Queezy with Machismo

So everyone already knows about machismo, machista, chauvenist, or sexist behavior. However, the US faces very little of this type of action in comparison with Ecuador. It's at times unbearable, sometimes endearing, but most of the time simply interesting (however, if I were a woman my opinions about Machismo might be....er would definiltey be different).

In light of this cultural trait, I decided to take myself to an Ecuadorian play called "Pareja Abierta" that was billed to portray the story of a couple who wanted to experiment with the idea of an Open Relationship so that they could be part of the 20th century. The play got rave reviews in the papers, and it's always nice when you don't actually have to stare at a computer screen for a couple of hours. Thus I bought my tickets, not really knowing what to expect and sat down for the show.

Wow. This is awkard. Everyone is laughing at this poor unfortunate girl who is just getting dominated by her husband. Somehow I don't really find any of this very funny. I feel like my mom might have walked out.

The show basically started for a full hour portraying a sniveling girl who loved her husband, but but whose husband decided to sleep with young college girls. Rather than slapping her husband in the face the girl just tried to kill herself and the husband just kept laughing in a maniacal insane sort of way.

And the audience loved it. I have never felt so awkward in my life. Everyone was just cracking up at this poor ridiculous woman. I felt like a Westminister Dog Show Fanatic watching Amores Perros with Michael Vick. Unbelievably uncomfortable. I mean I am up for some sexist humor as much as the next guy, but when do you ask the person pummeling a dead horse with a stick to just give it a rest already.

Then I started thinking that this portrayal in the play is actually how Ecuadorians act in their relationships. No way this could be true I though to myself. How could people be so comfortable with one and a half hours of a crying sniveling defenseless woman getting ruined by her weirdo psycho laugh husband.

And that's when the woman went through her tranformation. She combed her hair, lost weight, put on a dress and some makeup, and started getting laid. And the dude freaked out, unable to handle the role reversal. The man then became the poor defenseless one, while the woman moved on.

And the Ecuadorians were quiet. Again very strange. Apparently it's not as funny when the man becomes a huge wus.

All in all the play was solid. Basically stated that Open Relationships don't work, which I wholeheartedly agree with. It's just too hard to share someone you love with other people, at least for me. I imagine that there are some people who can completely remove themself and be happy that their loved one is having relations with someone else, but I am not one of them.

However, the machismo is what really freaked me out about the play, and I learned an interesting insight that I hadn't already realized. Culture shapes humor as much as it shapes everything else, which I suppose now is pretty obvious. However, humor is not one of the first things that jumps out at you when someone says "culture." I feel like you first go through music, art, clothing, food, etc.

Which brings me to my ultimate point. Fluency is IMPOSSIBLE. I cannot even imagine ever being legitimately fluent in Spanish. I mean I understood an entire play, word for word, without problem, and the play was completley in Spanish. Fluency right?

NO WAY. I still have to understand the cultural foundations of fluency so that I laugh at the same jokes that native Spanish speakers laugh at right? I have to learn all of the speech mannnerisms that go along with just grammar and pronunciation, which allow people to identify with people from their own culture. I mean if communication is 70% body language anyway, shouldn't fluency include a conceptoin of body language and gestures also?

My head hurts. Too much thinking and GMAT test taking. Hope everyone is well.

-Kane

The Royal Treatment

So the car ride turned out to be awesome. I sat in the back and talked to Christian and his wife about life, community work, and pride. He turned out to be one of the most interesting people I have ever met. Apparently his arm had been rendered useless in a freak electricity accident while he was a teenager. Frustrated with his circumstances, he got a prosthetic arm and just dealt with the situation. He poured his heart into accomplishing goals that would not require the use of one arm and relied heavily on support from his wife.

I saw his wife look up at her husband with admiring eyes. Christian and Wendy just had it. I took up the opportunity to hear a love story, and was greatly impressed. Apparently Christian and Wendy had met in the second grade, were in love by the fifth grade, and married during their senior year in high school. Probably the first couple that got married in high school in the history of the world that still is crazy about each other. Really cool to watch.

