Notes on Reliability

I have always thought of myself as a reliable person. I work hard, I try to never be late, if I make a promise I will do everything I can to keep it. I am loyal and faithful and if I love you, watch out, 'cause you're really gonna get it.

I am constantly heartbroken, however, when the world is not as reliable. I am fully aware of my control issues, thank you very much, but this is a little more specific. When people give their word, I have expectations. Actually, I have extremely high expectations, since your commitment to other people is the most important thing in life, I'm pretty sure.

So anyway, when people let me down, I fall hard. And it takes everything I've got and then some to forgive that person (if I ever do, I'm also aware of my trust issues, thanks).

So, last night was the Earth Day program that I had been planning for a month. It turned out great, mainly because there were a lot of great people helping me out. However, it was truly a blessing that it wasn't a total flop.

The Municipio (basically the City Hall) totally bailed on me last minute. As in, all the help and materials they promised me for the program (giant screen for the Environmental Education presentation and movie, tables and tents, and general volunteers) were instead used in a different program in the main park. A political program, which was encouraging people to vote a certain way next week by offering dancers flown in from the mainland, free booze, and singing. This was the mayor's doing, using public materials for his political agenda.

Secondly, many of the volunteers and anticipated performers bailed, too. There was supposed to be a band (they weren't around), there were supposed to be a small show of giant puppets made from recycled materials (not ready yet), and the Queen of San Cristobal, one of the English students, was supposed to make an appearance and give a short introduction to the program's festivities. Apparently she had better things to do...

So there we were, a small group of gringas and a few locals, reorganizing the schedule, using the two tables (three more were later scrounged up) that were supposed to be eight, hanging hand-painted signs, offering face painting and recycled material arts, and waiting for everyone else to show up.

Luckily, once the few of us donned our costumes made from recycled materials, a few kids happened by and the spirits were soaring.

One little boy, (the little brother of one of my students) was the very first to come. He rode up on his little skate-scooter, his mom following behind him. He was the poster-child for enthusiasm, wanting to know everything about everything that was going on; he got his face painted, participated in the art station, played cardboard frisbee, rode his scooter all over the place, and was surely one of the last to leave almost three hours later.

Vicente, my soon-to-be father-in-law, a natural leader and joker, was happy to take the microphone (when one showed up) and between reggae songs, did the announcements.

After about an hour of arts and general silliness, the bike contest began. Police cones were arranged and around fifteen kids on bikes and skateboards and little scooters participated again and again until the winners were selected. They received adorable books about bike safety, written and donated by the Charles Darwin Foundation. We also awarded them each t-shirts, as we had ample gifts that had been donated from the local agencies and businesses.

A while later, the kids who were in costume took the stage and described their costumes. There was a girl in cardboard mini skirt with matching vest, a boy with karate pants and shirt made from trash bags, two robots, and "organic trash" a boy with a mask and wearing a trash sack. All very original costumes which had obviously been labored on with great care. All were winners, so they also were awarded t-shirts.

Next there was a local naturalist guide who had created a special presentation about the history and importance of Earth Day. Without the screen, we just projected it on the wall and it turned out great.

Finally we had the adult costume contest. This was a very difficult contest, as there were seven of us women who had very eclectic costumes. There were three who had truly gotten into the spirit of a festival and used only recycled materials, while a few others (myself included) had less impressive costumes.

After strutting around on the stage, begging for applause and describing the materials we had used, the winners were picked. Because I had mandated all my students to come, the applause I received put me into third place. I bowed out of the prizes, however, because I felt like the other participants deserved the prizes, while my prize was that everything had finally fallen into place.

Finally we had a local musician sing a new song he had written and played guitar. After that, we thanked everyone for coming, dispersed leftover materials and cleaned up.

My English teacher cohorts and I went out for a celebratory ceviche dinner, after which all but one fell fast asleep.

