¡A la miércoles los pastores, se acabó la Navidad!

The title of of this blog reads, "To the Hell with the Pastors, Christmas is Over!" For those of you who understand Spanish, you'll note the more "G-Rated" word substitution of miércoles in place of mierda, a common practice in Ecuador-speak. For my non Spanish-speaking readers, miércoles means "Wednesday", which is a word that conveniently begins with the same "mier-" as mierda, which is a much more inappropriate word that DOES NOT mean Wednesday; I'll let you look it up if you're curious enough! :-) Anyhow, the reference to the pastors comes directly from the bible's story of Christ's Mass, "The pastors, the pastors, they come to see the baby Jesus," which are highly celebrated around this time of year in Latin America.

It's the 25th of December, here I sit in a very warm upstairs room in Quito typing and jamming out to KoRn's brand new single, "Narcissistic Cannibal." Listening to KoRn takes me back to older days, the nostalgia sets in, but I haven't a single idea who the heck the featured groups in the song are, Skrillex and Kill The Noise. Is my age showing? Nonetheless, I'm well over Sarah Mclachlan's "Wintersong" and am ready to welcome in the New Year with some good old 90's Rock!

After getting some feedback on my last, rather skeptical, entry about Navidad, I decided, in honor of the season, that I shouldn't let my readers down entirely. In an effort to save some literary face, I gracefully came through, just a few days earlier, with a Christmas card to all of you, my loved ones, which contained honest and upfront personal sentiments. At the same time, I admit that I rather enjoyed replacing all of Santa's reindeer with animalitos of the selva. I hope you all got a chance to take a look at the card and read up a bit on Yachana's struggles as well. If you didn't get to look at the annual update, please follow this link, http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Happy-Holidays-from-Yachana-.html?soid=1102313672756&aid=AkjA-sqe1gw

Now, before we completely say adiós to the pastors, let me come through on another Christmas promise, telling you about the Navidad celebrations in Quito. Ecuador, like the majority of Latin American countries, is populated predominantly by followers of the Catholic Faith. What this means for Christmas is that many people here still adhere to holiday practices and traditions that are directly linked to the church and the birth of Jesus Christ. Those of you who know me know that I am far from religious, but that I am respectful of the beliefs of others and feel that we should all be free to choose whatever we wish to think or believe. As long as people are not hurting others, impeding or imposing, I think they should do as they wish in terms of this subject. As a secular, non-baptized and non-Catholic individual, I still enjoy observing the practices of the people and even participating in some.

One of my favorite traditions here in Ecuador, and one that I had the opportunity to see for the first time last December, is the displaying of pesebres, or nativity scenes. Just like in the states, where you find a Christmas tree in most every house, here you find a display of the scene of the sacred night in Bethlehem. The first time I saw the pesebres, some of them didn't have baby Jesus. When I asked where the baby was, I was promptly told, "No llega hasta el 25" ["He doesn't come until the 25th"]. Well, duh! :-) In the Cathedral and Convent of San Francisco de Asís of Quito (Saint Francis of Assisi http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_of_Assisi & http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_and_Convent_of_St._Francis) they display arounf one hundred Nativity Scenes, which are all enrolled in a competition. I'm not really sure what first place wins. I really enjoyed going to see these Nativity Scenes and I made two rather interesting observations: 1. Many of the pesebres were designed with depictions of the Holy Family as indigenous peoples and 2. The plaza where the San Francisco church is located is found right over the ruins of what was the palace of the Inca ruler Atahualpa. I'll let you be the judge of the significance of that historical point (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atahualpa).

I could lecture you on the injustice of the Latin American history and the Spanish Conquest, but I'd imagine you can figure it out for yourself. Anyhow, it's not very Christmasy to talk about how horrible it is that small groups of Spanish forces came and literally wiped out an entire continent of intelligent, well-developed and well-established civilizations of indigenous. Let me just say that I am at least slightly pleased to see the Holy Family being represented as indigenous in Nativity Scenes. It's not entirely justice, but there is some justice in that, I should say. Here are some of my favorite pesebres of that style:

Now you might be expecting me to write that in Ecuador they haven't fallen into the tragic commercialization of Christmas, that they still remember what Christmas is for and they aren't affected by any of the crazy gift-giving mania, but, unfortunately, I can't make that claim. Point in fact, Exhibit A:

Yes, that's a huge Coca-Cola Christmas tree (net) in relief filled with red and white balloons (photo enlarged for effect) smack dab in the middle of a plaza in the Historic Center of Quito, with the Virgin of Quito looking on in the distant background. I love and appreciate the irony of this photo! Unfortunately, just like most places in the world, Ecuador is not untouched by the sickness of commercialism that effects us all in the modern world.

I don't want to end this on a negative note, after all it is the Super Special Christmas Blog Exposé. I will tell you that I am skeptical in terms of the coming year, I have my doubts and worries as always. I continue to have my own interior conflicts that I wonder if I'll ever resolve, I find myself thinking about people and things that I've turned over in my mind since the start of this journey and blog. Myself aside, in a macro schema, I worry about what our world is coming to, pollution and its environmental impacts scare the hell out of me, wars continue to be fought, injustices are found around every corner. All of that and more, and yet, I still feel something inside of me telling me to fight. With a look at the micro schema, I see a group of kids from the Ecuadorian Amazon that are reading, writing poems, reflections and short stories, learning math and English and preparing themselves to better the world. What we are doing does matter and I'm not going to give up. I do have hope for humanity still; we must keep in mind that, while we aren't one race, culture, political party or religion, we are one people. We must not let the falseness of borders drawn on a map separate us literally. Pray, hope, dream, sing, yell, cry, bet and WORK for a better world, for a better society, for a better existence for everything and everyone this 2012.

