Out and About Cuenca

• People who work in offices seem to have a pretty strict dress code. The streets are always full of workers wearing matching clothing, as if they were twins.
• Cuencanos love to stroll and walk arm-in-arm, which makes them super difficult to pass on sidewalks. Sometime I feel like I’m playing Red Rover as I try to get around them.
• As slow as they can walk, you put them behind a wheel and they go crazy! Pedestrians DO NOT have the right away here and you risk your life thinking you do.
• HONKING. I have never heard so much in my entire life. Cars will zoom down the road and honk at every single corner to ensure that no one pulls out in front of them. And if the front car at a stoplight hasn’t successfully anticipated the changing of the light, the whole line will remind him the millisecond it turns green, if not before.
• Motorcycles love to sneak in and around traffic and one day I stepped off a curb and was nearly hit by one that came out of nowhere. Surprisingly, about half of the motorcyclists I see are wearing helmets.
• The public bus system is super efficient. Unfortunately, they pour out so much contamination that you seriously have to cover your face and not breathe until you have walked through the nasty black cloud of pollution.
• Women here are definitely more feminine and I can’t get over how they can successfully race across the cobblestone streets and slippery sidewalks without wiping out on their stilettos.
• Guys don’t wear sandals and women don’t leave the house wearing shorts, even during the hottest days. Host mom says this would be considered inelegant.
• Occasionally you’ll catch a man relieving himself, like the day I looked out the window and saw a man making his mark on a telephone pole near my house. Lovely.
• People don’t think twice about throwing their trash on the street. Fortunately, there’s a really great cleanup crew that wears brightly colored customs and spends its time sweeping up dog crap and everyone’s trash.
• I have yet to find any means of recycling and I cringe every time I have to throw a water bottle into the trash, especially after having worked in recycling and composting at Luther this past semester.
• According to my host parents, they have never seen rain like this, and if you don’t bring your umbrella with you in the afternoons, you will inevitably get wet. We all look like a bunch of Mary Poppins.

Canyoning and Bridge Swinging

Sunday morning we awakened to discover that the Easter Bunny failed to find us in Baños. Not only that, but roomie and I were super sick. However, medicine really does work wonders and it had our systems under control before we were scheduled to go canyoning (canyoneering in the US). Canyoning is basically traveling through canyons; on our adventure, this involved repelling down waterfalls. It was definitely a surreal experience to be walking down waterfalls and I couldn’t wrap my head around it while I was repelling. I still can’t. We got to wear some pretty snazzy wetsuits and some bottom thing that reminded me of a diaper. I told the guide this and he proceeded to call me “baby” for our remaining time together. Wonderful. Anyway, I don’t have a whole lot of repelling experience and when you throw in Spanish directions and water it makes for one entertaining experience. It definitely required more concentration than I was expecting and I focused a lot of energy on where I was going to put my feet so that I wouldn’t slip and smash my face into the rocks.

The biggest thrill came when we made it to the grand finale. Standing at the top of the waterfall, I looked over the edge and all I could think about was how far away the ground seemed and I was officially crazy thinking I was going to step off the ledge. However, this proved to be the easiest waterfall as it only included about ten feet of repelling before the rock face disappeared and you basically just chilled as you lowered yourself to the ground while the waterfall sprayed you. It was a pretty cool sensation to just hang out suspended in air while enjoying the view of the canyon.

However, the real adrenaline rush came later on that afternoon when my friend Jess convinced me that we should try Bridge Swinging. At first I was not so much a fan of this idea (I was thinking about my poor stomach, the fact that we had an 8-hr bus ride ahead of us, and I REALLY didn’t want to mess up my back or neck). However, once we stopped our guide jumped first to calm our nerves. As soon as I saw him dive off, my endorphins went crazy and I knew there was no way I could leave without jumping. So I did.

The most nerve-racking part was standing up on the side of the bridge. I was all harnessed in and there was a bungee like cord attached to my front that was also attached to the bottom of the bridge. So I stood up on the bridge with buses and cars passing behind me, counted to three, and turned into Pocahontas as I dove down towards the raging river below. I flew, I really did! And it was exactly like I always dreamed it would be, gaining speed while I plummeted and wind whipping everywhere. Too bad it lasted less than a second and then the bungee reached the end and I swung back and forth under the bridge until someone threw me a rope and reeled me in. The sensation was quite a bit different than skydiving was, probably because I was jumping all by myself and had no lovely parachute to save me. In the end, I was still in one piece with no aches whatsoever. Not gonna lie, the Leap of Faith at camp is never going to be the same. Psh, who am I kidding? I'll still shake like it's nobody's business. I’m so thankful I didn’t let my conscious talk me out of this adventure as it was DEFINITELY AMAZING. If you’re looking for some super cheap and incredible outdoor adventures, Ecuador is where it’s at.