I am pleased with how the event turned out. Again, it went great, considering how terrible it was destined to turn out. This whole time, they were my ideas of the minga and festival. Everyone was skeptical, few were interested in helping at all. But in the last few days, everything came together.

Nothing could have happened if my very important support group hadn't of believed in me and my ideas for a cultural event, a celebration of the Earth, not just Galapagos. A positive way to celebrate our place in the natural world, instead of so much negativity and accusations like the local population is used to.

At the end of the day, I know that it was my friends and family in this beautiful place that I am able to count on, to support me, to help me, to listen and understand me, to try to play along with whatever random activities I come up with and thrust upon them. It is these people who have shown me a new side of Reliability.

Lean on me, and lean I did. BIG LOVE!

Mi Cariño

Can I just rant about my man? My lover? My best friend?

He lets me speak for myself, and that especially includes trying to express myself with shaky pronunciation and complex grammar.

His usual response to any idea of mine: "It's OK; If you want it, just do it."

He tells me he'll wait for me, wherever I need to go, whatever I feel compelled to do. He asks me to just enjoy the time that I want to stay here with him, and leave when I need to.

He never makes pressure on me for any reason.

He cooks for me. He brings me treats and take out.

He puts up with the scorching sun, while I bask like a crab, brushing sand off my cheek and shoulders.

He always lets me go out with the girls, or alone, if that's what I want.

He sings love songs to me, along with the radio.

He rubs my back better than I can rub his.

He is genuinely interested in my life, and the lives of my family and friends.

He kindly stays out of my way when I am upset or angry, witnessing that he has three sisters and he knows...

He laughs at nearly everything and can make me laugh almost always.

He holds me when I can't laugh, and wipes tears away from my eyes.

He welcomes me into his family and with his friends.

He tells me that he's proud to be with me, that he loves the way that I am...

I am so lucky and grateful to experience this love, to have the opportunity to feel such love for another. Thank you, baby.

Perks

If the opportunity to live in this amazing place weren't enough benefits, there are plenty of perks that come along with an English-teaching position at the university. For example, I get a breakfast buffet every morning, even the weekends, if I feel the desire to come in the mornings. Internet service, although unreliable and slow (it's this way everywhere on the island), is at least free. There is a decent book exchange for us nerds who like books, lots of books. I get to meet and make connections with superb professors and doctors, usually native Ecuadorians, as well as googles of international students and volunteers. Next week the semester group arrives and I've decided that I will take the Evolutionary Biology classes with them, for free. There are also outings and trips with these student groups.

Recently, I got to go on a six-hour boat trip to Isla Lobos and Leon Dormido to snorkel. Gear and lunch and snacks were included. All for free. It's not so expensive to arrange this trip on your own, but it never happens often, since there is a minimum number of passengers needed, guide fees, etc. The other teacher and I were fortunate to be allowed to join a small student group who was studying geology and evolution in Ecuador and the Galapagos. So on top of the spiel we heard from our friendly guide, we also heard some insight from the two professors.

I saw my first jellyfish at Isla Lobos, although not much else, other than sea lions, obviously. At Leon Dormido, we circled the towering rock formation twice, then snorkeled through the channel twice. The current was calm and still, and the water pretty clear. The first run I saw several Galapagos sharks, although they were swimming close to the sea bed, at that area around 47 feet. I spotted a few Pacific sea turtles, and fists full of fishes.

After we exited the channel, we loaded back up on the boat and went around to drop off at the same spot, because swimming with the current is so much more enjoyable. The second swim was much more exciting, as black-tipped reef sharks were swimming only a few feet below and around us! Then we swam on the outside of the rock, the sea bed nowhere in sight, only the sunshine like columns in the aqua water. As we returned to Puerto Bacquerizo Moreno, we saw in the distance, a few dolphins jumping over the waves. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

Not too bad considering I'd still do this job without any of the above-mentioned. My students are great, funny, interesting, and dedicated. I tell them that my goal is for them to have fun while learning English, and maybe that's why they are so open-minded to the silly games and creative projects that I thrust upon them.

