Mande?

I've been planning to write this next update for a while now but it hasn't happened. I feel a little as though I have been waiting for inspiration to strike, but it hasn't been coming. The problem isn't that I have too little to report on but rather too much... how can I even begin to explain life
down here?

In the end perhaps I will have to settle for sharing a few snapshots of my daily life:

First, let me introduce you to the most used word in my vocabulary: ''¿¿¿¿Mande????'' As in, 'i have no idea what you just said to me. Could you repeat it, possibly in a much slower manner?' The language is coming, poco a poco, like everything down here, but that doesn't mean I don't make a fool out of myself 3,415 times a day... At the same time, I have to be thankful for the patience and understanding my Ecuadorian neighbors and coworkers show me.. Its so very humbling (which I am trying to embrace!).

Speaking of humbling, as a gringa down here, I am allowed a certain number of faux pauxs, I am pretty sure that I am far exceeding that number. There are so many cultural norms that I just don't understand, and that's if I am even aware that they exist. Im sure the neighbors get a fair amount of laughs at us, many times when we dont even know. And THEN, if the language isnt there to defend yourself with... well it can be frustrating. And yet this is such a great opportunity for growth... I was reflecting the other day about how hard it is for me to be bad at something. I am scared of messing up, of falling on my face. And yet in a sense, that is what I am
forced to do here (very literally in fact... I have fallen on my face once, in one of our afterschool programs, haha! I still have the scar on my knee to prove it. It made for a good joke for a while). It is inevitable that I will make a fool of myself; I do it every day. And yet I have to get back up, and keep trying. I am learning that even when you fall, life goes on. You pick yourself back up, patch your knee back together, and try again... possibly with a slightly better grasp of your own brokenness and your own limitations. And it is the knowledge of my brokenness, my limitations (and my horrible horrible awkwardness in so many situations!!) that teaches me compassion towards others when they, too, inevitably fall.

Another very present reality of my life - - the million and one hugs and kisses I recieve daily. Ecuadorians greet each other with a kiss on the cheek (well, for the most part - - - women give each other kisses on the cheek, and guys give girls kisses on the cheek, but guys greet each other with a very manly handshake). Why don't we do this in the states? It's wonderful. But this doesn't make up a quarter of the hugs and kisses I recieve daily, because most of all they come from the kids... Sometimes all
I have to do is step out on the street and I am bombarded by 15 hugs. Kids from Semillas de Mostaza, our afterschool program, kids from the soup kitchen where I like to stop by and chat, kids from Nuevo Mundo where I teach. Sometimes I have no idea who they are or where I possibly could have met them but they greet me like we have been best friends for years. The children here fill my heart with joy... and most of all, with love. I want to introduce you to Abraham, Luis, and Carmen, three kids from Semillas. Every time I pass their house I am guaranteed a 5 minute hug, and then
another one, until I've been hugged for 20 minutes and I'm impossibly late to wherever I'm going (I have to admit that sometimes I go out of my way just to pass their home). And then there's Veronica, comes to Semillas as well. She is eight years old but because of malnourishment she looks like she's four.... but she is one of the most embracing, loving children I've ever met. She calls me 'preciosa' and insists on giving me a hug and a long wet kiss every time I see her. And Wellington, the 8 year old son of a neighbor, who goes to Nuevo Mundo, where I teach. This morning I took him to the cyber to practice the ´computacion,´ like his dad wanted... Basically I just helped him to send emails to past volunteers: ´´Hola, soy Wellington. Como esta alla? Te extrano. Ven a mi cumpleanos el 25 de Diciembre. Ciao.´´So cute!

Final snapshot, perhaps, should be of my community. Every morning we scatter off to different worksites, sometimes we see eachother at midday, some people work together in the afternoon. Most nights, no matter where the day took us, we come back together for dinner and prayer. It is hard work. Sometimes I just want to be at the neighbors,
hanging out. Sometimes my community mates are driving me crazy. Sometimes I have no desire to pray.... and this goes for all of us, of course. It takes a lot, a LOT, of intentionality, knowing that in signing up to take part in a ´´christian community,´´ we have committed ourselves to relationships in which we dont just pass with a
smile and a hello in the hallway but rather we have a responsibility towards one another, we hold one another accountable. Truly trying to live as a community, sometimes little decisions get turned into big ones. The other night we had a 30 minute discussion on how much cheese we should buy - - really. ´´Is it a luxury item, how much can we afford,´´ etc etc. Yikes! And recently we had a perhaps more serious
discussion on alcohol and what role it should play in our experience here, given our differing backgrounds, given our intentions for the year, given the prevalence of alcoholism in Ecuador and the effects it has on our neighbors. What might be seen as an individual decision in the states caused some arguments and even some tears, and the issue eventually evolved into the question of how accountable we are to each
other as a community. It was intense! What a sense of accomplishment, though, when after numerous, long discussions, we reached a conclusion that everyone felt okay with, especially when the conclusion showed how we are growing to support and to trust one another. When I signed up for this experience in Ecuador, I thought the community living would be the easiest part.... it may turn out to be the hardest! The
hardest things, though, generally end up being the most rewarding. I
am incredibly thankful for my community here.