¡Feliz Navidad! Happy Christmas!

It's beginning to look a lot like...humidity, more bugs and more humidity

 Deck the hammock with a Chris, relaxed and comfortable, swaying in the heat of the selva 

Many of you may be wondering, "Just how to they celebrate the Christmas holiday in the Amazon jungle?" Well, let me tell you, they pretty much don't. That's right, no Christmas insanity! Many of my readers are probably feeling sorry for me in this moment and wishing I had the chance to experience the traditional holiday procession,  but you're sympathizing with the wrong person if that's the case. I couldn't be more thrilled about the prospect of no Christmas catastrophes, no quilombos navideños, this year!

Yes! No "Jingle All the Way", no packed malls, no traffic, no worrying about what to get for Jon Doe's girlfriend's niece, no getting fat, no burnt cookies, no ringing bells, no tacky decorations (okay, so maybe there are some of those, I'll explain later) and, best of all, NO WHITE CHRISTMAS, ZERO SNOW OR ICE! Oh I'm thrilled, in case you couldn't tell. I'm sorry my people, but you just don't realize how insane it has all gotten with the commercialization of Christ's Mass. My words can't explain how liberating it is to be free of all of that and see it from the outside. Do you guys remember what Christmas is even about? Why do we go through all of that holiday insanity in the US? Well, while you're thinking about the true meaning of the holiday, I will be here, resting in my hammock and writing away.

Don't think that no Christmas mayhem means that the people here aren't happy, really it's quite the contrary. The thing is, people here are, in general, alegre (happy) and there's not really anything that they are missing in celebrating Christmas that would make them happier. Would buying a bunch of presents and gifting them make them happier? Not quite, what money are they going to use to buy all of these presents and what would they buy anyway? The nearest supermarket is about four hours away by canoe and bus. Do we need Christmas trees? We're surrounded by the Amazon Forrest. Christmas music? We've got Salsa, Merengue and Reggaeton, like always :-). I'll I want for Christmas is for the arenillas to quit biting me!

Here in the selva, people don't really need to use a holiday as an excuse to spend time with their family, they do that every day. Some of the practices that we try to employ during the holidays are things that should be common sense and take place year round. Here, they do. The holidays are a time for sharing, for being happy, for celebrating and for being with loved ones and relaxing? Like I've always said, life here is just more simple. Well, every day here in the selva we share food and other simple gifts, we celebrate life and the naturaleza, we work together, we spend time with each other and you can bet we relax. We certainly don't need to stress out about money and whether we'll have enough to gift material objects, we gift our compañerismo, our comradeship.

Just when I was beginning to think that there would be absolutely no earmarks of the western commercialized Christmas, I came upon quite a sight upon my return to the lodge, after the last break. As I walked up to the reception area, I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw horribly draped dancing lights around the desk, that awful plastic type of garland and the ugliest little LED Christmas tree I have ever laid eyes on. Well, I guess they felt like they had to satisfy any foreign guests we might have during the month of December. On second thought, the guests may be so appalled by the horrid sight of the adornment that they run all the way back down to the river and hop into the first canoe that passes by.

We have few days left in this academic session; we have a shortened term this time around for the coming holiday break. Instead of twenty one days, we are only in for fourteen this time around. At the end of this week, we will all be leaving Yachana and beginning a three week vacation, I know you envy me and I apologize :-). I have plans to go to, you guessed it, the great gran Quito. The holiday celebrations in Quito, and the rest of the sierra, are much different than those of the selva, but I will write about those later on this month.


Don't worry, I didn't do away with all of the Christmas traditions:
"Lake is frozen over, trees are white with snow, and all around reminders of you are everywhere I go...Merry Christmas, my love..."

Uff...1, 2 y 3...Respirá, encontrá tu serenidad y escribí (Breath, find your serenity and write)

            "Entonces [Daniela Báez] salió del automóvil envuelta con el abrigo hasta las orejas, y le preguntó al guardia en un francés perfecto dónde había una farmacia" (Márquez, "El rastro de tu sangre en la nieve").

            Jorge Luis Borges said, "Muchas cosas he leído y pocas he vivido," [I've read many things and lived few], this is exactly what I am trying to avoid in my life. I have read MANY things and I will keep reading, but I want to live much more and write about all of these experiences. Yachana and the selva are giving me stories and experiences to share for years, that's a big part of why I don't want to leave. When I go to Tena, native guides ask me if I am interested in a jungle tour and I tell them, "My life is a jungle tour." Today I was talking with a woman who mentioned that there was an insect exhibition at the Botanical Park of Quito. Guess what I told her, that's right, "My life is and insect exhibition."

Well, I have a question for you. If I receive absolutely no response, then I'll have my answer. Are you still reading this or am I writing to myself? I heard one time about a writer who held the belief that his work was somehow too good for people and that they didn't deserve to read it, so he didn't publish anything. I'm most definitely not that egotistical and I certainly see the value of having an audience. Writing for and to yourself is very valuable, but I also do have ambitions, not all ambition is bad, and I love to share my work and get feedback. I guess what I'm saying is the following: I, just like many people, would like to say that I don't care what others think, but I have enough sense and sensibility to know that that is not the true way I feel. We live off of "give and receive" in this world and I would like to know if what I am sharing socially is worth the cost, the time it takes you to read it. Time is also a commodity and I certainly hope that you aren't spending yours unwisely when you read what I write. I would like to know if you care to read about Ecuador, about Quito, Yachana, the selva, my woes, my sadness and my alegría (happiness), all from my perspective. Please leave a comment and I'll know, I won't change anything because that's just how I am, but I'll at least know. If not, I'll just keep writing to myself.