Brown Water Rafting

The next morning we woke up and could barely move. So we decided to keep a low profile for the day and waddled around Baños and visited the zoo. Lame-o, most definitely. To be honest, it was so nice to be in a touristy town where you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Saturday morning we went white water rafting (more like brown water) with some guys from Guayaquil, a town on the coast. During the mandatory safety discussion I was so THANKFUL that I’d gone rafting before and therefore had somewhat of an idea of what the guide was probably explaining to us. When I went rafting in Canada last year my goal was, you know, to stay in the raft. Seemed logical. However, this was TOTALLY not the mentality of our guide as we partook in what I perceived to be the most risky rafting behavior ever. Our raft would purposely aim for the largest rocks in the river and at one point, when the river was somewhat tranquil (a rare occasion), our guide commanded us to stand up on the raft. And I don’t mean stand up on the inside of the raft. Oh no. We were most definitely standing on the outside of the raft while we cruised down the river. Somehow I managed to stay on board; but oh man, if I even began to tip I would grab on to someone so we would have capsized together. Later on our guide commanded us all to move to the right side of the raft and we tipped over and floated through some low-key rapids. At one point I was totally concentrating on rowing with my team when I was kidnapped by another raft and held hostage until they literally threw me overboard. Needless to say, the whole adventure was an absolute BLAST!

Not to mention, we got to practice our Spanish. At first we girls were like, there’s no WAY those guys are from Ecuador because they were super tall and light skinned. But indeed they were all from Guayaquil and they were studying to be lawyers and businessmen. It was so refreshing to be around the opposite sex without having to worry about them whistling at you. It was pretty funny conversing with them because they wanted to practice their English. So we’d talk to them in Spanish and they’d talk to us in English. They were around 23-years-old and all eight of them have been friends since kindergarten. I’ve found that life long friends is definitely a common trend here. People are born, raised, and die in the same place. It was super interesting talking to these guys because they came right out and admitted that a lot of discrimination exists between the coast and the highlands. For as small as Ecuador is (about the size of Colorado) there truly is a lot of hostility, especially between the three main cities, Guayaquil, Quito, and Cuenca. This really surprised me at first because I thought Ecuador would be a tight-knit country due to it’s small size. But the guys explained that they generally don’t get along with people from the highlands because there’s “too much history”. I wasn’t going to take that for an answer and asked why they couldn’t be the generation to change things. They just shrugged it off and once again said, “There’s too much history” and that I wouldn’t understand. Most unfortunate. When I got home I told host mom that I’d hung out with some nice guys from Guayaquil just to see her reaction. She was like “Oh! You hung out with monos (monkeys)!” People from the highlands refer to people who live on the coast as monkeys and my host family even calls Amelia (who lives in Guayaquil) a monkey. Although in her case it’s obviously a term of endearment. Apparently people from the highlands think those on the coast are super lazy and that all they want to do is party. It's been super interesting to be an outsider looking into this culture.

Easter Procession

Hope everyone had a Joyous Easter! Mine was packed full of extreme adventure. I chose to leave Cuenca for our three-day holiday; so unfortunately, I can't share too much about what went on locally. I do know that on Thursday night host mom participated in a procession that stopped at seven different churches to symbolize Christ's walk to Calvary. At each church they visited two stations of the cross. On Friday the family ate Fanesca, some sort of fish soup that is a traditional Easter meal. They were kind enough to save some for me and I will be trying it this weekend (along with Chancho, a little pig). There is no such thing as the Easter bunny down here and I definitely felt silly explaining how a bunny used to leave me chocolate outside my bedroom door.

