Thursday, November 22, 2007

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

it's weird to think that today is thanksgiving. it's not celebrated in ecuador, so it hasn't even been on my radar. they started preparing for christmas two weeks ago (i was in a mall in guayaquil last weekend, on a computer while a chipmunk's christmas was playing in the background-the stuff we export is ridiculous). but as i was on my way to work a few minutes ago i realized that exactly one year ago is when i decided to take the plunge and look into volunteering.

i was in hilton head, south carolina visiting my dad's family for thanksgiving and i was feeling very uneasy at the prospect of graduating and entering the "work force." i knew sitting behind a desk from 9 to 5 wasn't for me. still isn't. so i started thinking of what i would enjoy. i instantly knew traveling was near the top of my list. but being a poor college student, soon to graduate with student loans, making me even more poor, i knew i needed to find a viable option in traveling. so i started looking at volunteer progrgams. this was all before i came to ecuador mind you. so as i was in hilton head for two or three days waiting for my parents to arrive, i started to come up with ideas, sketches, plans of what i could do and what it would look like. i wanted a community-based program, so i wasn't just dropped off in the middle of the juungle by myself. and at the time i was seriously looking into africa (that is still on the list of future plans). but as i ran through all of these thoughts in my head, the one thought that scared me the most was talking about all of this with my dad. we are different people. he's logical, slow to act, methodical, rational. and i'm, well, irrational, emotional, and quick to act. so naturally my biggest fear was that he would rain on my parade and tell me it's impossible to do something like this, i've got loans to pay and i need to get a job. but the suprising thing is, he was the most supportive of all. i told him what i wanted. and he said to me, "if you want to travel, travel. find a way to do what makes you happy." i was shocked. i was expecting a big speech on health insurance, loans, etc. but none of that came. only support. two weeks later i was in duran, ecuador and i knew that this was what i wanted to do. the rest is history. so on this thanksgiving day i'm thankful for this opportunity, but mostly for my dad's support.

Friday, October 26, 2007

28 de agosto experience

Aracely, our Ecuadorian ¨liason¨took me around 28 de agosto to get to know some of the people. First, we visited her aunt who she hadn´t seen or talked to in 7 years. We left there & met an older couple in their 50s who were in the trash dump site. Ara and I walked through all the trash to talk with them, a dense blanket of flies parted for us. They had been piling up paper, plastic, & glass to sell to a recycling place for 3-cents/kilo (paper) & 4-cents/pound (plastic), she had been telling us this as she tried on a pair of old sandals with a raised hell on them. They were also picking out any good food that was among the trash, like ¨verde¨ bananas, potatoes, onions. As the conversation furthered we found out this man has a hernia on his bellybutton & needs surgery. Thankfully he was selected for a free surgery at a hospital that assist low-income patients; unfortunately he can´t pay for any recovery or medicine. His wife also has diabetes and can´t afford any attention. It seems like diabetes is fairly common the poorer areas - I don´t know why, perhaps malnutrtion? But it´s a shame that all the foods that they aren´t supposed to eat, like sugars, potatoes, rice, are the majority of foods they can afford.

After about a 20-min conversation I looked around & realized I was actually standing in the middle of a trash dump, wondering how the hell I got here of all the places I could be right now in this world, looking at all the surrounding cane homes built up on cane stilts, prepared for the rainy season. I wondered why the trash site looked so torn up & scattered and found my answer when I saw our older friend help unload several trashbags off a cart of another man who must live nearby. He started ripping open the plastic bags and scattering the trash around to look for paper, plastic, or glass to sell. I had never seen anything like this… neither could I believe people lived so close to the dump, which brings me to my next house visit. There on the outskirts of the trash lived a lady, her son & her boyfriend. Theird house was literally pieced together with metal roofin and cane and you couldn´t stand up in the house bc it was so short. The story of this lady is another sad story that I feel like I´m becoming calloused to bc I hear so many like it. Her 1st husband abandoned her, her 2nd was killed by theives when their son, Panchito, was 3, and now she lives with her boyfriend, who for some reason doesn´t like the boy, who is now about 10. Now they are trying to scroung up money to pay off their $1500 land payment (with Pancho´s help of not going to school and selling paper & plastic from the dump site) and find a cheaper plot of land to buy & build on, all in less than 1-2 months before the rain season comes & covers their house.

