On the sharp end

Sending it since 2006

Name:
Location: Flatlands, US

Friday, June 30, 2006

Long time, no blog

Sorry I haven´t posted a new entry for quite awhile. It turns out that taking one on one Spanish lessons for 4 hours in the morning and then working in an emergency room for 4 hours in the afternoon can really tire a person out. I´ll try to briefly catch you up on what has happened since the last entry. This will be short, sweet, and without many details for a couple of reasons. 1) I´m now in an internet cafe, as opposed to using the computer in my school, which means that I am paying for this time. Plus, the cafe is busy, uncomfortable, and loud.
2) I´m running seriously low on money, and therefore can´t spend all afternoon on the Internet.
3) I´ve decided that I´m spending way too much time on the Internet blogging, emailing, and trying to shuffle my money and bills around through different bank accounts. It dawned on me that is not a good use of time when in a country like Ecuador. Plus, I´m tired of trying to keep this blog updated.
4) I have better things to do.

World Cup Update: Ecuador ended up losing to Germany 3-0, but it didn´t matter because they had already qualified for the elimination round. They subsequently lost their first game of the elimination round to England 1-0, thanks to a questionable penalty and a free kick by Beckham. In spite of the loss, there was much partying in Ecuador - I think because they considered just qualifying for the elimination round a victory and their showing against England was impressive.

The ER: I worked 3 days a week in an ER at a local hospital. Needless to say, I gained some valuable medical, Spanish, and medical Spanish experience. Also, I saw some really interesting cases and learned a bit about medical care and education in Ecuador. That´s about all that I have to say about that.

Papallacta: Two weekends ago I went to a little town called Papallacta, which is located about 1.5 hrs East of Quito in the mountains, with the same group of summer missionaries from HCJB. There are some amazing natural hot springs there, and the HCJB ministry has a guest house there as well. Basically the weather was pretty bad all weekend. From the moment we arrived until we left the clouds didn´t lift (we were basically in them) and it rained/misted all weekend. But it didn´t matter, we had a comfy fireplace going all the time, plenty of board games, too much good ol´ American food, and of course, the hot springs (which, I might add, are even more enjoyable when the weather is cold and rainy). So all I did was eat, sleep, play games, laugh, sit by the fire, and soak in the hot springs at night - it was great.

Spanish: In spite of my suspicions to the contrary, I am in fact learning quite a bit of Spanish. This was confirmed by the beginning of my formal medical Spanish language program this past week. Although I am still in the beginner´s group, I am near the top of it. Having 30+ other Gringos around me that speak the same level or less of Spanish as me has improved my confidence in what I have been learning. I am now getting around fairly easily on the street and in businesses. In fact yesterday, I was in a bank trying to figure out why my debit card won´t work here (completely in Spanish), and actually was able to resolve the problem - something I was skeptical about being able to do when I walked in.

The Program: There are 36 U.S. first year medical students in my program with me. It hasn´t been quite what I expected so far. We haven´t really had a whole lot of Spanish instruction. Instead, we´ve had to sit and listen to the director (a doctor from Florida) ramble on and on about stuff we already know - like jet lag, oral rehydration solutions, the fact that healthcare is worse in third world countries, etc. To be honest, it has been a bit disappointing. I am glad that I showed up 4 weeks early to take Spanish lessons on my own, otherwise I would be learning nothing. Many students have talked about trying to drop out of the program at this point, or at least ignoring much of the itinerary and trying to learn on their own. I don´t blame them. I´m going to stick with it and try to make the best of it. Things should improve - we leave for a smaller, more rural city called Otavalo tomorrow morning. It is known for its amazing indigenous craft market. We will be spending two weeks around there, observing the clinics there, the native culture, some traditional healers (whose main treatment involves live guinea pigs), and continuing to have limited Spanish lessons. We then travel to the rainforest for a week. If I don´t update this thing over the next few weeks, this is why. One good (and difficult) experience from the program thus far was yesterday. We spent the morning at a mercado where people from around the area are selling all types of foods and goods. We set up a makeshift clinic to see and assess the children whose parents work there everyday. Needless to say, we were swamped - there were more kids than we could have seen in a week. Also, since we are all only first year medical students who only know how to shine lights in peoples´mouths, look in their ears, and pretend like we hear something through our stethoscopes (not to mention the fact that most of us speak marginal beginner´s Spanish at best) not much actual medical care was given. I saw more rotten teeth than I have seen in my life. Every other child either had a GI infection, diarrhea, sore throat, sinusitis, cough, or any combination of these and other common illnesses. But all we could do was pat them on the head, smile, give them a free pencil (which is what they really cared about), and say we were sorry that they couldn´t afford the ibuprofen or pseudephedrine that would make them feel better and that we didn´t have enough to give to them all. It was heartbreaking, frustrating, eye-opening, but in the final analysis, I think better than nothing. They didn´t have to pay for this little clinic, it gave the kids something to do instead of sit in the hot sun and work or beg for money, and most importantly made them feel like someone actually does care about them. We touched them, hugged them, laughed with them, and at least pretended to do something for their health and well-being. We did in fact do some medical good - we distributed free anti-parasite medication to all and had some free medications to give to some of the patients. However, it causes me to return to my original question of what long-term good can we as doctors do for people living in situations like this. I have yet to hear an acceptable answer.