People always say about work: do something that you love; but shouldn't this be true of everything we do? Do it all with love?

Home

Due to a sudden change of events, I am spending the holidays in Kansas with my family. After the initial stress of changing flights, traveling, and overcoming the sudden temperature change (around 60 degrees difference), I feel very blessed to be home.

I am focusing on flexibility. I am trying to take a deep breath and accept (not try to force change or resist things I cannot control), but just exist so that each new challenge is lived through. Like I said, I'm working on it...

I left the islands with only three days of planning. I surprised all my relatives, only my parents knew I was coming home. Every time I visit, it is intense. This is simply due to the fact that I have a very close family, it's a challenge trying to spend meaningful time with each individual. But I try.

Tomorrow I am baby-sitting my two-year old nephew, which I am really excited about, but also nervous. All he likes to play with and talk about (and boy does he talk!) are trucks and tractors and tools and farm equipment. Not exactly my strong subjects.

Talking with my mom this evening, we told each other what Christmas traditions were most important to us. My mother, being one of the most jolly people in the world (a close second to my sister, the Christmas baby), loves the music, decorations, family under one roof, all of it.

I told her that my favorite traditions were just being together: I love cooking and since I come from a long line of great cooks, there are plenty of recipes that have been handed down through the generations.

Since I've been an "adult" (legally speaking, of course, still waiting to grow all the way up), I have enjoyed waking up early on Christmas morning. There my parents already sit, coffee mugs and bath robes, quilts on their laps. The only lights on in the house are the sparkling decorations and blinking tree. Miniature villages from Mom's collection are also settled around the room. There we sit, in the glow of the holiday, talking quietly and sharing memories. Slowly, yet all too soon, the sun comes up and the day begins.

We start making a brunch of rich tradition and comfort food. Later, the others come with their families and we celebrate again, much later, we celebrate my sister's birthday. We play games, we visit, we give gifts that have meaning, we eat the amazing treats that have been prepared.

It is this year that is so different, though every year brings something new: I am engaged, but I had to come alone, my parents and brother are living in new homes, my nephew is too big for his own britches, and there's another on the way! As I sit in the glow of the small tree this year, I am happy to be home, knowing that this is a different Christmas, and next year will be even more changed.

There is no point to holding onto your reservations about how things should be. They won't ever be. Change is natural and beautiful, sometimes drastic and chaotic and heartbreaking. So it goes...

Dia de Accion de Gracias

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. Ever.

I love summer changed to fall and the seasonal food it brings. I love cooking and making traditional foods. I love spending the time with family and friends and taking walks after sessions of comfort food. I love all the entrees and side dishes and trimmings and desserts and wine to toast and coffee to savor afterwards. I love the smells of the oven and of the fireplace and of the grass and trees dying and drying out.

While it may come to a surprise to some, Thanksgiving is a celebration of a historic American event, and therefore is not a world-renowned holiday (gasp). This being said, no one here really cares that there is no turkey to bake, no pumpkins to press into a pie, nor cranberries to make into a tart and lovely sauce, etc.

Instead, when I told my students about the holiday, what it means to me, and how my family celebrates, they asked why there wasn't dancing? I told them that because there is such an abundance of food, it is virtually impossible to dance. Plus, the men are all passed out in front of the tv, watching American football all day. One is also usually too full to enjoy an alcoholic beverage.

Since drinking and dancing are the backbone to any Ecuadorian holiday, they didn't seem to be very interested. Only amazing homemade food to be shared with friends and family? We do that everyday, it's called "almuerzo." They had me there.

But us three American English teachers weren't giving up that easily. Our patronage to a small restaurant for rotisserie chicken, cole slaw salad, menestra bean salad and rice served as our feast. We recalled our typical holiday plans, our favorite Thanksgiving dishes, and, of course, what we were thankful for on this calm and gently cool night on an equatorial island. There was a lot.

