I Wrote Something

So it’s been three-and-half months since I wrote anything here. There are multiple reasons for this. First off, let’s call a spade a spade: I am lazy, and writing is work. Another reason would probably be that as much as I would love to document things, I am generally so busy being in the life thing that I just don’t think to step outside myself to create future nostalgia opportunities. Before I was an exchange student I read some blogs to get a sense of what it might be like. I noticed a general trend of posts becoming less frequent and then stopping, so I’m not surprised I did the same. A lot of them said that things just started to feel normal, that things became like part of normal life. I think that’s what’s intended with a high-school level exchange. That you immerse and assimilate, grow into this new life.

That’s sort of what’s happened to me except not at all. Rather than start feeling like my life here is my normal life, my entire concept of normality has disappeared. Maybe that sounds like some really great non-conformist sentiment, but this feeling is a whole lot bigger than that. I’d say it’s sort of like the moment you realize you’re no longer a child. But when you have this moment, it’s not like you’ve crossed over a thin line and suddenly you’re a fully realized adult. Far from it. You’re just in nowhere-land.

I am in nowhere-land. This is not my normal life. I’m not telling lies here—I have not assimilated to Ecuadorian culture. I have adjusted; I get along just fine. But I do not belong here, and to pretend that I do would have to mean acting like someone I’m just not, and I will never be comfortable with that. But that’s not to say I haven’t changed. Oh yes, I have changed. And the thing is that I’ve passed some point-of-no-return where there is no going home. I would say that about three months ago I could have gone home and it would have been different; there would have been a lot of little surface things: I would have been more aware of this, that would have bothered me when it didn’t before. But somewhere between then and now, the entire world shifted under my feet and I woke up in an entire new reality. I say that I’ve changed, but maybe I really haven’t, maybe people never really change, maybe just our perspectives change. And when your perspective changes, your entire universe is one that resembles your familiar before, but is inherently different in a way that defies description.

My life here didn’t become normal; it became real. It’s part of a new reality that I have to navigate. One where I no longer get the comfort of unquestioned beliefs. There is no default. Home feels like such a distant place; the only America I can feel connected to is the one I remember through child’s eyes, the one I will always cherish. The person I suddenly am isn’t part of there, isn’t part of here, isn’t part of anywhere. Everything is so big and so small all in the same moment. Even surrounded by people I love, I’ve never felt so alone. I’ve never felt so confidently alone. It’s a strange sense of being completely lost and yet absolutely certain that you will arrive.

That’s another reason I haven’t written here—everything happening in my head is so far beyond me that I don’t even know how to begin. I am (as I suppose I always have been) living two lives, the one outside my head and the one inside. A lot of things have happened in the outside life that I could have written about here no problem: factual descriptions of trips, holidays, cultural differences, etc. I could have written it all and trimmed the edges with emotion and humor and it would have been fine. But then there’s this whole other inner life where things have just been beyond words. And the two worlds mesh and affect each other and it’s so exhausting to flesh it all out, and even when I do, do I really want to share it? For what? To inform people back home? What’s home? This is my life and things happen that are important to me and now that everything has become so real, it’s kind of private. I just can’t see this exchange as like this year apart from everything where I’m like, “Wow! Ecuador! Look at that!” Now it’s part of this weird life that becomes who I am.

Does any of this make sense to anyone reading it? I have no idea.

I’m going home in a little less than eight weeks. Some days that seems like nothing, some days it still seems like quite a while. How do I feel about going home? Great question. First off, there is no home. The life I had built for myself has essentially dissolved. Everyone has moved away, high school is over. I find it eerie how a little world so tightly woven as high school just dissipates so quickly. Like it was never really there at all. It seemed so real then—what does it say about our present? If you’re wondering, I’m doing a year at Meramec and then transferring to somewhere. Don’t ask me where I’m looking to transfer; I don’t have an answer for you. I think I’ll be arriving come June in a place that resembles one I used to know but isn’t. I can’t see it as going back; there is no going back. It’s part of this whole future that’s even shakier than my present.

Like I said, I’m nowhere. But I’m not lost. I always know where I’m going, I’m just never aware.

Reflections from the Midpoint

Today was the five-month mark of my ten-month stay. I have a lot of contradictory thoughts and feelings about this day. I can remember trying to imagine it, back when it seemed an eternity away. It's weird to actually be here. I wouldn't say time has gone by fast; I don't think time ever really goes by fast. It's just that we look at points in the future as being so distant that we can hardly imagine getting there. And then time doesn't fly by, but it just...passes, when we never really expected it to.

I've thought a lot about time since I've been here. I've thought a lot about a lot of things. And how I want to approach time. And how I want to approach life. With the time thing, there's this sentiment that we should "seize every moment," and that's especially popular with the whole exchange program thing. I think that's sort of unrealistic. It's like in every moment you should be feeling in that moment that you are living life to the fullest; it makes me think of stock photos of laughing people and the sort of pictures you might find on tumblr. I've found here that the best approach is not for me to try to "seize" every moment, because then there's an expectation placed on everything, and then there's the possibility for unnecessary and unwarranted disappointment. I just try to experience every moment. That includes moments where I just sort of want to fall in a hole or return to the womb or something, because those moments do happen occasionally. And when I'm sitting in those little moments of eternity, I don't try to get away from it. I just try to live in it. Eat up the misery, maybe I can use it for some good later.

Ecuador is a weird country for me. Let me clarify: it is not bad, I am not having a bad time (far from it). How I ended up in Ecuador is I randomly choose it for a third choice country and then I was offered a scholarship. So, I found myself thrilled about free money and destined for a country I selected after browsing google image search results for 30 seconds. I'm adventurous! I did some research, and my host thoughts were, "Oh, shit. Well, here we go." Looking back, that was a pretty accurate thought to have.

You see, Ecuador is a Latino country. Latino culture and Ecuador is sort of the opposite of who I am as a person. I would not change this fact for the world. Really, I wouldn't. I'm glad I get to spend a year here. I am anxious. Ecuadorians are laid back. While I love the people I love very much, I have trouble imagining someone describing me as "warm." Ecuadorians touch each other at all available moments and put damn near half the words they say in a diminutive form to make them more "loving." I analyze everything alway at every moment and I can lay awake for hours before my mind is exhausted enough to sleep. Ecuadorians, not so much. These people do not like to read books. These people are loud. These people think Grown Ups 2 is a good movie. I do not belong here.

This isn't a classic cliche story of "Wow, but we're all really the same on the inside!" As much as I have learned how little our differences matter, I have learned how much they cannot be denied. And I have learned which parts of myself I will change to assimilate, and which parts really are who I am. It's a struggle for me to be here sometimes, feeling like no one understands me, so alone. It's almost tempting to get superior about it, like I know some grand secrets that no one around me knows. But I once got some obvious, but sometimes-difficult-to-follow advice: if everything seems wrong, you're what's wrong. And as much as they all don't understand me, I'm not understanding them. Because it's hard to understand. It always takes more effort to diverge from your default path. But it's my job here. I am learning a lot.

As for the language, I'm not really sure what to tell you about that. Everyone wants to know about the f-word: am I fluent yet? Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I am, sometimes I feel like I'm not. It's not at all tiring to speak Spanish anymore. I don't translate in my head. If someone speaks English that's not that great, I'd really prefer to speak Spanish with them. I understand essentially everything that's said, but occasionally people bring in words I haven't heard before. I can think in it. I dream in it. I write my diary in Spanish. I'm rereading Mockingjay in Spanish (Sinsajo) and while there are plenty of new words, I infer some, look up some, and overall can read it at a normal and comfortable pace. Schoolwork poses minimal challenge in the language department. I can go an entire day and not misunderstand anything. I can talk fast if I'm not nervous. I can watch most tv shows and the news without any problem, but if I try to watch a critically-acclaimed movie with smart dialogue, it can get tough. I'm impatient with the language, which in a way is good because I constantly want to be better at it. I don't know if I'm "fluent." There isn't really an officially fluency point where an angel visits you in a dream or something. I'd say my level is medium-high.

I've been really blessed to have some amazing people here. I LOVE my host family. So much. Family time is very important in Ecuadorian culture and I love being with them, so that works out quite nicely. They are loving and caring and incredibly understanding and I got really lucky there. I've made some truly good friends at school. At the beginning of an exchange, I think it's sort of like you make allies more than friends. But I'm past that and really love and care about some of my classmates. And we talk and laugh and I enjoy their company. I have friends from my art class who share a lot of my interests (art, obviously), and we can have long philosophical discussions where my pencil doesn't touch the paper my entire two-hour class. There are some really amazing people in my exchange group too, and they're sort of a blessing I never expected and just being with them makes me feel less alone and reminds me that I'm part of an incredible and rare experience.

It's made me appreciate what I've always had. My home, my family, my friends. The good education I received. The world of opportunities I can take advantage of in the future. I feel glad to be alive, even when I'm unhappy. I feel lucky. Very lucky.

Essentially all words could apply in some capacity to the experience I've had here. As they say, "Exchange is not a year in life, but life in a year." I've changed and I imagine I'll change a lot more by June. I'm excited to live every up and down of the next five months. Whatever happens, it will be fine. This whole thing has made me believe in fate. Not that I necessarily think fate is a real thing, but I do think I'm at my best believing it will all work out and living without fear. Best off just...living.

December (and the Beginning of January) in Review

How can it be that I haven't written here since November? November feels so far away. Here I have long days and short weeks. So here's a brief review of a very busy month and a promise to at least try to write a little more. Also no pictures because I just don't have the patience to upload them right now.

• My sister had two ballet practices. It was fun to see here with her makeup and costumes. At one performance she got to wear a really pretty white tutu, at the other she was dressed as a fork (Beauty and the Beast). The Beauty and the Beast show was really cute. It was based off of the movie and they used the movie music. I actually really genuinely enjoy watching ballet and the girl who played Belle was very talented.
• Both of my siblings had Christmas performances at their school. These included songs in English which I enjoyed more than anyone ever should. Ricky had to dress as an elf and a major sulking session ensued, but he came around when all of his friends looked ridiculous too.
• I got to go to Cuenca for a weekend. Cuenca is a city about 6 hours south of here. A girl from my exchange program invited a group of us to come visit and stay with her. The city is really beautiful and much more modern-feeling than the rest of the country. We had a great time.
• I baked an apple pie from scratch with no measuring and used an oven that doesn't work properly. It was for our YFU Christmas party and somehow it came out great, a true Christmas miracle.
• Virghy turned nine on the 19th. We had a dinner and cake with some of her friends. I gave her some money and a keychain with a picture of St. Louis.
• We had a big cookie-baking day. I love Christmas cookies and they don't make them here. Virghy was a big fan of the idea and helped me the entire day. We watched the Grinch twice. That night all five of us got together to decorate the cookies. Everyone kept saying that there were so many, but they were all gone three days later.
• Christmas here is a much more religious event than in the U.S. Essentially everyone is Catholic and I'm in Catholic school, so there was a lot of nativity scenes and kids reenacting the birth of Christ. Children here do not believe in Santa.
• Christmas eve we went to my uncle's house with all of my dad's brother's and their children. We had some extremely heated games of Uno (Virghy had gotten the cards for her birthday). There was an exchange of presents between the uncles and cousins. My uncle gave me a teddy bear, which I thought was really cute. We decided to name it after his crazy dog, Nena. Everyone stays up until midnight and hugs. 
• Christmas morning we opened presents. My parents had asked me what I wanted and I said a reading lamp (still a nerd). For the record, I love my reading lamp. My grandmas gave me a really pretty bracelet with silver hearts and tiny silver keys. For my gifts I did a portrait of each of the kids. I gave Ricky some movies and Virghy a Calico Critter set I had had my family send me. My grandmother had also sent along gifts for them, a bank and baseball for Ricky, and for Virghy a Rainbow Loom, which makes bracelets out of rubber bands. All the gifts went over quite well and I spent a good part of the day with Virghy on Youtube looking up different patterns to use with the loom. I got to skype with my family back home while the opened presents and I opened some presents that they had sent me. It was really nice.
• New years eve is a huge deal here and one thing I will miss next year. The tradition is to build a sort of effigy that you burn at midnight. We spent three days making Mike Wazowski from Monster's Inc. out of chicken wire and foam. On New Year's Eve day we put it out in front of our house and stopped cars for money, another tradition. I got to wear a pink wig and collected seven dollar's worth of nickels. That night, young men dress up as women and dance in the street, the cars give them money. The whole city is a party and we walked all over the streets just to see all that was going on. At midnight we burned Mike. Fireworks are legal, even the big ones. At midnight the entire sky was lit up. I didn't know where to look and everyone was laughing at how excited and amazed I was. Everyone hugs each other and wishes a happy new year.
• We went back to school and that was a bit rough after vacation, but I like my classmates so it's alright. A lot of other small things have been happening. I feel like I'm always busy. A few days ago the other American student, Sarah, finished her semester and went home. It's weird to think that she's back and this year is very nearly half over. I should write a more reflective post about that soon, but no promises. A week from today I am leaving for a tour of the coast with the YFU group. I am so excited!

Sickness and Soul Searching

I got back from the jungle trip on Monday morning, and immediately after I arrived home, the moment I had dreaded and feared was finally upon me: I got food poisoning. Well, either food or river water. I won't go into too many details, but I was pretty sick. I got a house call from the doctor and wasn't back at school until Thursday.

But the entire time I was laying in a bed feeling as though my intestines were trying to claw out from my body, I never really felt sad. The last time I was sick, the lonely bedrest made me seriously homesick. I wanted to be back in my bed in America. But this time I just wanted to get better and get back to school and my friends and being with everyone.

I'm not sure if it happened on the trip or before, but by the time I was back in Ambato I had realized that something was different. My life and who I am has radically changed. I think it must have been happening the entire time I've been here, slowly sneaking up on me.

I've had unexpected difficulty letting go of everything that was me and my life in Kirkwood. For years I talked of how I wanted to leave that place, and then not too long before I left, I realized how much I love it. Which isn't bad; it's good to love home. But to come here I had to forget it. I had to abandon the standards and thinking of that culture, at least to some extent. I really hung on to it for a long time. Mentally, I was still there.

But now, in what feels so sudden to me, I am totally and completely here. My entire life has shifted. It's strange and I can't describe it, but it feels like all my memories just changed colors. High school was years ago; everything feels so distant that it's like I dreamt it. It's freeing, and just what I've needed to happen. But I also know that I can never go back. When I return in June I will be a different person and I'll build a new life all over again. I have seven months more here. It doesn't sound like such a long time anymore, but at the same time I know I can't even imagine all that will happen and change in that time.

The last night of the trip, we slept in Quito. A group of my friends and I pushed a bunch some beds together and were laying piled on top of them. While I was dozing in and out of sleep, one of them turned to me and said, "I feel like we're supposed to be here." It's a great feeling.

El Oriente

Wednesday after school, the other three students from Ambato and I took a bus to Quito, where we reunited with everyone we had met at orientation. I was super excited to see everyone again. We got dinner at McDonalds. I think the other American girl, Sarah, and I were feeling a weird ownership of McDonalds, like we had some sort of birthright to those mcnuggets. Well, at least I sort of felt that way.

The next day we had a five hour drive. As a lover of long drives, I have to say, this was a great long drive. It was drizzling slightly most of the way and the mountains gradually changed into jungle. This really is a beautiful country. We arrived at the river and went to our hotel in canoes.

The hotel.

That day we had to hang out and swim in the pool. I went with a group for a walk through the little town nearby. It was humid.

Friday we went on a guided walk through rainforest. We learned about some different types of trees and their uses. We got to paint our faces with rocks and water from the stream. Sarah did my face, and I could feel that she was doing an intricate design and I was really excited to see how it was going to look. She wrote "loser" across my face. Thanks a lot, Sarah. The guide gave me a crown made out a palm leaf, one of the prouder moments of my life. To go back to hotel we floated down the river on rafts made from balsa logs. 

Saturday morning we went to a sanctuary for rainforest animals which had been illegally kept as pets. It was called AmaZOOnico (sic on the capitalization), a name which I greatly enjoyed. There were parrots, monkeys, an anaconda, some ocelots, and a whole other assortment. Then we got to go tubing down the river, which was really fun. At one point we stopped and did a rope swing into the water. After lunch we went to a butterfly house. There were all the kinds of butterflies that you only see on posters in elementary classrooms.

Sunday we made the drive back to Quito and spent the night in a hotel there. Other things that happened on this trip: I got a massage, I bought drug rug pants and I am thrilled with them, and we went to a karaoke bar and attempted and failed to sing "Hips Don't Lie" in Spanish. We had the nights free to hang out and we had some great times that I'm not about to write about here. I love so many of the other kids in my group and I had a great time being with them. The jungle is beautiful, but, as always, it's the friends I'll be remembering.

Sarah and me.

Napping on our hotel room porch.

This is how we got over the river on our jungle walk.

Before the Jungle Trip

November has been a busy month so far. I'm going back to the 6th for this post. That was a Wednesday and the first day in the student council campaigns.

The way they do student council elections here is different than in my high school back home, another example of the whole individualism vs. collectivism thing. Here, instead of running against each other for the specific positions they want, they assemble two complete lists of people. My friend asked me if I would be the treasurer for list A. Am I qualified for this position? Who cares. I have the gringa card, and we played it hard.

Wednesday and Thursday we went to every class in the school and presented our propositions. Both lists had the same propositions. We submitted lists of possible ideas to our principal/priest, and he only accepted the exact same ones. What I really love about this is it really removes most all possibility of voting based on merit. This is a pure, unabashed popularity contest.

Our strategy was called "Grace can speak English." Each class we went to I made a speech in rapid English. The students were absolutely amazed. It was as though English is not a language but rather some rare skill that only I have mastered.

During the elementary school recess we gave out foam smiley faces that we pinned on the kids' sweaters. Again, you would think this wouldn't be that exciting. But everyone REALLY wanted a foam smiley face. I was literally knocked over by them. When they lined up to go back to class there was a deafening chant in favor of "Lista A." We won by a landslide.

My student council armband.