The chocolate donut of death: So on Monday evening during dinner I wasn´t feeling so great. I was a bit nauseous and lacked an appetite (something very rare for me here). Then all of a sudden, in the middle of one of my host dad´s sentences, I had to run from the table to the bathroom and some serious vomiting ensued. I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning on my bed (with an occasional trip to the bathroom) analyzing what I had eaten that day. All I could think of that was out of the ordinary was a chocolate donut that I had purchased at a small shop around noon - due to the fact that we weren´t scheduled to eat lunch in our program until 2:45 pm. It was the only thing different that I had eaten between me and another med student living with my same family. Everyone thinks that I´m crazy and they say that you can´t get that sick from a baked good (especially a donut), but I beg to differ. Who knows what it was, but I´m going to avoid chocolate donuts the rest of my time here just in case. I´m better now.

That´s a brief update on my life to this point. I have a lot more to experience and will be pretty busy from here on out. I´ll try to drop a line here and there, but please don´t expect an update often. I leave Ecuador on August 10. But before then, on the list are: the rainforest, mountain climbing, the beach, the crafts market, indigenous culture, and more. So for now, I´m off...

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Ecuador 3, Costa Rica 0

Ecuador won its second World Cup game today, 3-0, against Costa Rica. They are now 2-0 in this World Cup and play Germany on Tuesday. More importantly, since this is a qualifying round, they get to advance to the elimination round of the World Cup - the first time ever for Ecuador. Needless to say, that's kind of a big deal here. Si Se Puede!

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Mindo, que lindo!

On Saturday, June 10, I went with a group of college students from HCJB on an excursion to Mindo - a small touristy town on the western slopes of the mountains, about 2 hours from Quito. Mindo is located in what is called the cloud forest. These types of forests exist here in Ecuador at higher elevations, they trap alot of moisture, and help create clouds - hence their name. These clouds cause the forest to often be drenched in a fine mist which allows for some pretty amazing flora and fauna. The vegetation is very lush and dense, and appears to be a mixture of all sorts. Butterflies, hummingbirds, orchids, and ferns are very common sites in the cloud forests. Also present, but more rare, are the woolly tapir, the Andean spectacled bear, the puma, and various tropical birds like parrots or toucans. We didn't see any of these larger, rarer animals, but we did we see plenty of butterflies, hummingbirds, and flowers.

Our first stop was a butterfly farm where they raise over 20 types of butterflies. They have everything from newly hatched caterpillars (as small as the tip of a pen), to huge caterpillars (as big as the space bar on your keyboard), cocoons of all shapes and sizes and stages, and of course hundreds of flying butterflies. It was all extremely fascinating and incredibly beautiful. The cocoons amazed me the most. The diversity, intricacy, and colors of them all were unbelievable. The largest of them looked exactly like dead, brown, dry, hanging leaves - perfectly camouflaged. Others were bright green and perfectly shaped like a hanging flower bud. Others sat on the leaves and looked just like a bird dropping. All of these appearances were in the hope of deterring birds and other predators from making an easy meal out of the defenseless cocoons. But the most fascinating of all, were the cocoons that appeared to be metallic. They had the exact appearance of polished, shiny metal and looked like jewels or earrings hanging from the leaves. We were even fortunate enough to actually watch one of the green cocoons hatch, and see a newly transformed butterfly emerge. The butterflies were just as diverse. Some were as big as your hand, with a rather plain brown coloration on the outer surface of their wings. But when they flew and opened their wings, the inner surface shone with a dazzling deeply irridescent aqua blue color. Other butterflies were smaller, and even more brightly colored. Some had yellow and black stripes like a tiger. Others were black and orange. Some had tails hanging off their wings. Some had large round spots on the their wings to mimic the appearance of eyes. It was an amazing display of colors, shapes, and sizes that provided a powerful statement about the creativity and nature of the Creator.

