I went to Baños but not for the baths

When I was telling people about my weekend plans to go to Baños, I was afraid I was going to pull a Romeo. Some declare this cool little town about 3.5 hours outside of Quito to be superior to Mindo. "Shoot," I thought. "I've just gone on and on about Mindo, and now I´m going to go fall hard core for Baños." It seems acceptable for a 15-year-old boy's love to be so fickle and flighty, but a refined 30-year-old woman should have a better idea of what she wants. (Though, on that note, I think I know more about what I don't want...) In the end, the worry that my heart would turn so quickly was for naught. While I wouldn't say I prefer Baños to Mindo, Baños does offer a number of outdoor adventures, great restaurants and über cheap spa treatments. It was another lovely weekend.

Last week, due to Fiestas de Quito, we finished the school week at 10:45 am on Thursday. Michelle, quickly becoming a surrogate older sister (or sugar momma--more on that later), and I hopped in a taxi to the bus station, bought our tickets, and boarded a bus to another sweet South American town. To get this far without any misadventures was, honestly, pretty refreshing. I am still kind of amused at how the buses work here. As we are making our way to Baños, the bus stops fairly frequently and the driver's assistant, as I will call him, hangs out the door and yells out our destination. People get on and off the bus all the way to the destination. There isn't really such a thing as a bus that just goes directly to a town, at least not as I have experienced it.

My first impression of this "gateway to the jungle" wasn't all that enthralling, but, well, first impressions aren't everything. After checking into our hostel, Posada del Arte, which was pretty freakin' cute, we headed directly to the spa we had told about, Yerbabuenas.

Room with a view...

Super chevere!

While I opted for a facial, Michelle went for the massage (I had been told to keep your undergarments on for the massages as the masseuses climb up onto you on all fours--I kindly passed along this information). By this point, I was taking quite well to the town. Follow inexpensive spa treatments with dinner at a place like Quilombo, which is a super eclectic Argentine restaurant that serves generous glasses of vino, and yay, I'll be cool hanging out in this place for awhile.

7:00 pm is a bit early for dinner in the Southern Hemisphere, as you can see, but check out the decor!

There were all these funky figurines hanging from the ceiling.

Those blocks are the menus. Michelle and I share a passion for fine cuisine. #kindredspirits

As we went to pay for dinner, I came to find that my Produbanco bank card is missing. I was certain I put it in my purse, but it was MIA. A bit of panic set in. In addition to worrying about someone having access to my funds, Michelle would once again have to foot the bill. It has become a running joke as she is often having to front me money for silly reasons. She was kind enough to give me a generous allowance for the weekend. (I have since located my card at the Swissotel, where I had sushi the week before.)

After dinner Michelle and I bummed around town a bit, found that there are actually some very cool little town squares, and retired at a reasonable hour to read and catch up on sleep. (Meanwhile in Quito, many of our friends were livin' it up for Fiestas.)

Breakfast in our hostel Friday morning proved fruitful, not just because they served delicious huevos rancheros, but because a fellow traveler told us about what an adventure it is to rent bikes and ride to a number of cascadas, or waterfalls. While Mindo is a bit more of a sleepy little town, Baños is one to offer lots of outdoor adventures. In fact, when my students heard I was taking this trip, they all began suggesting I do some good rafting and four-wheeling. As I continued to think about massages and pedicures, it occurred to me how likely it is that I am quite un-fun these students' eyes. Anyhow, they'd be a bit proud that I opted for something more than a relaxation retreat. 

sunscreen: check
 helmet: check
gafas del sol: check
"Let's do this!"

So the biking trek started off by riding down a road, a highway really, to get to each cascada. Have no fear, I was wearing a helmet, so the huge trucks whizzing by weren't intimidating at all. (Mom, I still think this was a safer bet than trying out the swing that gives you a view of the edge of the world.) 

See that big bike? That indicates to the truck drivers that they must share the road. As you probably already know, driving laws are very respected here. 

Just as I was feeling pretty smug about how in shape I am from those spinning classes, we turned off the main road and started quite the climb uphill to the first waterfall. Mmmm, there was a lot of walking the bike up that hill going on. After that bike-walking-climb, there is another little hike where you leave the bike behind before reaching the actual waterfall. It looked something like this:

And here is a look at the second cascada:

There are a number of waterfalls that one can hike to along this path, but after the first two, our legs were already burning, so we opted to go the one we were told was The Best! and then head back to town for yet another spa treatment.

El Diablo, as the waterfall is endearingly named, proved worth the effort. After climbing through some tunnels cut out of the mountain, we arrived. Check out the power of this cascada...nope, sorry, Blogger doesn't want to upload the video. Little devil. 

Well, anyway, after checking out the falls, we needed some sustenance of course, and, after lunch, as we were walking back to where we left the bikes (and would catch a truck back to town), I stopped at a juice stand where I had the best carrot-mango juice of my life. Previously I had never had carrot-mango juice, but even if I had, this was still the el mejor de mi vida! After exclaiming how delicious my second glass was, the juice stand man poured me even more. Really, I was good marketing for him. 

