Con gripe (GREE-pay)

Así ando, con gripe. I´m sick as a dog with enough junk leaving my nasal cavity to question what modern medicine teaches about the human body´s maximum volume capacity. I wonder if I´ve leaked any brainpower in the process. The last few days have left me bedridden and this is my first exciting foray into the world since Wednesday. Who knew buying bread and hitting up the Internet cafe could be such a thrill?

I have discovered the cause for my sickness, or rather, my Ecuadorian neighbors have discovered it for me. Cambio de clima, se dicen, y mucho polvo. Blame it on the change in temperature and the excessive dust. Whether we have the sniffles, a sore throat, upset stomach, or a broken arm, these two are always the culprit. It´s like going to the campus medical center and receiving their super-potent antibiotic pack for everything from the flu to carpal tunnel syndrome. Regardless of the cause, I am resting a receiving lots o´ love from concerned neighbors and communitymates. If I can´t have Mom, at least I have good friends.

My neighborhood is known as Arbolito, although there is no specific small tree that makes this name logical. It started as an invasion - a squatter settlement - about 15 years ago and has grown. The main road and one other are paved, but most are dirt and rocks. It´s divided losely into 4 sectors, numbered based on age and level of devleopment. I live in Sector 3, which hosts the Catholic church and a tech school built a few years ago which moonlights (afternoons) as our host for Semillas. Most houses are made of sugarcane, though some are cement and most blocks have one or two under construction. Arbolito settlers moved into a swamp, and the damp climate remains and gives us LOTS of mosquitos, so I avoid the outdoors during twilight hours. Most of our female neighbors work out of the house - owning a store, sewing, making shoes or some other type of artisanry - and male neighbors are mechanics, bus or taxi drivers, construction workers, or work sporadically in whatever job they can find. Many are unemployed, particularly because Arbolito offers very little in terms of employment, and a good chunk work in jobs that keep them away from the home Mon-Fri.

Te lo explico. Arbolito is a neighborhood of Duran, a large area across the river from Guayaquil. Most of the poor who work in Guayaquil live in Duran, which has developed more quickly in some sectors than others. Every way I can think of to explain these places references places I´ve lived before - Duran´s largest artery called Primavera 1 looks like the main drag in Callao in Peru, lined with stores covered by grates and stoplights that regulate very little. Arbolito is Lima´s Gambetta neghborhood - dusty, dirty, burning trash, small stores, lots of pedestrians and biciclists riding two or three on a bike that looks like it shouldn´t support one. Music, music, music, though this is true for almost every location I visit here. And kids! Everywhere! Guayaquil hosts plenty of street children, though I don´t see them often because there are fewer in Duran and my job keeps me on this side of the river. Oh man, the kids. Those big brown eyes. And they´re all so darn good at soccer. I feel uncoordinated and clumsy with them, but they continue to run to me for hugs and any sort of cariño. I guess soccer skills don´t define one´s worth as a person. Who knew?

Funny anecdote: Duran and Guayaquil are separated by a river, which flows in some of the strangest, most erratic currents I´ve ever seen. Consequently, the river (río in Spanish) is affectionately called the ría, making it feminine and thus matching the female characteristics of being fickle, indecisive, and impossible to understand. I know I´ll catch flack for posting this, but if you saw the way 72 year old Gabriel winked and knudged me with his elbow as he told this story, you´d throw it in too. Oh Gabriel - would that I were old and charming enough to be as excusably irreverent as he! Dimples and a good laugh - dangerously powerful.

Pardon my directionless writings - cabin fever leaves me a little loopy. Peace be with you, friends!

Today´s prayer intentions: for the volunteers at the Farm of the Child, who are taking a weekend retreat to renew their energy, that they find strength and patience for love; and for Raul, for whatever made him cry the other day.