Anyway, after a quick Ecua-lunch in Ambato, we continued on the road to Guaranda and Christian told me that the views were going to be awesome, and even gave me a seat in shotgun so that I could take in all of the scenery.

Jaw dropping is the phrase I would probably use to describe the road from Ambato to Guaranda. You probably spend at least 75% of the trip at the foot of Chimborazo, or Chimbo, staring up at what could only be described as immense. Plus we were lucky enough to be able to be taking in the views of Chimborazo from a cloudless sky. I was able to see every nook and cranny in the mountain's face, and see the peak, 20000 feet above me.

Maybe you knew or maybe you didn't, but Chimborazo's peak actually clocks in as the farthest point from the center of the earth, mostly due to the equatorial bulge. So sure, Everest is taller, but Chimbo puts you up higher in the atmosphere. Pretty cool right?

We finally arrived in Guaranda at about 4:00 PM, and I the VIP treatment continued. I was taken to meet every single human being that ever was related to the University of Bolivar in Guaranda. Some highlights were:

-Meeting the English teachers. One of the most awkward parts of life now is seeing how chubby kid in a candy store people become when they have the opportunity to speak English with a native speaker. These English teachers spend their whole lives dying to be able to see if they can converse on a real stage. Just unbelievable. Their entire English education has come from the pages of the book, without ever hearing an English word pronounced by a native. The awkardness arises out of the fact that undoubtedly it's fun to practice practice, but I got to be sure that people know what I am expecting of them to begin an English program. Thus you almost have to have the conversation twice, just to make sure that the basics are covered.

-Meeting the Director of the University. These guys are always so formal and full of themselves. So the director starts chatting away and then pauses, waitiing for the English teachers to translate his jargon. So then I respond to his questions in Spanish without waiting for the English teachers to struggle through the translation, and the director just looks at me dumbfounded, like he had never seen a white person speak Spanish in his life.

-Meeting random females in Guaranda and at the University: I literally was introduced to EVERYONE in the whole town, but the female population is always funny. Sometimes a guy just feels more like a piece of meat than anything else.

-Getting taken out to the nicest restaurant in Guaranda by the Director and Sub Director of the University. Delicious food, awkard conversation since these guys have the personality of a dead fish. I finally broke the ice and got everyone lively when I brought up the subject of idiomatic expressions. As I fired off classics like, The early bird gets the worm, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the apple never falls far from the tree, the Ecuadorians resounded with 1 bird in your hand is worth more than 100 flying around you, Thief that steals from thief has 100 years of pardon. Definitely interesting how different languages have their own way of saying things. Also great conversation fodder if you ever are trapped in a intercultural business meeting with nothing to say.

-The Radio Show: This probably should have been its own column, but I don't have any of this so-called "free time" now that I am preparing for the next volunteer group and have to spend time applying to grad school as well. However, here's the story.

I was pulled out of bed at 6:30 AM so that I could make the 7:00 AM Guaranda Radio Show, which is basically the only time everyone in the city listens to the radio. The host of the show is Don Ronaldo de la Vega, or something absurd like that, and he speaks with one of those voices that just belongs on the radio. In fact, when people from Guaranda hear him speak in person they do the "Why is that voice coming out of your mouth instead of a television of radio" face that you might see with on a young Shrek Fan talking Mike Myers in person, or what it must be like to talk to Nancy Castellana, or whoever the voice of Bart Simpson is. I mean sometimes a voice just doesn't seem right coming out of human being when you have only heard it on television or on the radio. I will never forget the first time I saw Chewey Gomez in person. I digress.

Anyway I walk into to Don Ronaldo's studio and get escorted to the green room, where they give me a cup of tea to make sure my voice is ready to go. Don Ronaldo starts mouthing off on the radio about the weather, the news, and everything else. He goes to one commercial, rambles again, cracking jokes and just emanates "I am in my element." Before he goes to commercial he drops the, "I have Kung Ruesol here in the studio today, who has come Guaranda especially to help our city speak better English. I will be right back after a short commercial break.