As we were arriving back into the center of town, we stumbled across a parade. Couldn't miss it really. 

Bright colors and festive music. 

A lady and her gentlemen.

It is quite unfortunate that we never found these mariachi men in the evening. They had awesome moves. Michelle and I are convinced the eligible bachelors are kept in some locked room. Whose got the key??

After a manicure for me and another massage for Michelle, we met up with Sung (a fellow teacher AND Minnesotan) and his girlfriend Liz for dinner at a great French restaurant. Crepe with spinach and cheese? Yes, please! Seeing as it was Friday night, Michelle and I though we'd find the action out on the town after dining with the lovely duo. What we found were definitely not those steamy mariachi men, but much younger, drunker men who wouldn't take no for an answer when they asked us to dance. We went back to the hostel a bit disappointed, but altogether the day had been quite nice. 

Before heading back to Quito on Saturday afternoon, guess what we did? Yep, another spa treatment. I went for the massage this time. The rumors proved true. Glad I headed my friend's advice. 60 minutes and $30 later, I was unknotted and unkinked, though. 

After such a weekend, I am sure I will make my way back to Baños as well. I am feeling quite fortunate for these experiences. I've long appreciated one of Twain's quotes: Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

So now the Christmas countdown begins. Home in T-10 days. 

Cheers to the holiday season!

Mucho amor,

Jame

Thanksgiving in the cloud forest

Note: Unless otherwise specified, the photos are courtesy Charles Denson. You can see his whole Mindo collection, which is amazing. 

So, it's happened again. I'm in love. Like the totally enamored, can't-stop-thinking-about-you kind of love. And, I'm so good at the honeymoon period. As this is a long distance relationship, that's bound to endure for some time. The apple of my eye? Object of my affection? Mindo. Mindo is magic. No, I see none of Mindo's flaws because I am too busy swooning over Mindo's chocolate factory, El Quetzal, the butterfly garden, a dozen quaint hostels--such as Caskaffesu where we stayed and the Dragonfly Inn where we were served a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner thanks to one of the school counselors and his lovely wife--beautiful hiking trails, and divine coffee (and the attractive British barrista at The Beehive doesn't hurt). I'm not going to lie, it was difficult to come back from this retreat.

Left to right: Bethany, KC, Amanda, Me and Michelle outside the hostel.

We had a half day of school on Friday, so a number of us boarded buses and hopped in cars to travel two hours north of Quito to magnificent Mindo, which, in addition to the above, is also one of the top 20 places in the world for bird-watching.

Hummingbirds are quite popular, but thousands of species call Mindo their home.

Located in the cloud forest, Mindo's climate is often wet, but also warmer than Quito. We lucked out with a dry, sunny weekend.

Swings at the juice bar.

After a pretty easy bus ride (the tour buses do boast comfy seats), we checked in to our hostel and began to wander around the town a bit. I know I am gushing, but seriously, love at first sight. The whole feel of Mindo is just so warm and charming. One can wander its whole perimeter in about 15 minutes. As you meander, you'll find a cute town square, dozens of delicious little restaurants, and an abundance of cute tiendas. We took in these sites as we made our way to El Quetzal for a chocolate tour. I love this chocolate factory/restaurant/hostel for its organic farm growing methods and the absolutely delicious chocolate it produces. Spent a pretty penny on Christmas gifts (and perhaps about a dozen chocolate bars for myself).

Later, as people went different directions for various restaurants para comer la cena, I went for Italian at El Nomada. I sampled a friend's gnocchi, which was scrumptious, and took down my own plate of tortellini. After dinner all the teachers gathered at The Dragonfly Inn, where many of us were staying, to hang out and savor the fresh night air and a cocktail. I retired at a decent hour to save myself for the big dinner and dance on Saturday.

Me levanté a las ocho mas or menos en sábado. After throwing on some running duds, I made my way to The Beehive for a light breakfast. So, I love Mindo, but I might have been drawn thus to take another look at that cute Englishman. Anyway, after breakfast I met up with Rebecca, Alli, Charles, Kim, and Bethany so we could hit the trails for a pretty intense uphill jaunt. Many of you did your Turkey Trot to prepare for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Well, we did the Jungle Jog to earn our mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. It was quite breathtaking. Mindo isn't officially the jungle, but it certainly feels like it when you hit the trails that surround the town. I'd like to say I was tranquilly breathing in the cloud forest air here, but really I was sucking wind. I can't complain, though. As I was bounding up the trail (in the company of Alli, who competes in Ironman competitions, and Charles, her fiance, both of whom have been personal trainers), I was feeling tough. I had one of those moments where the perfection of the moment just hits me. I soo could not be doing this back home I thought to myself. As we've previously concluded, the daily grind of life is not charming, or picturesque, or romantic, so when you do find yourself in such a moment, drink it in. Taste it. Smell it. Breathe it. Savor it. Just be with it.

If you check out the view, you'll see why it is called the cloud forest. 