I know that the term "Drama Queen" ("teatrera" o "meladramática," en español) exists, but is there also a "Drama King" ("teatrero") and, if so, am I one? Here I am in Quito once again, feeling sorry for myself, once again. Maybe my drama is a little more real this time around, we had one hell of an academic term this November; it has been a little rough. We have had everything from discipline issues, which is to be expected with teenagers, to water problem, after water problem, after water problem. On the upside, we survived and we did much more than just that. I must confess that I am finding it a little difficult to write this time around, which would explain why I haven´t done it for such a long period of time. Well, here goes nothing, or "her" goes nothing (that's what I typed before realizing the error and correcting it, double meaning or simple error?)...

I have come to the realization that traveling alone is just no fun, big surprise right? Here's the thing, I love to be in the jungle, I can´t get enough of the work I do there and I even wear myself out on a daily basis, but it's amazing! There's always a new challenge, something different to discover, and I love being with my Yachana family in my home, the selva. After a term like the one we just had, I always say to myself, "I can't wait for our break," but, after just a couple of days of being away, I always find that I can't wait to get back to the selva and get back to work. You all know that I love Quito, I love the fact that I have a place to stay and relax and that Mónica treats me as if I were her own son, but it does get lonely here. Even though I'm a grown man, it still gets to me when I have to do things all by myself. For example, who wants to go to the movies by themselves? If you do, please leave a comment, I´d like to know what your perspective is on this. I do have friends here in Quito, but they are all older and have jobs and other obligations. In other words, I have no one to hang out with :-( I´ll teach you a new word in Spanish, desamparado, it basically means "helpless" or "abandoned". That´s why I wonder if I´m a Drama King, because that´s how I feel in Quito by my lonesome. I wish my conecshión was here with me right now. The ironic thing is that I told a student, after she expressed worrying about thinking too much, that you can never think too much, I am now eating my words. When you're alone and you have a lot of free time, it's very easy to think too much. I think about the past, future and present, old and new relationships, people I haven't seen in years, long lost friends, friends that are far away, think about family (I have a lot of those), think about sad things and worry a lot, and I think about writing everything that's in my mind...here we go: 

Now that I have gotten my customary "self pitying" paragraph out of the way, let me update you on my latest adventures. As I briefly mentioned earlier, the students were a bit difficult this time around. This group of students had never been in the high school with us before and we just didn't share the same level of connection as we did with the others. I do think this changed by the end of the session. They’re all great kids, but this group was a little "big headed" going into the term and they thought that they knew everything (what teenager doesn't?) or that they were somehow above the subjects. The sad thing is that they didn’t know it all, of course, and I worried a lot that they were getting behind the other students because of their over confidence. Many of the kids' responses to my questions were not well-developed nor thought out, but, if there's anything I've learned from teaching, you can't expect a perfect group every time. Every class is different and you will always see a different dynamic among different groups of students. One student can change the environment of an entire class. Even though I was facing these difficulties going into the term, I wasn't going to go down without a fight, I pressed on and I urged the kids to do the same! 

Since this was the first time we had this group, I revisited Motorcycle Diaries with them and we watched the film together. I'm not sure that these kids were as impressed or interested in this, but I can't really tell. It's not that this group is indifferent, but they just don't express themselves like the other kids do. This means that it's really hard to tell what they got out of the lessons. On the other hand, these kids read at an astounding pace, they seemed to really get into the books they checked out from the library and they showed an amazing passion for English learning. 

One thing that I did differently with this group was follow the Motorcycle Diaries on a map that I hand drew. For everyday of reading, I marked on the map, with a different color ink, how far we got. The photos explain themselves:

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

As you can see, we actually finished the book in just four short days, I was impressed.

Other points of interest:


1. If you get a chance, look up, “sangre de drago” (Dragon's Blood), it is considered a miraculous cure-all here in the Amazon. Check it out on wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragons_Blood I don’t know if it is as "miraculous" as some of the potions in Márquez' stories, but it does seem to have many valuable uses.  Any time I have some kind of ailment, the answer is always, "Sangre de Drago."

2. If you were getting bored with my blog, maybe this will help grab your attention! I wanted to mention, in case you haven't noticed, that our nutria (the baby amazon otter, Yaku Warmi) is growing a lot! She's beautiful, don't you want one for your own home?!

Savage attack otter mode!

Playing dead...

And I'm spent!

Yaku is kind of like a bug and she kind of reminds me of my friends' dog, who is actually named Bug. She's so cute, but her situation is a bit of a sad one. She is part of an otter species that is endangered, her mommy was killed and eaten, and she is fully domesticated now. The fact that she's domesticated means that she doesn't fish on her own and can't be reintegrated into the wild because the other otters would probably kill her or she would die of starvation. She'll just have to stick around Yachana, which is fine because she's just so damn cute! When she's lonely or hungry she squeaks constantly and it's so heartbreaking. 