Our next activity after the butterfly farm was a hike into the forest towards a remote waterfall. After about 45 minutes hiking up a rough dirt road, we reached the edge of a huge, steep valley that dropped several hundred feet below us. Across this valley, high above the trees, is strung a cable with a raggedy, run-down, old looking...uhh...i'm not really sure what you would call it. Some might say a "gondola", others would disagree saying that a "gondola" is a type of boat found in the channels of Venice, and prefer instead to call it a "sky tram" (Ver Heul, I believe we had this discussion on the sky lifts in Colorado, no?). I'll just call it a rusty, old, sketchy, four seat poor excuse for a bucket on a wire across the great abyss of forest. Whatever you call it, it costs $3 per person to ride it - and you must if you want to reach the waterfalls, because bush-whacking down and back up the valley to the other side is out of the question due to the extreme angle of the slope and dense undergrowth. But to me, being the heights-seeker that I am, it was great and well worth the money. That thing flew - faster than you would really expect. It was kind of like riding the zipline at Eagle Lake, except you weren't strapped in to anything. But, in spite of the trepidations of many of the students, we all made it safely across to the other side. After a 10 minute hike we were at the waterfall, called Cascada Nambillo.

Oh!, but first things first. On the hike, as we neared the waterfall, we encountered a vine. Yes, a real-life Tarzan vine hanging from the trees of the forest! Not a rope that someone had put up - a real vine. So of course, I had to swing from it...


Ok, the waterfall. It was a bit disappointing due to the number of tourists there, but nonetheless, very beautiful. There was a ledge on the side of the bank from which you could jump into the water below. Of course I took the plunge. It was an invigorating 30 foot drop into water that was pretty chilly. It was great! How often do you get to go cliff jumping into a remote river in the Ecuadorian forest? It certainly was a first for me. After making my second jump, we dried off and hiked back to the town (this included another trip across the abyss in the aforementioned rusty bucket on a wire).

For lunch we ate at this beautiful little restaurant out in the forest. It had an authentic thatch roof and no walls. All around the sides were hung hummingbird feeders in order to attract the numerous different species in the area. It started to rain just as we arrived, which made the ambience even more spectacular. As we dined, dry under the thatch roof above us, multiple colorful hummingbirds hovered nearby, and the rain poured through the forest. It's hard to describe the feeling of having a wonderful and tasty warm meal, in the rainforest, with hummingbirds all around, after a long day of hiking and swimming in remote forest rivers. I'll just say that it is pretty nice. Due to the rain, we decided to skip the orchid farm that we were planning on visiting in the afternoon and instead, return to Quito for the day. All in all, the trip to Mindo was the best day that I have had here in Ecuador thus far. It was great to get out of the noise, pollution, and crowds of the city, and actually get to play in some real forests and see some beautiful animals.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Ecuador, Si Se Puede!

The World Cup began on Friday, in case you missed that. For those of you in the US who don't know, the World Cup is an international soccer (futbol) tournament that is kind of a big deal in the rest of the world. For example, Ecuador played Poland on Friday and the president of Ecuador declared it a national holiday. The World Cup comes around every 4 years and I'm guessing that to the general public of the world (excluding the US) it is more important than the Olympics. It's hard to explain how big of a deal it is to Americans who aren't aware that soccer exists beyond the YMCA leagues. On my way through town Friday, the traffic was incredible, the streets were packed with vendors selling Ecuador jerseys, hats, and flags. Probably 75% of all the people in the city were wearing their blue, yellow, and red Ecuadorian futbol jerseys. Almost all shops, stores, and businesses closed for the afternoon when the game started. Life came to a standstill around the nearest TV. It was fun to see how everyone managed to be in sight of a television screen - whether it meant standing or sitting on the sidewalk outside of electronics stores watching the monitors in the windows, huddling around a TV the size of a toaster on a desk, carrying their own portable TV, etc. It was like a real life Coke commercial or something.

Unfortunately, I was scheduled to work in the ER during the game. But that didn't mean that I didn't know exactly what was happening and what the score was at all times. The shouts throughout the halls of the hospital kept me updated. There was a man in the waiting room with a handheld TV around which many of the nurses and doctors would huddle when the work was slow - and the work was slow all afternoon. Nobody was going to come to the ER during the game unless they absolutely had to. Whatever minor pain or illness they had could wait for 90 minutes. The entire radiology department of the hospital was crowded around a TV in the x-ray room. It was crazy. More crazy than Lincoln on a Saturday morning in the fall when the Huskers are in town. And I have a feeling that the World Cup creates this kind of excitement throughout most of the entire world besides the U.S. I feel like we are really out of step with the world on this one. Well, we are out of step with the world with regards to a lot of things, but as sports-crazed as our nation is, it is suprising that we haven't latched onto the World Cup madness. I suppose there is not enough profit potential for corporations to really market it in the U.S. Let's blame it on the big bad corporations.

Ecuador beat Poland 2-0, and the country rejoiced, all night long. The streets were packed all evening. Many major intersections were closed down and police were directing traffic. Here they have a car horn honk for everything, and the universal honk for victory is...beep...beep...beepbeepbeep. It filled the streets late into the night. There was loud music, yelling, dancing, honking, and much Pilsener being drank (the popular brew of choice) late into the night. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleeping done that night due to the street noise. "Ecuador, Si Se Puede!" is the cheer of choice for futbol here - I suppose you could compare it to "Go Big Red!".

