I haven’t been getting the best of sleep while in Ecuador. This could be partially due to the fact that I just got a mosquito net a couple of days ago. To avoid the incessant little bites from all types of critters, I have been sleeping in thick socks and sweats (with the hood up) in already warm weather. So, combine sweating through your clothes every night while getting eaten alive, with roosters at 3am and loud music from the neighbors- it adds up to mostly restless nights. Which is why I was subconsciously bummed when I was woken from my slumber last week at 4:30am with a phone call. I was on my back, legs straight out, and my whole body and mind were completely relaxed. Until I realized I had picked up a phone call in my sleep, from my fellow intern who was waiting at the top of our community for me in the taxi I had ordered the night before.
Suddenly, I was up, throwing my body out of my bed and rummaging through my suitcase for a change of pants and socks (Halfway to our destination, I realized I was still in the tshirt I had slept in). I ran downstairs in my rubber boots, frantically saying goodbye to my host dad, who was already up for the day. I can’t imagine what I looked like to him in that moment, feeling disheveled and embarrassed for sleeping in 45 minutes later than I meant to. I ran out to the taxi to meet my friend and driver, and we were off to Archidona, the nearby town. There, we would join a few other interns and head to La Libertad, where we would take part in a guayusa ceremony. You may be wondering why my dad was already up at 4am when everyone else was still asleep. My dad takes part in a Kichwa tradition of waking up before the sun rises and drinking the tea brewed from the guayusa (written wayusa in Kichwa) plant to start the day. He’s the only one in my family of nearly 12 that really takes part, but many households practice this a whole family, every morning. It’s difficult to explain entirely, as there are many parts to the tradition, but drinking the guayusa tea is mostly a way to reflect, socialize, connect with your ancestors and the Amazon, and energize yourself for the day ahead. It reminds me a bit of sitting with your loved ones, drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. A group of us interns took part in a guayusa ceremony, which just meant we had Kichwa community members from La Libertad explain to us the many traditions of the drink while we drank it. We arrived to the community while it was still dark, and took a path through the back of the community. It was a little unnerving and disorienting taking the long walk in the middle of the jungle when I was still waking up. About halfway there, though, our intern leader had us all stop to take a moment of pause. We all turned off our flashlights in the middle of the trail, and stood in silence, listening to the bugs and water and life surrounding us. For a minute, I felt like a tiny little bug, chilling on a branch, listening in on the conversations of the animals around me. One we got to the choza, or hut for the ceremony, we sat in a circle and were handed pilches from which to drink the guayusa. The tea is pretty bitter if you don't add lemon and sugar, like most people do. But it also felt more powerful to drink it this way, like I was absorbing the real energy of the plant. Before drinking the whole cup, however, we learned how to spit it on various parts of our body, as ancestors did, to protect themselves from dangers in the jungle. We all tried our best to get a good spit spray onto each arm, below us, and up over our heads. You also gargle the tea like mouthwash, to clear our mouth and body of bad energy that may have been left over from the night before. Our leaders of the ceremony also told us many interesting stories about the history of the plant, and how it was discovered by humans. It is said that the grandfather of one of the leaders stumbled upon the plant one day in the forest, and it was shaking. He tried to reach for it and grab it, but the guayusa would not allow itself to be touched. When the man brought back his family to see the plant, the guayusa continuted to shake and avoid the people's grasps. Then they realized that the guayusa plant was a virgin- never touched or used by humans. So, the people bowed and prayed to Pachamama, or Mother Earth, to ask for use of the guayusa. Pachamama listened and allowed them to harvest the guayusa, which is now drunk by Ecuadorians every day. The people's connection to and understanding of their natural world is so moving, in a way that makes me wish I had that same deep connection with the jungle. Kichwa people, specifically, hold a special relationship with their environment, one where they try to maintain balance and respect. Just yesterday, I noticed my nine year old brother taking a moment to pray to himself and the tree before climbing it to grab some clementines for us to snack on. Everyone understands how to communicate with the earth and how to respect it, in a way that I've never seen before. We also got our dreams interpreted, which is a practice that can casually takes place for some families. Kichwa culture has many different meanings for different dreams. They believe that if you dream about something, you are receiving a sign or message about how to spend your day. There are certain interpretations of some signals in dreams that have spooky meanings. The dream that I shared with our leader, Amable, for example, was about my host sister. My dream took place in bed, but I couldn't tell if I was awake or asleep throughout the whole thing. When I think I was awake, I was experiencing sleep paralysis, and then I kept thinking I was seeing my host sister next to my bed. She would peek her head out and giggle, playing hide and seek. When I finally woke up, she wasn't there. There was also a worm hole of insects that appeared