3. Speaking of bugs, let's talk a little about my relationship at this point with the Amazon buggies, arenillas and sleeping under a toldo (a mosquito net). I know I have written about bugs before, but I just wanted to tell you that I have become friend of most jungle bugs, with the exception of a couple. In the "civilized world," I know it's a common reaction to kill any and every bug you come across, but, in the selva, we have just as much respect for them as we do for Yaku. The only bugs that I kill are the following: arenillas (these horrible, microscopic, sand flies that bite you, it hurts, and then itches like crazy! If you scratch, it leaves a mark for days and days. I still have some and I've been in Quito for almost a week), the Brazilian Wandering Spider (I only kill these guys if they're in my room and/or being very aggressive. They're the one's I told you about that can give you intense pain for 10-12 hours, cause impotency or a heart attack), sancudos or mosquitoes (for obvious reasons), and cockroaches (if I find them in my room, again, for obvious reasons, especially the flying ones that are the size of your fist). The rest of the bugs I admire, respect and leave alone. We maintain a live and let live relationship.
I also wanted to say that I'm becoming more and more lax about the whole toldo situation, it's really quite a pain sleeping with a net, it can be very hot and suffocating and tucking and un-tucking it is ridiculously tedious.A toldo can also have the exact opposite function that you want it to, if bugs somehow manage to get inside of it, they usually can't get out and that means that they're sleeping with you ALL NIGHT! None of the kids nor the people that live in the community sleep with a net. As a result of all of the annoyances, I have kind of stopped worrying about sleeping with the net as well. The only cases of Malaria or Dengue that I have heard of have come from areas outside of Yachana, I'm good to go!

4. I learned to fish in the Napo River. It actually feels pretty cool, I can officially say that I have been fishing in one of the Amazon rivers! Makes me think instantly to River Monsters on Animal Planet. Fortunately, my experience was not anywhere near as dramatic as that guy's. I learned that the perfect time to go fishing is when the river is subido (up) and the current is fast. We rode out in canoe, upriver, to an isleta  (the small island formations in the middle of the river, "islet," in English I believe), tried to tie up the canoe the best we could with rocks and we set to work. The most important part about fishing with a net is making sure that there is no basura (trash) in the net line. The basura can be anything from seaweed, to leaves, to sticks that the net picked up the last time it was used. If you have this kind of stuff in the line, the net will not open fully in the water and you're likely to not catch a thing. After you clean the net, one person goes upriver, río arriba, to throw the net out, and another waits downriver, río abajo, to catch the net. With any luck, you will eat fish for dinner. The first time that I went out to do this we did manage to catch something, a bunch of leaves and large branches. On the other day, the pesca (fishing) was much more successful; we caught around eight Bocachicos (Small Mouths)!

See why they´re called Bocachicos?

5. Thanksgiving Dinner in the jungle was a very interesting experience! The other volunteers developed a very good idea to share a little bit of North American culture with the students and prepare a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone. Of course, considering that we live in the selva, we weren't going to obtain traditional Thanksgiving ingredients. Here is how the substitutions panned out:
-Stuffing = mashed and fried plantain mixed with onions
-Turkey = chicken
-Mashed potatoes = mashed yucca
-Cranberry sauce = raspberry sauce with babaco
-Rice was added to the Thanksgiving tradition. We learned that you better not dare try to deprive Ecuadorians of their rice!

6. I learned that we are NOT, by any means, roughing it at the high school. How did I learn this? We took a day trip to an ecological reserve that is ran, in cooperation with Yachana, by a British organization known as Globalvision International. These poor people are the ones who are roughing it! They do not have a generator at all, they are limited to one shower a day because they pump water from a stream and they are all entirely eaten up by bugs! The experience at GVI was very interesting. We learned how they throw themselves in the middle of the monte (forage) to hunt for frogs to classify in the middle of the night, how they trap and classify butterflies and birds as well, and took some very interesting jungle walks. It was incredible to learn about the selva from a scientific point of view and to learn the importance of all of the things it has to offer in terms of scientific research.

I'm sure I had other things that I wanted to write, but I find myself a bit tired. I'll just leave you with saying that I've gone fishing for new ideas...

Is your Heart Filled with Pain, Shall I Come Back Again? (Plus a Bombshell)

Please forgive me now if this entry is very self-centered, maybe I am feeling sorry for myself or a bit egoistic. 

I'm listening to Elvis as I begin to write this latest blog entry, "Jailhouse Rock," "That's Alright Momma," "Are You Lonesome Tonight?", no seriously, are you lonesome tonight? I would explain why I'm listening to Elvis, but most of you will already get it, that's just Chris being Chris. Anyhow, I noticed that I provoked a little bit of polemic by posting the last time in Spanish, you can use Google Translate for that by the way, so I thought it was high time I post the latest update in English and let you all know how things have been going. There's been an extremely exciting amount of news coming in and out in the last few weeks; I myself have a bombshell to drop on you as well, but I plan to hold off until the end of the entry to tell you. Have to maintain reader interest right? Stop scrolling down right now! 

Now let's see, my best friend in the whole world, Nick John Wilson, is getting married! I spoke with Lesley for a few hours and was assured that I would be disowned if I don't make it to the wedding. Don't worry, I wouldn't miss it even for a culebra (snake) bite. The Flurkeys are doing well, but Bill is not liking his classes :-( Don't worry guys, the semester is just about over! My momma seems to be doing alright as well, I miss her and I know she has a lot on her plate. Know that I'm thinking about all of you and wishing I could help with my physical presence, but it's not possible. I also found out that I have several visitors coming! My best friend from Argentina, Branko Gueper will be coming down in January, I will be seeing the Holleys in December and Daniface will be here! 