Aside from the World Cup madness, the ER was pretty uneventful. First of all, it is difficult as a volunteer in a new place like a hospital ER. Everyone is pretty busy and somewhat stressed out, and there you are standing around, getting in peoples' ways, not knowing what you should be doing in the first place, unable to do anything of real medical value, and a relative stranger to the staff. Add on top of all that a significant language barrier, and you have a recipe for a frustrating and awkward first couple of hours. But after standing there looking like a lost and scared puppy dog for a few hours, the staff slowly figured out that I probably wasn't going to go away anytime soon. So one of the resident doctors felt sorry for me and decided to introduce herself. She took a look at my University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics nametag, recognized the logo and gave me a look of suprise and a smile. She then took out her PDA and pulled up a program called "Virtual Hospital" which is run by the U of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, and pointed to the same logo on her screen. I shook my head and said, "That's a good program" (in my best broken Spanish). "Extremely good" she added. Yes!, instant credibility. Who would have thought that a program put out by the U of I would be in use in a hospital in Quito, Ecuador? I have to say that I felt a twinge of school pride at that point.

From then on, things were better. She introduced me to most of the staff, told them why I was there and what I was doing (only shadowing/observing). She asked if I would like to shadow the nurses or the doctors. This was the first time that I had been allowed to "hang out" at the doctors' desk, and I have to admit, it felt kind of nice to finally be in the circle. A couple of times, other doctors, nurses, or patients would come up to us and nod their head and say "Buenos tardes, doctor" to me. It was very funny to me, because I know that I am nowhere close to being a doctor, but I didn't dare try to correct them. I just nodded and smiled in return. I will say, I did look the part with my long white coat, nametag, and stethoscope around my neck. But the fact of the matter is, if I had been asked to do anything of medical significance there, I probably would have wet myself and then ran away and hid in a closet. But fortunately, I was never called upon to do anything, besides stay out of the way of the real doctors. That afternoon we didn't see anything too incredibly interesting, but just being around an environment where medical care was being delivered in Spanish was educational and satisfying enough for me.

For travel's sake?

"I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints." -Robert Louis Stevenson


I don't want to travel for travel's sake. Although I agree with Stevenson that it is good to "come down off this feather-bed of civilization" once in awhile, I don't want to merely do it for "travel's sake". I hate just "seeing the sights" and "being a tourist". I'm glad that I'm in Quito for 10 weeks instead of spot-hopping. This way I feel like I can get to know a place and a people a little bit better. Maybe build some relationships. Even, perhaps, contribute to or improve the place that I'm visiting in some way. This way seems better and definitely more attractive to me. To "travel for travel's sake" seems arrogant, superfluous, and vain. So many people (especially in touristy places) are not able to travel because they are too poor. To "travel for travel's sake" feels like taking advantage of those people, taking their picture, rubbing it in their face, pointing, and then leaving them worse off than they were before. I don't want to plop down somewhere, take whatever I can take, create some trash, then leave. I want to, if possible in some way, improve, add to, or give back to those places I am fortunate enough to visit. Travelling is a privilege, a rare one in the world, not a right. Sure I want to see the world, but an even greater desire is to see the world improve. Call me a hopeless, hypocritical idealist - but I'd rather prefer ameliorist.

To feel or not to feel (guilty)

"To awaken in a strange town is one of the most pleasant sensations in the world." -Freya Stark

...Unless you have traveler's diarrhea. Sorry for the image, but I'm just trying to be real. One of the reasons that it has been over a week since I last added a blog entry, was because for most of last week I was battling some gastrointestinal problems (I suppose that's a bit less offensive sounding than "explosive diarrhea"). It wasn't the all-out shooting from both ends type of sickness. It was just enough to cause me to not sleep too well, make me feel pretty unpleasant and tired, and just put me in a generally bad mood. Everything about Quito that had been so fun and exciting the first week, now made me sick and upset. The exhaust fumes on the streets, the smell of urine and feces along the sidewalks, the trash everywhere, the ever present clouds and cold rain, the obnoxious noise of the city - it all made me not want to get out of bed in the morning, not because I was so physically ill but just because I didn't want to go outside. But I did, because I have already paid for my Spanish lessons and they don't offer refunds for days missed. I was able to cope, but I wasn't a happy traveler. Eventually, after 2 days and no improvement, I took some medication that my host family suggested and things drastically improved. I believe that it was some sort of antibiotic, but I'm not sure. You can buy a suprising amount of medication over the counter at the corner "pharmacies" here - Ecuador doesn't exactly have the equivalent of the FDA from what I can tell. And many of the pills don't really come with dosage information, safety precautions, symptoms, etc. You are really at the mercy of the "pharmacist" or whoever recommends the medication to you. But it seemed to work, and I now feel great. It is amazing how your outlook on life can change so much when you are sick versus when you are feeling well. I'm back to my original, giddy, naive, first-time traveler self now, well rested and blogging my heart out.