But, since you, dear readers, weren't there to witness, the least I can do is recount my humble words of gratitude. I am thankful for my opportunities. I am thankful for the freedom that I have in order to create the kind of life that I want to have, to follow my wishes and desires and not live with only whatever is handed to me. I am very fortunate to have so many loving people around me (even far away from where I am now), and to have the chance to meet so many new ones. I am fortunate to have such resilient health and and to be safe and secure. I am fortunate to have found a job doing something that I deeply enjoy, something that challenges me and calls on skills I both have and am continuing to develop. I am thankful that I am surrounded by still so many chances to learn new things. Last, but certainly not least, I am so grateful for meeting José, such an important person in my life, and to have the shared goal of spending our futures together.

All in all, I am grateful for all of it, good and bad, because as someone before me said, "Without the bitter, life wouldn't be so sweet."

Come, reza, ama

So I recently read the novel Eat, Pray, Love by Liz Gilbert and fell in love. I related to the outcast, black sheep syndrome and her yearning for travel. And food. And desire for understanding. I read through it like a marathon runner, unable to stop for anything. It felt like reuniting with a long lost friend after about a decade, once more getting to know each other and the details of life that we have missed out on. (I recently did exactly that, too; so glad you are back in my life!)

Yesterday I found the movie for sale at one of the small movie stores. SCORE! I usually don't appreciate movies that are based on books, but this one lives up to the feelings created by the book, for the most part.

Some of my favorite parts are when she is learning. She decided to learn Italian, just because it felt magical, it was good for her soul. There was no practical reason for her to pick up this particular language. I love the idea that it is important to seek out facets in life that are simply for the beauty of it. This is how I feel about dancing salsa: there is no reason for me to be a great salsa dancer. I only want the skill because of the way I feel: I feel graceful and sexy and like I'm sharing a secret of this culture, a secret that not everyone (especially gringitas) can appreciate.

She gives up guilt about eating and food and body image in order to truly embrace the joy of flavor, to reclaim a meal as an event, not a chore. Whether with friends, family, the love of your life, or all alone, to eat something should be like a ceremony. Savor with all your senses, don't just grub and then wash it down. Go ahead, chew your bite 33 times before swallowing. Swish your beverage around your teeth and gums and tongue. Gargle it if you want to, it won't offend me. Give up on the idea that you are supposed to look like anyone else but you.

She spends four months at an ashram, in search of peace, almost unawares that before there is peace, there is a whole lot of garbage. In this place, I have constantly been facing my demons, most of them, anyway, sheesh. It is a perfect spot to see things objectively, to notice the patterns, like rings in a tree. To gently glide away and let go of such heavy stones, to replace tightly gripped hands with open palms and nimble fingers. Not trying to grasp onto anything is such a quiet way to live.

She returned to Bali to study, to reflect, to learn what she could, to find a balance. This is something I keep telling myself: Life is the lesson and the test at the same time. Take every opportunity that you can to understand what you couldn't before. Try to see things differently than how you first look at them, shift the focus, change your position.

So I'm showing this movie to my English class. I hope they will see the humor and the beauty in the story, the way I did. If nothing else, they can appreciate the trials of learning a second language. And if even that is lost on them, at least there are beautiful people, eating beautiful things, in beautiful places. Surely, everyone can dig that.

fresca/fresh

The weather is changing and the days are more and more often representing the equatorial paradise that most think about in regards to these islands. The sun is strong and the ocean competes against the sky's radiant blues. Temperatures are climbing, but still very tolerable, around 80 degrees F.

Yesterday I lathered myself in sunscreen and grabbed my latest book and settled near the black lava rock coast of Playa Mann. The air is so fresh from the waves and there are growing populations of the adorable sea lions, lobos, whom I adore. Yesterday I counted six nursing babies, squealing for their mothers or else noisily suckling. The bull restlessly swam the coast, honking at anyone who even thought about getting in the water, protecting his harem. Unbeknownst to him, none of the young are his, since the gestation period is longer than he's taken over as alpha male and body guard to this particular group.

