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.