We got up very late this morning--9:30! Not surprising for me, and Vincent had spent a good part of last evening playing basketball with the Flores family (while I devoted hours of painstakingly evacuating every part of my food processing plant), so he was very tired, too.
Today has been one of typing up loose ends, literally. We finished our report for Minga for this week (and the second half of last week), tying together the many parts of our interview(s) with Juanita and Andrés, and now Vincent has gone to bed and I am pulling together the last bits of our blog. Another beautiful, sunny and pleasantly cool day here. Juanita and I made an "ensalada" for lunch today. I have never had a part hot, part cold salad before. My contribution was to chop carrots, green and red peppers, cilantro, broccoli, celery, Bermuda onion (called cebolla colorada here) and other vegetables. Juanita cooked the carrots, peas (fresh ones!), broccoli, soaked the peppers, cilantro and onion in lime juice and added salt, white vinegar and avocado oil (yum!) to the mix and tossed it. It was delicious. She had made a soup especially for my poor, violated stomach, with rice and potatoes and a tiny bit of cilantro, which was very soothing, so I dared take two bites of the salad. It was really, really tasty.
Afterwards, we worked some more on our reports, and Juanita helped Emily with her homework. At four, we four adults drove to the shop at Mitad del Mundo and wound up our series of interviews asking questions which covered some of the gaps in their story. We noted how difficult it is with a natural product like tagua (which is a seed hardened to the consistency of wood) to achieve any kind of uniformity. The pink tube beads, especially, did not match the light pink interstitial beads. They had been bought at different times and contrasted too much. Rosita had been putting them together with white elastic as well, and black works better, as it doesn't show dirt as much. She grumbled (cheerfully) about having to redo them and made jokes about how she just wanted to go home and forget about her day. The place was packed with tourists, and Juanita and Andrés were kept pretty busy engraving names on tagua plaque bracelets for them. (At $1 each, it was a steal!)
While we were asking questions of the Flores, we watched Juanita making some changes to some of the samples we saw two weeks ago. It was amazing to see how much improvement there was. I am hoping they will sell very, very well for them and be new products they can be proud of.
Everyone was in a cheerful, relaxed mood, and we wound up the evening with a merienda (or what Juanita calls a cafecito) of tea, bread and peach marmalade. For the past five hours, we've been processing the experiences and conversations of this week. I am so grateful to feel better from my purgation!
One thing is crystal clear to me--health is by far the greatest possession one can have, and when it is lost, it doesn't matter how many other things I have, all I can think of is the suffering. NOTHING else registers. Juanita said a few days ago that every order she finishes is a success. Every item she sells is a success, and that it's important to celebrate all the successes, no matter how small, because it could so easily be otherwise. For me, every day I am healthy is a reason to celebrate with much gratitude. It's easy to forget how great it is to feel well. I vow afresh to remember as often as I can. I am thinking every day about what real wealth is--not what the media say, but being at peace, having meaningful work to do, having loving people around me, being able to touch and taste and smell and see and hear the sounds of joyfully living things. This is living life to the full. I am filled with gratitude and awe for the way Andrés and Juanita have taught me--again--the goodness of being alive.
Showing posts with label Mitad del Mundo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mitad del Mundo. Show all posts
Monday, February 16, 2015
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Welcome to Carnaval in Mitad del Mundo--the middle of the world! We awoke late on this Sunday morning after our long trip to and from Paradise yesterday. Two young women from Germany arrived yesterday evening, Birgit and Martina, and we chatted with them over breakfast about their adventures. Birgit has been in Ecuador many times before and speaks fluent Spanish (and English!) Martina is better in English than Spanish right now. It was an interesting cross-lingual experience (no, we did not commingle tongues, just languages). I told Birgit I dared not try to use my college German for fear of getting it permanently tangled with Spanish. We turned the jump rope for the kids a few times and then went upstairs to start working on our reports for Minga. I heard band music outside.
Curious, I stuck my head out the window and saw the most fantastic parade going by just up the street--huge puppets and arches of balloons, bands playing, dancers whirling. We had to go investigate. This turned out to be the Carnaval celebration for the city. Colorful, energetic and noisy! In 2000, when I was here for the first time during Carnaval, people were getting doused with water all over the place. I was told then that the whole country takes off work to celebrate the last days before the beginning of Lent by drenching each other, or in drier parts, dumping flour all over each other's heads, and in some places, eggs. Yechhh! Apparently, this year, aerosol cans of foam are de rigueur. Both parade participants and spectators were thus armed with different sizes of cans. It was a hot mess! Everyone laughed, though, and continued to douse each other with colored foam. I wasn't too pleased when I returned home to discover that my new embroidered white blouse was stained, but it washed out...