After classes on Thursday, three students and I embarked on a seven-hour bus journey up North to Baños de Ambato. We'd heard that the road between Ambato and Baños would be closed for an annual pilgrimage that started at 7 pm. At first we were somewhat bummed and then it dawned on us that we could join the pilgrimage! After all, it was only supposed to be four hours long and since we've done some pretty intense hiking in the Andes, we figured it was nothing that we couldn't handle. Not to mention, this pilgrimage didn’t seem to be as intense as the one in Quito, where individuals whip themselves on the back while they walk. When the bus made it to Amabato and we saw a throng of people stretching down the street, we knew it was our cue to get out and begin the experience of a lifetime. Since this was a religious procession, I had visions of people marching with crosses and figurines of Jesus with mourning music in the background. This may have been so in the front, but we were 1 1/2 hour behind. There were no crosses or sad music, but boys carrying boom boxes blasting some upbeat music that definitely kept you moving and there were loads of vendors along the sides of the road. It was all we could do to keep up with the locals, as they were speed demons! Most of the group was around my age and younger. We saw throngs of kids who didn't appear to have any supervision whatsoever. The walk was mainly downhill, and lit with street lamps when we passed through small towns and a full moon that helped silhouette the Volcano, which was inactive this time. It was pretty incredible to soak it all in as you choked up the dust from all of the movement.

Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to talk to too many people because they were seriously that much faster than us and it was all we could do to not lose each other in the throng of thousands. But after a while the excitement of the first few hours disappeared and we got tired... and then sore joints and shin splints consumed our thoughts ... and we became pretty cranky. When four hours rolled around my feet were on fire, back was aching from carrying my heavy backpack, and my legs were suffering from the constant pounding of walking downhill on concrete. It’s incredible how easy it is to complain. The walk definitely provided me with a lot of think time and I realized how I just THOUGHT I was experiencing pain. When compared to Christ’s walk to Calvary… I quickly shut up and tried to focus on how good I had it. It wasn’t raining. For once my stomach was in excellent shape. I still had pure water to drink. I was blown away by all of the little kids who kept racing past me. How in the world did they do it?! Did people really do this more than once in their life?! Crazies! I definitely had a lot of respect for them. When we came upon the final mountain ridge I saw a golden cross shining at the top of some far off mountain. If that was the endpoint, there was no way I was going to make it and I was about ready to call it quits and camp on the side of the road. When we finally arrived in Baños, we discovered that the town was wide-awake and that the streets were full of people settling down for a couple hours of rest on the sidewalks. I wish I could report that we followed the procession all the way to the church in Baños, but we were so dog-tired that we were more than ready to retire. When we finally found our hostel, it was
3:30 in the morning. We had walked over 25 miles in seven hours, and our bloody and blistered feet were ready to be done.

Case of the Cold Shower

Showering here in Cuenca can be pretty tricky. Some people have electric showers and you have to flip a switch in the shower area to get warm water. I got to do this in Guatemala last spring break and quickly discovered that if you’re not careful, you will electrocute yourself. My host family heats their water with gas. During my second week here I discovered that our gas box is located outside of our house. Some families have their gas boxes inside the house, which is a pretty scary deal when you think about poisoning. Anyway, I was glad my family’s was located outside. However, that means that the little gas flame falls victim quite often to the wind and the rain; and therefore, tends to go out pretty easily. Thus, no cold water. At first host mom told me to come and get her whenever I had cold water and then she would go check the flame. However, I was not a fan of this plan because it entailed waking her up in the morning and I did not want to do that. Showering at night has proven to be about 95% more likely to produce warm water. Sweet deal.

It certainly took a while, but I have the system figured out now. First, one must run the hot water in the sink and wait for it to heat up. Thankfully, this only takes about two minutes (much faster than the shower) and then you turn on the shower and quickly make the most of your two minutes of super warm water before it suddenly turns chilly once again.

However, there are other variables that affect whether or not one will take a warm shower. For instance, due to the intense amount of rain, mudslides have wiped out many roads, which sometimes makes it impossible for gas to make it from the coast to Cuenca. Apparently the town is suffering from quite the gas shortage. However, this really only affected my family about two different times. My solution was to do a few crunches before showering so I could get super warm before facing the freezing cold water. It served as a pretty good incentive to get back into shape too. Whatever the case, warm (if not hot) showers are definitely the norm now, and not the exception. It’s AMAZING how much delight a warm shower provides.