When I talked to Lesley, she mentioned that I seemed sad a lot, and the truth is that I do feel sad sometimes, but that has to do with other factors that I'm not quite ready to discuss. Most of you will already know why it is anyway. On the other hand, apart from my occasional bouts with sadness or depression, which have always been common mediums in my life, I'm happier than ever. I will tell you that I have never felt more content with an occupation than I do with the work that I am performing here and now. I feel like what I am doing, for the first time in my life, is really making a meaningful difference. For the first time, I am working not to make money for me or help some enterprise or institute make more money. I'm working, among other things, so that these kids have a better future, so that the community is enriched and so that we can do our small part to save the rain forest. I feel incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity and I won't be letting it go easily. It's been awhile since I could say that I am proud of myself, hold my head up high and know that I'm doing what's right. Now I just need to get the rest of my personal life together! My media naranja is missing and I hope she will accompany me in this journey.    

I made it back safely to Mondaña and I feel like I'm right at home again. Why do I torture myself by leaving every month?! If you would like to read a little about how my trip went, just translate the last blog entry. On the other hand, that's also a story so it has a lot of fictional elements. In short, the trip was about normal, I had a few things happen that made it kinda suck, but that's life. In the end, I'm back in my querida selva, beloved jungle. It has been a little hot, but manageable. Today we have had rain non-stop and I love it. It started last night and hasn't stopped! 

This is the first time I have had the group of students that are at the school now. They seem to be great kids, they're all great kids, but we are still getting to know each other since we haven't spent an extended amount of time together until now. I am recycling the lessons that I used from the first term so that all of the students get the same material and are all on the same page. These students are older and a little more advanced, so I have modified the lessons a little bit. On a side note, I went from listening to Elvis to Journey, "Separate Ways" right now. 

I let Debbie Flurkey know that, although I have pretty slow net for Skype or anything like that, I can still easily receive email. So, if you wish to write me, send me a mail at cbaumunk@sycamores.indstate.edu and I'll write back, just like the old days! Thanks to Deb, I have some new materials to incorporate into my teaching, I already used the "Parts of Speech Poem," it was great. Speaking of grammatical points, if you've noticed that my English is worse, I do apologize, I've been mostly at full Spanish for three months now, oh well. "Hey man, I'm alive, I'm taking each day a night at a time," sings Bon Jovi blaring out of my computer speakers. 

Things have started slow, like usual at the beginning of all of the sessions up to this point. I don't have many new things to tell you about the selva except that she is as beautiful as ever; I know I don't post many pics, but maybe Dani can help me with that when she comes in December. I have been getting better connected to the community and I try to go down often to get to know everyone. This place is really small and it takes quite a but of time for the community members to get used to you and no longer see you as an outsider. I have been here for going on two months and I still haven't gotten to that point. I have, on the other hand, gotten close to a handful of people and they are just incredible. What else can I say, but that the latino, selva, way of life is tranquila (tranquil), simple and incredible. Once the people trust you and know you, they treat you like family. I have been trying to do my part. Apart from my duties at the school, carrying (provisions) and working with the kids, I have also been sitting in on English classes every Tuesday and Wednesday in the community and helping with the construction of a new house. 

With the kids, I have been doing a "quote of the day", so if you have any favorite quotes you think I should use, please let me know. Today I also asked them a very important question, but not many had an answer. ¿Por qué existimos? Why do we exist? I really don't have an answer either...thoughts?

Okay already, I will finish with my big piece of news. Please don't freak out, and remember, I will always love you all. I realized that I am entirely in love with the Amazon, I love what I am doing and have never felt better, I am incredibly inspired and I don't want to leave this place for a while. I have decided that I am going to begin looking into how a more permanent position can be organized for me here in the selva. I want to at least graduate the groups of students that we have right now. That means two more years, and then we'll go from there. This means many things: I would be establishing my residency here, I will, of course, travel and visit all of you during my breaks, I will be at Nick and Hilary's wedding in October, but my home will be here and you will have to come and visit me in the selva. There it is, there's the bombshell. I'm sorry, but I'm a coward and I thought this would be the easiest way to break the news to everyone at once without being confronted one by one! :-) Please register your complaints directly here, with cbaumunk@sycamores.indstate.edu, www.facebook.com/cbaumunk or wait till I'm in Quito to call and yell at me (that will be towards the end of November).       

Regreso al oriente con prisa lenta…

           La última vez que subió a la ciudad, le fue bastante mal. No tenía con quien hablar, se sentía solo, triste y nostálgico. Quería estallarse, pero no había como y no valía. Quizás fue por eso que le fue tan horrible, que no durmió, no comió y sentía fuertes ganas de vomitar en el colectivo. Pues, al llegar, ya estaba listo para volver.

            Las cosas no se mejoraron mucho en la ciudad tampoco. Era la primera vez que andaba verdaderamente solo en esa tierra extranjera y lo sentía mucho. Se dio cuenta de que, realmente, no importaba mucho, podría haber estado un montón de gente y se habría sentido igual. La ciudad era reconocible, pero era diferente, ¿o era él el diferente? Esa época simplemente no fue suya y punto.

            Sabía que el volver al oriente le haría bien, pero no esperaba que el tránsito fuera tan bárbaro. Él sabía que lo iba a joder solito, pero quería volver igual y tenía que subir al colectivo a las dieciséis en punto, en Cumbayá. Tenía que ser temprano, no entendía bien por qué. A la vez, andaba suficientemente tranquilo. Estaba por dejar atrás la ciudad fría, la locura de ella, la contaminación, la “bulla,” como decían ahí (contaminación auditoria), y el “quilombo,” como decimos en Argentina. Ya sentía muchas ganas de estar en su querida selva y relajarse allí.

