Hey Kids,
I'm currently home on summer break, and as I was making the day-long journey I thought about how many of you don't travel internationally, and how much you're missing! Or not. I decided to take notes this time, to help you get a taste for the whole fiasco that is international travel.
Quito-Columus
June 16, 2009
Tossing and turning
Alarm
Last minute packing
PANIC!! No license!!
Drag luggage outside
Wait for cab
Run for license
Pray for mercy
Nearly biff it on slick, wet pavement
Extra tip for honest driver
Wait to check in
Wait to pay exit fee
Wait to clear customs
Wait to clear seurity
Wait for plane
Wait for other passengers
Row to myself!!!
Read Bible
Read in-flight magazine
Start a book
Omlette and a hot dog?!
Start another book
See arial view of Panama Canal
Take a nap
Wait to get off plane
Miami- hot/cold/hot/cold...pneumonia?
Walk, walk, walk
Wait to clear customs
Chat with cute customs guy
Wait to transfer luggage
Mass of humanity
Cattle-herding, anyone?
Walk, walk, walk
Wait to clear security
(Stupid Miami airport set up)
Walk, walk, walk
AA flight 592 to NY LaGuardia....Gate D50
Walk, walk, walk
Hot, humid airport bathroom
Board plane (no waiting!)
Full flight
DIET DR. PEPPER!
God bless America
Read more of book 2
6:30 PM-6 more hours till home
Really liking book 2
See Empire State building
See Central Park
Decide to come visit NYC some day
Security...again
Buy food or wait it out?
$1.39 for ONE ORANGE?!?
Wait it out
Wait for plane 3 of 3
Hope the seat next to mine is empty
Wait to board
No one next to me!
Amusing stewardess
Bye-bye, NYC
Next stop, Great State of Ohio!
Read still more of book 2
Hello, Ohio!
Home
Family
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Two Things
1. For those of you who've tuned in for the first installment of the "Gringa Gringa" Papa John's drama, I have a continuation.
I ordered again while my friend, Megan, was visiting. I went through the name part again, slowly spelling out my name, and pretty confident that this time we got somewhere.
Then the pizza arrived. I have become Masuit Fasocrer. Seriously. I'm not making that up.
2. I'm been dealing with some sort of gastro-intestinal nastiness, so I've been spending more time than usual in the bathroom. Today I was spending some more quality time in there and I started fiddling around with the little cap on the faucet....you know, the screw-on part with the strainer in it? Well, this was different from the kind I've seen in the states, but the impressive part was what was in it. Small boulders. Here's a picture in case you think I'm exaggerating:
Guess it's good that I don't drink the water here, huh? :)
Monday, May 11, 2009
"Changable Weather" My Sweet Bippy!
Preface: this is my 100th post on this blog. Just thought I’d mention that.
This week as I took my rent money to the top floor of my building to pay my landlady, I refused to come in because I was sick and didn't want to contaminate anyone. The landlady readily agreed and with the sympathetic Ecuadorian grandmother look (that I'm coming to appreciate here) told me that "the whole world" is sick right now, and it's because of the changeable weather.
I nodded and agreed and promised to "take care of myself" and went back to my own apartment, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at this equatorial country's opinion of "changeable weather".
People, it's May. Know how I know? Not because the grass is green again, or the trees have little leaflets or because the birds have returned from their winter homes. No, it's looked like spring here since I arrived. Last August.
I know it's May because my facebook friends keep posting pictures of their newly-spiffed-up flower gardens. Because my brother emailed me a clip of my nieces fishing at the neighbor's pond. Because people back home are starting to talk about graduation open houses. Because Dalen's playing softball. Because Dad's riding his motorcycle to work again.
Ecuador is beautiful, but this whole seasonless thing...I don't know. They tell you they have seasons here. What they mean is, sometimes it rains a lot and sometimes is rains a little. This is not enough change to constitute a season.
And a temperature change of 1.5 over the span of a month is NOT changeable weather! Examples of changeable weather, in case you, too, are unclear about this, are as follows:
-This December when I flew home for Christmas, it was -7 degrees on my first night. During my ten days at home, the temps rose to an UNSEASONABLE 60 degrees, and then dropped again to freezing before I left. This, friends, in changeable weather.