above my bed and was sucking all of the bugs out of my room (yep, super icky). Amable told me that because she was near me in my dream, but not in real life, that meant she may get sick. Another intern asked about dreams about you pulling your teeth, which Amable said could mean a family member is going to pass away. We talked for a long time about all of the different meanin gs and interpretations, and I started thinking about all of the dreams I have and how they could be interpreted. Apparently, a lot of dreams with parties and music can generally have bad connotations. I swear all of my dreams recently have been about parties- uh oh. Maybe it was the multiple pilches of wayusa, but I was feeling real emotional during the whole ceremony. The quiet rushing water right outside, the calm voices of our guides telling elaborate stories, the warm and bitter guayusa soothing my throat. I felt too lucky to have been sitting in the middle of the jungle with creative and loving people from all over the world, including from La Libertad. I heard stories that sounded like they were from a fairytale; I watched a couple of people take tough hits from a hortiga, a stinging nettle plant to relieve some pain (our leader, Stephanie, calls it nature's Icy Hot); I peed in a beautiful river! It was an early and moving morning, and since then, I've been trying to thank Pachamama as much as I can.
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This past weekend, to get a change of scenery, I visited Baños. This touristy town is about three hours south from Tena. We took a bus for $5 (would recommend over Greyhound, they played movies and everything) and got in Thursday night. I was with three other interns, and we all stayed in a room at this hostel in town. Arriving in Baños and being tourists for the weekend was weird- I immediately started feeling a push and pull of my American tendencies and my new desires and thoughts in Ecuador. I felt immediate comfort hearing other Americans' accents in the hostel, and was so excited to feel the cold air outside versus the more humid and warm Tena climate. But with each of these thoughts, I also started feeling waves of guilt. I was thinking about my host family a lot, and was wondering what they were up to while I was using all of these amenities. While I am here to travel and experience all different parts of Ecuador, I also want to immerse myself with my family. I've found this balance to be difficult so far, as there are so many things I want to see and do in such a short time, but I also love being with my host family. Nevertheless, the weekend was really enjoyable and beautiful. Baños is one of my favorite places that I've ever visited. We couldn't see it when we arrived at night, but the next morning, we looked out from our hostel's wide windows to see the entire city surrounded by mountains. The view was incredible, and it felt oddly calming to be hugged by the tall, green scenery. The first day, we went to Casa del Arbol, which took an hour to get to by bus. For $1, we inched up the mountain to the park of swings for what felt like forever- shifting gears uphill on a bus with 40 people all holding their breath was slightly unnerving. But the tense trip up was worth it. The views from the top of the mountain were so beautiful, and riding on one of their swings felt like you were flying into the mountains. I didn't think my stomach would flip as much as it did! After spending a short time at the park, we decided to walk back down the hill for about an hour to take a stop at this upscale spa/hotel, called Luna Volcán. For $20, we were given robes and towels, and access to the pools overlooking the city of Baños. The experience was relaxing, sipping drinks with the other interns and watching the clouds glide through the tips of the mountains. We did all look at each other at one point and admit that it all felt a little unsettling, though. The vibe of the hotel was very upper class tourist. After living in an indigenous community, this spa felt different to me than it would have a month ago. Though, I did still appreciate my first hot shower in a couple of weeks. The next day, we ate breakfast in Mercado Central, where tons of individual booths sell essentially the same meals at the same price. This is a very common practice here, that seems almost un-American to me- place the competition right on top of each other. But they don't seem to mind, and the food was delicious. I also bought little things at the outdoor market next door. Something I didn't prepare for was the amount of money I was going to be spending while traveling. While still cheaper than traveling in the States, prices were hiked up for eating and shopping in Baños, because of the high number of visiting foreigners. The next day, we visited Pailon del Diablo, which has a large waterfall that you can hike up to see, and even stand under it if you want to get soaked! It also only cost few a dollars to enter, and had great markets near the front where you could buy local jewelry or bags. Leaving at the end of the weekend was difficult. I don't think I am particularly good at transitions between environments. Leaving the odd comfort of other foreigners, combined with excitement to see my host family, made me feel a little bit of guilt. I know my thoughts were valid and made sense, but part of me wished I could more easily adapt to hopping around this country. The weekend flew by, and I spent too much money, but the trip was definitely worth it. I think I'll stay in my community and travel a little less for the next few weeks, though- it may be easier on my body and mind. Plus, I missed my host siblings and parents (and parrot!) too much! One of the first pieces of advice I received when asking previous volunteers what to expect from this program, started with, "So, you're going to get sick..."
There was an inevitable expectation of getting sick that I knew from the get-go. Any and all gringos eating the food and drinking water here-unless extremely careful, and lucky- will expose themselves to unfamiliar bacteria and get sick at least once. And for me, this sickness started just a few days into my stay in my community. It started with tummy grumbles, then multiple trips to the bathroom, then waking up one morning with full body aches and shivers. My poor body was trying to hard to fight this stuff off, and I started kicking myself for being so lenient with what I was eating. I had drank Chonta juice twice already, which could easily have thrown my body for a loop. I also had been accepting candies from the spit covered hands of Yosalin- not her fault for being a gracious toddler. Not to mention, I've been eating uvas before they've been washed, and I drank a glass of water in a Tena office without thinking that it probably isn't filtered. So, I screwed up. I can't blame anyone but myself for the fever and discomfort I experienced for most all of yesterday. I tried to be discreet about it, so as not to disturb my family. But when the bathroom can be seen from both my parent's room and the kitchen, it only takes two runs to the bathroom for them to notice. As soon as I confessed my pain, they were offering me solutions. My mom boiled me a small glass of a dark concoction to drink that morning, as I was about to take an hour long bus ride to Tena and needed something fast. It was numbing on my throat, and made my whole body feel a bit loopy. It definitely helped, along with the electrolytes and basic meds I picked up at the pharmacy in town. Once I got home, my family was feeling my head to check for my temperature, which apparently was still high. My host dad told me to sit down in this small chair in the door of the kitchen. Susie, my host mom, cut up some pure tobacco, and Bolivar started performing a traditional cleansing. He wouldd blow tobacco smoke on different parts of my head and body, and brush me with a bushel of leaves down my limbs to rid myself of the sickness. My host sister told me that the leaves, which were very alive before the ritual, would be wilted and dead when we were finished. The process was very calming, and made my spine tingle. It was casual, the family was watching and carrying on as it happened. As soon as he finished, I was sent to bed. I was exhausted, and had the best night's sleep I've experienced since getting here. Today, I'm feeling much better. And good thing, since I'm taking a last minute trip to the touristy town of Baños this weekend. From now on, I'll be drinking more (gringo) water, avoiding jugo de chonta, and thinking twice before accepting Yosalin's dulces (again, not her fault, pobrecita). Have you ever asked someone to repeat themselves more than once, and when you don’t get it the second time, you just pretend that you did to not be a bother? Well, me too. That’s probably happened a good 5 times today, not at the fault of my wonderful host family, but rather, at my fatigue and worry that i will be a worse visitor if I am actually THAT incapable of conversing. On the morning of my first full day, I sat at the breakfast table as my host mom reminded me I was going to the chakra this morning. What i didn’t understand was that i wasn’t going with my host dad, but instead, with my 15 year old brother Cosmi. I figured it out when my family kept waiting for me to move; that, and Cosmi was standing at the door with rubber boots and a machete. The Chakra is an agroforestry system used by rural indigenous towns to live off their land communally in a sustainable manner. Basically, it’s a big rainforest on the side of the community that intercrops all types of plants. They’re used for everything from medicinal purposes, to food, to construction materials. Most families have someone go into the chakra at least once a day to harvest a couple of things. Cosmi and I walked about 10 minutes to the chakra, talking about a couple of plants and other simple things. We talked about our favorite fruits, and i revealed that I love the guavas and uvas here. Uvas are grapes, and here, guava means ice cream fruit, this long plant with pods of white, creamy sweetness. It’s difficult to describe a chakra, except that it looks like what you imagined a jungle would look like when you were little. It’s gorgeous, with many layers and countless different plants scattered throughout the forest. When we first hiked in, Cosmi immediately cut open a cacao plant for me to snack on. With these, you can suck on the pulp surrounding each seed, and it tastes like candy. I snacked as we walked only a few steps more to the uva trees. I was surprised to notice how high up the grapes were, at least 20 feet in the air. “How are you going to get those down?” I asked, and he stated, “i’m going up.” He told me to sit and watch as he does it. So I squatted on a nearby rock and gaped in awe as my 15 year old brother pulled off his boots, took a few moments to hug and hold the tree, and then swung his legs around to encircle and start scaling the tree. Once up the nearly 20 feet to the first branch, he pulled up a long bamboo stick with a kind of hook on the end that was leaning against the tree, and started using it to reach for the bunches of grapes on the far off branches. It was a fun game of trying to pull the grapes towards him and catch them. This was one of the first moments so far where I have been wowed by my host family. And I could write a book about each of my family members- my father, Bolivar, is a hardworking man trying to make ends meet for his five kids and three grandchildren currently living in the house. He cares so much about sharing his culture with me, and is reminding me to practice my Kichwa every time we see each other. Joel is nine, and both extremely silly, while also mature. He is always messing around and making jokes, but will never leave me in the dark. I’ve gone to the river with him a few times, which is so fun. I’m teaching him how to swim, and he’s teaching me every version of tag and hide and seek that exists. Yosalin, Cristi’s daughter, is one of the cutest little tricksters I’ve ever encountered. She’s three, and everyone calls her “la maestra” because I spend so much time with her, she’s basically reteaching me Spanish. Since Cristi has a newborn she’s constantly caring for, Yosalin and I like to spend hours together drawing in my notebook, counting her stuffed animals, or playing at the daycare next door. Each day she’s wearing a new piece of my clothing, either my watch, or my headband- I know better than to take off any accessory near her unless i don’t want to see it for a day. She shows me so much affection, and even when she starts to get on my nerves, as toddlers can, I miss her as soon as she leaves the room. Cristi is a strong young woman, taking care of two kids at my age, often making meals for the family, and still taking the time to invite me to watch novelas with her and chat about fun girly things. There’s so much more I could say about each family member, but I’ll save it for later. For now, I’ll lay out a typical day in the first week settling into my community: I wake up a little before 7, while most aside from the little ones have already risen. My mom, Susie, makes me breakfast and I eat with the kids or whoever else hasn’t eaten yet. If there’s no school, I play games around the house with Joel and Yosalin, or walk to the daycare for a change of hiding spots. In the afternoon, Joel and I will want to go to the river to swim. We may bring an insistent Yosalin, even though she’s too young to go in the water and will just throw rocks while we swim. In the evening, all of the family will be sitting around a bowl of picked and boiled Chonta to peel and chat. I may surprise them with understanding something they think I didn’t hear, or I may just sit in silence and find comfort in the home. Every family member takes the time to explain things to me, and have so much patience for my silly spanish mistakes and lack of knowledge. They’ve opened their home to me, and I know I will always have a piece of my heart and mind in their company. Not much else has happened thus far, other than a couple of day trips out to Tena (and feeling unwell- but I’ll talk about that later). Now, I’m feeling grateful and excited to know my community even better, and to get to work! After accidentally falling asleep last night while listening to some music, my eyes shot open at 11:30pm in immediate panic. A thought was overtaking me that I hadn’t yet allowed to permeate into my conscious thoughts- I am going to be alone in two days. In the middle of the rainforest. Speaking only Spanish. For a pretty. Long. Time. Before this jolt of fear, I had really only let myself be excited by the amazing opportunity, and to meet my community and host family. And while that excitement is still at the forefront of my mind, this creeping panic inched its way in there, too.