            Sabía que se sentiría mil veces mejor al llegar a casa, a verla a ella y al trabajar tranquilo. Tenía, como siempre, muchas cosas en la mente; pensaba en las vacaciones de Navidad, en el pasado, en el futuro y todo lo que implicaba lo que estaba sucediendo en el presente. También se preguntó, “pienso demasiado, ¿verdad?” La gente andaba bastante feliz; era feriado y la ciudad de la boca de la selva estaba repleta, a full. Él pensó, en ese momento, que era interesante como había perdido algunas cosas de su cultura de pibes y tierras gauchas, pero ganado tantas de esa magnífica tierra amazónica de la mitad del mundo.

            Él llegó a tiempo, a las dieciséis, el colectivo, sin embargo, se demoró media hora más. Fue bárbaro subir al cole que salía de la ciudad y ver que era el mismo de antes, con el mismo conductor y ayudante de la última vez. No le fue tan mal como esperaba.  Llegó rápido, charlando con su nuevo amigo conductor. A llegar, quería festejar en la ciudad con la demás gente, pero no lo sentía lo suficiente y se pasó a dormir en un lugar que le había ofrecido tan amablemente. Se acostó, escuchando la farra desde la ventana. No pudo dormir, se quedó despierto, queriendo estar en medio de la joda y andar feliz como todo el mundo. Sin embargo, no conocía a casi nadie en esa ciudad nueva y ¿quién le invitaría? Ya le habría enojado a su única amiga ahí.

            Al final, durmió poco más que un par de horas, madrugando con añoranza de baile y joda bonaerense. Se marchó temprano, buscando un lugar donde desayunar, pero, más que eso, buscando cómo resolver la estupidez que había hecho la noche anterior. Comió, trataba de tranquilizarse, pero no resultó de mucho. Llamó una vez más, eso después de haber desayunado en el único café que conocía. No estaba, o, por lo menos, no contestó. Él estaba ya lo suficiente preocupado, pero de gana porque lo hizo todo él mismo. Pues era con razón, había dicho algo bien estúpido la noche anterior. No podía hacer nada, ya fue ya está.

            Se sentía inútil y tonto por lo que hizo y por el hecho que no podía corregirlo, pero tenía que marcharse. Su último chance de salir de la ciudad de la boca selvática se iba en el colectivo de las once y él tenía que estar ahí. La selva lo llamaba en voz alta. Fue raro, al inicio, volver solo a la comunidad. Pensó que iba a reconocer a gente en el colectivo o, por lo menos, al llegar a la comuna, pero no ocurrió. O sea, vio a un par de conocidos, pero nadie que se sentaría a conversar un rato con él. Se dio cuenta de que estaba siendo estúpidamente melancólico, deprimente y melodramático, realmente. No tenía que molestarse tanto; sí, pensaba demasiado. Como dijo ella, “todo con su tiempo…”         

La muerte recalentada (Death Warmed Over)

            In Ecuador, like much of the rest of the world, they have been adapting, more and more, western holidays and practices like Halloween. When I was here at Christmas time, I noticed that a lot of the familiar and horrible commercialism of the holiday season that consumes the North American country is, unfortunately, catching on quite a bit here. They already have the Christmas merchandise out in the stores and they´re putting up the huge Christmas tree outside of El Jardín shopping center. That being said, the original celebrations and traditions are still hanging on, if only by threads. This isn’t necessarily the case in the entire country, but it’s very much apparent in Quito. I haven’t been able to observe enough in the jungle to judge, but I think that they are definitely sticking to the customs of Ecuador and their people much more than to the Yanqui practices.

I’m sure many of you have heard of the Day of the Dead, Día de los muertos or Día de los difuntos, which takes place on the 2^nd of November. The holiday in Ecuador is celebrated with one of my new favorite practices, the serving up of colada morada (a blood-red cocktail juice made of many different marvelous ingredients) with guaguas de pan (bread made in the form of an infant). For the English-speaking reader, be prepared for a vocab lesson, colada morada contains the following: harina de maíz (corn flour), moras (blueberries or raspberries), frutillas (strawberries), babaco (no idea of the translation), mortiño (no idea), naranjilla (no translation), piña (pineapple), panela (brown sugar), azúcar (sugar), canela (cinnamon), ishpingo (no trans., like cinnamon), pimienta de dulce (sweet spice), cebrón (?), hierba luisa (lemon verbena), hoja de naranja (orange leaf), cuatro o tres hojitas de durazno (peach). Most of the fruits are chopped up or liquefied and the entire concoction is warmed up over the stove. Don’t let the blood reference scare you away, this stuff is magically delicious! I have it from a credible source that the colada represents the blood of the difuntos (the deceased) and the guagua is the body, but also represents life (bread). If that info is inaccurate, by all means, feel free to consult Wikipedia.    

I’m on another week-long break; if you haven’t realized by now, I get a week off at the end of each month. I know, my life is ridiculously hard! J On the other hand, you try living, working and teaching in jungle conditions for three weeks, almost 30 days straight, without weekend breaks, and let me know if you can keep going without a breather. Don’t get me wrong, I miss the selva big time and I wish I was back right now; I think I’m falling in love with her.

You might be thinking to yourself, “Chris, get to the point, I want to know where the title of the blog comes in!” What the hell am I talking about in my title, “Death Warmed Over”? Let me tell you, warm colada, representing the blood of the dead, is exactly how I felt by the time I got to Quito after my most recent trip. Anyone want to make an incredible donation and buy me a car for here in Ecuador?! J When I got to Cumbayá, just outside of Quito, all I could think about was, “death warmed over, muerte recalentada, así me siento, that’s how I feel!”