We followed our run with lunch back at El Quetzal. I bought more stuff. I am currently obsessed with candied ginger. Lunch was then followed by a couple of hours of reading, sitting on the porch of my hostel...and at The Beehive. After this lounging, it was time to get fixed up for the Thanksgiving dinner, which has become something of a legendary tradition. Amanda and I made our way over to the Dragonfly a bit before 7 and walked into the dining area to find white tableclothes and wine glasses already filled with vino tinto. As more of the Americano teachers gathered, we chatted and milled about a bit before Todd requested we find our seats. Our meal began with ceviche, non-traditional, but a perfect warm-up for our taste buds. The main menu, prepared by Todd´s wife, Lorena, included turkey, stuffing, green beans with real fried onions, and mashed potatoes. Honestly I was grateful the food was plated for me because I could easily have gone back for seconds. Instead, I was still up for dessert: maracuyá (passion fruit) mouse and a light pumpkin pie bar. Both were delicious, and I was especially grateful for the pumpkin pie as this is one of my favorites!

After a good Thanksgiving dinner, I am content to doze in front of the TV, with the football game playing as ambient noise, but this year, after dinner, the dancing commenced. Rumor has it that there has been dancing on the tables at this belated Thanksgiving celebration. While we kept our shoes on the floor this year, we spent many hours gettin' jiggy wid it and shaking our booties until the early morning hours. My new friend, Mr. Mark Englishman, even joined us. A girl does appreciate a fun dancing partner. Again, I had one of those life is so grand right now moments. A couple of months ago I would never have known this is what the holiday would look like this year. Sometimes I really can appreciate the unpredictability of life...the unknowns.

So, the rooster crowing woke us all at an early hour on Sunday, before dawn broke, but I managed to drift in and out of sleep until 8:30. Sunday began with breakfast at the Dragonfly, followed by a great mochaccino at The Beehive. After packing (and feeling a bit of the Sunday blues about leaving), Amanda, Charles, Alli and I checked out the orchid and butterfly gardens. Turns out Mindo has even more Zen than I originally thought.

Photo courtesy Ms. Amanda Manning. Feeling like the butterfly whisperer here.

This...is a bit butterfly.

After lunch at Caskafessu, we boarded the 3-o-clock bus back to Quito, arriving back to the city in time to grab groceries and begin preparing for a short week ahead. (Fiestas de Quito this week means 3.5 days of school. Baños, the hot springs, beacons. I'll be chillin' here:
Posada del Arte.) It goes without saying that I will be returning to Mindo in the not too distant future. Mom and Dad come in January and I have quite the list of places to take them; Mindo will certainly be one.

Each week continues to get a bit easier here in South America. I am really looking forward to Christmas, though, when I will get to cuddle with my adorable nieces, eat plenty of homemade ravioli, thanks to Dad, Grandpa Red and Uncle Joe, and just enjoy the love and company of my family and friends back home. I´ve got Christmas music streaming in my classroom right now; while I haven´t missed the cold and snow, I´ll appreciate it for the holidays.

Mucho amor a todos,

Jame

BTW! A shout out to my littlest sister and her NEW fiancé Tom! The Baci clan is happy to be welcoming another great man into the fam! 

Tres Meses

Sunday, November 17th marked three months since I left Minneapolis and arrived in Quito. While we say "Time flies!", in some way it seems I have spent much more time here than that; it seems so much has happened in the past three months.

Like this much...(and more)

Moved into an apartment--painted the entire place, now working on the decor

Rode the Ecovia (one of the main bus lines)--I have yet to be groped as the man from the American Embassy promised; I'm not complaining about that

Bartered prices with taxi drivers--my negotiation skills are really coming along

Started a new job--oh, to be the new girl again, having to establish a reputation all over and prove myself to colleagues and administrators

Learned something about the courting trends of certain South American men--calling this North American woman 6 times in one afternoon will not score you points

Climbed Pichincha, one of the active volcanoes near Quito--looking forward to more climbing after the New Year

Shopped at the local market, Iñaquito (the blog I just linked here puts me to shame), most weekends

Shopped at the organic market in the park the other weekends

Discovered a multitude of cafès that serve divine chocolate caliente

Attended yoga classes which double as Spanish lessons--most important take away: respira profundo Deep. Breath....Breath. Deeply.


Located a good brewery, no, a great brewery--where many of the expats go on Thursday night

Joined a gym--maybe it's my ticket to meeting some more Quiteños with whom to practice my...

Spanish--I haven't worked on it as much as I had hoped, the weekdays leave me pretty drained, but reading on the bus in the morning has improved my vocabulary por lo menos

I've traveled to Otavalo--seriously awesome artesian handicrafts

Wandered through Old Town--Wow, the Spanish Colonial part of the city is kind of romantic, kind of right out of a movie, especially Calle La Ronda

Had a long weekend at Same--la vida en la playa es muy tranquila

Ran my first 10k race--WeRunQuito! Happy to ignore the arthritis in my knees in order to feel the competitive spirit come alive again

Discovered an amazing tea shop (thank you, Amanda)--I down a solid 5 cups of tea a day; I've gotta have my quality loose leaf

Visited the Guayasamin museum--one of the most famous Latin American painters, Oswaldo Guaysamin, fought for the rights of the indigenous; his works reflect this quest to improve all human rights

Learned the routes to several friends' homes--no small feat for one of the most directionally challenged people you know, right Dad?

