually made it back alive. That afternnon Roberto and I took a hike down to a river and then later that afternoon, Thea, a friend of another PCV, came to join us for the night because she was in Otavalo and sick of being on the bus. Thea is wonderful; she´s crazy positive and down for anyhting. That night we went to a PCV couples´ house for dinner (Erin and Jacob) who were hilarious and just awesome company. The next day we went to meet up with more PCVs in a town called Tapacundo for another Intiraymi celebration. This one was a hell of a lot tamer than the one in Salasaka. This celebration consists of different groups of people dressing alike, singing a song over and over again, drinking lots, and dancing, doing what is called "the campo shuffle" to us gringos, all over town. The group I danced with was wearing traditional Ecua hats, goatskin chaps, and black leather jackets. I thought they looked pretty great. It was really fun dancing and then we also hung out by the little bonfires made of eucalyptus branches that dotted the main road. That was all very fun. Then a PCV who was a notorious drinker showed up and was just bouncing off the walls. People started to head home, but not this guy, and because Roberto promised to take care of him and make sure he didn´t et into trouble, I was forced to stay out later than desired. We tried getting this guy to go home which resulted in him crying, shoving Roberto a bit, yelling, and his eventual abandonment. He ended up not going to jail, sleeping on the street, or dying, so I guess it was okay. I headed back to Ibarra, went to some hot springs in Chichimbiru, and continued the role as Peace Corps groupie for a couple days. Now I´m in Quito enjoying some alone time and delicious oods for a couple days. I always thought I would just deal with traveling alone, but I¨m finding it really enjoyable. Friday afternoon I am returning to Ibarra to resume my groupie role. Friday night I believe there is dancing and clubbing in the works and then Saturday is a big ole, American style, 4th of July day at the lake, complete with fireworks and grilling out. Have a happy 4th of July everyone!

Quilatoa is beauuuutiful! - 6/15/09

Well this past week hasn´t been epic or anything, but there certainly has been some highlights. We have been preparing the kids at the school for an open day that will be ocurring on the 18th. People from all over the community, surrounding areas, and a local news team will be coming to Katitawa. The kids will be performing traditional dances, explaining the dry toilets, compost, recycling, and solar panels, talking about the volunteers who come from all over the world, the teachers will be talking about the school, and finally there will be a celebration of the holiday, Intiraymi. Initraymi is the local celebration of the Earth and I think the Sun which comes complete with a traditional ceremony and a sheep roast. THe sheep arrived today and I´m doing my best not to get attached. We were thinking its name should be either cena (spanish for dinner) or lambchop. So practicing for the opening day has bee taking up most of school time. It´s important that it goes well not only to show the community that Katitawa´s more experimental ways are beneficial to the kids, but also, to attract new students. This past weekend 2 volunteers and I went to Quilatoa for the weekend which is a tiny town that has one of the most beautiful lakes situated in the center of an old volcano. It is incredible gorgeous with turquoise blue water and an amazing hike. We hiked down to the lake, hung out for the afternoon, then hiked all the way back up. The altitude kicked my ass, to put it mildly. We stayed at this lovely little hostal right at the park entrance that had wonderful, big, family style meals, a big warm fireplace, and copious amounts of hot chocolate. No one slept well because the altitude is so high up you literally can´t breathe, but it allowed a group of us to get up and watch the sun rise over the crater which was phenomenal. Also, I´ve changed my plans slightly to meet up with my friends Sam and Andrea a little earlier than I planned to leave Salasaka, but what are the chances of a South American rendezvous? It will be really great to see some familiar faces, so for now I´m just going to enjoy the rest of my last week in Salasaka!

Bored in the library... let the facebook stalking commence!

so i´m working in my library in salasaca, ecuador amongst the quechua speaking folk and i am bored because i have to sit here 3 hours and i cannot be on a computer that long. so what do i do, i facebook stalk. i stumbled upon laurens wall and start reading. clearly i was going to pass over a comment made by max huston, but then i thought, three wolf moon t-shirt? must check it out.