Bus Bathrooms

Traveling long distances on public buses provides for some pretty interesting experiences. But the one I want to focus on today is the bathroom. When we traveled to Vilcabamba I sat in the very front of the bus. Four hours into the seven hour trip, I woke from my drugged Dramamine state (the only way to go in the winding mountains) and realized I’d be doomed if I didn’t relieve myself asap. Thank heavens the bus had a bathroom. Also, the woman sitting next to me was super kind, and because I really didn’t want to drag all of my stuff to the back of the bus into the bathroom with me, I convinced myself that I felt safe leaving everything with her (always a gamble, and one that I probably shouldn’t have made, but I lucked out). I asked her if I’d have to pay to use the restroom and she told me that all I had to do was get the keys from the front. Somehow the man who sits in the front (not the bus driver, but the man who collects the fare) managed to drop the keys on the dashboard and they slid around for a while before he finally retrieved them. Finally, I began the long and dangerous trip to the back of the bus. The aisle was jam packed full of people, some standing, some sitting, and really little kids sprawled out on the floor. Due to the ridiculous mudslides, the roads were in horrendous shape and we were bouncing around everywhere.

I finally made it to the back (without smashing anyone on the ground or launching myself into anyone sitting) only to discover one heck of a nasty bathroom. So I took a deep breath, entered, and quickly realized that the view outside was quite lovely and that everything and everybody that I could see in the countryside could see me as well. GULP. Also, remember the potholes and bouncing around everywhere? Thankfully, there were even handlebars so you could hold on for dear life while praying that you wouldn’t actually touch the toilet seat or somehow bounce right out of the bathroom. Just for the record, if you ever travel to Latin America, make sure you bring your own toilet paper, as it is a very rare occasion to come across some in a restroom. And for that matter, hand sanitizer will come in quite handy as well. Yeah, it’s definitely gross to think about how many people don’t wash their hands… so you try not to focus on that too much. Fortunately, I’m always prepared. Thankfully, that was the only trip I had to make to the back of the bus because obviously this is an experience you choose to partake in only if you ABSOLUTELY have to. As well as training my stomach, I'm now training my bladder as well.

To Market to Market

This was a pretty low-key wkd. Saturday morning I made Russian empanadas at a friend’s house and that night we went to another friend’s to celebrate her boyfriend’s birthday. He had just flown in from the states and her host family offered to throw him a surprise party. We celebrated the old-fashioned way with pizza and cake. Of course, no Ecuadorian party would be complete without dancing. I’m pretty sure I give off some anti-dancing aroma so I’m always amazed when I’m literally dragged out on the dance floor no matter how much I protest. People are just that bound and determined to make sure I discover the joy of dancing. This is really sweet of them and they always have lots of patience, but most definitely a lost cause when it comes to me. This time it was some host cousin that wouldn’t take no for answer. Unfortunately, instead of joining us on the dance floor, my friends preferred to remain sitting on the sidelines where they laughingly enjoyed every moment of my pathetic dance moves.

I really wish we could have hung around Cuenca for Palm Sunday; but alas, we had another mini-trip to take. The street outside of the main cathedral in town was lined with people selling the most beautiful braided palms. Unfortunately, most of these palms are from the Orient, where countless trees are destroyed just for Palm Sunday. Host mom explained how this year was the first year that many churches prohibited their parishioners from purchasing these elaborate palms. Kudos to them.

We first took off for Gualeceo where we visited the local indoor and outdoor markets where you could buy woven and embroidered goods, fruits, veggies, spices, meat, etc. The fresh fruit here is incredible and so much tastier than the stuff back home. Just make sure you wash it first, otherwise you’ll be logging in a lot of bathroom time and wishing you’d never laid eyes upon it. Moving on. This town was full of indigenous folks in their traditional clothing (big colorful skirts, white blouses for the women, and white hats). The highlight had to be seeing guinea pigs roasting just outside of the market, face and all. Definitely not a sight that leaves your mouth watering and your tummy saying, “Get me some of that.” No way. No, I have not tried it yet; my stomach is still in training and I’m thinking guinea pig will be the pinnacle of my Ecuadorian food experience. Give it another month. We then continued to Chordeleg, which is known for its jewelry and handicrafts. I found some more beautiful hammocks. This is turning into quite the outrageous obsession…

John Wayne Style

I’m not sure how much coverage it actually got in the states or how it may have been twisted to fit Bush’s wipe out the terrorists agenda, but two weekends ago Colombian troops entered Ecuador and killed the Farc rebel leader. Ecuador and Venezuela immediately sent troops up to secure their borders and the Embassy advised Americans to keep a low profile. While the rest of Latin America backed up Ecuador, good old Bush backed up Columbia. Nobody around Cuenca seemed to be too upset and now that all three presidents had their pictures taken giving each other hugs everything is apparently back in order. How did this affect me? Well… this past Thursday we were supposed to head to the jungle for Spring break and decided to postpone the trip. At the last minute some of us got on a bus and traveled seven hours south to Vilcabamba, which has easily been the most picturesque place in Ecuador I have seen yet. While there I experienced one of the most thrilling adventures of my life: riding a horse in the Andes Mountains for six hours.