First off, my trip from Los Ríos to Tena was not too bad; it was just your standard 3 hour trip at a max of 40 km/h over roads made of sizeable river rock. I was pretty tired during that trip, but I thought that I shouldn’t sleep so that I would sleep better later, in preparation for my trip to Quito from Tena. That’s what I get for thinking. On the bright side, when I arrived in Tena, I had a place to stay. I walked a few blocks to a room that was graciously offered to me by Lizbeth, a gesture that is way more than I deserve. The room is great, I love it! It fits me and my minimalist ideals perfectly; it has room for the bed, a small closet, a chair, a small table and two windows. That’s really all I need in life! Those of you who know me well know that I am being completely serious here. I left some things in the room and headed out to see if I might meet up with the other compañeros at their Hostel. After being told that they were out, I decided that I really needed a haircut.

Of course, before getting a haircut, I had to grab an ice cream; it’s a basic necessity when arriving to any city after leaving the selva. After a delicious waffle bowl of ice cream, a combination of dulce de leche with maracuyá (passion fruit, one of my favorites) and chocolate chips, I headed off to get my military cut. The lady in the peluquería (barbershop) was charming and cracked me up; she nearly refused to leave my head with as little hair as I requested. In Latin America, it is not customary for the men to lop off all of their hair. This is a serious subject! The men here really worry about their hairstyle. Let me give you a primary example. Every time that I’m in charge of getting the students into formation, who do you think are the last to arrive? If you think it’s the girls, you’re wrong. It never fails; I always catch a group of two or three guys surrounding the tiny single mirror in our bathroom and gelling up their tresses into rock-solid perfection. It’s quite a sight. So serious is the case that I often worry about the grave possibility of a major hair gel shortage in Latin America. Let’s hope, for my students’ sake, that that day never comes!

With my fresh buzz cut, I headed off to the Tena bus station to purchase my ticket for Quito; I opted for the 02:00 departure time. What the hell was I thinking? Later on that night, I sat down in a small restaurant called Café Tortuga and ordered a small coffee with a small piece of bread so that I wouldn’t feel guilty about occupying their net. I broke my first rule of pre bus travel, I drank liquid! After my coffee, I also enjoyed a large glass of tea, bad decisions that I would be regretting later on! My next bad decision came in the form of dinner. I met up with the compañeros and we decided to have tacos for dinner, a good choice, but not enough food for a 5 hour bus ride. The taco was good, but there was only one and I had way too much ají (hot sauce) with mine. This was all perfect prep for a terribly angry stomach.

I returned to the perfect little room and tried to grab a few hours of sleep before catching the bus at 02:00, I failed miserably at this task. I’ve been reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo for going on two months now and was anxious to finish it up finally, I also failed at that, but managed to keep myself up until 23:30 in the intent. My alarm went off at 01:45 and I had managed to sleep a total of one hour max, dreaming about the horrors of Dragon Tattoo. I dragged my sorry ass out of the perfect bed and the perfect room and out into the darkness of the madrugada (early morning). If I would have known the hell that awaited me, I would have thought again about just how bad I wanted to get to Quito.

I don’t think I have complained too much about traveling in Ecuador up until now, so forgive me for the whining* session that is to follow in these next paragraphs. (*Thinking about a certain reader, I opted to substitute in “whining” here for another word, but you can guess what word I would prefer and had originally written). I will continue to travel by bus because I don’t mind it, it’s economical and fairly practical, but this last trip just sucked. Here is a breakdown of my issues:

-Problem 1: The buses don’t usually have bathrooms and my tea and coffee started Mother Nature’s call about an hour into the trip (just under 4 hours left).

-Problem 2: I originally had two seats to myself when a rather large woman decided, out of all of the empty rows (with two empty seats), that she needed to sit next to me and stretch out, sleep and lean on me to the point that I was smashed against the window.

-Problem 3: I was starving and my stomach wanted to kill me for feeding it a single taco and extra hot sauce.

-Problem 4: I was not sleeping a damned bit.

-Problem 5: We reached the mountains and the crazy curves, speeding up and slowing down and the rapid change of temperature made me noxious to the point that I was looking, seriously, for a place to vomit.

-Problem 6: I was wearing my lonas without socks and a simple windbreaker and I was freezing to death with the mountain air.

-Problem 7: The situation of having to use the restroom had gotten to the point that it was making me even sicker of my stomach.

-Problem 8: They usually play decent music on the bus, but this driver had horrible taste and I wanted to smash his radio with whatever heavy object I could locate.

Now for my attempts (and fails) at resolving these problems:

-Solution/fail 1: I moved to another seat and tried to sleep in various positions, slightly stretched out, curled up or against the window, but nothing worked and I merely managed to achieve that my right leg fall asleep.     

-Solution/fail 2: I tried to bundle up my windbreaker and a pair of pants, that I had pulled out of my bag, as a pillow, but they didn’t turn out to be very comfortable and I needed to put on the windbreaker because of the cold.

-Solution/fail 3: I tried to remember what I had been told to do to get over nausea, but I couldn’t remember a thing. I thought you were supposed to put your head between your legs or something like that, but I decided that would look simply ridiculous and I think that’s for panic attacks anyway.

-Solution/fail 4: I tried to think about other things or other problems in my life to distract myself, but nothing seemed graver than that present vomit, sleep deprived and freezing situation.   