I then get escorted to the interview room, which was through the window from Don Ronaldo. I get the headphones strapped on, Don Ronaldo asks me if I feel good, I nod, and then he brings us back from commercial.

At this point one though sticks out in my mind. I was FREEZING. Literally shivering, since I was only wearing a sport coat and nothing else, and we were at the foot of Chimborazo. I was mildly freaked out that I would sound like a pussy on the radio, so I did the old blow into your hands routine and waited.

Don Ronaldo's helper finally gave me the thumbs up and off we went. I spent about thirty minutes chatting up my organization, explaining the latest cutting edge teachign methods, inviting students from all over the province to come to class, telling Don Ronaldo about how learing "Hola Como esta usted" is just about as useful as learning "Hello How are you doing sir/madam" since about 2% of the population actually says stuff that formally. I promised Don Ronalado that the students of the Bolivar province would learn not only "Hello," but also "What's Up, What's Going on, How's it going," and other phrases to use when speaking with real people in real settings.

After 30 minutes Don Ronaldo grinnned signed us off, went to commercial, and told me that I spoke better Spanish than he did. He then escorted me to his courtyard so that we could snap a couple of pictures, and then escorted me out the door. Don Ronaldo had to get back to work before the commercial break was over.

I had been plugged in. 50000 watts of Kanedog. Don't know if I will top that for a while.

-Kanedog

New Contact

So my new job is OK. I never get time to write anymore, which sucks, but I have been able to do some cool stuff. For instance, a la my trip to INTAG, I just got the opportunity to set up an English program in a small Sierra town called Guaranda. I must admit that these types of responsibilities are what drives me to continue life in Ecuador.

It all started a couple of weeks ago while I was investigating possible sites for our volunteers and came across a note that mentioned that someone in Guaranda was interested in receiving volunteers. I sent one of those random cold call emails to the address listed on the piece of srcap paper, not thinking that anything would come of it. PS cold calling is hilarious, especially on email. I wrote something to the effect of,

"Hi. I have never met you before but I have this random piece of paper in my office with your name on it. Let's be friends and start an English Program. "

Sure enough about a week later there was a reply in my inbox that said "Sure. What do we do?" So I sent the big test. We have a document that describes our program for potential participants with a list of questions at the end. You can always tell which schools are serious by how extensive their replies to the questions are. Sometimes you get half assed BS and sometimes you get BS.

Thus you can imagine my suprise when I received a well written document. Happy at the reply I dialed up the contact person in Guaranda and explained that I would like to come visist. The reply?

"Hi Kane. I will send the University's private chofer to come get you on Monday morning."

What? No overnight bus??? No wandering around aimlessly looking for someone that is never going to show up? Could this be true?

Then comes another message. "Kane. I am actually going to come pick you up myself in my own car because I am excited to meet you and hear more about your program."

Wow. Despite the fact that I immediately thought "huge potential for long awkward conversation" this is definitely a first for my organization and me. I write back. "Done. See you on Monday." By the way. "Hecho" is the Spanish word for "Done." Unbeliebly useful. Feel free to bounce this around the states and see if it catches on. Just give credit where credit is due.

Anyway. I am standing around outside my apartment waiting for my ride when I have one of those classic blind date moments. "Are you (insert name here)? No? Oh. Sorry. My B. I mistook you for the other random person I have never met in my life." I continue waiting.

Finally I see a short (suprise!) man approaching me with the blind date look in his eye. I go up and sure enough I have found my contact. "Kung?"

Quick side note: This is one of the weirdest phenomena in Ecuador for me. Since neither the long "a" nor the end of word "n" sound exist in Spanish, my name is one of the most fundamentally butchered names in all of the land. It comes out in a weird hum like sound. I have Ecuadorian friends who always ask me, "Why don't you just have people call you by an Ecuadorian name? It would be way easier." My response? It's a cultural experience.

Anyway I hop in the car with my first Guarandenos. My contact, Christian is missing an arm but looks cheery and happy. His wife is beautiful, but quiet. His daughter is a little gordita cutie. Off we go...

TBC