Way back in fifth grade I made one small (and guided) loop on a horse at Camp Wapsie. Somehow, within the past ten years the opportunity to ride a horse never presented itself and I had to travel all the way to Ecuador to do so. Keep in mind, I have ABSOLUTELY no idea what I’m doing when it comes to horses; so the only way I can properly share this experience with you is if I let you take a peek into my thought process....

Hmmm… How am I supposed to get on this thing? You know, I think I would have preferred a more long-term game plan for this big event. Something like… Day one: look at horse. Day two: touch horse. Day three: put saddle on horse. Day four: get on horse… maybe. Wow, I’m actually on the horse. “Do you have any hints? Anyone?” No reply. Someone slaps the horse’s butt and off we go.

Hey. This isn’t so bad. I can do this. Wait. No one’s in front of me and there are five horses and riders behind me. Story of my life, always holding up traffic. Shoot! Sorry friends.
Horse stops. ”Come on Kate, show it who’s boss!”
“Right. Yes. Exactly.” How do I do that?
So I squeeze the horse with my feet. Jingle the reigns. Ask it to please move forward. Wait, you’re talking to it in English. Bet he doesn’t understand English; better try Spanish instead. Crap, that’s not working either. Horse language? The guide keeps whistling. Yeah, try that! Man, I can’t believe I don’t know how to whistle! Still no movement. Goodness gracious this is embarrassing. Guide jumps off his horse, runs up to me and gives the horse another slap on the rear and off we go again.
Encounter very large precipice. Oh dear. There’s no way we’re going to make it up that. How in the world? Maybe I should get off. Wait, how do I do that? Yikes! Hold on for dear life we are actually attempting to go up this impossible precipice! Woah! We made it! And I’m still on the horse. Heck yes! I can do this!

Horse leaves trail and stops, obviously forfeiting her leadership position to become a follower. That’s cool; I’m down with being a follower. The guide keeps saying “Pasa!” I’ll add that to my useful vocab. “Pasa, caballo!” We somehow end up behind Gaseous Gandolph. Dang it, "pasa" does not mean pass gas, it means keep moving! Crazy horses.

Maybe I should grip the reigns more firmly. I mean, obviously maintain all of this slack but perhaps I’ll trick the horse into thinking I really know what I’m doing. Right, that’s the key! You’re supposed to develop a good relationship with your horse, right? Man, I’m failing miserably; her ears are practically straight back. Maybe I should give her a name. Why didn’t I ask what her name was? Izzy, that’s it. I’ll call her Izzy because we are going every Izzy Willy Nilly way except the right one. That is, when we’re actually moving. No, no, No! Get away from the barb wired fence! Whew, that was close. And the tree! Yes, that will be black and blue tomorrow. No worries, you’re still on the horse!

“Is anyone else’s horse breathing really hard?” Chorus of “No’s.” Dang it. This horse isn’t big enough for me! She’s used to small Latino men and women and because I’m the shortest in the group, she got stuck with me! She sure is making me feel like a real fatso. What happens if she dies on this trek? Oh dear. What if I die too? At least then I won’t have to live with the guilt of killing her. Negative thinking get out! Only positive thoughts!

I am officially in the back of the group. What if I get left behind? Oh great, now there are five men hiking behind me and they are moving faster than me. Why don’t they just pass us? We are slowing them down so much… Horse, please keep moving forward, and don’t embarrass me in front of these guys. I’m trying to converse with you in horse language and these kissing sounds I have to make to keep you moving are really getting old. Ok, they’re still behind us. You can’t ignore them forever. Build up the courage to say something… Horse totally farts in their faces. Oh man! Well, here we go. “Sorry about that. That’s our acceleration.” HAHAHA! How lame! And in Spanish! Who knows what you actually said?! But they are kind and reply. They are French men. I attempt to carry on a conversation with them in Spanish until a bush almost sideswipes me off my saddle and I decide to stay focused on where my horse is taking me.