The parade participants were from all over the area, including a group of three who were representing an indigenous group whose antecedents here date back to before the Conquistadores. Each ethnic group, particularly the more indigenous ones, are struggling hard to retain language, customs and culture in the face of the tremendous onslaught of Madison Avenue and modern media. One group had decorated their float with all sorts of plants, fruits and flowers from the jungle--their sign read that they were attacking deforestation by replanting in various areas. Another wore costumes with masks of white faces with curlicued mustaches. Many of them danced in the most colorful garb as some people in the crowd (including myself, because what I really wanted to do was join in the dancing) clapped along. After about an hour or so, the parade ended, we all piled into the car and went to lunch. For me, this was the beginning of the end of the day. We did not hear the name of the juice they served when the waiter came out to say what was for lunch. You guessed it: it turned out to be tomate de arbol. Not knowing this, I drank it, although it didn't seem to sit very well with me. I guess my memory is wayyy too short. We walked about the fair some more, visiting various tents which were set up to display (and sell) various food products, flowers and other things from the region. We learned some fascinating things, including that avocados are thought to be good to prevent Alzheimer's, and jicama to ward off diseases of the prostate! Who knew? Jicama tastes pretty good raw, too.
Tired and happy, we walked home and lay down for a nap. I awoke sicker than Harry's dog. The next 16 hours or so were spent running back and forth from bed to bathroom and back. Oooohhhh, then I remembered and asked Juanita what the juice had been. She confirmed my fears, it was indeed tomate de arbol. Juanita asked if I had had that in 2011 when we were here. I remembered one day I had had to spend in the hotel sick after drinking some unfamiliar juice in a cafe. I suspect, though I cannot be sure, it was my nemesis, t.d.a. Now if I see an orange colored juice, I will ASK, no matter what.
I can say no more about this day, except that the first part of it was fun, and the second, hell. Maybe there is some kind of lesson in that, but I have to go to the bathroom now and don't have time to think about it.
Curious, I stuck my head out the window and saw the most fantastic parade going by just up the street--huge puppets and arches of balloons, bands playing, dancers whirling. We had to go investigate. This turned out to be the Carnaval celebration for the city. Colorful, energetic and noisy! In 2000, when I was here for the first time during Carnaval, people were getting doused with water all over the place. I was told then that the whole country takes off work to celebrate the last days before the beginning of Lent by drenching each other, or in drier parts, dumping flour all over each other's heads, and in some places, eggs. Yechhh! Apparently, this year, aerosol cans of foam are de rigueur. Both parade participants and spectators were thus armed with different sizes of cans. It was a hot mess! Everyone laughed, though, and continued to douse each other with colored foam. I wasn't too pleased when I returned home to discover that my new embroidered white blouse was stained, but it washed out...
The parade participants were from all over the area, including a group of three who were representing an indigenous group whose antecedents here date back to before the Conquistadores. Each ethnic group, particularly the more indigenous ones, are struggling hard to retain language, customs and culture in the face of the tremendous onslaught of Madison Avenue and modern media. One group had decorated their float with all sorts of plants, fruits and flowers from the jungle--their sign read that they were attacking deforestation by replanting in various areas. Another wore costumes with masks of white faces with curlicued mustaches. Many of them danced in the most colorful garb as some people in the crowd (including myself, because what I really wanted to do was join in the dancing) clapped along. After about an hour or so, the parade ended, we all piled into the car and went to lunch. For me, this was the beginning of the end of the day. We did not hear the name of the juice they served when the waiter came out to say what was for lunch. You guessed it: it turned out to be tomate de arbol. Not knowing this, I drank it, although it didn't seem to sit very well with me. I guess my memory is wayyy too short. We walked about the fair some more, visiting various tents which were set up to display (and sell) various food products, flowers and other things from the region. We learned some fascinating things, including that avocados are thought to be good to prevent Alzheimer's, and jicama to ward off diseases of the prostate! Who knew? Jicama tastes pretty good raw, too.