Found out about this lovely drink called a Pisco Sour--my taste buds just starting hopping thinking about it

Discovered new delicious fruits--granadilla (also known as "booger fruit" which I think is a horrible nickname for this mouth-watering fruit high in Vitamin C), pitahaya (I was luckily warned it is a laxative before I devoured 4 or 5, which would be easy to do)

Treated myself to a couple of pedicures--for $6 a pop I just can't resist this luxury from time to time

Made some new, awesome friends--this is what makes the experience really worthwhile, feeling connected to people who also thirst for adventure and challenge and culture

Despite the challenging adjustment period, my time so far in Quito proves to be invaluable. While I can't say I love what the challenge feels like some days, I am learning to just breath into it; I believe each moment has something to teach us, and I know from some of the toughest moments is where we end up reaping some of our greatest wisdom. I am incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity to discover and grow, so on days I feel a bit whiny, I am reminding myself to suck it up; there is beauty even in the kind of hardship that I find myself experiencing. Helen Keller wrote some lovely words once (or like a dozen times): Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all. The adventure isn't always romantic or picturesque, but it certainly does inspire good reflection. It certainly does open my eyes to more of the world. And it certainly does inspire a deeper sense of gratitude for the life I've been granted.

A merry weekend to you all. Missing your smiles, hugs, words, and more.

Con mucho amor,

Jame


 

La hospitalidad de una familia

I woke Saturday morning to exuberant voices of children laughing together. Oh, and the sound of salsa music. 7:30 am and the small town of Mascarilla, nestled amidst the mountains of Ecuador, about 3 hours north of Quito, was full of life.The niños I heard were Ana's adorable nieces and nephews. The salsa music was drifting up from someone's computer down the street, though drifting is perhaps a bit of a euphemism; it was, rather, blaring. 

Last weekend Ana invited me to her family's casa for homemade colada morada y pan dulce y pan de sal. It was quite the treat. First, being with a family, and second, filling myself such delicious tastes of Ecuador.

This week, I think I'll let the photos do the talking.

The base for colada morada. Many fruits were to be added. Love the rich color. And the rich flavor.

The bonds of this family are strong.

Fresh pan. Baci girls know how to eat their bread.

Amidst the mountains.

Newfound friend?

Ana and una sobrina.

Two of my favorite colors to juxtapose. 

She's the cutest. And, boy, do I miss Natalie and Giatta.

In honor of Dia de los Muertos, people visit the graves of their relatives.

A gorgeous photo of Ana's parents. Muchas gracias to these lovely people for welcoming me into their home for the weekend.

La Vida Ecuatoriana

In an effort to keep the blog lighter from time to time, here is a look at some scenes from my daily life...and 10 things I am ADORING about Quito:

Before I left, my second cousin Michael suggested that I take pictures of what I see out my windows so that I could look back someday and remember the vistas of my life here. I thought it was sound advice.

Angle #1 from my bedroom window.

Angle #2 from  my bedroom window. A room with a view, just not a very appealing one. I've come to see past the "blemishes" of the city, though.

If you look down the street in the previous photo, you can make out Parque Carolina. Here is one of the landmarks of the park, which is totally bustling on weekends.

I am not David Letterman, so these next "loves" are in no particular order:
1. Flowers, such as roses, for $2 a bouquet

I always have at least one bouquet in the house at all times. 

2. Farmers' markets and super fresh produce (Broccoli tastes different here, I swear. I often eat it cooked and cold with no butter or salt because it is naturally DELICIOUS. I won't even start talking about the avocados and mangos...)

Some of the homemade options at the organic market. (Kelley Conley Reiter, I need a photo lesson at Christmas. I am not doing this food justice.)

3. I can afford a maid. It's amazing. I love her.

I come home on a Monday to a spic and span room and laundry that is folded much more neatly than I take the time for. 

4. I can drink coffee without it increasing my neurotic behaviors. They say it's the altitude.
5. Hot chocolate
6. Artesian chocolate bars such as Kallari (My dad will be getting a stockingful for Christmas.)
7. Easy travel to places such as the OCEAN
8. A classroom with a whole wall of windows
9. $6 pedicures--I am certain my sisters will pay $800 for a plane ticket to get a $6 pedicure. Absolutely certain.
10. It's light outside when I go to work. All school year.
I'm on a role. Let's make this a Baker's Dozen.
11. No. Winters.
12. My feet have no issues with raynaud's here--this means that they aren't turning purple and donning attractive sores
13. Markets where they don't sell food, but they sell great anillos and other beautiful treasures

My new little elephant ring. It was going to be one of Cass's Christmas gifts, but he really likes hanging out on my hand. Sorry sister. 