            In the end I decided to just think about how terrible I felt and feel sorry for myself. I adjusted the chair so that it was in the upright position, stared at the clock, embraced the fact that I was bound to puke sooner or later and thought about how great it would be to yell at the driver to turn off his radio before I ended it. The call of Mother Nature got to the breaking point and I pounded on the door separating me from the driver and his assistant. I told him that he could leave me on the mountain, but that I had to go one way or another. It really wasn’t his fault, how could he have known? Equally, I really didn’t care at that moment! Fortunately, the driver was kind enough to not leave me on the freezing cold mountain, I took care of business and we were able to be friends again. I sat upright feeling slightly better for the rest of the trip, but still unable to sleep and feeling considerably awful yet and still.

            I know that you’re going to say, “Christopher, you’re not old and you’ve got plenty of youth left,” but I sure felt like a very old man by the time I got to Quito. I know I’ve felt worse in other occasions, but I really couldn’t recall a single one of them in that moment. When I got to Carcelén, I crashed and stayed in bed until 13:00. I could have simply saved myself the torture and left Tena at a normal morning hour and arrived bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the same time I got done recovering from the 02:00 trip, ni modo…

            I don’t have much to say about Quito because I have already told you quite a bit about it. I do have one episode that I would like to relate; it was a brand new experience for me and it was a bit terrifying once I realized what it was. I mentioned in the previous paragraph that I crashed when I got to Carcelén, this was almost written in a literal since; I almost crashed down with the entire house. Just as I was preparing to lie down, the room that I was in began to shake, a lot. My first thought was that someone was using some heavy machinery outside (Carcelén is an industrial district) and I also thought that someone could be running up the stairs. I proceeded to plug something in, then I thought, it’s still shaking and who the hell would be running up the stairs when I’m alone in the house? Then it registered in my mind, “Shit, un temblor, un maldito temblor”! It was a tremor; I took off running, down the stairs and out the front door of the house. It was over before I got to the door, but it scared the hell out of me nonetheless. I was very hesitant about reentering the house and waited outside for about 5 minutes. That was the first tremor I have ever experienced. I don’t know if what I did was right, I didn’t know what to do, but all I knew was that I was getting the hell out of the house. Later, I was informed that the whole ordeal only lasted about 5-6 seconds, but it felt like a minute at least. I think I’ll do some research on the new rules for reacting to earthquake emergencies.   

I´d Give up Forever to Touch You Because I Know that You Feel Me Somehow

Ever said to yourself, "If I could just have a net connection for 5 minutes, I would be so happy"? That's how I've felt most of this week and I am taking advantage of a bit of time that I seem to have a connection to write since I haven't been in contact with anyone for about two weeks now. I do apologize, but please keep in mind that I'm in the middle of the Amazon and the fact that I have a connection, even occasionally, is a miracle of science in itself. I hope you are all well and that life is treating you right. It's really just no fun when things are on the down and out.

These last days have been "so so" for me, or maybe that's just how I'm feeling today. Really it is hard to tell. The case is that life is, simply put, a roller coaster. For those of you who have never lived abroad, take a look at the following diagram and you'll understand a little better what I mean:



That diagram is created with study abroad in mind, but it works for living and working abroad too. I'll let you be the judge of which stage I am in, keep in mind that you can go back and forth between stages.

When I last had the chance to write, I had recently returned to the high school and I, along with the other volunteers and the staff, found things in "interesting" conditions. It's been a long time coming, but our freezer, which ran on propane, froze its last piece of carne (meat) just before the end of our last session. When we got back, we still had that great white beast sitting in the kitchen, mocking us with its inability to cool a single thing. It is, yet and still, occupying the space there and being used as glorified counter space. Apart from that, for reasons I won't get into, we had no cook, the facilities (pipes, water, showers, floor boards, etc.) have all been slowly deteriorating from the get go and we have arrived at a frustration point with the internet and other forms of communication problems. Don't let me exaggerate too much; as I keep reminding myself, we are in the Amazon after all. On the other hand, these small issues, which are really basic necessity faults, have been problematic and stress causing. If anyone reading this with a bit of pull and a desire to help with some kind of donation, has an idea of how to make a freezer arrive at this end of the jungle, please don't hesitate in writing me and letting me know. Nonetheless, we are getting along here and I am slowly seeing many of these problems getting resolved. I am, of course, doing my best to help the progress along as well. I did the 100 hour oil change on our generator just the other day. For lack of a better tool, I used a pipe wrench to remove the oil plug and, miraculously, didn't strip the nut.

Apart from those problem areas, things have been going as smoothly as they can. For my part, I have found it to be a little difficult getting back to work after a week off. I must confess that I have felt more than a little lazy during the last week of teaching and work. This doesn't mean that I have been working or teaching any less, on the contrary, I have been putting an extra effort forward and doing my damnedest to keep things on track. For my Spanish-speaking readers, I reference one of my favorite citations by Jorge Luis Borges, “Como ser humano, soy una especie de antología de contradicciones, de gaffes, de errores, pero tengo sentido ético. Eso no quiere decir que yo obre mejor que otros, sino simplemente que trato de obrar bien y no espero castigo ni recompensa. Que soy, digamos, insignificante, es decir, indigno de las dos cosas. El cielo y el infierno me quedan muy grandes” (pag. 29, texto #13).

During this week alone, I have organized an entirely new library of over one-hundred books, in Spanish, donated graciously by Mónica, whom I have spoken of in other blog entries. I have each one of my students reading a book on there own, which is a big deal for these kids. They will, hopefully, finish the books by the end of this three-week session and write up a short 1-2 page book report over them. I´m really anxious to see how they do with this work and I really hope it turns out well. In class, we have been looking at how to write a book report, how to read well, looking for certain information, and how to develop an opinion based on and about what you have read.

We have also been reading, together, