Beach Buzz: The Puertos
The first stop on the Route of the Sun adventure was a small fishing town called Puerto Lopez. According to the books, Puerto Lopez remains the best place to catch an eyeful of a humpback whale during its mating season (June and July), so I am almost positive a return trip will be a must this June. I cannot really conceive of an animal that is bigger than the Tunas I saw at the Monterey Bay aquarium, but after seeing Cast Away again on television, whale watching must be a cool experience on some level. In fact I am almost inspired to pick up my copy of that whale book that they made us read in high school. According to that book the blue whale´s manhood is over 9 feet long, and each whale can control said manhood with the same dexterity possessed by humans over their thumbs. Ah high school. What would I have done without you.
Anyway, there isn´t a whole lot to report about Puerto Lopez, except that I had the most delicious ice cold passion fruit juice of my whole life. Since we had been traveling all night, I was soaked in sweat, and caked with pit stains the size of Denny´s pancakes. Doom seemed eminent. I am not sure if I have mentioned this yet, but it´s impossible to find cold things in Ecuador. It´s probably one of my top five frustrations. Basically no one likes regrigerated juice or water, you cannot drink ice because you might get the runs, and refrigeration is expensive. Most people even choose to drink warm beer. The only thing guranteed to be cold on some level is yogurt, but trying to quench one´s thirst with yogurt is like trying to soften a hard camping ground with extra clothing. I mean sure the intentions are good, but when it comes right down to it you are pretty much just as miserable as when you started. Considering this reality you can imagine my utter and unadulterated elation when I saw my passion fruit juice arrive with Slurpy like consistency. If I had been my good buddy who somehow doesn´t have the gene that contracts brain freezes, I might have downed about seven. As it was I polished off two.
Our next port was Puerto Rico, which is a tiny town barely on any maps. So tiny in fact, that when I told the bus driver the name of the pueblo and the name of the hotel, he gave me the Dan Quail ¨I just mispelled ´potato´¨ face. Anyway, despite its size, Puerto Rico was the site of my program´s mid service get together with all of the country´s vols to share ideas, feelings, and aspirations for the rest of our committment. We stayed at an outstanding hosteria, which provided hard wood floors and rooms from which you could hear the crashing ocean.
To be honest seeing everyone again for the first time after orientation was an absolute treat. The people on the coast are all tan, the people in the Sierra have the ability to run forever on the coast, and everyone has ridiculous and hilarious Ecua stories-though I must say that Old Kanedog´s trip to the beauty pageant was a true show stopper.
The other amazing thing was that everyone seemed to be in incredible spirits. You might imagine how being in a forein country, where you constantly get the gringo tax on all your purchases and where everyone sees you as a pompous sex object, can get frustrating. I am sure that other conferences have carried a much more bitter atmoshpere, but my group was suprisingly positive.
Consider the following quandry: What do the military, middle school, fraternities, and my Ecuador program all have in common?
The answer? Every single one of these endeavors forces people to suffer through incredible circumstances together. And, based on my experience and that of my friends and colleagues, these experiences have an undeniable ability to bring people together in the bonds of friendship. I hardly know every single volunteers, except the ones that live in Ibarra, but all of us feel an iron cast kinship. The power of mutual hardships to bring people together is awe inspiring to me. I mean consider the possibillites. What if every time two people-whether it be political leaders or rivaling countrymen-couldn´t get along we just offerend them their choice of the following circumstances: a) Spend two months non-sleeping in the rain, sleet, snow, or unbearable sun somewhere in Virginia learning having to rely on each other for tactical strategy, b) Spend three years covered in pimples with raging hormones, puberty, and homework having no clue what your purpose in life is, c) Spend nights together in a closet trying to polish off handles of booze between the two of them, or d) Give them no hot water, no edible food, and constant danger in a foreign country with no one else to rely on. Problem solved right?
The last reality that I garnered from our meeting is that teaching is hard. Really hard. The fact that teachers get no respect in the states is absolutel BS. Having the daily responsibility of planning engaging, exciting, and fun lessons for 75 Ecuadorians is daunting in and of itself. Now add the fact that you are responsible for all of your students´ future earning potential. Dont forget that you cannot slack off for one minute, or even go to the bathroom. If you arrive in a bad mood your class will be in a bad mood. If you dont feel like working you waste a day that you really cannot get back as your students will lose huge chunks of motivation. Conversing with my fellow Ecua teachers made me realize how amazing each and every one of their contributions is, and I just hope that I am doing my part.
By the way: Quick food update on the hosteria. Reknowned for its ability be entirely self sustaining, I arrived excited to see what the hosteria had to offer:
1)A delicious new type of soup. Dish Rag Dirty Sock suprise. Unbeliveable how drowning a soup´s broth in EcuaCheese gives off the smell only all too familiar to that guy who works the shoe rack at a bowling alley.
2) Delicious Bannana Bread. Mouthwateringly fantastic. In fact I charmed the waitress into letting me have a second piece.
