Stuck

So I have a friend, named Kanye, who told me this story and I thought it was so fascinating that I had to write it down. The following events may or may not be true, as I am heard them second hand, so they in no way can be used in a court, USA, Ecuadorian, or otherwise, as grounds for evidence.

It all started because Kanye's sister, Zee, and Kanye's buddy, Kanye's sister's BF, Micky,were visiting from a foreign country. In celebration of such a special occasion, Kanye, Zee, and Micky, along with Kanye's GF, Bassy, planned a trip to the Ecuadorian coast, since the coast is money and Micky and Zee wanted to check out more of Ecuador's diverse landscapes after visiting the Sierra cloud forest. Thus the 4 Ecuador travelers planned a trip to Atacames (see earlier entry) to take in some sun, eat some ceviche, and enjoy each other's company.

Due to a tight schedule featuring late work hours and a July 4th party featuring a crazed ex-mayor spewing fight the man speeches at high schoolers, the four compadres scheduled a morning flight to Esmeraldas, so that they could be on the coast before brunch time.

With their bags packed and ready for the beach, our four heroes called an elevator on the top floor of the building well in advance of their flight time, so that they could catch a cab to the airport for the morning flight, which they had paid for in advance to make sure that their seats would not be given away to other travlerers, as Atacames is a ridiculously popular spot in the summer, and Ecuadorian airports have a notorious reputation for selling seats twenty minutes before flights take off. Just the way things go.

Waiting for the elevator, Kanye, Zee, Micky, and Bassy were happy as clams to have some time away from their busy schedules and to be reunited for the first time since they had lived in adjacent apartments back in their home town. Things could not have been better. The elevator arrived and the four got in, giddy at the prospect of being on the beach in just a few short hours.

After going down two floors the elevator door opened. A tall man, skinny man a la that dude fromCharlie's Angels, looked in at the already occupied and elevator and frowned. He knew that the maximum capacity of this Quito elevator was only four people. Annoyed that he would just have to wait, he nodded and let the elevator door close.

After two more floors the elevator door opened again. Again a man, older this time, peered in at the 4 people with accompanying suitcases. The older man, reminding Kanye of Grampa Simpson's friend with the long beard, smiles and wishes the travelers well. He knew he couldn't get on the elevator with it's 4 person maximum holding capacity, but wasn't in the same rush as the thin man. He grinned awkwardly at the four travlers and allowed the door to close.

The elevator continued its descent. Again the door opened, just three stories up from the bottom floor. This time two Ecuadorians, a man and woman, peered into the elevator. They both were carrying large sacks. They bullied their way into the elevator, despite Kanye's pleading that they not. Kanye indicated the four person maximum limit sign in the elevator, but the Ecuadorians just responded with another Ecuadorian ya mismo type phrase, "no pasa nada," which basically is used by positive people looking at FUBAR situations. For you visual learners, picture two guys in a room checking out the water damage in their apartment after a big rain, with cracked paint, and a huge hole in the ceiling. The two guys look at each other, shrug their shoulders, and shout "Ah, no big deal." Exact same idea as "no pasa nada."

The door to the elevator closes, and Kanye has one of those moments when you feel a kinship with a machine. Bear with me. You know when you put too much crunchy stuff in a blender, and you know that the motor is going to be annoyed at you? Or when you try doing too many operations at once on your computer? There's that moment when you can almost feel the machine's pain as it attempts to overexert itself. Kanye crossed his fingers and held his breath.

The elevator descended to the lobby floor and stopped. So far so good. The doors started opening. Still OK. Then in mid-opening the doors lurched and shut again. Fuck. The elevator started descending again. Shit. Two floors the elevator fell, not free falling, but quicker than normal. It bounced off something, a rubber piece maybe, and came to a stop on the bottom floor. @#$%^&^%$#$%^..

Emergencies all have a different effect on people, but the initial reaction is always the same. "What do we do now." Everyone just kind of looks at each other.

Then the tide goes one of two ways. Some people start thinking logically about ways to get out of the FUBAR situation. Others remind themselves to stay calm and to not freak out. Others start screaming bloddy murder.

Nobody in our elevator started screaming. People seemed pretty logical. Micky tried the buttons opening the door on the bottom level. He then tried the emergency button. No dice. The Ecuadorians are grinning sheepishly like they have been caught scratching their crotch for just a little bit too long. Kanye's cell phone rings, he answers it, but cannot hear anyone on the other line. He hangs up to confront the situation again. He tries yelling up the elevator shaft at the guard. "Ayudanos!!!" Nothing.

That's when calm logical reactions started changing. Bassy is visibly dizzy with the lack of air in the elevator. She feels nautious. She says simply to the man she loves, "Kanye. You have to do something."

It's one of the weirdest moments of Kanye's life. The girl of his dreams just uttered a sentence in a tone that he has never heard before now. It's filled with fear and desperation, but also with hope. Bassy desperately wants to believe that Kanye will figure something out, but he's her last hope and she is done waiting. He doesn't have any more time to think. His whole existence is spurred into action faster than it ever has in his whole life. He pursues the first option that comes into his head. Muscle it.

Kanye tells the Ecuadorians to get the fuck out of the way and approaches the first door. He rips it open easily, only to find a solid steel door staring back at him. He wedges his meathooks into the crack between the steel door and the wall and starts pulling with all the force. He lets out a grunt of exertion but his fingers slip. Setback, but he tries again. He reasserts his grip and rips, this time with more force and anger. Micky comes over to help. They both pull. Hard. There's a loud crash and...

Whoosh. Air rushes into the elevator and lungs of the six people inside. Kanye and Micky have just yanked a steel door off of its hinges and guide track to expose an opening of 15 inches.

Kanye slips through the door and offers a hand to Bassy, Micky, and Zee to help them out of the elevator. They yank their bags through the door opening. The Ecuadorians climb out as well. Their sheepish grins have turned into gapes. "Chucha! Que fuertes! Increible!" (Fuckin A. You guys are strong. Incredible!). Kanye takes one look at the door, and admittedly admires his handiwork. The door flaps on its hinge like a limp arm on an combat vet. Bassy runs over and places the door back in a way that makes it look at least somewhat like its working.

Kanye, Bassy, Micky, and Zee run through the parking garage desperate for the sight of sun. It hits them like with a glorious wash of tender life. They are saved. They are free. They hop in a cab and jet over to the airport just in time to catch their flight. They hit the beach happy to be alive.

Kanye however is still worried about the elevator. He calls his best Ecuadorian friend to ask his advice on the matter. What should I do he asks. His friend calms him down and gives him a strange answer. "Exactly what you just did my friend. Don't ever mention that elevator door to anyone ever. You are not at fault in any way, but if you tell your story you will have to pay for every damage that has been done to the door in its history. If you do nothing, the door will be fixed when you get back, and everything will be fine. Ecuadorian way of life."

Kanye, an honest person with admirable integrity, looks inside himself. Did he do anything wrong? No. The two Ecuadorians who got on the elevator knowing the 4 person max capacity (the sign is posted on the elevator door) are at fault if anyone. He can live with himself. He can walk away.

But how weird is that? I heard from another one of my friends a similar type of story. This friend was in a tax on the way to her house. The taxi driver was out of control, but she only had a short ride and wasn't too worried. She asked him at least five time to slow down, but he refused. Then all of a sudden the taxi driver crashed into a guy on a motorcylce, sending the guy into the air about 20 feet, only to come crashing down on his head on the pavement. The taxi driver stopped the taxi and yelled at my friend, "You tell anyone about this and I will fuck you up."

My friend ran home to talk to her Ecuadorian friends about the incident, but they said that same thing. "You tell anyone about what happened and you will assume full responsibility of the incident."

"But I didn't do anything and that man might be dead!" said my friend.

"Doesn't matter. You will be at fault because you have money and you confessed to the incident."

Am I in reality? Could this really be the true circumstances surrounding living in Ecuador. The answer? Oh you betcha.

As I see it, there are two things to take away from Kanye's story: One is thank the lord for good sumeritan laws in the states. Somehow, at least in my experience, the states reward honesty and respect a people who honestly want to do the right thing. Kanye or my other friend would have been more at fault in the states for running from the scene of an accident than for articulating the details of the events to a supervisor of the building. But not in Ecuador. Here people are so starved for opportunities to allow somebody else to pay for something that accountability has been thown out the window.



And how can this type of society possibly set a good example for children. In real society telling the truth just gets you into more trouble than ignoring situations. No wonder people have trouble adjusting to culture here. An absolute fundamental belief set cultivated constantly in my household carries no weight or substance in Ecuador. Unreal.

The second is the power of loved ones. I often marveled at stories of mothers that lifted cars off of their children and joked with my buddies about taking adrenaline supplements before lacrosse games, but I never really considered the possibillity that these types of stories are legit.

Until now. When someone you love is in trouble, not to mention two people, your body can do amazing things. No joke.

-Kanedog West

ya Mismo

Remember how I went to INTAG and got sick on my birthday? Me too. It wasn't all that fun. Thus you can imagine my dismay when I chewed on the fact that I would have to be making a return trip. My motivation for making the return?

Unreliability. Allow me to explain.

In my current job, I am responsible for setting up sites where volunteers will work here in Ecuador. Due to the size of our volunteer groups and due to the extensive need for English education here in Ecuador, we have branched out to a ton of really cool communities. However, the people in charge of these different sites have caused me to have severe bouts of "Am I really the most competent person in this country" itiss.

I know I know that's a terrible statement to make. However, in order to confirm a volunteer teaching schedule in this coutnry, you have to call the school directors a MINIMUM of 10 times. Not even kidding. Here's an example of what it's like to set up an English program in Insert Community Here, Ecuador.