A word about wealth and poverty in Ecuador:
There seems to be several layers of wealth and poverty here in Quito. At the top is the European or American tourist and the extremely rare and wealthy Ecuadorian. You can spot the tourists by their goofy zip-off khaki non-cotton pants and hiking shoes. The wealthy Ecuadorian can be found driving a shiny Mercedes SUV, which stands out pretty readily against the dirt, trash, taxis, and homeless on the street. Who knows what they do for a living or where they live - I haven't seen their houses yet. Then you have the Ecuadorians with steady, well-paying jobs. They are dressed in nice suits and shiny shoes, and can be found during the weekdays rushing to and from the office in their cars. Then you have several layers of the middle class - anywhere from small restaurant or shop owners/workers, cashiers, taxi drivers, teachers, etc. I have no idea what the distribution or income of these classes of workers is like, but many don't own cars, most ride the bus or trolley, and all certainly make less money than the lowest of the middle class in the US. These classes are the most abundant, as far as I can tell. Then you have the truly poor - those living on the streets or in structures that really can't be called a home. Many beg for food or money, some have little trinkets or candy for sale, some resort to petty crime, pickpocketing for example. Even below these people, there are the indigenous people. Most sell gum, candy, or Coke on the sidewalk and appear to own little else.

It is interesting how each class treats the classes below them with indignance, or just plain ignores them - even though they themselves don't really have much, relatively speaking. Here I find myself near the top of the totem pole financially-speaking - a place that I'm not really accustomed to. I would like to say that the disparity between me and the poor here really bothers me. But unfortunately, in some ways, I enjoy being able to buy or do almost anything that I want, spending less on lunch than I would on a coffee in the US, being treated like the wealthy. It's nice, in that greedy, wealthy American sort of way. But when I stop and think about it, what bothers me the most is the unavoidable apathy that being relatively wealthy brings. The fact that I'm not bothered and disgusted by how much more that I have than the people here, that attitude bothers me. The attitude that the problem is too big and there is really nothing that I can do, so why try? That bothers me. But what else can you do? You can love - but who is really going to genuinely feel, accept, and believe true love from a wealthy American who will fly back to their clean, safe, and comfortable life when they get tired of "slumming it" down in South America? Perhaps (most likely) it's my own feelings of arrogance and/or guilt that upset me. Is it right for me to feel guilty for where I was born and what I was given? I often do. Would I give it all up and trade places? No. Such is my fallen human nature.

0° Latitude, 0° Celsius

"I have seen slaves riding on horses [or driving SUVs], and princes walking like slaves on the land." -Ecclesiastes 10:7, parenthetical thought added

On Sunday (June 4), I went on an excursion to Cayambe Volcano with a group of students from another language school nearby mine. It was about an hour drive north of Quito to the tiny village of Cayambe. And then another hour on a bumpy, dirt road up through the high grasslands above the village to the start of our hike. The first leg of the journey was my first experience with highway driving in Ecuador. Of course, the highways in general are all two lane (one each direction) and very winding and full of sharp curves due to the contour of the land (not anything like Interstates in the US, even in the mountains). And there is practically no regard for any sort of driving laws - speed limits, passing zones, turn signals, whatever. It is a free for all, you get where you are going as fast as you can and in any way possible. To someone not accustomed to this type of driving, it is truly frightening. At one point, we were passing a truck (on a questionable curve, at least in my mind) and another car passed us at the same time. A double pass (3 cars wide on a two lane highway) on a curve. I couldn't believe it. So for most of the drive, I just stared out the window at the landscape and tried to ignore what was going on.

The village of Cayambe is not exactly a tourist hotspot. It is an otherwise unattractive run-down, typical rural village. Although there is much poverty in Quito, the level of poverty in the rural areas far exceeds anything that I have previously seen in my life. The homes were made of mud-bricks, many had thatch roofs, and the people lived off of what they grew and raised - corn, cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, etc. As we drove through town, the cobble-stone road climbed higher and higher in elevation, and the lifestyle became more and more agricultural, poor, and the demographic became more indigenous. Eventually we were in the countryside high above the village. There were two little shepherd children herding sheep in traditional indigenous clothing high on the hillside - I think the sheep were taller than the children. The road was rough, lonely, and winding afloat in a sweepingly grand, high, open, desolate but painfully beautiful landscape. The huge rolling hills (almost like "Sound of Music"-type hills) conjured images of the English countryside (but on a much grander scale) from many of the British students that were with us. The hills were sewn in places into a patchwork quilt of fields of varying crops. It was one of those times that you just know it would be desparately hopeless to attempt to capture the scale of the scene with a photo. But I tried nevertheless. On our way down after the hike, the clouds opened up and an unbelievable burst of sunrays shone like a theatrical spotlight from the sky on a hill in the distance.