Lunch break. Oh my goodness. I don't think I can walk. Time to get back on horses. Already? Crap! Which one’s mine? Really Kate? You can’t even remember if your horse had a white mark on her head? You’re pathetic. Just wait for everyone else to get on their horse first. Yeah, great plan! Successfully mount horse.
“What is going on here? What are we doing? I think my horse is trying to sit down! Help! Someone?” Dear God, it’s actually going to buck me off.
“Kate, horses can’t sit.”
“Oh yeah, right.”
“But yeah, it does look like its legs are giving out or something.”
“WHAT?! Its legs are giving out?! I’m too big for my horse! How are we ever going to make it back?”

Alright. Project develop a better relationship. Step one: what’s my horse’s real name?
“Whisky? And it’s a guy?” No wonder we weren’t doing so well! Poor thing!
Wow. That waterfall is amazing! And that canyon. Dang, one misstep and we could totally plummet down forever. AGH! Is that erosion on the path?! Whiskey, PLEASE don't step there. Open your eyes Kate, goodness gracious. Have a little faith.

We take off galloping. WOOHOO! Heck yes this is so much fun! I feel like John Wayne. Who are you kidding? You've never even seen a John Wayne movie. Wait, why are we still galloping? There are boulders in this path! How do you stop this thing? Pull on the reigns! What in the world provoked that?
“Kate, my horse just bit your horse’s butt.”
“WHAT?! Melissa, tell your horse not to bite my horse’s butt!” I’m going to die.

Then I decide goading might work well. “Pretty Whiskey.” Shoot, you’re a male! “Handsome Whisky.” “Big Whisky. Strong Whisky.” Whiskey shakes his head in a nod. Hmmm… I wonder what that means. I’ll just pretend like he’s replying “Of course, Kate!”

Shlop, shlop, shlop. Man, I'm so glad you’re walking through this muck and not me. If I were you, I’d probably buck me off into this mud. “What, I have to get off the horse? This incline is too slippery?” Ok, I guess. Shlop, shlop, shlop. Nasty. Poor tennies.

Treacherous river crossing: horses cross on their own. And we… cross on that really slippery tree that’s fallen across the rushing river? No way! Too cool! Wow. Mission accomplished. Wait… where are the horses? Fifteen minutes later… the guide has found them. Smart horses, I would have run away too. Whiskey probably led the charge up the mountain. Man, he REALLY doesn't like me.

Holy cow, I'm REALLY riding a horse through the Andes Mountains. This is nuts!

Really, this was quite an intense experience. I generally like to feel in control, and I totally did not feel in control on top of that horse. However, it was comforting to know that Whiskey obviously had an instinct to take care of himself as well, whether or not he cared what happened to me. So wait, does this make me an experienced rider now? Oh dear. I hope not because I still know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about horses.

Religion

Like I said before, 95% of Cuencanos are Catholic, including my host family. Religion is definitely a big part of this community and oftentimes while walking on the streets, I’ll notice individuals cross themselves whenever they pass a cathedral. Also, from my second floor room I can see that several houses in my neighborhood have crosses adorning their rooftops. In my house, there are countless images in almost every room of the most caucasian looking Virgin Mary and Jesus that I have ever seen in my entire life. Host mom even has an entire shrine dedicated to Mary and Jesus in her bedroom. I totally lucked out with the gift I gave her when I first arrived. It was an angel, and she couldn’t stop exclaiming over it and she explained that she goes to church every single day to light a candle and pray that angels will watch over every member of her family. She also said that she prays for my studies and whenever I leave the house, she prays that God goes with me. What a cool feeling when someone tells you they're praying for you in your everyday, ordinary life.

When dinner finished the other night, she crossed herself real slowly. She noticed that her 12-yr-old granddaughter did not cross herself and she asked her why she didn’t and commented “How ugly.” The granddaughter, Emily, explained that she doesn't cross herself because isn’t Catholic (she’s non-denominational) and host mom replied, “Well you’re Christian, aren’t you?” She proceeded to ask me if Lutherans cross themselves in the states and I explained that while it was definitely a Catholic practice, you usually don't catch too many Lutherans crossing themselves, at least where I come from. Then the three of us sat around and talked about prayer for awhile. More like, host mom talked and Amelia and I listened attentively. She talked about the importance of thanking God for all of his many blessings and how one really shouldn’t ask God for things but ask that His will be done no matter what. I was a big fan of what she had to say and thought how awesome it was that she could have this conversation with her granddaughter and that Emily was definitely intrigued by what her grandma had to say. When host mom speaks about her prayer life and what an honor it is for her to be in the Lord’s presence, her face just radiates and her passion definitely overflows. It’s pretty cool.