-You know what changeable weather is if, when you purchase or make your childrens' Halloween costumes, you arrange for them to be a size too big, and of lightweight material. That way, if Halloween turns out to be an 80-degree evening, they can wear just the costume. And if it's a 30-degree evening, you can put in on over their snowsuit. Changeable weather.
-Once when I was in sixth grade it snowed in May. I remember running off the playground with tiny cold snowflakes kissing my shorts-clad legs. Changeable weather.
And here are a few things that changeable weather is not, just to be extra clear:
-Changeable weather is not when the sun goes behind a cloud and the temps drop ten degrees. We call this equatorial sunlight.
-Changeable weather is not when, regularly each afternoon at 3pm the sun disappears behind a honkin' huge storm cloud and the skies proceed to dump all they've got in the way of precipitation for an hour or so, just long enough to make your walk home from school more like a wade. Annoying- yes. Changeable weather- not so much.
-And finally, changeable weather is not when the calendar has switched to a definitively springy month (such as May) and you mentally talk yourself into feeling like it's spring now. This does not cause colds, or flus or other illnesses. This does not actually change the weather. It's all in your heads, people. Wishful thinking, that.
And now, I think I'll take my sickly self off to get ready for bed. So I can face another beautiful spring morning tomorrow, with my non-weather-induced cold.
Thank you.
This week as I took my rent money to the top floor of my building to pay my landlady, I refused to come in because I was sick and didn't want to contaminate anyone. The landlady readily agreed and with the sympathetic Ecuadorian grandmother look (that I'm coming to appreciate here) told me that "the whole world" is sick right now, and it's because of the changeable weather.
I nodded and agreed and promised to "take care of myself" and went back to my own apartment, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at this equatorial country's opinion of "changeable weather".
People, it's May. Know how I know? Not because the grass is green again, or the trees have little leaflets or because the birds have returned from their winter homes. No, it's looked like spring here since I arrived. Last August.
I know it's May because my facebook friends keep posting pictures of their newly-spiffed-up flower gardens. Because my brother emailed me a clip of my nieces fishing at the neighbor's pond. Because people back home are starting to talk about graduation open houses. Because Dalen's playing softball. Because Dad's riding his motorcycle to work again.
Ecuador is beautiful, but this whole seasonless thing...I don't know. They tell you they have seasons here. What they mean is, sometimes it rains a lot and sometimes is rains a little. This is not enough change to constitute a season.
And a temperature change of 1.5 over the span of a month is NOT changeable weather! Examples of changeable weather, in case you, too, are unclear about this, are as follows:
-This December when I flew home for Christmas, it was -7 degrees on my first night. During my ten days at home, the temps rose to an UNSEASONABLE 60 degrees, and then dropped again to freezing before I left. This, friends, in changeable weather.
-You know what changeable weather is if, when you purchase or make your childrens' Halloween costumes, you arrange for them to be a size too big, and of lightweight material. That way, if Halloween turns out to be an 80-degree evening, they can wear just the costume. And if it's a 30-degree evening, you can put in on over their snowsuit. Changeable weather.
-Once when I was in sixth grade it snowed in May. I remember running off the playground with tiny cold snowflakes kissing my shorts-clad legs. Changeable weather.
And here are a few things that changeable weather is not, just to be extra clear:
-Changeable weather is not when the sun goes behind a cloud and the temps drop ten degrees. We call this equatorial sunlight.
-Changeable weather is not when, regularly each afternoon at 3pm the sun disappears behind a honkin' huge storm cloud and the skies proceed to dump all they've got in the way of precipitation for an hour or so, just long enough to make your walk home from school more like a wade. Annoying- yes. Changeable weather- not so much.
-And finally, changeable weather is not when the calendar has switched to a definitively springy month (such as May) and you mentally talk yourself into feeling like it's spring now. This does not cause colds, or flus or other illnesses. This does not actually change the weather. It's all in your heads, people. Wishful thinking, that.
And now, I think I'll take my sickly self off to get ready for bed. So I can face another beautiful spring morning tomorrow, with my non-weather-induced cold.
