we have a new president
also, i saw a very nasty thing yesterday:
i was walking down the street and two dogs, who had just finished their sexy business, were coming towards me, stuck together. my father has always advised me that i should throw hot water on such dogs in order to scare them into separating.
however, i had no hot water on me. and, the thing about these dogs is that one was totally unresponsive: the female. she was lying on the ground, being dragged down the street by the male dog - attached. it began to seem weird, and when the dogs past, i saw that not only was the female dogs head bumping in accordance with the cobblestone streets, but a trail of blood was following her.
how did this happen?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
sabotage (giving thanks again)
so heres how the rest of my day went on t-giving:
after having eaten the turkey sandwich, i walked out of my house at about 728 to go teach my 730 class.
i have been coming later and later mainly because i live 2 blocks away and feel that i can teleport when necessary. it was pouring rain, and i was secretly hoping that only two of my students would show up like they had the previous day. in such a circumstance, i played cards with them and felt justified in anything i would do. really one student is on a busines trip, one was absent, on was taking a make-up midterm, and one came very late. ineither case all handed in papers.
wasnt the case thursday. they were gathered outside the classroom and i saw ------ going to a cafe with her class "its too loud in there" she said. and it was. there had been a party and it was just wrapping up. "but i will see you at santos?" -- "see you then."
the party ended just as i was about to tell my class that we should also go to a cafe. but, it got quiet, so we went to class. i, however, went to my locker in order to get my lesson plans and the papers that were turned into me. but oops. when i got to my locker, i saw that those things werent there. i knew for a fact that i had put them there, so i figured it must have something to do with ------, the woman i share a locker with. i searched a bit, but i had to get back to class and i did empty handed. i had to start the class off with one of these: "well, i had a lesson plan, but it got taken out of my locker. dont worry though, i will probably find them later. doesnt matter. we can approximate." -- "what about the papers we handed in?" -- "gone." -- "what about the midterm i took?" -- "gone. but dont worry. i will give you all a"
class went fine. then, i met anna, the aforementioned ------, and her roomate ----- at the bar called santos that has ladies night every thursday. at this bar, i drank sparkling water. the ladies drank these weird blue drinks. the issue came up with ------ as to why she has stopped hanging with the guy she had been with. it turns out that he only wanted to be friends with benefits, and ------, being more mature than that, preferred to let the whole thing go.
before long, the reggaeton came on and everyone began dancing. even i stood up to dance, but when i did, anna began coughing. not a sick cough, but a choking cough. before i could ask her what was wrong, i began coughing in the same way. and, before a couple seconds, everyone in the entire bar was choking. anna and i rushed out to the balcony for some fresh air and in a minute we got our breath back. ------ had rushed downstairs, but ----- was still on the dance floor. clearly we were under attack by wmd and anna and i decided we needed to get out of there. our roomate merryn had texted anna earlier saying that the bar she was at was where it was really happening. so we went there. ----- was not very excited about it and when we arrived she said, "why did you drag me here?!" with not an ounce of humor.
pop, as is called that bar, is an abomination. still, everyone ive ever met in cuenca was there. thats always entertaining. within minutes, ----- was having fun with a random guy and
------ had a look alike dancing on the bar (she claims it wasnt her). merryn admitted that she had bigged-up the bar a bit too much via text. i was still enjoying it though, make no mistake. when we were in montañita, a guy we recognized from the cuenca bars offered to drive us home. this was at 1am and he stumbled as he offered. i saw him at pop and asked why he was nowhere to be found the next morning. he said he didnt wake up until 4pm that day.
i was sitting talking to a cedei teacher and anna was sitting talking to a guy who we know who is not the most upstanding gentleman in the world. evidently he was pouring he heart out to anna, wondering why we dont like him and wondering why we would not excuse him for his trangressions. he made sure to tell anna to tell my that he isnt really a bad guy and that please would i forgive him. pretty pathetic scene.
one of merryns friends came by the bar at that point to get her a water: "shes wasted." we all went outside and merryn was doing a dance though she was meant to be standing still. soon, we all left. the 4 roomates tooka cab home together and merry sat with her head out the window. i may have professed some sort of liking to watch people vomit, but i was joking. it was fun to be in the taxi with my roomates who i like. the chemical warfare had put a damper on the night for me, and im not sure of the effects it had on me, but i slept until 1pm and missed both my spanish class and dentist appointment.
the next day the roomate who is the owner of the cats came by and lamented that the apartment was dirty, that she was seeing a psychologist, that the house needs her ex-boyfriend (guy who begged for forgiveness at pop) because he is such a good housekeeper, and that the cats dont remember her even though she is their owner. she was indignant.
later that night i asked my locker mate, ------, why she tried to sabotage my career. she was shocked, surprised, confused and apologetic all at once.
after having eaten the turkey sandwich, i walked out of my house at about 728 to go teach my 730 class.
i have been coming later and later mainly because i live 2 blocks away and feel that i can teleport when necessary. it was pouring rain, and i was secretly hoping that only two of my students would show up like they had the previous day. in such a circumstance, i played cards with them and felt justified in anything i would do. really one student is on a busines trip, one was absent, on was taking a make-up midterm, and one came very late. ineither case all handed in papers.
wasnt the case thursday. they were gathered outside the classroom and i saw ------ going to a cafe with her class "its too loud in there" she said. and it was. there had been a party and it was just wrapping up. "but i will see you at santos?" -- "see you then."
the party ended just as i was about to tell my class that we should also go to a cafe. but, it got quiet, so we went to class. i, however, went to my locker in order to get my lesson plans and the papers that were turned into me. but oops. when i got to my locker, i saw that those things werent there. i knew for a fact that i had put them there, so i figured it must have something to do with ------, the woman i share a locker with. i searched a bit, but i had to get back to class and i did empty handed. i had to start the class off with one of these: "well, i had a lesson plan, but it got taken out of my locker. dont worry though, i will probably find them later. doesnt matter. we can approximate." -- "what about the papers we handed in?" -- "gone." -- "what about the midterm i took?" -- "gone. but dont worry. i will give you all a"
class went fine. then, i met anna, the aforementioned ------, and her roomate ----- at the bar called santos that has ladies night every thursday. at this bar, i drank sparkling water. the ladies drank these weird blue drinks. the issue came up with ------ as to why she has stopped hanging with the guy she had been with. it turns out that he only wanted to be friends with benefits, and ------, being more mature than that, preferred to let the whole thing go.
before long, the reggaeton came on and everyone began dancing. even i stood up to dance, but when i did, anna began coughing. not a sick cough, but a choking cough. before i could ask her what was wrong, i began coughing in the same way. and, before a couple seconds, everyone in the entire bar was choking. anna and i rushed out to the balcony for some fresh air and in a minute we got our breath back. ------ had rushed downstairs, but ----- was still on the dance floor. clearly we were under attack by wmd and anna and i decided we needed to get out of there. our roomate merryn had texted anna earlier saying that the bar she was at was where it was really happening. so we went there. ----- was not very excited about it and when we arrived she said, "why did you drag me here?!" with not an ounce of humor.
pop, as is called that bar, is an abomination. still, everyone ive ever met in cuenca was there. thats always entertaining. within minutes, ----- was having fun with a random guy and
------ had a look alike dancing on the bar (she claims it wasnt her). merryn admitted that she had bigged-up the bar a bit too much via text. i was still enjoying it though, make no mistake. when we were in montañita, a guy we recognized from the cuenca bars offered to drive us home. this was at 1am and he stumbled as he offered. i saw him at pop and asked why he was nowhere to be found the next morning. he said he didnt wake up until 4pm that day.
i was sitting talking to a cedei teacher and anna was sitting talking to a guy who we know who is not the most upstanding gentleman in the world. evidently he was pouring he heart out to anna, wondering why we dont like him and wondering why we would not excuse him for his trangressions. he made sure to tell anna to tell my that he isnt really a bad guy and that please would i forgive him. pretty pathetic scene.
one of merryns friends came by the bar at that point to get her a water: "shes wasted." we all went outside and merryn was doing a dance though she was meant to be standing still. soon, we all left. the 4 roomates tooka cab home together and merry sat with her head out the window. i may have professed some sort of liking to watch people vomit, but i was joking. it was fun to be in the taxi with my roomates who i like. the chemical warfare had put a damper on the night for me, and im not sure of the effects it had on me, but i slept until 1pm and missed both my spanish class and dentist appointment.
the next day the roomate who is the owner of the cats came by and lamented that the apartment was dirty, that she was seeing a psychologist, that the house needs her ex-boyfriend (guy who begged for forgiveness at pop) because he is such a good housekeeper, and that the cats dont remember her even though she is their owner. she was indignant.
later that night i asked my locker mate, ------, why she tried to sabotage my career. she was shocked, surprised, confused and apologetic all at once.
giving thanks and other things
yesterday was thanksgiving. happy thanksgiving!
the day before, we (anna, me, annas fam) went to cajas national park and took a nice walk around a lake 4100 meters up in the andes.
on the way there we took the bus going to guayaquil. that bus passes through cajas and we got off at the entrance. on the way back, we were to wait on the side of that same road for a bus to pass, flag it down, and then sit on it until it reached cuenca.
when we got to cajas, we noticed that a group of school kids were also using this day as a day to have a class trip. we saw which direction they were walking, heard them screaming and shrieking at whatever it is that teenagers find so important, and decided to take the hike in the other direction. we finished the hike at the same time and being a school trip, they had taken a school bus (really just a city bus rented out for the day). not wanting to go through the half-hitchiking scenario, we asked the teachers to let us ride back with them. they let us and we sat next to the teachers and talked to them during the trip home.
during that trip, the teacher asked me what thanksgiving was all about - how did it start, and why we still celebrate it. i told her. then, she said that her favorite singer was celine dion. i told her that thanksgiving is all about eating.
on thanksgiving day, i woke up and called my parents to wish them happy thanksgiving. then, met up with annas family and went over to the market to see what was going on there. i had thougt that thursday was the day where the medicine women came and beat their patients with medicinal flowers - thus curing them of everything from insomnia to cancer to boredom. it would have been nice to see. instead, they were not there, but while walking through the market we stopped at one of the roasted pig stands and andre and i had a good pig meal. the pig was fresh - a bit oversalted, but certainly fresh. i also found out that you can buy chunks of the market pig to bring home and have as the centerpiece for a meal at home. not bad.
we then walked around some more and shopped at various places and wound up eventually at a resturant. it was the zuckers final meal with us and anna wanted to do something thanksgivingy. there were no renowned turkey spots and there was a genreal consensus against eating cuy, so, we settled for eating at a typical ecuadorian food restaurant. by the way: one thing i realized while annas parents were here is that $.25 gets you a lot in cuenca. anna and i have been on travelers lunch budget, not wanting to spend more than $1.25 on any occasion - perhaps $1.50 if a dessert is inclluded. but, it turns out that if you pay $1.50 and sometimes $1.75, you get far more and better food. such was the case with our thanksgiving meal. yes, the meal came with rice - but - there were (for me) two good strips of chicken breast, mote-pillo (which is basically the regular mote, which is large white corn cournels without much flavor, cooked with egg and criollo spices), a salad(!), and llapingachos (which arepotatoes, mashed and then fried as little balls and topped with an organge sauce that is only orange but without flavor). the meal was good and really, just putting the egg in the mote made it a special occasion meal - atypical typical food.
all semester, the students of my teenage class have been asking me to take them to pizza hit (not to pay for them, but to spend class time there). ive been ardent about rejecting their offers if only to let them know that they cant tell me what to do. at one point i employed this tactic: i might take you there but if you keep asking me i wont. and they stopped. since then, the idea had stayed circulating in my mind and after a while i figured that i would take them not because they begged and i feel bad for them but because it would be one fewer day teaching if i did so. it would be fun and i like pizza. i told them that i would take them on thanksgiving day. i did so partly because it was thanksgiving and i wanted to do somethign special, and partly because i had been having fun with annas family during the week and had neglected to plan anything. it worked out great. we (me and four students) ordered two pizzas. both with pepperoni and one with a cheese filled crust. during the meal, one of my students mentioned to me that ehtere was a place in the center of town that served monkey steaks.
on the way back to my house i picked up 4 turkey sandwiches. anna took the day off of work and was sleeping a lot. usually sophia is home. i picked up 4 so that if she was and anna and i were to share with her, that we would still have enough to eat for ourselves. there is a place near my cedei location called pavo and pernil. accordingly, they serve turkey and pork sandwiches. they are pretty good. when i got home, i woke anna up and eventually we sat down to eat our sandwiches, with sophia, along with a can of cranberry sauce that was sent down by my parents. this was thanksgiving. i ate a lot, like usual.
by the way, we will have a new president tonight...
the day before, we (anna, me, annas fam) went to cajas national park and took a nice walk around a lake 4100 meters up in the andes.
on the way there we took the bus going to guayaquil. that bus passes through cajas and we got off at the entrance. on the way back, we were to wait on the side of that same road for a bus to pass, flag it down, and then sit on it until it reached cuenca.
when we got to cajas, we noticed that a group of school kids were also using this day as a day to have a class trip. we saw which direction they were walking, heard them screaming and shrieking at whatever it is that teenagers find so important, and decided to take the hike in the other direction. we finished the hike at the same time and being a school trip, they had taken a school bus (really just a city bus rented out for the day). not wanting to go through the half-hitchiking scenario, we asked the teachers to let us ride back with them. they let us and we sat next to the teachers and talked to them during the trip home.
during that trip, the teacher asked me what thanksgiving was all about - how did it start, and why we still celebrate it. i told her. then, she said that her favorite singer was celine dion. i told her that thanksgiving is all about eating.
on thanksgiving day, i woke up and called my parents to wish them happy thanksgiving. then, met up with annas family and went over to the market to see what was going on there. i had thougt that thursday was the day where the medicine women came and beat their patients with medicinal flowers - thus curing them of everything from insomnia to cancer to boredom. it would have been nice to see. instead, they were not there, but while walking through the market we stopped at one of the roasted pig stands and andre and i had a good pig meal. the pig was fresh - a bit oversalted, but certainly fresh. i also found out that you can buy chunks of the market pig to bring home and have as the centerpiece for a meal at home. not bad.
we then walked around some more and shopped at various places and wound up eventually at a resturant. it was the zuckers final meal with us and anna wanted to do something thanksgivingy. there were no renowned turkey spots and there was a genreal consensus against eating cuy, so, we settled for eating at a typical ecuadorian food restaurant. by the way: one thing i realized while annas parents were here is that $.25 gets you a lot in cuenca. anna and i have been on travelers lunch budget, not wanting to spend more than $1.25 on any occasion - perhaps $1.50 if a dessert is inclluded. but, it turns out that if you pay $1.50 and sometimes $1.75, you get far more and better food. such was the case with our thanksgiving meal. yes, the meal came with rice - but - there were (for me) two good strips of chicken breast, mote-pillo (which is basically the regular mote, which is large white corn cournels without much flavor, cooked with egg and criollo spices), a salad(!), and llapingachos (which arepotatoes, mashed and then fried as little balls and topped with an organge sauce that is only orange but without flavor). the meal was good and really, just putting the egg in the mote made it a special occasion meal - atypical typical food.
all semester, the students of my teenage class have been asking me to take them to pizza hit (not to pay for them, but to spend class time there). ive been ardent about rejecting their offers if only to let them know that they cant tell me what to do. at one point i employed this tactic: i might take you there but if you keep asking me i wont. and they stopped. since then, the idea had stayed circulating in my mind and after a while i figured that i would take them not because they begged and i feel bad for them but because it would be one fewer day teaching if i did so. it would be fun and i like pizza. i told them that i would take them on thanksgiving day. i did so partly because it was thanksgiving and i wanted to do somethign special, and partly because i had been having fun with annas family during the week and had neglected to plan anything. it worked out great. we (me and four students) ordered two pizzas. both with pepperoni and one with a cheese filled crust. during the meal, one of my students mentioned to me that ehtere was a place in the center of town that served monkey steaks.
on the way back to my house i picked up 4 turkey sandwiches. anna took the day off of work and was sleeping a lot. usually sophia is home. i picked up 4 so that if she was and anna and i were to share with her, that we would still have enough to eat for ourselves. there is a place near my cedei location called pavo and pernil. accordingly, they serve turkey and pork sandwiches. they are pretty good. when i got home, i woke anna up and eventually we sat down to eat our sandwiches, with sophia, along with a can of cranberry sauce that was sent down by my parents. this was thanksgiving. i ate a lot, like usual.
by the way, we will have a new president tonight...
Friday, November 17, 2006
learning spanish bit by bit
learning spanish has become the thing we say whenever asked why we are here, or, whenever any justification, whether to self or to others, is necessary. like:
"working sucks"
"yeah. working sucks anywhere. dont worry its a means to an end."
"oh?"
"yeah, we are supporting oursleves so that we can live in a foreign country and learn spanish while doing so."
"right."
so, along with the free spanish lessons provided by cedei, anna and i are also taking private lessons for a nominal fee. we go to talk to as many people as we can. but note what happens in a conversation with one of my female friends:
ff: "i couldnt stay in cuenca for a year."
me: "me either."
"but i thought i could."
"oh?"
"yeah, but its been really hard to make friends."
"really? you seem to be doing fine."
"i mean, i meet slimy guys, but nothing like the chilling with people i do at home."
"yeah. at least you can talk spanish to them."
"it is much easier if you are female."
"it seems. or if you are single."
"well..."
"or doing your thing anyway."
and so anna and i are reliant on the spanish lessons for the time being until we acclimate to the social scene of cuenca. dont get me wrong - we speak plenty of spanish and have met plenty of people. im just not fluent yet and its a frustrating process.
so, i voiced this opinion to my free spanish teacher the other day, and she, good teacher she is, decided to gather up a group of her friends and bring them into our class - free of charge - to talk to us and have us talk to them.
so, to set it off, the girl whose spanish is worse than everyone elses: "what do you think of tourists?"
me, in thought: kind of self centered, but ok.
friends of teachers: its nice to have you in the country.
girl: what do you think of racism i ncuenca?
me in thought: oh come on. be nice...
fot: we are all equal in cuenca
me in thought: ok, not so, but what can we expect...
other guy, american: do any of you speak quichua?
me in thought: cmon people, lay off.
fot: (heads shaking)
og,a: but it is the language of your ancestors. you should be proud to speak it.
me: you know, we have indigenous people in our country and we dont speak their language.
og,a: yeah, but its different, these people are blood related to their indigenous.
fot: nobody learns quichua except for the rural people. our education has been in spanish.
og,a: but arent you proud of your heritage?
fot: (no reply)
me: but spanish has been the national language here for 300 years or so, right?
fot: right.
me in thought: i wonder if this guy speaks any ancestral language. this, i guess is why people dont like americans throughout the world. either we are innundating them with our military or our morality...
other girl in class: why do cuencanos like american girls so much?
me in thought: now that puts them in an uncomfortable position.
so in the end, things calmed down and everyone became friends.
english has this massive vocabulary, but not too many verb tenses. so, we are naturally wordy and artful and good lawyers, whereas spanish, who has a million verb tenses, is naturally expressive, i guess. still, i wonder why it is culturally acceptable for a man to come to the window of a woman at 3am, drunk, with 6 of his friends, and to serenade her. people here think its romantic. i think the sense of romance here is directly related to the language. emotional expression is built in to it, while for english speaking people, rationality is. i dont know.
"working sucks"
"yeah. working sucks anywhere. dont worry its a means to an end."
"oh?"
"yeah, we are supporting oursleves so that we can live in a foreign country and learn spanish while doing so."
"right."
so, along with the free spanish lessons provided by cedei, anna and i are also taking private lessons for a nominal fee. we go to talk to as many people as we can. but note what happens in a conversation with one of my female friends:
ff: "i couldnt stay in cuenca for a year."
me: "me either."
"but i thought i could."
"oh?"
"yeah, but its been really hard to make friends."
"really? you seem to be doing fine."
"i mean, i meet slimy guys, but nothing like the chilling with people i do at home."
"yeah. at least you can talk spanish to them."
"it is much easier if you are female."
"it seems. or if you are single."
"well..."
"or doing your thing anyway."
and so anna and i are reliant on the spanish lessons for the time being until we acclimate to the social scene of cuenca. dont get me wrong - we speak plenty of spanish and have met plenty of people. im just not fluent yet and its a frustrating process.
so, i voiced this opinion to my free spanish teacher the other day, and she, good teacher she is, decided to gather up a group of her friends and bring them into our class - free of charge - to talk to us and have us talk to them.
so, to set it off, the girl whose spanish is worse than everyone elses: "what do you think of tourists?"
me, in thought: kind of self centered, but ok.
friends of teachers: its nice to have you in the country.
girl: what do you think of racism i ncuenca?
me in thought: oh come on. be nice...
fot: we are all equal in cuenca
me in thought: ok, not so, but what can we expect...
other guy, american: do any of you speak quichua?
me in thought: cmon people, lay off.
fot: (heads shaking)
og,a: but it is the language of your ancestors. you should be proud to speak it.
me: you know, we have indigenous people in our country and we dont speak their language.
og,a: yeah, but its different, these people are blood related to their indigenous.
fot: nobody learns quichua except for the rural people. our education has been in spanish.
og,a: but arent you proud of your heritage?
fot: (no reply)
me: but spanish has been the national language here for 300 years or so, right?
fot: right.
me in thought: i wonder if this guy speaks any ancestral language. this, i guess is why people dont like americans throughout the world. either we are innundating them with our military or our morality...
other girl in class: why do cuencanos like american girls so much?
me in thought: now that puts them in an uncomfortable position.
so in the end, things calmed down and everyone became friends.
english has this massive vocabulary, but not too many verb tenses. so, we are naturally wordy and artful and good lawyers, whereas spanish, who has a million verb tenses, is naturally expressive, i guess. still, i wonder why it is culturally acceptable for a man to come to the window of a woman at 3am, drunk, with 6 of his friends, and to serenade her. people here think its romantic. i think the sense of romance here is directly related to the language. emotional expression is built in to it, while for english speaking people, rationality is. i dont know.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
brief road trip
one of the bad parts of having lesbian friends is that even when you are at their house and a huge, hairy spider chooses that time to reveal itself, you, as the man, are still responsible for getting rid of it. which i did, valiantly, with a cup and a book. i brought it outside and released it into the yard, still alive. it was killed later by the landlord. it was said that these types of spiders always hang out in twos, so that another one would rear its wicked head soon.
then, me, anna, merryn and sophia (two of our roomates) took a road trip this weekend. we were going to leave at 1130pm to get to guayaquil by 330 in order to take the 5am bus to montañita that we knew existed. but, upon overhearing our conversation about our trip, one of our colleagues who has been in cuenca for 5 years decided to add his two cents. he suggested that, because beyond the shadow of a doubt there is a bus leaving cuenca for guayaquil at 1230, we should take that because then we wouldnt have to wait around as long for the coveted 5 oclock bus. we took his word for it because he said, "beyond the shadow of a doubt" and he has been in cuenca for 5 years and must have something to show for it. so, we all got to the bus station at around 11 to be early and low and behold, there was no 1230 bus. there was a 130 bus and we made the most of it and played hearts for a while, but there went our chance to catch the 5am direct bus to montañita. its a shame when people have to be the person who knows things - and then they are wrong...
it occured to me once we got on the bus that we hadnt taken an overnight bus in quite some time. we have been pretty much entrenched in our cuencan lives. this is good. it has occured to me some time ago that it is far more useful to be in a place so as to get to know a few things rather than to just travel around and get impressions of any things. so many times, while traveling, ive left a place thinking, for example, that the weather is bad there when really they were just having a bad week. then, other things started happening to remind me that it has been a while since my last overnight bus trip. thoughts and feelings started reemerging. there was the cockroach crawling over the seats across the aisle. there were the crying babies begging their parents for coca-cola. there was the rhythmic thump of the many closing windows as soon as the bus started moving. of course, i opened mine wider. the person in back of us then had the predictable audacity to close our window. i opened it back and shot a mean look. then, soon, the person across the aisle, who had not been bothered by the roach on his seat and who had hoped to calm his baby down by feeding it coke, leaned over and requested that i close the window. i shook my finger at him, "we need air, right?" -- "not that much though." i laughed and sat back in my seat. he cuddled with his woman for warmth.
when we got into guayaquil, it really occured to me how long i had been in cuenca (yes, i know its only been a bit over a month). the city pace was mesmerizing to me. the women were dressed with less clothing, and the men were not too shy to knock into you if you were in their way, or slowing them down. the humidity was very uncomfortable. i immidiately began longing for the fresh mountain air that i complain about while im in cuenca. fortunately, busses leave for montañita every half hour or so, its just that most of them arent direct. since we missed the 5am direct bus by an hour, the next one would have been at 1pm. anna worked out the bus tickets while sporting a cockroach broach. but we got on an indirect bus instead.
meanwhile, last week sometime, my elbow began bothering me and when i looked, i saw that there was a bump forming. it could have been a bug bite. it could have been an ingrown hair. i dont have hair on my elbow, though. later that day, it got a white head, so, i popped it and chalked it up as a strangely placed pimple. the pain, however, did not go away, and by thursday, my elbow was swollen and oozing a blood/puss mixture at random moments. that night, i began squeezing as much puss and blood out as possibe and in my mind, i wondered if i should actually stay in cuenca and go to the doctor. swollen elbows are not good. before we got on the bus, i put on a band-aid, finally, and by the morning it was soaked through.
on the first bus from guayaquil, everything went fine. i got a seat in the front and after passing through the outskirts of guayaquil, which took about an hour, as there are shacks and shantytowns with unpaved streets and garbage pouring down the sides of hills into those streets - people walking barefoot and gated comunities of pastel colored houses right beside, i fell asleep. woke up in the town where the bus was to connect to the other bus and banged my elbow on the door on the way out. i noticed now that my elbow had swelled considerably and surmied that perhaps the infection had traveled to other parts of my arm. i wondered how long it would take for the infection to get to my bone, requiring my arm to be cut off. it seemed weird to become disfigured by a pimple - or was it a spider bite? i had just woken up though and when i did fully, i noticed that in this town, santa elena, they were preparing, at various stalls on the sidewalks, plantain balls stuffed with meat. it was something i had been looking for, yet i didnt want one at 8 in the morning. i was happy, though, that i may be able to find one later.
the second bus was supposed to be the shorter ride. in the end, it was - timewise - but in reality it took much longer than the first. the road we took was littered with speed bumps, so we drove 2 miles per hour and frequently rose and fell like a wave. there were more views of starving dogs on teh side of the road than there were ocean views. one man came on the bus and gave a 10 minute speech, introducing his wonder-vitamin to the crowd. this vitamin cured many illnesses but did nothing for infections slowly eating away the meat of your arm. everybody on the bus bought a bottle. oe thing about ecuador - really every latin american country ive traveled to: if someone comes on the bus selling something - whatever it is - 80% of people will buy it. its a good tip for anyone looking to make a buk or two. one family sitting close to us, by the time we got off, had vitamins, gum, three empanadas and two bags of plantain chips. at one point a family got on the bus and one woman requested to sit in the seat next to me. i was sitting aisle-side. i got up to let her in, and while i was up, her grandmother slipped in front of me and took the seat i was sitting in. i still have not mastered angry spanish, so there was no way to really express my indignation. i could not push her because she was old. she laughed a lot and i didnt.
when we got to montañita, i noticed that the ceviche carts that i wanted to see were not there. also, the hotel we had stayed in last time, which we led our roomates to, was under construction. the sign was up, but the hotel was not there. there were concrete blocks, but the hotel itself was hollowed out. we went to another hotel - slightly more expensive, but with hammocks.
the first day was spent sleeping, and when we woke up, anna and i went to go swim. there was not even the threat of sunshine and the wind was whipping a bit during these hours. anna chose not to go in, but was nice about coming anyway. the third part of my body to touch the water after my ankles and knees was my elbow. i had faith in the powers of salt water and while i was in the water, i squeezed visciously at my elbow trying to fill the sea with puss. in order to get farther than waist deep into the water, you needed to walk out about 500 feet into the ocean and nobody else was doing so except surfers. i got out and dried off ,went home and showered and re-dressed my cut. my arm was swollen and tender to the touch. sans street-ceviche, we all went out to eat dinner at a restaurant, where i ordered ceviche. i knew well that it wasnt quite the same as what is to be found at the street-carts, but for merryn and sophia, it was their first ceviche and aside from the octopus, they liked it a lot so i wasnt too persistant about my complaints that there was no street-cart ceviche. it was something that i kept to myself for the most part. we played hearts and waited for an appropriate time to go check out the fruity drink guy. the same guy from july was there making drinks, although he had changed his name and did not have maracuyá this time. he wore sunglasses and danced while we drank. he did have mango. i started the night off with a mango/rum drink. ended it with a taco from the taco stand. in between, we danced at the sand-floored clubs with the bonfires on the dance floors.
the dogs in montañita are very well fed and very well groomed. their coats are shiny and they are friendly. one amily of droopy eared dogs came and begged somethign of us. aside from some lack of hair on one of their asses, these dogs were very handsome. the cats seemed all to be of the same family. all seemed some sort of siamese mixture. one albino version of these cats came with us to eat dinner the night at the restaurant. she was clean, but we didnt want her to touch us or jump on us. another grey version of this cat came to me while i ate ceviche and meowed quite desperately. i gave her a piece of fish and it did not satisfy her.
the next morning, the ceviche guys were there. it turns out they are only there on the weekend days. i ate an oyster ceviche for breakfast and talked to the vendor who explained that the rest of the week was spent searching the sea for oysters. he dives down to 40 feet without a tank, looing for oysters and has a secret stash in a part of the ocean that only he knows about. i thanked him for all his hard work.
to wash down the breakfast fish, i had an avocado milkshake.
that day i took a huge nap and my elbow swelled so that the bone no longer protruded even when i bent my elbow. people in the mountains call people from the coast monkeys. i asked my class why this was and they said they didnt know, its just what they are called. the first time i heard this, i immidiately disliked the person who said it. since, i have grown to understand that since there is not the same history as what we have in the u.s., there is probably not the same connotation for calling people monkeys. lonely planet says its because the people from the mountains think the coastal people are lazy. i slept 3 hours that day but did manage to go swimming with the other three. we went out further and rode waves back in.
that night, the fruity drink guy was not there, he had a wedding to go to. so, we went to another guy, but it started raining before long and even though he overloaded his fruity drinks with evaporated milk, he was good and it was unfortunate that we had to seek cover so early. he was called "the poet", though he recited no poetry. that night i realized that my raincoat is actually a windbreaker. then i realized that when i bought the jacket, the guy told me that it wasnt really that good for rain and my rational was that if it was raining so hard, i wouldnt be outside anyway. i like the jacket. there were flashing lights down the beach a little and insead of going home, we walked towards these lights. as it turns out, they were coming from charos
the next morning, it occured to me that i hadnt showered in quite some time and that the hot water from the shower would have actually been good for my infection. i went out to get my final oyster ceviche and though about it. when i came back to the room, i looked at my cut and the puss was coming out on its own. i squeezed a little bit and it flew out. it turns out there were two infections, and i figured that if one came out, the other would as well. it did! and they left behind to holes. to voids to be filled with new skin, and meat.
we left at 1pm and i left happy that i got to try the best ceviche in south america once again. the water was good and the fruity drinks were tasty. i wonder what kind of scar my elbow voids will leave...
in cat news:
i now live iwith 5 women. at first, there were 3 guys (including me) and 4 women. since then, ne guy moved out because his room was not private enough. a girl moved in - this girl being a friend from home of another girl who already lived here, who is in ecuador for a bit of time. another guy got broken up with and had to leave.
there has been talk among some of the women of the house of detesticling the male cat due to the inevitable and approaching incestuous situation brewing. ironically, these thoughts are not being thought by the proper owner of the cats (who might, in fact, not think: ie. me, anna, merryn in the kitchen one day. owner of cats comes in crying: "my dog in new york died." normally a sad situation worthy of sympathy at the very least. merry moves over to hug the berieved. over the shuolder of the berieved, merryn makes a face of, "huh?" -- "i left him with y friends and he died of a broken heart. he missed me so much." knowing how inept of a pet owner she is, i turned blue not laughing. also, she failed to consider that perhaps her friends starved her dog, or, let it out into the streets and got it run over... predictably, not another word about the dog ever uttered), but rather by the still large contingency of resident women. according to them, male cats are terrors when with testicles. women cats dont like sex anyway, and when women cats have babies too young, they suffer a severe form of post-partem depression that sticks with them their whole lives. plus, there are complaints as to the possible post-toxic-like appearance of their offspring.
despit whatever of their claims may be true, i have taken it upon myself to be the lone crusader for that continued attachment of the only other pair of testicles residing in 9-52 arízaga. it is my duty. in doing so, i have decided to keep the male cat close to me. i am teachign him the finer points of self defense (sticking my finger in either his face or his belly until he swipes at it) and although i dont openly endorse it to the cats, i do not disapprove of teh feeding system theyve worked out where the male cat gets the lions share.
aside from these outlets, as well as my continued, vigilant, and persistant verbal sparring with my snip-happy compañeras (who have been known to hold the male cat back until the female cat has eaten her share), i call upon you, dear reader, to join in the crusade: to keep our pets full and natural and to allow me another male roomate.
then, me, anna, merryn and sophia (two of our roomates) took a road trip this weekend. we were going to leave at 1130pm to get to guayaquil by 330 in order to take the 5am bus to montañita that we knew existed. but, upon overhearing our conversation about our trip, one of our colleagues who has been in cuenca for 5 years decided to add his two cents. he suggested that, because beyond the shadow of a doubt there is a bus leaving cuenca for guayaquil at 1230, we should take that because then we wouldnt have to wait around as long for the coveted 5 oclock bus. we took his word for it because he said, "beyond the shadow of a doubt" and he has been in cuenca for 5 years and must have something to show for it. so, we all got to the bus station at around 11 to be early and low and behold, there was no 1230 bus. there was a 130 bus and we made the most of it and played hearts for a while, but there went our chance to catch the 5am direct bus to montañita. its a shame when people have to be the person who knows things - and then they are wrong...
it occured to me once we got on the bus that we hadnt taken an overnight bus in quite some time. we have been pretty much entrenched in our cuencan lives. this is good. it has occured to me some time ago that it is far more useful to be in a place so as to get to know a few things rather than to just travel around and get impressions of any things. so many times, while traveling, ive left a place thinking, for example, that the weather is bad there when really they were just having a bad week. then, other things started happening to remind me that it has been a while since my last overnight bus trip. thoughts and feelings started reemerging. there was the cockroach crawling over the seats across the aisle. there were the crying babies begging their parents for coca-cola. there was the rhythmic thump of the many closing windows as soon as the bus started moving. of course, i opened mine wider. the person in back of us then had the predictable audacity to close our window. i opened it back and shot a mean look. then, soon, the person across the aisle, who had not been bothered by the roach on his seat and who had hoped to calm his baby down by feeding it coke, leaned over and requested that i close the window. i shook my finger at him, "we need air, right?" -- "not that much though." i laughed and sat back in my seat. he cuddled with his woman for warmth.
when we got into guayaquil, it really occured to me how long i had been in cuenca (yes, i know its only been a bit over a month). the city pace was mesmerizing to me. the women were dressed with less clothing, and the men were not too shy to knock into you if you were in their way, or slowing them down. the humidity was very uncomfortable. i immidiately began longing for the fresh mountain air that i complain about while im in cuenca. fortunately, busses leave for montañita every half hour or so, its just that most of them arent direct. since we missed the 5am direct bus by an hour, the next one would have been at 1pm. anna worked out the bus tickets while sporting a cockroach broach. but we got on an indirect bus instead.
meanwhile, last week sometime, my elbow began bothering me and when i looked, i saw that there was a bump forming. it could have been a bug bite. it could have been an ingrown hair. i dont have hair on my elbow, though. later that day, it got a white head, so, i popped it and chalked it up as a strangely placed pimple. the pain, however, did not go away, and by thursday, my elbow was swollen and oozing a blood/puss mixture at random moments. that night, i began squeezing as much puss and blood out as possibe and in my mind, i wondered if i should actually stay in cuenca and go to the doctor. swollen elbows are not good. before we got on the bus, i put on a band-aid, finally, and by the morning it was soaked through.
on the first bus from guayaquil, everything went fine. i got a seat in the front and after passing through the outskirts of guayaquil, which took about an hour, as there are shacks and shantytowns with unpaved streets and garbage pouring down the sides of hills into those streets - people walking barefoot and gated comunities of pastel colored houses right beside, i fell asleep. woke up in the town where the bus was to connect to the other bus and banged my elbow on the door on the way out. i noticed now that my elbow had swelled considerably and surmied that perhaps the infection had traveled to other parts of my arm. i wondered how long it would take for the infection to get to my bone, requiring my arm to be cut off. it seemed weird to become disfigured by a pimple - or was it a spider bite? i had just woken up though and when i did fully, i noticed that in this town, santa elena, they were preparing, at various stalls on the sidewalks, plantain balls stuffed with meat. it was something i had been looking for, yet i didnt want one at 8 in the morning. i was happy, though, that i may be able to find one later.
the second bus was supposed to be the shorter ride. in the end, it was - timewise - but in reality it took much longer than the first. the road we took was littered with speed bumps, so we drove 2 miles per hour and frequently rose and fell like a wave. there were more views of starving dogs on teh side of the road than there were ocean views. one man came on the bus and gave a 10 minute speech, introducing his wonder-vitamin to the crowd. this vitamin cured many illnesses but did nothing for infections slowly eating away the meat of your arm. everybody on the bus bought a bottle. oe thing about ecuador - really every latin american country ive traveled to: if someone comes on the bus selling something - whatever it is - 80% of people will buy it. its a good tip for anyone looking to make a buk or two. one family sitting close to us, by the time we got off, had vitamins, gum, three empanadas and two bags of plantain chips. at one point a family got on the bus and one woman requested to sit in the seat next to me. i was sitting aisle-side. i got up to let her in, and while i was up, her grandmother slipped in front of me and took the seat i was sitting in. i still have not mastered angry spanish, so there was no way to really express my indignation. i could not push her because she was old. she laughed a lot and i didnt.
when we got to montañita, i noticed that the ceviche carts that i wanted to see were not there. also, the hotel we had stayed in last time, which we led our roomates to, was under construction. the sign was up, but the hotel was not there. there were concrete blocks, but the hotel itself was hollowed out. we went to another hotel - slightly more expensive, but with hammocks.
the first day was spent sleeping, and when we woke up, anna and i went to go swim. there was not even the threat of sunshine and the wind was whipping a bit during these hours. anna chose not to go in, but was nice about coming anyway. the third part of my body to touch the water after my ankles and knees was my elbow. i had faith in the powers of salt water and while i was in the water, i squeezed visciously at my elbow trying to fill the sea with puss. in order to get farther than waist deep into the water, you needed to walk out about 500 feet into the ocean and nobody else was doing so except surfers. i got out and dried off ,went home and showered and re-dressed my cut. my arm was swollen and tender to the touch. sans street-ceviche, we all went out to eat dinner at a restaurant, where i ordered ceviche. i knew well that it wasnt quite the same as what is to be found at the street-carts, but for merryn and sophia, it was their first ceviche and aside from the octopus, they liked it a lot so i wasnt too persistant about my complaints that there was no street-cart ceviche. it was something that i kept to myself for the most part. we played hearts and waited for an appropriate time to go check out the fruity drink guy. the same guy from july was there making drinks, although he had changed his name and did not have maracuyá this time. he wore sunglasses and danced while we drank. he did have mango. i started the night off with a mango/rum drink. ended it with a taco from the taco stand. in between, we danced at the sand-floored clubs with the bonfires on the dance floors.
the dogs in montañita are very well fed and very well groomed. their coats are shiny and they are friendly. one amily of droopy eared dogs came and begged somethign of us. aside from some lack of hair on one of their asses, these dogs were very handsome. the cats seemed all to be of the same family. all seemed some sort of siamese mixture. one albino version of these cats came with us to eat dinner the night at the restaurant. she was clean, but we didnt want her to touch us or jump on us. another grey version of this cat came to me while i ate ceviche and meowed quite desperately. i gave her a piece of fish and it did not satisfy her.
the next morning, the ceviche guys were there. it turns out they are only there on the weekend days. i ate an oyster ceviche for breakfast and talked to the vendor who explained that the rest of the week was spent searching the sea for oysters. he dives down to 40 feet without a tank, looing for oysters and has a secret stash in a part of the ocean that only he knows about. i thanked him for all his hard work.
to wash down the breakfast fish, i had an avocado milkshake.
that day i took a huge nap and my elbow swelled so that the bone no longer protruded even when i bent my elbow. people in the mountains call people from the coast monkeys. i asked my class why this was and they said they didnt know, its just what they are called. the first time i heard this, i immidiately disliked the person who said it. since, i have grown to understand that since there is not the same history as what we have in the u.s., there is probably not the same connotation for calling people monkeys. lonely planet says its because the people from the mountains think the coastal people are lazy. i slept 3 hours that day but did manage to go swimming with the other three. we went out further and rode waves back in.