Occasionally on this lonely road, we would pass by an indigenous woman walking alongside the road in a slow but steady shuffling gait. She would be stooped over, suprisingly old looking, feet raw from miles walked, but always dressed in cheerfully colorful traditional shawls, dress, and felt hat above a long black braided ponytail. These women are extremely short (probably less than 5 ft.) and are immediately recognizable due to their style of dress and traditional hat. Unfortunately, up to this point, the only indigenous people that I had seen had been on the busy streets of Quito, selling Chiclets on the sidewalk, fruit in the street at stoplights, or Coke from a tiny booth on the corner. It is incredibly sad to see - these people seem to only be shells of a once proud native people, forced into extreme poverty by a rapidly changing society passing them by without a second thought or sideways glance. Many have lost their land, and therefore their way of life. Almost all are totally ignored on the streets by busy passers-by and drivers in taxis and SUVs. But there, high above and far-removed from the bustle of life in the city, I was able to observe the real indigenous life: harvesting hay, tending livestock, hand-washing clothes, walking, always walking. Some women we passed were so far from any structure, and judging by the speed at which they were moving, it was hard to imagine where they came from, where they could possibly be going, or when they would ever get there. Even more puzzling to me was the question, "What are they doing?". But one thing is for sure, they were never in a hurry. They don't have busy schedules (at least not in the sense that we think of busy schedules), meetings, appointments, etc. Certainly they must have many worries, but they are probably of a much different sort - Will it rain today? How will I make up for that lost sheep? Will my child be healthy again? Who are these people in this van speeding through my field? What are they doing? What are they thinking? Why are they in such a hurry? These indigenous people, campesinos (farm laborers, peasants), are so completely different from me and even the Ecuadorian people I have met in Quito thus far, that it is difficult to imagine what their lives are truly like. I would love to talk to some, but then...what would we talk about?

I've thought about how great it would be to be able to travel up here as a doctor and provide these people with healthcare. But then I wonder, "What could I really do that would be of long-term benefit to them?" Health education, I suppose, but then, how does one of these people change their lifestyle? They can't just call the plumber and have a toilet installed, or the electrician and have kitchen appliances intstalled. You could give them medicines, but what about when those (and you) are gone? What good, sustainable thing can you do? It's not for lack of desire, resources, or time to help that nothing is done. It's the way of life and the system that's to blame. When these people are fully and fairly compensated for goods they produce, are no longer mistreated, abused, used, or ignored, and empowered to better their own lives - that is when change or improvement is possible. Or is that improvement? Is there really a need? Or do I just imagine one? Aren't they better off without our worries, hurry, noise, violence, polution, sin? Do they really want what we think they should want? In an outside-looking-in sort of way - when considering the stress, hate, crime, ugliness of our "civilized" societies, their simple life seems somewhat desirable. That being said, I am thankful for my soft bed, hot shower, and well-stocked refrigerator.

Cayambe Volcano, the mountain itself, was spectacular. Although we didn't ever get a full view due to the constant cloudiness, the glimpses that we caught were amazing. The glacier is huge and in places, very broken up and rough - full of crevasses and seracs. It reminded me of pictures that I have seen from the Khumbu Icefalls of Everest (although probably on a much smaller scale). We hiked up a steep ridge to a high alpine lake at the base of the glacier. The rock/sand was very remiscent of the volcanic soil that you encounter when climbing in the Cascades of the Pacific Northwest. The hiking wears you out because every step up that you take, your foot slides back a bit - like trying to climb a huge sandpile. Not to mention that we reached an altitude of about 5000 meters (about 16,400 feet) - far and away the highest that I have ever been in my life. This mountain lies right on the Equator, and I believe it is the only place on Earth that has a latitude of 0 degrees and an average temperature of 0 degrees Celsius.


Street life

I know, I know - it's been awhile since I've posted anything. For everyone that has been checking and has been disappointed, I'm sorry. But thank you for continuing to be interested. I'll try to catch you up to speed on what has happened in the last week.