To be fair to myself, yesterday was a very long day. In the morning, a few fellow interns and I met up in Quito for first time, and were picked up by a taxi at 8am. We drove nearly four hours through highlands, cloud forests, the Paramo (the Andean tundra ecosystem), to finally reach our rainforest. The ride was very bumpy and windy, and I was constantly being thrown from one neighbor to the other in the back seat. After what seemed like a full day, we finally arrived in Tena, a city of about 25,000 people around noon, my butt sore and my mind clouded. Our organization leaders met us and we all got a delicious lunch, gave some introductions and got an overview of our week. We’d be staying in Tena for the next three nights, and would be dropped off with our individual communities outside of the city on Thursday afternoon. After our introduction, we were sent on a scavenger hunt around the city, and the neighboring town, without our local leaders, to find important buildings and bus stops that we should know. We weren’t allowed to use our phones for help, which required us to ask locals on the street where each location was. While the task sounded daunting, every person we asked for help was more than willing to answer our questions. So far, I’ve learned that Ecuadorians are very friendly and giving people, and that played in our favor for the nearly four hours that we spent getting lost and unlost in an unfamiliar place. After our exhausting adventure, we met back up with our leaders and had amazing tacos a block down from where we were staying. While eating, we had a conversation about risk management and emergency protocols- and after a full day of traveling, feeling lost and confused, and getting nervous about the upcoming weeks, this conversation got my heart racing. From encountering dangerous bugs and animals in the jungle, to keeping yourself out of unsafe situations at night in the city, I felt like I really did not know what I was getting myself into. Mom, before you freak out: the risks are relatively low, in reality. A lot of dangers in the US that I am used to preparing myself for, are worse than the ones I may be at risk of here. And I will have a host family and community, as well as my organization leaders and fellow interns, supporting me and looking out for me. But in this moment, we had to speak about the possibilities of being confronted with a danger, and it felt more daunting than I was ready for. Flash forward to nearly midnight, waking up to my heart racing and my mind warning, what have you done. Suddenly I was doubting my ability to do this internship. Hard. I tossed and turned for a bit, trying to push away my fears and anxiety, before coming to the conclusion that I just needed to take this day by day. The anticipation of meeting my family was definitely adding to my stress, as I keep trying to imagine in my head what my family and room and community will act and look like. But like I told myself before I got on my plane to Quito, I’m going to have to roll with the punches and realize I’m not going to know a lot of realities until I’m right in the thick of them. And making expectations and falsehoods in my head will only make it harder to adjust, so I have to try to stop imagining the future and instead, breathe in the present moment. So today, that’s what I tried to do. I got delicious breakfast, I learned a lot about Ecuadorian and Amazonian culture for a few hours, I ate a traditional maito dish (fish steamed in a leaf, with tomato, onions, yucca and other sides) and tried a chontocuro (actually really flavorful when you don’t think about the squirming worm it once was). I hiked in the rain through the jungle for the first time, which was steep and slippery and sticky and beautiful. I sat at the bottom of a waterfall and got my toes wet in the refreshingly cold water. And I looked up to the top of the waterfall, and the canopy surrounding the flowing water, and felt like I was really going to be okay. I’m going to be pushed, and I’m going to feel uncomfortable, and I’m going to get tired often. But I am also going to learn more here every day than I could ever learn in my safe space at home. Just on the hike alone, a local who was our guide was teaching us about all the different plants, and their uses, and funny stories behind them. Her kindness and openness reminded me that those people and opportunities for learning are going to be surrounding me every day. So I’m okay with having a few midnight wake up calls, if that means I’ll soon have a new place to call home in Ecuador. Ps- if any specific questions about my experience arise when you’re reading my posts, don’t be afraid to comment or message me! In one short day, I will be on a flight to Ecuador, where I'll be residing for eight weeks in an indigenous Amazonian community. Hard to believe from where I'm sitting, on my bed, staring at my half empty suitcase and chaotic room. The disheveled state of my floors and dresser represents my brain's cluttered thoughts well. A few sentences that are continuing to surface include:
Before I leave, I want to present all the facts I have about my internship, my few expectations and pieces of advice I've been given. My internship will take place through an organization called Amazon Learning. They have helped to connect me with GIZ, the German international development agency. They are working on many projects in Ecuador, but their main goal is to protect the indigenous people and plants from the threats of climate change. To my knowledge, I will be having conversations with the indigenous population about their specialized knowledge regarding their seed health, and how their chakras, or traditional agroforestry systems have been changing with the climate. I will be living with a family of 5 children and 1 grandchild. I will have the opportunity to play soccer with the locals most nights, or instead to watch. I am going to eat a lot of rice and hard boiled eggs. I will undoubtedly get diarrhea (sorry, but I've been told so many times already, I couldn't leave it out). I will shower and wash my clothes in the river. I'll play hide and seek with children, and hold a lot of babies. I'll learn about the community's growing cacao tourism industry, and help welcome other visitors. I will wake up very early. I will sweat a lot. I'll feel awkward and out of place for a while. I am going to learn about myself, and about the kindhearted Kichwa people. The rest I can't predict, but can welcome with an open heart. I'm terrified, and excited, and am so grateful for this opportunity. And no, I'm not passing up the chontacuro. I know for a fact I can’t get gourmet worms in NOVA. |
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AuthorI'm a 21 year old university student, studying geography and food security, and spending a semester in Ecuador interning with Amazon Learning. ArchivesCategories |