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=89993759146&h=cHTsL&u=7rUtc&ref=mf

so i started by checking out the other items people bought along with this one: whole milk,"zubaz pants" whatever they are, a joe the plumber book, and a badonkadonk land cruiser are only on the first page. that provoked a smile. but then when i proceeded to the customer review by B. Govern (Bee dot Govern), that´s when the magic happened. I was trying to stifle my laughter because i was at that moment playing the role of librarian and there was no way i could explain why it was so funny to my Quechua friends. That clearly didn´t happen. I burst out laughing, scaring the silent members of the library, and had tears running down my face. this man is brilliant and basically summed up the non white trash and non uber annoying hipster populations´opinion on wolf tshirts. i would also like to give a nod to the customer review by T. Guymon "Son of Spam" who is also amusing. If you continue on, as I have, to the other 1300+ reviews of the Three Wolf Moon tshirt, you will find that there are a lot of hilarious sarcastic people who are more than willing to take the time to write a really funny review of this ridiculous item. I say props to them because they have amused me thoroughly in my last hour of library duty. Thanks Max Huston for enlightening us all!

Here is a copy of the review by B. Govern:

This item has wolves on it which makes it intrinsically sweet and worth 5 stars by itself, but once I tried it on, that's when the magic happened. After checking to ensure that the shirt would properly cover my girth, I walked from my trailer to Wal-mart with the shirt on and was immediately approached by women. The women knew from the wolves on my shirt that I, like a wolf, am a mysterious loner who knows how to 'howl at the moon' from time to time (if you catch my drift!). The women that approached me wanted to know if I would be their boyfriend and/or give them money for something they called mehth. I told them no, because they didn't have enough teeth, and frankly a man with a wolf-shirt shouldn't settle for the first thing that comes to him.

I arrived at Wal-mart, mounted my courtesy-scooter (walking is such a drag!) sitting side saddle so that my wolves would show. While I was browsing tube socks, I could hear aroused asthmatic breathing behind me. I turned around to see a slightly sweaty dream in sweatpants and flip-flops standing there. She told me she liked the wolves on my shirt, I told her I wanted to howl at her moon. She offered me a swig from her mountain dew, and I drove my scooter, with her shuffling along side out the door and into the rest of our lives. Thank you wolf shirt.

Pros: Fits my girthy frame, has wolves on it, attracts women
Cons: Only 3 wolves (could probably use a few more on the 'guns'), cannot see wolves when sitting with arms crossed, wolves would have been better if they glowed in the dark.