I don´t have anything else to say other than to describe what I saw today. I don´t kno what the solutions are in these sitations or if there are any at all… but why shouldn´t there be? I wonder often if I´m called to something more here in Duran, Ecuador than just empathy for these families, the individuals, who are essentially just like me…

Our mission in RdC is to just accompany these people, not give them money; to share in conversation with them & undersatnd their situations, their struggles, & also the joys they find in their lives. Then I go home to think about how this all is affecting me & just maybe they go home and find a little peace in the conversation we shared, a little bit of hope that there are people in this world who are actually listening…

Sunday, October 21, 2007

it's funny to realize, but i've had more time to think in the last three months than i did in four years of college. i constantly find my mind somewhere else, thinking about a myriad of things, mostly concerning my future: what am i going to do when next august roles around? will i go live back in the states? will i do another volunteer program? will i move to argentina? will i go home for six months then move abroad? will i go to grad school? will i move to l.a.? back to chicago? how would i pay to do any of this? these are all good questions i should be asking myself, but right now isn't the time. i need to be here, now, experiencing this, but that has proven to be hard. the last few weeks have been very hard as future plans or friends and family back in the states have consumed my mind, which in turns makes being present here, both mentally and physically, difficult. i thank god every day that i am here, i do, but there have been many days where i just wanted to get on a plane and leave. frustrations with spanish. frustrations with community living. frustrations with ecuadorian culture. it's easy to start to think being here is a mistake. but then it takes some outside perspective to clear the fog sometimes.

pat mcteague is that outside perspective for me. simply, she is my hero. pat mcteague came to ecuador in 1965 with a group of nuns and started working with shoe shine boys in quito. after five years of frustrating attempts at social work and constant lack of oxygen, pat moved to the coast, to guayaquil where she met a future life-long friend and business partner. the pair wanted to create a quality education for the poor of the region, with the hopes that one day a very class-oriented society would integrate and the poor and rich of the guayaquil region would go to school together. twenty-odd years later, their dream came true ... sort of. pat and sonya founded nuevo mundo, a school and foundation which serves the wealthy families of guayaquil in the morning, while serving the poor of guayaquil and duran in the afternoon. both receive the same quality education, which is one of the top programs in the nation. rostro is associated with nuevo mundo for several reasons, one of which is the retreat groups. we take retreat groups to see nuevo mundo's ridiculous campus at the end of their trip to show them the hope and opportunities that exist for kids in duran, and at the end of the tour, pat talks with the group. this is one of my favorite stops with groups because even though she conveys the same message every time, with 24 groups a year, she still has a passion and sincerity that excites me every time i hear her speak. she is one of the reasons i am here. she has this way of conveying my responsibility to be here. i'm a white male from the united states. i have a college education. a passport. in essence i have access to anything i want in the world. how many other people can say that? maybe two percent of the world. so if i'm part of the two percent with all of these privileges, what does that mean? do i have a responsibility to help the rest of the world that lives in inhumane conditions, facing the worst of atrocities. what do i do? can i lead a guilt free life and do nothing? i say this because of this: anytime i feel like being here is a mistake, i should talk with pat. she makes me feel like i truly have a reason for being here. like i should be living an extrodinary life. listening to her talk makes me excited about all of this. that this is my responsibility.

and what better way to be present then celebrate? last night we went across the street to abrahan's (ab-BRAN) house for his 30th birthday party. abrahan, who is one of the guards at our house, is one of those guys who always has a smile on his face, always joking and eternally thinks he's a college frat boy. his party was no different. lots of dancing, lots of music (the loudest speakers in the city), lots of food, lots of fun. i left his house around 1:30 am and rejoined the party as it was still going at 8:30 this morning, (if that gives you any indication as to how parties go down here.) at one point in the night, after abrahan had yelled at me to come back over to the party, we played this little game where abrahan would pick someone from the party, tell them to choose a balloon which had a piece of paper in it, pop it, then abrahan would read the piece of paper and the person would have to act out whatever he said. my balloon, which abrahan loved since he always jokes with the male volunteers about being ¨sopa¨(gay) was to shout at the top of my lungs ¨quiero un hombre que haga me feliz¨three times (i want a man to make me happy). it was hilarious how something so small made abrahan crack up so much. this is why i need to be present. to remember this. to experience this.