Last Saturday morning (June 3), I had my first bad experience on the street. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and I had just stepped out of my apartment at 10 am. I was going to catch a taxi at a nearby corner to head to a meeting with some people across town. I noticed a shabby looking guy carrying a beer bottle in one hand walking down the sidewalk toward me. I thought that it might be a wise choice to cross the street, but as I tried to cross there were several cars in the road that made it impossible. I also noticed that the man mirrored my movements in the street. When we finally met, he wouldn't let me pass and kept asking me for money (although his speech was slurred and I didn't really understand what exactly he was saying, I'm pretty sure it was something to the extent of "give me a dollar"). It was obvious that he was drunk, but I got the impression that he wasn't too dangerous. I kept saying "No, I'm sorry, No", and as I tried to pass him, he grabbed my shirt. At that point I gave him a firm shove away and briskly crossed the street and walked in the other direction. He only followed for about 10 meters, and then gave up. Although I just believe that he was too drunk to really think about what he was doing and probably didn't have any truly evil intentions, the experience kind of shook me up for a couple of reasons. I know that street violence and muggings are a part of big city life, and that it is not unlikely that during my time here it was bound to happen. What bothered me was the unexpectedness and audacity of the confrontation. It wasn't like I was out alone in a dark alley late at night. I was on a busy street, right in front of my apartment, in broad morning daylight with many people around. Perhaps it was a good experience to remind me to never let my guard down, no matter when, where, or who I am with. I know that I should always be cautious and mindful of my surroundings, but it wears on me. I return home to my apartment at night and am exhausted after spending a day in the city, and I think that a major reason is because of the constant mindfulness and caution that it requires. Mom, don't worry too much about this. I've spent many days now in the city and this minor incident is the worst that I have experienced or have heard any of my other classmates experience. In general I feel pretty safe, as much as I would in any big city, for example Chicago or New York. Relax.

After the encounter, I hailed what I believe to be the first real taxi cab of my life. After some brief confusion due to my terrible Spanish, I finally made it to my meeting with a missionary couple that has lived in Quito for about 30 years. They work with HCJB, a Christian missionary radio station that was started in Quito and now has stations and broadcasts all over the world. There is also a very nice and prestigious hospital in Quito that was started and is run in association with HCJB, called Hospital Vozandes Quito. This missionary couple has strong connections with the people throughout the radio station, hospital, and city of Quito and I was very grateful for being connected with them - thanks Peggy! They were very helpful and set up a meeting for me with some people in the hospital to see if I could volunteer and/or shadow there in the afternoons. After several days of trying to find time to meet with the busy staff, it was finally decided that I would be able to shadow in the ER three days a week, Mon-Wed-Fri, from 2 - 6 pm. I started on Friday. More on that later - first things first, chronologically speaking.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Ecuadorian History

After four days of Spanish classes, I feel like I am making significant strides. Yesterday, I made my first successful business transaction in public (that is, there was no confusion on either side...or so I thought). I bought a prepaid phone card, and was feeling pretty proud of myself. Until I showed it to my instructor today, and she told me that it was only for cellular phones (which I do not have here, of course). So that was a bit of a blow to my pride in my Spanish speaking abilities. But nonetheless, I am learning a tremendous amount - irregular verbs and their conjugations, various adjectives, common phrases, etc. I am even catching myself at times thinking in Spanish, or answering "si" instead of "yes" when speaking in English with other foreigners. I've been watching a bit of TV in the evenings (which I normally wouldn't do much of in the US), because it is good practice to hear Spanish spoken at real speed. Nevermind the fact that many of the sitcoms are reruns of terrible American sitcoms, like "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch". It's the Spanish that I'm interested in, trust me. I've been taking a nap (I prefer to call it a "siesta" - it sounds less lazy that way) almost every afternoon. Possibly because of the altitude that I am not used to yet (about 9200 ft.), but more likely because of the intense mental strain that learning a new language requires. I just feel so incredibly wiped out in the evenings, regardless of how much sleep I've been getting - which has been plenty.

I visited the "Museo Nacional del Banco Central" yesterday - a museum displaying the culture and art of the Ecuadorian people from the very beginning up until today. I tagged along with a group being given a tour by a guide that is a native of Ecuador. It was painfully obvious that this group of tourists was from the US. First of all, their clothes gave them away. In Ecuador, it is the standard that most all adults dress rather nicely - even many of the poorer citizens manage to dress in nice pants and collared shirts. Of course, youths will be youths and many wear jeans and less fancy shirts (similar to what may be found in the US), however, even they seem to make an effort to at least look presentable and decent. But these American tourists in the museum were dressed in faded and worn jeans, old t-shirts and showed no regard for their appearance. Not uncommon in the US, but certainly out of place here in Quito. However, their dress is excusable, what was inexcusable was their actions. This was a group of about 10 adults (most probably 30 years old or a bit older). Inspite of their age, they were very rude, inattentive, and interupting toward the guide. They were cracking jokes about the nature and nudity of some of the ancient artifacts. As with many ancient cultures, the ancient peoples of Ecuador worshiped fertility, and as such, many of the artifacts represented women and men involved in various intimate positions and stages of life. Of course, most of the statues and figures were nude - as was the reality of life back then. The artifacts were extremely old (several thousands of years BC) and very interesting. The guide showed a genuine pride (as he should) in his country and his people's long and rich history. But these Americans showed an overall disrespect and disinterest in it all. The low point was when we came to a life size statue of an ancient man and woman adorned in traditional costumes and jewels. After the tour guide had moved on out of sight, two women from the group went up to the statue of the man, and actually lifted up the loin cloth to "check out his package". They actually touched this extraordinary exhibit so they could snicker and crack jokes with eachother. At this point, I couldn't take anymore and I left the group. It was making me sick. I know that these people were on vacation, but that is no excuse to show such blatant disregard, ignorance, and insensitivity toward another culture and property. It made me ashamed just to be from the same country.

