The gringa shuffle

Last weekend I went to a community not far from mine that was inaugurating their new electricity that they have recently got. The first thing I noticed was that this community, out in the middle of the rainforest, had more cell phone service than my much bigger community. I thought that wasn’t fair. But that’s not the point. This inauguration celebration was a pretty typical Ecuadorian event. We sat around at first talking. I met some of the kids and they spent an hour asking me how to say words in English. Some of the community leaders gave speeches. I learned that this quest for electricity began back in 1977. They have been fighting for electricity for 30 years, unbelievable. There was the “yes, we know there is a gringa here, she’s with us and here’s her story… she’s not as sketchy as you may think” speech. Then there was lunch – soup, a pile of rice with a piece of chicken, a couple fried pieces of pork, and then a small small portion of tomatoes. Of course you can’t forget the plate of yucca in the center of the table for all to share. And the spoon. All meals are served with a spoon. One of my personal goals for the two years is to learn how to cut meat with a spoon… because its hard. But I digress.. However, an Ecuadorian gathering wouldn’t be complete without the liquor and beer. After lunch (3/4 of which I took home for future meals), they broke out the crates of beer and a drink they call leche del tigre (milk of the tiger). The beer was typical Pilsner (similar to PBR in the states, and the more popular of the two beers they have to offer here). The leche del tigre was a mixture of milk and rum. I was not a fan at all… and it seemed that many people didn’t enjoy it.. so the mystery remains on why they still drink it. When Ecuadorians start to drink though, they also start to dance. Being one of very few women that were not preparing/cleaning up from lunch, and being the token gringa in the group, all the men wanted to dance with me. Let’s clear one thing up: I can’t dance. Period. To music in the states, to music in Argentina, to music in the Sierra of Ecuador (okay, maybe I can do the campo shuffle—but really, who can’t?), nor to music in the Amazon of Ecuador. I love to listen to music, but I can’t find the rhythm with my body to save my life. Well let me tell you, the Ecuadorians LOVE it. They love how the white girl has no rhythm when all of them were born dancing. They also love that although I can’t dance, I still do dance. There were embarrassing pictures taken, there were funny looks and lots of laughing. But I was laughing right along with them. You can’t get your feelings hurt if you think it is just as funny as they do. So I made some new contacts and people in the community think I’m sociable and have a great attitude. One point for the gringa integration.

Saturday later-afternoon I was hanging out in the park reading when one of my co-workers came running though. She is/was part of a “indoor” futbol team that was playing that night. Turns out there is a little league that is set up. Her team was actually the muncipal’s team, so there were other people I knew playing. They were playing women from a community not far from here… and although we lost, they put up a tough fight. Two observations from the game: One: Indoor futbol doesn’t necessarily mean that its inside of a building… this game was played in the basketball court of the park. Maybe because it wasn’t on a regular field it was “indoor”? and Two: the women played with canvass shoes on and no guards of any kind. Maybe it’s just the culture, but ouch. And they wondered why their legs were covered in bruises by the end of the game.


The rest of my time is either spent in the office or integrating myself into the community. I haven’t been as good as I would like to be at “Whipping it out”… but I’m working on it. After the dancing event on Saturday, I have finally made good relations with the lady at one of the stores by the park. We had a good conversation as I was buying some of the basic necessities I needed to make dinner one night. I met a nun that lives in town when the lady at the pharmacy told me that she sells the medicine that the PC nurses sent me looking for. I didn’t realize that when the lady at the pharmacy said “hermanitas” (“sisters”) that she actually meant hermanitas as in nuns. Boy was that a surprise.

I went to the sub-centro de salud (clinic) today to introduce myself and give them the PC list of numbers in case there is an emergency. I’m hopefully going to be doing something with them during my time here… after all, I am a health volunteer. We’ll see when the director/head doctor comes back from his conference next week.

A few other thoughts:
**Alert the media: I have discovered the reason for the droughts in the US Midwest. The rainforest stole all the water. I can not even explain how much rain I have seen in the last 24 hours. Downpours that prevent you from seeing across the street… that last for hours. I’m not sure there has been a day that it hasn’t rained. You wake up to it, you go to work in it, you come home for lunch in it, and its still raining into the evening. I tried explaining to a couple of my coworkers this morning that people in my part of the US would do anything to have rain like this. That we have droughts which hurt the crops. One woman’s response was that people here know how lucky and special their country is for getting all the rain and how better their agriculture is because of it.
**I´m starting to believe that my community is more interested in getting me a husband and family during my two years than actually what I was sent here to do... I think it was something about health?
**I have banana trees in by backyard and chickens that run around everywhere. If you´re looking for the chicks, they are probably in my front yard. But the pig? You´ll have to walk behind all the banana trees.


Signing off from the jungle,
Stacie