And just for good measure...
(See, Gram, despite the weekly tears, there is a lot I am appreciating about my new life.)
14. Yoga and spinning in Spanish--it's like happy hour; I get two for one: exercise and a Spanish lesson

My last blog was a little sad. That's life and that's the growing pains of change, I suppose, but today was a better day in the classroom. I brought cookies for all of my kiddos. They were grateful and suggested perhaps I bring them every Monday. I think maybe we should all switch off bringing treats. I mean, I'm not teaching in Dubai, I'm teaching in South America; the cost of living is lower than the States, and so is my salary. Anyway, today the students were presenting songs they had put on their soundtrack for The Crucible. These kids have great taste in music, and it was clear they had spent time coming up with songs to connect to characters, themes, tone, mood, and scenes from the play. To my students' delight, it was a pretty "chill" day, and Jamie (as they call their teachers by their first names) was quite tranquila. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I will sleep soundly after today's progress.

Buenas noche a todos, mi queridos amigos and familia.

Jame

Sleepless in the Southern Hemisphere

I am incredibly close to both of my grandmothers. I extend endless gratitude and love to both of them for countless conversations on love, life, food, and Dear Caroline columns. They have taught me to cook, knit, appreciate art fairs and wine and ice cream (mmmm, didn't need much help there). I strive to be like both of them in dozens of ways. One thing I inherited from them, though, that isn't always pleasant, is sleeplessness. I got two great nights of sleep this week, but I hit a road block tonight. Bummer, dude. My room is warm, my bed is cozy, but I am tossing and turning. School's on my mind.

Fall is one of my favorite times of year. While the spring, seasonally, symbolizes a new beginning, being a teacher, autumn has always been when I feel freshest. My energy and excitement for a new school year has been rejuvenated over the summer, and I generally begin school in September feeling I have acquired new insights after a summer of reflection. The beginning to this school year has been tougher than the last several. It is no real surprise given most everything about my world changed. I'm the new girl again, to the administrators, to the other teachers, and to my students. No reputation precedes me. No norms or routines were already in place when September 4th arrived.

The students at Americano are some of the friendliest I have taught. Muy amables we say in Spanish. They are also some of the most social. I thought having 12-16 students in a class would be a breeze; I sheepishly admit it still feels pretty tough...and when I have 28 students for a new research class I was gifted, uffff da. I am imagining the other teachers out there, and my peers at Jefferson, a bit astonished as I admit this. Most teachers would give their right foot for these numbers. I imagined these class sizes to feel like a gift from the Heavens.

So I'm struggling. My students are telling me I need to relax more. Some are also keen on wanting to tell me how to put together lessons. Others are expressing their appreciation for feeling challenged. I'm seeking a balance. It's taking time. Every so often I go through periods of questioning my career choice. Can I do this for several more decades? Maybe I'm just not cut out for this? How am I going to keep my passion? Each time I've been here, I am eventually buoyed by something, whether it is one of those rare magical moments you have with your students where the angels practically sing as each student is keyed in to the discussion and new depths are reached, or I am finally able to make a connection with a student with whom I am struggling to connect. Eventually I come back to reside in the belief that teaching is not my career, it is my vocation. Right now, I'm just not feeling that. Kind of like I imagine some days one doesn't feel like parenting. Or feel like being married. So I'm reminding myself that anything worth anything is hard work. And I'm picking up books from the library entitled When Teaching Gets Tough and Teaching Class Clowns (And What They Can Teach Us). As I'm reading Allen Mendler's introduction to the former, I'm nodding my head as he asks, "Do you often feel like a battered boxer, struggling to survive..." and "Have you gotten to a point where you are fed up and think about quitting?" Mendler, dude, you got my number. So I keep reading, and Al reminds me that "Nobody in the midst of stress wants to think about how there are still six months left to the school year or 25 years to go until retirement..." so he advices "Live each day as if there is no tomorrow" and "Understand that change is a roller-coaster ride." While a bit cliche, I find some comfort in his words. I'm intense. I have high expectations. I also know I have to regularly remind myself that change, in myself and my students, takes time. Even when we move forward, there are days we fall back.

I've always believed I have an abundance to learn from my students. In the midst of my angst right now, I also know by the end of the year....or even the end of this month, they will have taught me about culture, about myself, about being a better teacher, about teenagers. Some of my anxiety stems from the fear that I won't teach them as much as they teach me, actually. I don't want to be good enough. I want to really support them. I suppose I have some sense of failure right now, but I'm trying to be compassionate towards myself because I think that comes before the ability to be compassionate towards others, and compassion, an abundance of it, is needed in the classroom every day.

So, cookies. I think next week we begin with cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. My first attempt at baking at this altitude looks a bit flat, but they are still altogether tasty galletas. I'm hoping that the chocolate and butter and sugar will lead my students to forgive me the poor aesthetics. And I'm not trying to bribe them, but I think some peace agreements are needed, and I don't think I can bring, like, peyote to school. I don't have any anyways.