The history of Ecuador is very interesting and rich with culture and art. I won't pretend to know much of the details, only broad generalities. The history is broken up into several eras. The pre-Columbian era was before the arrival of the Spaniards. Artifacts from this era date back as far as 9000 BC. These artifacts consist of Stone Age tools, ceramics, figurines, statues, jewelry, etc. They are often extremely intricate and all are beautiful, if not in form, definitely in meaning and significance. It is fun to let one's mind wander back to what life must have been like. A predominant theme in these cultures was the concept of the duality of life - the sun and the moon, the man and the woman. Many of the artifacts attest to the fact that both sides of this duality seemed to be worshiped and honored in one form or another. In fact, a few of the cultures are believed to have been matriarchal. Of particular importance seems to be the Pachimama - or mother earth. One very interesting group of ceramics was a group of vases used to worship the gods. They were in the shape and form of different animals and would be filled with water when used for ceremonial dances. When the vessels were swished back and forth in the dance of worship, the movement of the water inside would make a sound similar to the sounds made by the animal that the vessel resembled (e.g., monkey, jaguar, etc.). There were also "whistling pots" that, when filled with water and tilted back and forth, would whistle in one direction and sound like the moan of a human voice when tilted in the other direction. The Incas arrived very late in this era (not more than a couple hundred years before the Spaniards arrived), yet they are the most well known pre-Colombian civilization.

In 1526, the Spanish arrived and, with their horses, armor, and cannons, soon conquered the Incas. Of course, the Spanish conquistadors brought with them their own style of art and their religion, Catholicism. This was the beginning of the Colonial era of Ecuadorian history. The story of colonial Ecuador is not much different than that of most of Latin America. The natives were conquered, killed, and persecuted, the land became a colony to a European country, and eventually there was a revolution in which the inhabitants of the land gained their independence. The mix of Spanish Catholic influence with the native art and lifestyle led to the development of a very unique blend of artistic influences termed the "Quito School of Art" or "Escuela Quiteña". The Spaniards trained the local indigenous people to create art with religious themes, such as the Virgin Mary, Christ, etc. The art became very elaborate and embellished with much gold - very baroque. Beautiful in its own way I suppose, but not nearly as interesting as the pre-Colombian work.

In the museum, the works are arranged somewhat chronologically, with the oldest artifacts first and then the Colonial works, followed by more modern works. It is this juxtaposition of pre-Colombian work (mostly made with ceramic, stone, shells, and some metals) with the ridiculously flamboyant, gold-embellished Colonial work that causes one (me at least) to somberly reflect on the influence of the European conquests on the indigenous peoples. It was really sort of sad, to see the complete loss of a very beautiful and rich (in meaning and significance) culture and its violent replacement with a culture so foreign and out of place.

Of course, I am a Christian and am not commenting on the overall goodness of the Church and spread of Christianity. However, I do question the manner in which European cultures (often in the name of the Church) have killed, tortured, enslaved, or eliminated entire cultures and people groups throughout history. The story is not much different than that of the history of relations between the US and Native Americans. I'm not so sure that the story is much different than that of the influence of the US today throughout the world. We are no longer in search of the fountain of youth or gold necessarily, but rather black gold (oil), the sale of cheap, manufactured goods, the source of new pharmaceuticals, or our own tourist desires. What beautiful cultures, lands, and ways of life are we destroying in order to further our own ideals, and fatten our own wallets? Is this justified simply because we are bigger and stronger, and that is the nature of capitalism? Relatively recently, oil was discovered in Ecuador. Many lumber and pharmaceutical companies are progressively decimating the rainforest in search of more, more, more. Take a beautiful, diverse, and resource-rich land, add capitalism and Western ideals, top off with some oil and what do you get? It saddens me to think about the prospects for the future of this country.

The rest of the history of Ecuador is interesting and beautiful, but more common. There is the era of the Republic, with many portrait paintings of heroes of the Revolution, florid landscapes, etc. And then there is the modern era, with many wonderful works of art, paintings, sculptures, etc. Most likely you haven't heard of many Ecuadorian artists - probably because Ecuador is poor, small, and has a fairly small international voice. However, this doesn't take away from the diversity and beauty of this proud country.

Did you know?...There are over 1500 species of birds in Ecuador, twice the number found on any one of the continents of North America, Europe, and Australia. There are 120 different species of hummingbirds alone in Ecuador. There are 25,000 species of vascular plants in Ecuador, compared with 17,000 in North America. There are 350 recorded reptile species in Ecuador, 100 more than North America. Pretty impressive for a country that is the size of the state of Nevada.