I also had a pretty comical conversation with Leo. She asked if Lutherans believed in God and I almost burst out laughing before explaining that of course we do. I then tried to describe the major differences between Catholicism and Lutheranism. However, Mother Mary is extremely important to this woman and Leo just can’t seem to understand why Lutherans don’t pray to her.

I had yet another interesting conversation with one of the elderly nuns that helps run the orphanage. I think this woman was first appalled when she realized I wasn’t Catholic and then when I tried to… I don’t know, make up for it… by reminding her that the Lutheran church was started by a Catholic man, she was totally unimpressed and said that Martin Luther was a bad man because he didn’t obey the pope (Papa). I briefly tried to defend Martin Luther but didn’t want things to turn too sour so I smiled and gave up. At least she let’s this sinner hang out with her kids.

Scotcheroos!

• Azucar (sugar) …… ……………………………...........…$0.64
• Miel de Maiz (corn syrup)…………………........…….…$2.30
• Crema de Mani (JIF peanut butter)..……….…........….$4.38
• Arroz Crocante (Rice Krispies)…………………........…$1.56
• Chocolate………………………....................................$2.40
• Bag of Peanut M&M’s... (didn’t buy these)............….$9.52
• Butterscotch chips (MIA in Cuenca)…………......................
• Getting my name in the Family’s cookbook.............I’ll spare you

I like to bake, especially when I’m stressed. And since this is finals week, I was anticipating stress (it never came) and the perfect remedy is obviously peanut butter and chocolate. So Friday night before the sun set I explored a new part of town while looking for a Supermaxi, Cuenca’s modern day grocery store. Upon entering the store I had to hand over my backpack to security and they guarded it for me while I shopped. Then I discovered how such a small chore like shopping can turn into a big triumph when in a foreign country. The layout of the store was much like a Fareway at home; however, I of course was still confused and made many circles with my cart. For the life of me I couldn’t find anything resembling chocolate chips and when I finally gave in and asked an employee, he directed me to these ridiculously small chocolate pebbles. Ummm… no.

The next morning after wandering around the Otavalan market in Cuenca (where I somehow managed to walk away with two unpurchased hammocks before the poor girl came chasing after me… I was SO horrified and apologized PROFUSELY. WHAT has gotten into me… Scatterbrained…the girl had just handed over the hammocks and somehow I completely forgot that the payment transaction had never taken place…), host mom drove a few of my CEDEI friends and me to a small little shop that sold corn syrup and delicious chocolate! Score! Upon returning I realized that host mom, Leo (I think she was nervous I was going to burn down her kitchen, which didn’t happen, just a pot or two…), and Amelia (who now wants to be called Emily?) were super interested in what we were about to attempt and so they hung around the kitchen, peering over our shoulders as we prepared the oh so incredibly difficult scotcheroos. Now usually baking is a way I relieve stress. Me. By myself. Relieving stress. So first off, inviting my friends over to participate was a big step. And then having another three people under foot… Dag yo. Not to mention, host mom likes everything to be just perfect and so her presence alone was pretty intimidating and almost enough to make a person go bonkers.

But we pulled through, and when we were done my host family was so impressed that host mom immediately pulled out her recipe book and totally entered Kate Gringita with the Scotcheroo recipe underneath. WOOHOO! My friends also took some home to their families and now they all think we’re the most marvelous cooks ever. If only they really knew. But now more families have been blessed with the wonderfulness that is scotcheroos. HOORAY! Host Dad enjoyed them so much that he asked me if I could make them again and promised that he would buy the ingredients for me. Good deal. Next up, high altitude chocolate chip cookies. Emily and I are going to give it a go one of these days.