Thank you.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
A New Life
I've been sick, which is kindof nice, at least for the resting-up aspect. I can't believe how much I can sleep. Hours and hours and still sleep the night through. But on the other hand, I'm remembering why, as a general rule, people prefer NOT to be sick. I'm pretty sure the last time I had the flu I was in Russia. Nearly passed out on the subway in Moscow. Nearly passed out in the bathtub in our hotel, which was built to house olympians in the 1980 games. That was (wow) fall of 2001. Eight years without the flu, but I'm making up for it this week. Happily, the super-sweet doctor I went to see this morning (my first experience with the Ecuadorian medical community was quite satisfactory) said the flu that's going around lasts a bout 10 days, so hopefully by the end of this week I'll be back to normal.
All that said to lay the foundation of thinking. I recently realized that I can't not think. Not when I'm tired, or sick, or even asleep. I used to think everyone dreams every time they sleep, like me. And this week I've had more thinking time than normal, since my daily activities have been rather subdued.
Just now I was working on a Bible study and my computer's screen saver clicked on- a slideshow of pictures. As I watched the photos pan across the screen I realized that all of the pictures are less than a year old. They're all from my life here. Scenery around Quito; my HomeBase class at school; my birthday celebration; a shot with a roommate at a restaurant. And I had two contradictory and yet true thoughts:
-It's so easy to make a new life
-It's so hard to make a new life
If you've ever started over somewhere, I would imagine you can relate. Some of it's easy. From my first minute in Ecuador I was surrounded by community from the school. I arrived with a place to stay; a job; a group of co-workers and a church family. It's been the easiest overseas adjustment I've made to date.
And yet, it's hard. I recognise that when I go home for the summer, one huge draw is being with people who know me deep. Now I'm not a hard person to get to know. I open up pretty easily (maybe to a fault?). But there's still something about an old friend. A comfortable friend who knows your experiences, your gifts, your faults, and has moved on. Someone who knew you in middle school. Someone who can recognise the flashes of who your were as a kid when they show through your adult facade. I miss that.
It's hard because I don't really speak Spanish. I pretend sometimes, but even when I do understand, it's hard work. People who've been here for ten-plus years tell me it never ceases to be a truly second langauge.
It's hard because the culture isn't mine. I can try to adapt, but it will never be mine. I will always be trying to figure out the whys and hows of life here.
But then again, what's hard isn't always bad. Often, it's the hard that's worth working at. Where's the challenge in the easy? And here, in these three sentences, you see the conundrum of my life. The safe, the known, the comprehensible...becomes boring. But the new, the unknown, the scary...becomes wearing.
I guess the bottom line is that neither is my true home.
All that said to lay the foundation of thinking. I recently realized that I can't not think. Not when I'm tired, or sick, or even asleep. I used to think everyone dreams every time they sleep, like me. And this week I've had more thinking time than normal, since my daily activities have been rather subdued.
Just now I was working on a Bible study and my computer's screen saver clicked on- a slideshow of pictures. As I watched the photos pan across the screen I realized that all of the pictures are less than a year old. They're all from my life here. Scenery around Quito; my HomeBase class at school; my birthday celebration; a shot with a roommate at a restaurant. And I had two contradictory and yet true thoughts:
-It's so easy to make a new life
-It's so hard to make a new life
If you've ever started over somewhere, I would imagine you can relate. Some of it's easy. From my first minute in Ecuador I was surrounded by community from the school. I arrived with a place to stay; a job; a group of co-workers and a church family. It's been the easiest overseas adjustment I've made to date.
And yet, it's hard. I recognise that when I go home for the summer, one huge draw is being with people who know me deep. Now I'm not a hard person to get to know. I open up pretty easily (maybe to a fault?). But there's still something about an old friend. A comfortable friend who knows your experiences, your gifts, your faults, and has moved on. Someone who knew you in middle school. Someone who can recognise the flashes of who your were as a kid when they show through your adult facade. I miss that.
It's hard because I don't really speak Spanish. I pretend sometimes, but even when I do understand, it's hard work. People who've been here for ten-plus years tell me it never ceases to be a truly second langauge.
It's hard because the culture isn't mine. I can try to adapt, but it will never be mine. I will always be trying to figure out the whys and hows of life here.
But then again, what's hard isn't always bad. Often, it's the hard that's worth working at. Where's the challenge in the easy? And here, in these three sentences, you see the conundrum of my life. The safe, the known, the comprehensible...becomes boring. But the new, the unknown, the scary...becomes wearing.
I guess the bottom line is that neither is my true home.
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