that night, the fruity drink guy was not there, he had a wedding to go to. so, we went to another guy, but it started raining before long and even though he overloaded his fruity drinks with evaporated milk, he was good and it was unfortunate that we had to seek cover so early. he was called "the poet", though he recited no poetry. that night i realized that my raincoat is actually a windbreaker. then i realized that when i bought the jacket, the guy told me that it wasnt really that good for rain and my rational was that if it was raining so hard, i wouldnt be outside anyway. i like the jacket. there were flashing lights down the beach a little and insead of going home, we walked towards these lights. as it turns out, they were coming from charos
the next morning, it occured to me that i hadnt showered in quite some time and that the hot water from the shower would have actually been good for my infection. i went out to get my final oyster ceviche and though about it. when i came back to the room, i looked at my cut and the puss was coming out on its own. i squeezed a little bit and it flew out. it turns out there were two infections, and i figured that if one came out, the other would as well. it did! and they left behind to holes. to voids to be filled with new skin, and meat.
we left at 1pm and i left happy that i got to try the best ceviche in south america once again. the water was good and the fruity drinks were tasty. i wonder what kind of scar my elbow voids will leave...
in cat news:
i now live iwith 5 women. at first, there were 3 guys (including me) and 4 women. since then, ne guy moved out because his room was not private enough. a girl moved in - this girl being a friend from home of another girl who already lived here, who is in ecuador for a bit of time. another guy got broken up with and had to leave.
there has been talk among some of the women of the house of detesticling the male cat due to the inevitable and approaching incestuous situation brewing. ironically, these thoughts are not being thought by the proper owner of the cats (who might, in fact, not think: ie. me, anna, merryn in the kitchen one day. owner of cats comes in crying: "my dog in new york died." normally a sad situation worthy of sympathy at the very least. merry moves over to hug the berieved. over the shuolder of the berieved, merryn makes a face of, "huh?" -- "i left him with y friends and he died of a broken heart. he missed me so much." knowing how inept of a pet owner she is, i turned blue not laughing. also, she failed to consider that perhaps her friends starved her dog, or, let it out into the streets and got it run over... predictably, not another word about the dog ever uttered), but rather by the still large contingency of resident women. according to them, male cats are terrors when with testicles. women cats dont like sex anyway, and when women cats have babies too young, they suffer a severe form of post-partem depression that sticks with them their whole lives. plus, there are complaints as to the possible post-toxic-like appearance of their offspring.
despit whatever of their claims may be true, i have taken it upon myself to be the lone crusader for that continued attachment of the only other pair of testicles residing in 9-52 arízaga. it is my duty. in doing so, i have decided to keep the male cat close to me. i am teachign him the finer points of self defense (sticking my finger in either his face or his belly until he swipes at it) and although i dont openly endorse it to the cats, i do not disapprove of teh feeding system theyve worked out where the male cat gets the lions share.
aside from these outlets, as well as my continued, vigilant, and persistant verbal sparring with my snip-happy compañeras (who have been known to hold the male cat back until the female cat has eaten her share), i call upon you, dear reader, to join in the crusade: to keep our pets full and natural and to allow me another male roomate.
Monday, November 06, 2006
photos with captions
in cat news, they are definitely getting bigger. it is easy to tell the boy from the girl now as the boy is developing and orange tint to his coat, his head is growing huge and wide, and when you play with him, he uses his nails and teeth. not so much as to hurt you, but enough to let you know that he would like to be hunting. poor cat. there are no mice here. the girl on the other hand remains sleek, just taller. we cant tell if she is skinnier because she is the girl, or because she is the girl, the boy slaps her around when she tries to eat, takes her food, and thats why she is skinny. nonetheless, she is calm and likes to 
play too, but doesnt use her nails.
the real tragedy of the whole cat situation is that now that they are getting older, they are coming to certain realizations about life and love and are beginning to show the inklings of needing to satisfy certain sexual desires they may have. sure, they are brother and sister, but i dont get they impression that cat culture is as hung up on these things as human culture is. so there was a disturbingly graphic display on the dining room table yesterday morning as the humans were enjoying their coffee. it will soon be time to take these cats to meet other cats, i think.
this is pondue. he belongs to the estate of our friends. well, it isnt their estate, but the fence you see here in the picture holds behind it about 4 or 5 residences, all owned by the same family. one such residents is rented out to our friends. once we got to know pondue, this is how he has greeted us at the fence each time we come. standing on his hind legs, allowing us to pet him as his tail wags. our friends told us that really he is viscious, but only to people he doesnt know. protective, i suppose. each time we our over our friends house and then leave, pondue wants to come but is held back so that he can stay inside the property. he whimpers a bit, but stays. he does get out sometimes, however, because he is sometimes lying on the ground outside the gate when we arrive. sometimes chasing cars down the street and barking at them for no reason...one night, recently, it was about 3 in the morning and anna and i were walking down the street to our house. it was dark and the streets were deserted, but anna and i were oblivious to any impending danger. then, from across the street and ahead of us a bit, a dog came charging at us. anna hid behind be and gasped. but i recognized the dog as pondue. he has a distinctive tail that shoots straight up in the air, for some reason. sure, it was strange to see pondue walking the streets, but it was nice. we petted him and he walked close to us up to our avenue, at which point he bolted diagonally across the street and began barking wildly at a group of about 4 or 5 other dogs who were gathered there perhaps hoping to attack us. pondue barked and then ran over to us and barked at us, but in a different way, as though to tell us to get to our door quickly. then, went back and staved off the slobbering pack.
two of the faces of anna. 
we made it to a rodeo this weekend. it was a pretty cool event. it was part of the cuenca holidays fo independence day. just last week at this time, i was worried that cuencans did not know how to celebrate to my liking. however, during this festival, all my worries were proven unfounded. the thing i have to remember about cuenca from now on is that the bulk of the cool stuf does not take place in the center. on the first day of the festival, anna and i walked to the main square with the big church, which in most small colonial cities in latin america means that it is the place where everything happens. not so here. however, when we got out of town a little bit, we found all the roasted guinea pigs and fried pig products that you could possibly want. there was a makeshift amusement park, musical performances, farm animals on display, and about 25000 people walking around. the culmination was a night of rodeo and mariachi music. and it turns out that here in ecuador, people like mariachi music. all of the songs seemed familiar and the whole stadium that fit about 10000 people (i didnt know this stadium existed) was dancing and singing and drinking cheap alcohol. it was fun. the music accompanied the rodeo and people rode pretty well, i think.
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