CALL #1 - 1st week of April
Me: Hi may I speak with the director of the shool.
Director: Hi, who is this?
Me: It's the Director. We have a volunteer coming on x date for y amount of time. Will you be able to set everythign up?
Director: Why of course. We love working with you all and we need English education.
Me: Perfect. I will be calling you in a week to follow up.
Director: Great. Talk to you then.
Me: (Worried Smile)

CALL #2 - 2nd week of April
Me: Hi may I speak with the director of the shool?
Director: Who is this.
Me: I am the director I called last week on x day at y time.
Director: I don't know who you are.
(Hangs Up)
Me: (Angry phone slam against the receiver)

CALL #3 (1 minute after Call#2)
Me: Hi may I speak with the director of the school?
Secretary: I am sorry the director is not in today
Me: But I just spoke with him one minute ago.
Secretary: No you didn't.
Me: Can I leave a message?
Secretary: What's your name?
Me: Director of the NGO.
Secretary: That's your opinion. We don't take solicitations.
Me: (Head banging against the keyboard)

CALL #4 (Two Days after Call #3)
Me: Hi may I speak with the director of the school.
Director: Hey Kane so you will be sending the volunteers soon right?
Me: Yes. I gave you the dates two weeks ago.
Director: It's in October right?
Me: Know. It's in June.
Director: Oh July?
Me: No. June.
Director: Who is this?
Me: Kane.
Director: Oh right. Why are you calling again.
Me: I want to confirm the date, time, schedules, and other information I gave you last week.
Director: Right we got it.
Me: Good I will call you next week to confirm again.
Director: Pleasure doing business with you.
Me: (Middle finger with bracelets jingling to the phone) Yeah thanks bye.

Call #5 (Week Later)
Me: Hi Director. Kane here again.
Director: So how about that volunteer for December?
Me: (Suicidal Thoughts)

And the worst part is that I am SERIOUS. This is literally the way it goes for every single institution in the country. It drive me absolutley nuts. Thus when we are placing a volunteer in a community without cell phone service, I definitley felt responsible for accompanying my volunteers so that they could have the best experience possible.

The short story is that I went to INTAG and got to experience a wonderful seven hour walk in the rain! Yessssssss.

When I arrived to Cuellaje after helping the Penaherrera volunteer get settled in, I asked around for the three people who had agreed to meet me in Cuellaje that very day. All three of them had forgotten about my visit and nobody knew who I was. Without options, I asked a town's person how far my walk would be and she cheerily answerd six kilometers. I started walking, it started raining, I got ridiculously hungry, and finally asked the one person I saw on the road how far the town was. He told me that I had already walked eight kilometers (in the pouring rain) and that the town was still a solid 10 kilometers down the road. So I walked back 8 kilometers to the town and went door to door for two hours asking people if I could crash on their floor since I didn't have anywhere to stay and it's not like towns have hotels or anything. I finally found one lady who agreed to put me up for the night and give me a bowl of soup. The wooden floor was as plush as a wooden floor.

How could three people not only forget about my meeting with them, but also have forgotten to leave me with any directions for how to navegate my time in Cuellaje without them? Furthermore, it's not like this experience was unique. My partner actually went to the Tena area for similar reasons and her story ended with an arrival in Quito at 5AM after hitchiking on seven different vehicles because nobody had given her correct information either.

Ecaudor has a notorious reputation for being culturally lax about deadlines and meetings, which is the answer I get from all my Ecuadorian friends. Relax kane. Dont get mad. That's just the way things are in Ecuador culturally. People don't have deadlines, meeting times, or anything else because they just get things done evenntually at their own pace. The US is too worried about these types of things.

Thus comes my quandry. When can culture just get out of the way in the face of this little thing called LOGIC? For example, there is a culture in Ecuador called the Shuar that practiced the art of shrunken heads. They would kill people, boil the skin of the head, remove the bones, let the skin dry, and then stuff the head like some sort of minature bobble head. However, one day someone told the Shuar that even though shrunken heads are culturally awesome, that they just don't fit in with humankind's overall plan of treating each and every member of human kind with respect. The Shuar agreed that shrinking heads to steal someone's mojo didn't really make that much sense, and thus they have stopped shrinking heads.

"Ya mismo" in Ecuador is the most telling expression of Ecuadorian interpersonal business attitudes. "Ya mismo" is literally translated as "the same as already", which is used in contexts like "right away." However, whenever you hear somebody in Ecuador say that they will get something done "Ya Mismo", you know that you are in for the longer waiting periods than automated elevator music answering systems. It's absolutely brutal.

This "Ya mismo" attitude brings about the frustrations I have with Directors. They agree to do everything I ask of them on the first call, but after that they experience the most ridiculous ADD of anybody in the history of the world. They literally must hang up the phone with me thinking that they are going to start working on planning English programs, hear a pencil drop on the floor, and then spend the rest of the day turning their head violently to each new stimulus in their office, completley forgetting about our conversation. It's absolutely absurd.

In my opinion, and people who think this feeling is culturally insensitive can kiss my culo, "Ya Mismo" is on par with shrinking heads. Just as the SHuar agreed that shrinking heads had to go, Ecuadorians as a whole need to embrace the fact that "Ya Mismo" needs to reflect getting someting done, rather than the opposite. In fact, I am going to create a policy that holds directors responsible for this type of crapola administrative work. We will see if it works.

-Kanedogg