My inspiration comes from two old dead white guys tonight (sounds kind of like the American cannon, eh?):

“[Kids] don't remember what you try to teach them. They remember what you are,” comes the wisdom from Jim Henson.

William Arthur Ward argues that “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” 

I'm working on it, mis estudiantes.

la playa se llama Same

I had a typical Ecuadorian moment last Tuesday. I was with Amanda and Michelle, two other teachers from Americano, and we had taken a taxi from school to the bus station to buy tickets for the beach for last weekend. Michelle had called ahead and was told that we could only buy tickets 48 hours in advance, hence our Tuesday trip to the station. So, we walk up to the ticket window and ask to buy 4 tickets to Same (Saa-may) for Thursday after school (the three of us plus my friend Vale, another teacher at Americano, my new Quiteña amiga, were planning to travel together). Well, as it turns out, there were only two seats left on the bus. Big groan. Okay, here comes Ecuadorian moment #2 (which is much sweeter than moment #1): I call Vale to tell her about our conundrum. Her response: buy the two tickets and then one of you can ride with me and my parents. While South America and its ever-changing rules can be mind-boggling at times, I have been so fortunate to be meeting and spending time with such wonderful people.

In addition to packing me in her parents' car, Vale also gave us a great recommendation for accommodations in Same. Vale's friend Jaime runs beach cabañas at a place called El Rampiral. It was serendipitous that I ran into Vale in the teacher's lounge before booking a place in Atacames, a beach close to Same, because Atacames would have been a lot more action, when what the chicas needed this weekend was some good R&R. El Rampiral is a bit rustic, but we fell asleep to the sound of the ocean waves each night and our cabin had an ocean front view. Serendipity is one of my favorite words. So is tranquility.

Though, before the tranquilo life of the coast, one must drive to the coast, which was less tranquilo y mas loco. With Vale's padre in the driver's seat, the best way I can describe the drive is to compare it to being in one of those racing video arcade games. Most of the way to Same from Quito is a two lane highway with little light; the roads are winding with plenty of blind curves. It's just standard for cars to zoom in front of one another, and Vale's dad is an expert car weaver. I did my best to take my cues from Vale and her madre. They dozed in and out of sleep much of the way, and if they trusted our driver this much, who was I to question his methods?

We did make one pit stop on the way to the very green province of Esmereldas: a little roadside restaurant that serves fritada, or fried pork. This is a popular Ecuadorian dish that my students have been encouraging me to try. I wasn't disappointed. From time to time I'll be okay to put down some of that salty, fatty, fried meat.

Moving along here, about 6 hours after leaving Carcelen, where school is located, we arrived in Same. Vale's parents dropped me off at El Rampiral to wait for mis amigas who were still en route via the bus. When they arrived around 11 pm, they did have a story to tell of course. About an hour outside of Same, they heard a noise that Amanda describes as a necklace breaking and all the beads tumbling to the floor. Turns out it was a window shattering. Someone had thrown a rock from outside of the bus in order to create a diversion. The hope is that the bus would then stop and bandits could board to rob the riders. Fortunately the bus did not stop until a bit later to clean up the mess. So, all in all, they arrived safely and with a bit of a story for my blog.

After sleeping quite soundly Thursday night, I woke up at 7 and took a run down the beach. Yes, hello, tranquility, there you are. It was a pretty cloudy day, and so there didn´t seem much purpose in putting on our swimsuits. Instead we donned t-shirts and jeans for some horseback riding. Jaime had only to walk us across the street to have a bit of adventure in the Esmereldan forest. Amanda pointed out the machete hanging from his belt, and I shrugged curiously at the sight of the long sword.

My little pony. Not the one I rode.

After I mounted the mare (who was in heat), and the others mounted the two colts and a stallion (who were quite aware of my horse´s state), I better understood why Jaime carried the machete. Bush-wacking. We were traveling on a trail, mas o menos, but it seemed not to be a trail much traveled. Throughout our ride, I was both in awe of the beauty around me, and quite aware of the way fear works within me. While I have ridden horses before, this environment was new for me, and my horse was being a bit moody. The unknown of how the experience would turn out--whether I would spend the whole time on my mare´s back, or whether I would have to plan an escape--detracted some from a deeper enjoyment of the experience. This is standard for me; apprehension holds me back from fully immersing myself. I say this with a bit of humor: I have found myself often wondering here, "Will I survive this experience?" At its root, anxiety is a fear of death. Death is a reality with which I have yet to come to terms. I am not trying to morbid, but I feel I need to make peace with this reality to cut down my anxieties and fears. I find myself appreciating an experience after it is over sometimes because, well, I lived through it, so now it is less scary and more cool. I want all the coolness during the experience, not afterwards.

Just starting out. Such a lush landscape.

Well, after living to tell about the horseback riding adventure, we needed to find a restaurant to dine at, of course. Another of Vale´s friends recommended this awesome, eclectic place that looks like this:

As you can see, eating at 7:30 is a bit early for the South Americans.

And the drinks looked like this:

The perfect piña colada.

And the food looked like this:

I love art that you eat.

So we looked like this:

Michelle and Amanda.

Michelle and Jamie.

After dinner, we retired to our beachside cabin, happy as clams. Reading and more sleeping ensued.

Our second beach day was no disappointment either. I started the day with another run down the beach. What struck me about Same is that the sound of the waves mutes all else. While you can see children playing and families enjoying each other's company, the waves crashing into shore was the soundtrack for the whole weekend. In her young adult novel, Tithe, Holly black writes, "She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air." The words that strike me most are "serene brutality." Let´s speak of oxymorons for a moment, mis estudiantes. There is a definite truth to this on the beach of Same. The waves crashed hard, almost violently against the shore all day and all night, but they were serene in their ability to mesmerize the woman watching their continual motion.

You know what brings deeper serenity? A massage on the beach, next to those constant waves. Yep, we all signed up for one of those. You know you´re in South America when the massuese comes to your beach and pushes around your swimsuit to kneed your booty with no hint of a shade or cover for your body. You also know you´re not in Kansas anymore when the massage costs a mere $20.

Despues de los masajes, we were invited to meet up with Vale and her family down the beach at Casa Blanca. The sun peaked in and out of the clouds all afternoon, and 30 spf sunscreen did not protect the gringita from a bit of a sunburn. Not to worry, though, it was nothing like the 2nd degree sunburn I got in Big Sky, Montana one summer years ago.

Around 4:00 pm Amanda, Michelle, and I followed the Izquerido family to their gorgeous flat overlooking the beach for a traditional almuerzo. Their cook served ceviche, pulpa (octopus), potato soup and for dessert Magnum ice cream bars. ¿Cómo se dice "I´m stuffed like a pig on Easter"? Do you ever get motion sickness from walking? Sometimes I almost do after such a delicious meal as that. We all needed to get horizontal to let our tummies rest, and then the plan was to go out with the rest of the locals for a seafood dinner around 10 pm. We never made it out of our beds that night. It was all good, though. A weekend of sleeping, eating, and reading is pretty perfect in my book.

We capped off the weekend with Vale and her family coming to the rescue once again (a good story will often end in a similar fashion to how it began). We were waiting for Jaime´s driver to pick us up and bring us to the bus station for our ride back to Quito and the clock was beginning to tick. After trying to call our driver and being thoroughly confused by his rapid speaking, I called Vale. She called the hombre and even she struggled to make out what he was trying to communicate, so she said she and her family would come and bring us to the station. When they arrived, Vale´s dad decided we would pile into the two cars (Vale´s brother and sister-in-law were with us now too) and head back to the city together. My gratitude towards her family is quite endless at this point, and then my heart is about to burst when we stop not once, but twice, on the way home in order to try some new, sweet foods: pan de yuca y yogurt and a tasty ice cream from an adorable little roadside shop. It´s a wonder my pants still zip.

This weekend I´ll be chilling in Quito, eating sushi, painting the living room and kitchen (well, repainting some), hopefully heading to the opening of a brewery, and hitting up the organic market. All good things.

How is Minnesota? or the States? or Europe? How is Jefferson? How are your beautiful children? Hearing from you is so wonderful, so please keep me updated.

Mucho amor,

Jame

The Goldilocks Effect

Well, the home makeover continues. I am taking a break from the painting the entryway here. I am on a mission, but losing some steam; I'm putting the paint away for a couple of weeks after I finish up today. To be honest, I am a little weary of the color for the kitchen/living area. I thought I had bought a light green, but it turns out to be more of a creamy yellow, which warms up the house and goes well with the bedroom color, but does not accent the gray and white granite in the kitchen the way I had imagined. Sigh and deep breath. It is still much better than florescent white walls.

This weekend has been altogether quite lovely. Something has happened in the past week and a half that leads me to feel much more settled and at home in Quito now. I think it's called the passing of time. Robert Frost says that "nothing gold can stay," but on that same token, the tough stuff does get easier. I am feeling much more like my spunky, fun-loving self than a few weeks ago. My students have been looking at me with some amused expressions on their faces because I have a bit more pep in the classroom. Buckle up, kiddos.

So, Friday night I painted the 2nd bedroom. Check it out.

Sooner than later I need to get a bed for the room. I have a number of guests that begin arriving in December, starting with Mrs. Hannah Julien and her husband Eric Antonson. I can't wait to have some others in my home spreading their good energy around the place. Someone to cook with and for also just tickles my fancy.

Anyway, I woke up at 6 am on Saturday morning to go with our school librarian Jeanette and her husband Bacil to a sleepy little town called Atahualpa, which is about 2 hours outside of Quito. The bus ride was actually quite enjoyable. I have come to realize that Americans really are much louder than many other peoples. Ecuadorians can get rowdy with the best of 'em, I think, but altogether, people talk more softly. While the bus was full, it was not loud. The Spanish music provided a soft ambient background as well.

When we arrived in Atahualpa, we got off the bus and ended up quickly finding a large hill/small montaña to climb. On the way up, we saw plenty of hens, dogs, and it seems everyone in town was helping build a house. A couple of children scampered up behind us, laughing sweetly when they would catch up to us. It seemed they were playing a sort of game with us. After an hour of steep trekking, we arrived at the top to have quite the vista of the entire little town. We didn't have much time at the top because the bus back to Quito left Atahualpa at 1 pm (well, we thought 1 at the time, but as it turned out, it was 1:25, which meant really 1:35).

As we were making our way through town back to the bus stop, I stopped and got some fresh bread for .35 and then bought a banana for .05 from a fruit and vegetable truck that was going around. I cannot stop gaping at the prices for delicious, fresh food here.

Speaking of food, the girl who thinks about lunch as soon as she finishes breakfast, and dinner as soon as she finishes lunch had a fantastic dinner last night in the central historico. It was my friend Celeste's 26th birthday. A group of us from school met up at a restaurant called Vista Hermosa and beautiful view it did have! It was a little too chilly to dine on the rooftop, but we did take in the breathtaking site before sitting down inside. I ordered shrimp in a garlic sauce and was then introduced to the best drink of my life: a Pisco Sour. O.M.G. I just know the glass is rimmed with sugar and it has a fluffy, beaten egg white mixed into some smooth liquor.

Continuing with my food trend, I finally located the organic market that is open every other Sunday in Parque Carolina, right across from my apartment. Score. I bought some fresh produce for the week, and a homemade chocolate, pumpkin spread that reminds me of fall back home. I could spoon the whole jar into my mouth right now. Thoughts of a beach getaway next weekend are the only thing holding me back. Swimsuit time.

I am currently debating hard core about the color of my living room. Here's what I've got so far:

I'll live with it for a week and see where I am at. Ms. Independent would love if her female family members were here now to give their opinions....and help repaint if need be. 

To close today, I've been thinking about this new place I am in, feeling more at ease and comfortable with my new life. While life in Minnesota was beautiful for dozens of reasons, it felt something like when Goldilocks lays on the bed that is too soft. The first weeks of being in Quito I could compare to Goldilocks finding the bed that is too hard. Now, happily, Goldilocks is snuggled into the bed that is just right. She's relishing in that feeling while it lasts. 

I hope that at least part of your day felt like that, just right. 

Mucho amor,

Jame

Making a house a home: Part 1

So, you may be aware that mi madre has this awesome knack for interior decorating. My parents are currently building a house by Linds and her family, and I am enjoying hearing about all of the details and decisions they are making as the construction has been underway for a couple of months now. My mom has played a large role in the decor in my Minneapolis condo; I have appreciated her input a lot. When I made the decision to teach abroad, though, I decided that part of my evolution as an adult needed to include the ability to create a home on my own. I was tempted to do the roommate thing here as some of the perks, like crazy cheap rent and company in times of real loneliness, were tempting in the face of such a big change, but ultimately I stuck to my guns on the challenge of fixing up a place on my own. Some of my friends here have these amazing Ecuadorian flats that just feel, well, like Ecuador. My apartment, as it is new construction, isn't necessarily very South American feeling, but the stark white walls presented an opportunity for me to reinvent a space. This past Monday I, along with one of my new local friends, Francisco, went on an excursion to a paint store, Sherwin Williams, actually. I intended to take care of business on my own, but Francisco insisted on meeting up and going along. I was quite fortunate to have him with because, while my Spanish is improving, discussing types of brushes, paint primers, and level of gloss isn't currently in my vocabulary. 

Having purchased the paint, I was anxious to get started on Operation House 2 Home. After reading until 2:30 am Saturday morning, I still woke up at 7:30 am--it is nearly impossible for me to sleep in here--quite excited to get started on my project. After hitting up the gym to pump some iron and my weekly trip to Iñaquito, the market that is walking distance from my house, I donned the closet thing to painting clothes I have here: Lululemon cropped pants and a t-shirt.

I finished priming and one coat of paint before it was time to get ready for a friend's 30th birthday party. A lot of good food and some salsa dancing somehow made for a terrible night of getting stomach sick. My mom used to tell stories about how I was a projectile vomiter as a little baby. Mom, it wasn't just about being a baby. Some things never change. TMI. I know. Sorry 'bout it. Today I was supposed to go on an excursion to el mitad del mundo, otherwise known as the equator. I got up, showered, and walked to meet the other teachers who had signed up for the adventure. While waiting for everyone to arrive, I decided I couldn't chance the bus ride and an afternoon of walking, so I made my way back home. El mitad del mundo another time.

This picture is out of order, but I am having a tiff with the blog right now. This is me doing the edging, which is usually what Dad does. 

The BRAT Diet served me well, and I got myself to put the second coat of paint on the bedroom. I still need to frame 3 great paintings I bought from an artist in Otavalo to hang on the wall, but take a look at the following pictures to see the room remodel.

Even the great natural light I get doesn't make me room sunny with such sterile walls. 

This does feel a little like an asylum to me.

One coat down, one to go. 

So much warmer. I love it.

As always, I miss you all. I hope you are enjoying the otoño. Nos hablamos pronto.

Jame