I waited until the bull hefted his large self out of the water and onto the shore, rolled a few times to crust himself entirely in a layer of sand (to keep the flies away) and fell asleep, to enter the water my self. The clear sea swirls around your legs as the chill creeps like needles all across your body. Somehow, I keep walking, breathing deeply and focusing on the pain of the water. Finally, I dive and swim a few strokes towards the boats anchored in the bay.

Minutes later my skin is still stinging and sore, I tread water for as long as I can stand it. Three younger sea lions swim towards me and show off: swimming around and below me, floating on their backs, smacking their flippers against the water's surface to splash me. Always looking at me, giving me an expression, which says, "Yeah, did you see that? Triple summersault, no biggie."

I float on my back with them, watching the clouds that don't seem to be moving, it's us who are moving in the waves and the wind. I love the salt water, I love how buoyant everything is, how gravity is forgiven in the ocean. Now so cold I can no longer support it, I swim directly back to the shore, only looking back once to see the lobos finally noticed that I abandoned them in their mimic and play sessions.

On the beach alone, I do some yoga and ponder how I got here, how much I love it here, how I'm making it my home. I wrap my mind around November, and what that means in my native Kansas and resident Colorado. I smile when the thought of turning aspens and first snow falls gives me goose bumps (or piel de gallena, chicken skin) even though I am soaking up the sun's loving rays.

I think about what my loved ones are doing, scattered all over the place, like torn papers thrown into the wind. I do this in my times of quiet solitude: walking home from class under the bright, alert constellations, or under a white sun, so close to my head.

Holidaze

Ecuadorians don't celebrate Halloween. At least not officially, and certainly not like Americans, who reportedly spend enough on decorations and costumes and parties and candy corn for it to be the second most expensive holiday behind Christmas. Holy jack-o-lanterns.

There is a costume party at one of the bars tonight, with live music and a free drink with purchase of your ticket in. I don't have one, since I don't have a costume. Last year, as a student, I convinced myself I could pass as a flamingo and spent the entire afternoon cutting and stapling and arranging pepto-bismol pink fabric into wings and a tail of feathers. I won nothing but the compliments of my fellow students, who I think had also consumed more than their fair share of caña at that point.

José suggested that this year I go as Snow White (because I am so incredibly pale, due to the unseasonably cool and cloudy weather) and he could be a dwarf. That's right, he's a shortie.

Since the 31st falls on a Sunday this year, I also had to cancel classes for Monday and Tuesday. Let me explain: This being a Latino Catholic nation, all religious holidays are regarded as such: sacred. November first is All Saints Day. No work, no school, I'm just not sure what.

Tuesday is Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead. This is similar to Memorial Day, with family spending the day at the cemetery, visiting loved ones and honoring their memory, eating picnics and talking to all the other people also spending the day at the cemetery.

November third is the Independence Day of Cuenca, a town in the mainland. I told my students that we would celebrate in classand to feel free to bring traditional food.

Ecuador has literally hundreds of holidays: days of remembrance for battles, saints and martyrs, flags, teachers and parents and grandparents and babies, along with birthdays and Christmas and Easter week and New Years Eve. And Day. This is why the nation is composed of such a laid-back, festive and fun-loving people. They always find a reason to celebrate.

What is also funny is that the fashion of these festivals seldom differ: there is food, there are drinks, there is music, there is dancing, there are decorations, there is more food, there are more drinks, there are babies and great-grandparents and little kids and dogs and middle aged people and teenagers and pregnant women and everyone's family and relatives and dates and best friends and neighbors and people whom you met in the street on the way to the party.

At first I was frustrated with this habit of cancelled classes, closed stores, buckets of money spent on parties, it all seemed so excessive, like it was just too much. If you know me, you know how I feel about shopping and overwhelming holidays and the lavishness of festivities. But now I see that it is the generous nature of Ecuadorians, the open hearts and doors, the ability to step back and celebrate life, that is what I love so much about these people.