Field Trip! and I turned 23 - 6/1/09

Well I wasnt entirely healthy by my birthday. It is amazing how much of my time traveling is occupied by pondering my stomach problems; I would estimate about 30% of it. First there was constipation, followed by one night of vomiting, then constant unfortunate trips to the toilet, and finally, obscene amounts of bloating and gas. I literally woke up and belched one morning. Im starting to understand "a day in the life of David Norman" a little more every day. And now Im getting a cold, but Im pretty sure I prefer that to the tummy troubles. Anyways, my birthday was nice but not so eventful. We went on a field trip to Ambato with the students. To be honest it was a bit strange. We came to a provincial building and were ushered into a large parking lot where the kids performed a traditional dance along with another group and then there was a group of children from a special needs school whom I guess was the audience, but we were never filled in on the details (minor or significant). THen teh children went to go watch a clown which they really enjoyed. I forgot to write before about the clown that came to the school for the kids about a week or two before; most likely because it was such a revolting experience. So this clown, who looks like one of those satirical drunken bum clowns, comes to the school and starts off by doing some sort of a skit where he is constantly hitting the kids, kind of hard, with something that looks like a large rubber whoopie cushion. This was about a third of his entire act which none of the volunteers appreciated because 1. he shouldnt be hitting children, 2. hitting should not be presented as something comical, and 3. we already have enough problems trying to keep the children form hitting eachother. Another thing he did was tuck this string of bandanas into a childs pants and then magically pull out a pair of underpants on the line of bandanas. Now, the kids reaction - "oh my god did he just pull my underpants out in front of the entire school" expression - was hilarious. But, almost all the volunteers nearly lept out of their seats when he was putting his hand in the kids pants to tuck in the bandanas. It wasnt as inappropriate as Im probably making it seem, but enough so that Ive written him off my list to invite to birthday parties involving children, or adults for that matter. The clicher though was when he had a couple of the girls "walk sexy," waving at the audience, then stop to blow a kiss. I dont know what the hell that was meant for, but it was not okay. We have all agreed that this clown will not be invited back to Escuela Katitawa and that if he happens to get mowed down by a car that he should just understand that karma is a bitch. What a freak! But, the clown on Monday was nothing like this clown and was enjoyed by all. Later that night Kristina made me a lovely birthday cake but she forgot to add the eggs so it ended up being not so fluffy. And it was kind of burnt at the bottom. So she salvaged it as much as she could; it was not beautiful but we had zero problems finishing it. Then yesterday (Friday) we had another field trip. We had little details; just a time and place where we were to show up. So as we are waiting in this rented shuttle, some of the sutdents are showing up, but adults from the community, some school parents some not, were showing up in droves. There were 39 of us and I would say about two thirds were not students. I was a little weirded out by this. So we were driving for a couple of hours and then Chimborazo (a large mountain, active volcano, and at the summit, the closes place on Earth to the Sun) came into sight. We stopped at one point to take pictures, and some of the Salasacan people went and collected "pura aguas minerales" from a place near the side of the road where the water came up. I decided to stay away from it considering the amount of stomach problems I hade been experiencing lately. Then we kept driving and arrived at the base of Chimborazo and climbed up to the first refuge. It was so incredibly beautiful and we were literally standing in the clouds. After the climb we piled back into the shuttle and drove to some hot springs. First we all sat down and ate the lunch that was assembled from the various corn, potatoe, bean, and rice dishes that people brought. It was all piled on a big bag and people just grabbed handfulls of food over and over again until it was gone. It kind of grossed me out considering there was not hand washing and, in addition to the many other sources of germs, I had defintiely seen some nose picking before hand, and not just from the children. But, it was either that or not eat lunch. I guess its no surprise that Im getting a cold. Then we went in the hot springs which were a little dodgy but nice and warm. Most of the kids dont know how to swim so it was fun trying to teach them. One mom dunked her 3 year old kid, who is in my kindergarden class and my favorite student at the school (super adorable and in the picture with a red hat and a tire), into some freezing waterso that she could pass him off to me in the hot water and he wouldnt object. Once we got playing and splashing he was all gigles and smiles; it was very cute. After the hot springs we were driving through these picturesque mountains and arrived at a tiny little house shack thing where we were going to cook dinner. So we first walked down a couple of hills that opened up to this huge view with llamas climbing the hills across from us, thatched roof farm houses, and a slope full of pretty little yellow flowers, under which we dug up our potatoes. All the volunteers kind of chimed in at the same time with, "The hills are alive with the sound of music!" We brought the potatoes back and started splitting open the bean pods. Our host, Cesar, started passing out the aguardiente which is a liquor made from sugar cane and at first it doesnt taste awful, but then feels like what I would imgaine a fireblowers act gone wrong might feel like. Then I noticed they had startede making a fire in the house so I wandered in to find the guinea pigs being prepared. Talk about graphic, holy hell! So Im not sure the exact process, but what I saw was not dead rodents being dunked in a boiling pot of water, pulled out, stretched up, put into a pile where they were still moving and squeaking, and then further dunked where I think and hope they were finally killed, de-furred, de-organed, then roasted on a stick shoved through the whole of their body. At step one I went running out of the kitchen, holding back the dry heaves. But I did go back in a couple of times to take pictures; I mean, its definitely a once in a lifetime experience. So for dinner we had soup made of the beans, portatoes, guinea pig meat, and SURPRISE guinea pig intestine! I did not eat the intestine; they looked like soggy worms. However, I did eat the meat; I was happy I tried it but its just not very tasty. Ill stick to chicken. The whole night was full of great conversation, dancing, beers and aguardiente, and ended it off with some really heartfelt and lovely speeches fromthe community and school leaders. It was one of those days that you know is incredibly special and you wont get to do anything similar again.