Beautiful Souls at Miguel Leon

This past semester I took a service learning course and was super blessed with the opportunity to hang out at Miguel Leon, an orphanage run by nuns (who really do wear habits). I have always had this crazy, naive, and romantized dream about one day working in an orphanage and so it’s been eye opening and grounding to see one actually in action. Before, whenever I thought of orphans, I pictured forlorn children, starving for affection. However, when I’m around these girls, they are usually anything BUT forlorn and I never could have imagined how much love they could abundantly shower upon me. Most of these girls have pretty rough backgrounds as many have been abused. Also, many are in fact not orphans, but their parents can’t afford to take care of them. Therefore, sometimes the parents will visit on the weekends. One time I was reading with two girls when their mom showed up. It was really interesting and somewhat sad to watch the girls’ reactions because they didn’t seem super elated when they saw their mom and didn’t get up to hug her or anything. Instead, they got really shy. Also, there’s even a story going around that a few of the girls are actually princesses in a jungle tribe; but their father, who is the tribe’s leader, doesn’t want his girls to be married off at the customary age of twelve. Who knows?

There about thirty girls at Miguel Leon. They each share a room with about eight other girls. They wake up at 5 in the morning, have breakfast (bread and fruit) and go to classes at various schools in Cuenca during the mornings. They return to Miguel Leon and have lunch, and then go to classrooms at the orphanage where they work on homework until about 5:30 while under the supervision of someone (not a nun) who comes in to help the girls with their homework. I come to Miguel Leon in the afternoons and primarily help the ten-year-old girls with their English homework, especially the oh so fun verb “to be.” We write countless sentences: “Gloria is talking. Germania is playing. Kate is flying.” I also brought some English books from home and occasionally I will read one to a couple of the girls. Only since their English is not too advanced, this involves me trying my best to translate. But they are always super patient with me and just LOVE listening to the story of Cinderella. Unfortunately, I’m really only helpful when it comes to English. One day a girl needed help with math, and while that lovely subject is FAR from my favorite, I was like, ok, yeah, I can do this fifth grade math. Thinking you know, that the beauty of math is that it’s a universal language. Boy was I wrong. This girl was working on long division and Cuencanos have got the CRAZIEST way of doing long division ever. I just stared while the girl went through the steps and continued to have absolutely no idea what she was doing... When supervised homework time is over the girls have dinner, maybe watch a movie, and then head to bed before eight. Every Saturday and Sunday morning they walk to church where they attend mass and first communion classes. When they turn eighteen, they leave Miguel Leon and enter the real world. Some go back home to live with their parents, some get married, and some start working. I can’t help but wonder what this transition is like for them.

One thing I’ve been super impressed by is the sense of community these girls have at the orphanage. They function just like a team and everyone appears to have a special niche and definitely has to carry her own weight. Every Friday the girls hand wash all of their dirty clothes. Have you ever hand washed clothes before? I’ve hand washed stains and such before, but never entire articles of clothing at one time. I've now got to spend two different Fridays hand washing clothes. It is tough work and one’s hands definitely get beaten up and scraped raw. But these girls scrub away for hours and make everything clean without even complaining. It’s ridiculous. But they do it because it they don't, they're not going to have clean clothers. The other day they asked me if I wash my clothes and I was embarrassed to admit that Leo the maid washes my clothes (by hand). The girls also set their own tables for meals and clean up after themselves. I had to wonder what sort of values these girls will form and how those values differ from other Ecuadorians’. From what I can tell so far, based upon my family and others, moms really pamper their children and the kids hardly appear to have any responsibilities whatsoever. Yes, the girls at Miguel Leon have the nuns; but ultimately, they really have to look out for themselves and each other. They are super independent and know how to work hard.

They have the best personalities too. There’s Gloria, who always has the most mischievous grin ever. When she gets frustrated with her homework she just grabs her hair and shakes her head really fast. Then there’s Germania, who is so determined to learn English and constantly asks me to quiz her on her vocab. Carolina is quiet and moody but every once in awhile she’ll sneak in a smile. These girls are OBSESSED with High School Musical and listen to the soundtrack every day while doing homework.

This past Saturday my fellow volunteers (Alison and Tim) and I made Scotcheroos and went to the orphanage to watch the Lizzie McGuire movie with the girls. Only before we could do anything, they took us up to their rooms, which the Head Mother said they had to clean before we could watch the movie. Their rooms contained beds that were lined up against one wall (just like I’d pictured from the movies) and covered with stuffed animals. Every girl also had a wardrobe. While some of us were making beds and sweeping,the girls went running around capturing pictures of the craziest things! The Scotcheroos were totally a hit and we're excited to spend another Saturday afternoon with them (Hopefully the next one won't be spent in front of the tv). These girls really are wonderful and bring so much joy to my days. It will be tough to say goodbye in a few months.