3) Mixed Seafood served with a peanut butter sauce in a chute of Bamboo. Um.....yum. When I get back to the states I am probably going to eat sixty-five peanut butter dishes in a row. It´s unfathomable to me how Ecuador has not picked up on the deliciousness of P B completely.
Lunchtime.
-Kanedog
Anyway, there isn´t a whole lot to report about Puerto Lopez, except that I had the most delicious ice cold passion fruit juice of my whole life. Since we had been traveling all night, I was soaked in sweat, and caked with pit stains the size of Denny´s pancakes. Doom seemed eminent. I am not sure if I have mentioned this yet, but it´s impossible to find cold things in Ecuador. It´s probably one of my top five frustrations. Basically no one likes regrigerated juice or water, you cannot drink ice because you might get the runs, and refrigeration is expensive. Most people even choose to drink warm beer. The only thing guranteed to be cold on some level is yogurt, but trying to quench one´s thirst with yogurt is like trying to soften a hard camping ground with extra clothing. I mean sure the intentions are good, but when it comes right down to it you are pretty much just as miserable as when you started. Considering this reality you can imagine my utter and unadulterated elation when I saw my passion fruit juice arrive with Slurpy like consistency. If I had been my good buddy who somehow doesn´t have the gene that contracts brain freezes, I might have downed about seven. As it was I polished off two.
Our next port was Puerto Rico, which is a tiny town barely on any maps. So tiny in fact, that when I told the bus driver the name of the pueblo and the name of the hotel, he gave me the Dan Quail ¨I just mispelled ´potato´¨ face. Anyway, despite its size, Puerto Rico was the site of my program´s mid service get together with all of the country´s vols to share ideas, feelings, and aspirations for the rest of our committment. We stayed at an outstanding hosteria, which provided hard wood floors and rooms from which you could hear the crashing ocean.
To be honest seeing everyone again for the first time after orientation was an absolute treat. The people on the coast are all tan, the people in the Sierra have the ability to run forever on the coast, and everyone has ridiculous and hilarious Ecua stories-though I must say that Old Kanedog´s trip to the beauty pageant was a true show stopper.
The other amazing thing was that everyone seemed to be in incredible spirits. You might imagine how being in a forein country, where you constantly get the gringo tax on all your purchases and where everyone sees you as a pompous sex object, can get frustrating. I am sure that other conferences have carried a much more bitter atmoshpere, but my group was suprisingly positive.
Consider the following quandry: What do the military, middle school, fraternities, and my Ecuador program all have in common?
The answer? Every single one of these endeavors forces people to suffer through incredible circumstances together. And, based on my experience and that of my friends and colleagues, these experiences have an undeniable ability to bring people together in the bonds of friendship. I hardly know every single volunteers, except the ones that live in Ibarra, but all of us feel an iron cast kinship. The power of mutual hardships to bring people together is awe inspiring to me. I mean consider the possibillites. What if every time two people-whether it be political leaders or rivaling countrymen-couldn´t get along we just offerend them their choice of the following circumstances: a) Spend two months non-sleeping in the rain, sleet, snow, or unbearable sun somewhere in Virginia learning having to rely on each other for tactical strategy, b) Spend three years covered in pimples with raging hormones, puberty, and homework having no clue what your purpose in life is, c) Spend nights together in a closet trying to polish off handles of booze between the two of them, or d) Give them no hot water, no edible food, and constant danger in a foreign country with no one else to rely on. Problem solved right?
The last reality that I garnered from our meeting is that teaching is hard. Really hard. The fact that teachers get no respect in the states is absolutel BS. Having the daily responsibility of planning engaging, exciting, and fun lessons for 75 Ecuadorians is daunting in and of itself. Now add the fact that you are responsible for all of your students´ future earning potential. Dont forget that you cannot slack off for one minute, or even go to the bathroom. If you arrive in a bad mood your class will be in a bad mood. If you dont feel like working you waste a day that you really cannot get back as your students will lose huge chunks of motivation. Conversing with my fellow Ecua teachers made me realize how amazing each and every one of their contributions is, and I just hope that I am doing my part.
By the way: Quick food update on the hosteria. Reknowned for its ability be entirely self sustaining, I arrived excited to see what the hosteria had to offer:
1)A delicious new type of soup. Dish Rag Dirty Sock suprise. Unbeliveable how drowning a soup´s broth in EcuaCheese gives off the smell only all too familiar to that guy who works the shoe rack at a bowling alley.
2) Delicious Bannana Bread. Mouthwateringly fantastic. In fact I charmed the waitress into letting me have a second piece.
3) Mixed Seafood served with a peanut butter sauce in a chute of Bamboo. Um.....yum. When I get back to the states I am probably going to eat sixty-five peanut butter dishes in a row. It´s unfathomable to me how Ecuador has not picked up on the deliciousness of P B completely.
Lunchtime.
-Kanedog
posted by ecuadortraveler at 9:22 AM
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