Tired and happy, we walked home and lay down for a nap. I awoke sicker than Harry's dog. The next 16 hours or so were spent running back and forth from bed to bathroom and back. Oooohhhh, then I remembered and asked Juanita what the juice had been. She confirmed my fears, it was indeed tomate de arbol. Juanita asked if I had had that in 2011 when we were here. I remembered one day I had had to spend in the hotel sick after drinking some unfamiliar juice in a cafe. I suspect, though I cannot be sure, it was my nemesis, t.d.a. Now if I see an orange colored juice, I will ASK, no matter what.
I can say no more about this day, except that the first part of it was fun, and the second, hell. Maybe there is some kind of lesson in that, but I have to go to the bathroom now and don't have time to think about it.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Sun. Feb. 8 New Beginnings with Juanita and Andrés
Up early today—leaving at 6:45. The night clerk was sleeping in the hallway so that he could check us out. The Hotel Santa Fe in Otavalo, if anyone would like to know, is a very nice one, with friendly and helpful employees. Last night the rain was the heaviest I had experienced in more than forty years. Very impressive! We emerged to washed streets, said our goodbyes to Romel (we will see him again) and set out for the bus station to Quito.
After a brief but intense bargaining session, Chris convinced the driver that he would do better to take all four of us to Quito rather than the bus station (we saved nearly an hour off that travel time). We had an excellent trip, telling Spanish “stupid” jokes and discussing politics with the driver. President Correa seems to be doing excellent things for the country in terms of infrastructure. In four years, his administration has turned the literacy rate on its head. It used to be one of the lowest in South America. It is now one of the highest. How they did it is very ingenious. Every person seeking a university degree was required to find 5 people every year who could not read or write and teach them. If one of his or her students learned, he or she was required to find another student. In that way, the problem was solved very quickly. The new constitution made university studies free, thus another roadblock was removed. The highway system seems to have improved dramatically from 2000 and even 2011. I learned in high school that improving roads has improved the living standards of civilizations from Rome to Britain and more recently, the U.S., Ireland and Ecuador.
Apparently the new government seems to be taxing the middle class and leaving the rich alone, which some say is making the distribution of wealth even more concentrated at the top, but I do not know what is truth and what is hype, even in my own country. With a generally captive press, I do not know how I can find out, either. I must say that it is a relief to me to not be hearing the polemics of the U.S. right and left on a daily basis. Most people seem to agree that the position of the poor in Ecuador is improving under Correa’s administration.
We arrived in Mitad del Mundo (outlying Quito), an hour earlier than expected. Juanita made us breakfast (mote with eggs) and Andrés (our host) drove us to their shop near the monument and the painted yellow line showing where the equator was determined to be by the international scientific team. The shops are nice, traditional Spanish colonial architecture (new). In the center are some museums and a large open space where traditional music and dance are performed. We helped out in sorting beads and bagging necklaces for a while until everyone was hungry, then all of us—Juanita, Andrés, Emily and Mateo, their two children, Vincent and I piled into the car and went to a neighborhood restaurant for lunch. South Evanston residents: it was a bit like Ted’s, on Dodge and Crain. Everyone knew everyone else in this restaurant, where two other families had gathered for Sunday lunch. It was strange to have flies dive-bombing us—I haven’t seen a fly in several months. Anita armed herself with a swatter and single-handedly wiped out a small battalion of them. Maybe it was only a troop. Still, we sang her praises for this skillful feat as it allowed us to eat in peace. Afterward, we stopped at a shop for ice cream treats, where I sampled the first fig ice cream I have ever seen. Yum! The nevlito (a fine mist of snow similar to ice fog) had begun—Andrés said it comes from the lake above in the mountains surrounding the town. It was quite pleasant!
Returning home, we met Chris coming back from worship and got our marching orders from him—what we should look for, what we should encourage, arranging our schedule, etc. He and Vincent went out for a walk, Juanita continued on with making tagua necklaces, and I had a nice chat with Elspeth and Amber via Face Time before they went out to a movie. When Chris and Vincent returned, we discussed samples with Anita and Andrés, said good-bye to Chris and headed for bed. The coming week will be spent with Anita and Andrés learning from them and interviewing them about their work here. We are excited to begin! Chris told us they are taking us to Manabí, which now we are excited about, too.
Chris told us the theme of worship today was avoiding worry. A good word for us as we begin our first week more or less on our own. We have always been taken care of in the past by our heavenly Father. Why would He stop now?
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