That friday I went with our family friend to a big party that her school hosted. This is notable mainly because it really emphasized that there are dancing genes in Latin blood and I do not have them. I have no idea how the people here do the things that they do with their bodies. I just flail around and get sweaty.

Flailing with a man in a pirate costume.

My friend Pao and me.

Tuesday was the big parade. I got to carry the school sign and wear the extra-special fancy-day uniform. It was pretty cool walking down the street with the crowds and seeing people that I know. To be completely honest, the entire time during the parade I was just wanting to buy cotton candy from the people who were selling it all along the way.

My host mom and me, pre-parade.

After the parade my host family and I went and got some sort of milkshake-like drink made from eggs. The whole town was in a sort of relaxed festival mode. The exception was the Red Cross, who was taking the opportunity to offer free vaccinations. Based on the reactions I was witnessing, they were offering free amputations without anesthesia.

I had a great nap to reward my sign-carrying efforts and then used to afternoon to get things together to travel the following day.

Finados

First off let me say that my host family is back (yay!), and they went to Orlando without going to Disney World. The kids didn't want to go. They're possibly the only kids I know who would opt out of Disney World. But they're actually planning on a return trip in the future and my host dad and I are already making half-joking plans for them to visit me in St. Louis.

November 2nd is Dia de los Difuntos (Day of the Dead), but here it's called Finados. It mostly involves a big fair, colada morada, and guaguas de pan. Colada morada roughly translates to "purple drink," but there's no codeine involved. Actually I think the "colada" part comes from the fact that it has to be put through a strainer. It's like a stew of corn flour and fruit juice, and it's pretty good. Guaguas de pan is a bread shaped like a baby. Nobody seemed to know why this is the tradition. 

My celebrations began Thursday evening. At the university where I'm in art classes (for free!) there's some sort of indigenous advocacy group that was having a little party and gave us the traditional snack along with this traditional dish I can't remember the name of:

Potato cake, fried egg, avocado, onions, tomatoes.

Also that night my host grandmother was starting on the colada by juicing some blackberries:

Note the strainer.

Friday was a short day of school and was free-dress. I'm pretty sure that in most uniformed Catholic schools in the U.S., when there's a free-dress day, most people opt for comfort. From my observances, the American Catholic schoolgirl's out-of-school uniform is essentially nike shorts and a t-shirt. But I'm totally serious when I say that about a fourth of the girls here showed up in heels. My personal favorite outfit was this guy's:

"Canvas IMPACT LOOKING AWAY where are the guys? 68 LONELY GUY" ...should we be worried?

School let out around 10:30 and we all got colada morada and guaguas de pan:

They like to take pictures sideways.

The school made their colada in a giant vat. Also I should mention that it's served hot enough to burn you. 

BIG VAT.

They're basically stirring it with an oar.

Here are some photos of friends and me to illustrate how I really haven't mastered the Ecuadorian style of posing. Also I'm attributing my food baby to the fact that I ate about 3 people's bread. I haven't gained that much weight. Yet.

Friday night my family got home I had some fun talking with them about 'Murica. They were amazed that people were so courteous in the lines for the rides. Walmart is huge. Outlet malls are awesome (American clothes are outrageously expensive here). They said the food is bad; I promised to prove them wrong if they visited me.

Some people go to cemeteries SAturday but we didn't. That night my family and I went to the fair. This is essentially a carnival+festival+massive flea market. It was absolutely packed. They all acted like it was lame, but I was really legitimately excited. Some observations:

• Things being sold: toys, candy, clothes, shoes, food, cooking utensils, universal remotes, posters, knickknacks, antiques including the coolest collection of vintage glasses you ever did see, jewelry, makeup, electronics, music, everything that has ever existed.
• I really wouldn't trust someone in a fair booth to pierce my tongue but apparently a lot of my classmates do.
• Who needs a line for bumper cars? How about we just don't put up a fence, and when someone wants to ride, they have to stand in the surrounding crowd and run as fast as they can to the car they want? Seems safe.
• If you want a dvd with 50 different Chinese movies on it, this is the place for you.
• I saw a sign with the Joker's face on it that said "Who is serious?" I do not have an answer for him.
• One of my classmates bought a pot-leaf necklace and phone charm. I thought this was odd, because I had previously heard her make a negative comment about someone's marijuana use. I asked her if she smoked and she laughed, "No, no, never. It's just pretty." I mean, alright...

Ricky and I rode one of the suspicious-looking carnival rides. It was not smooth, quite painful actually. But I had a great time hysterically laughing at his shouting. To close I will leave you with a photo of one of his new shirts from the trip. He's different.

100% unaware that they're song lyrics.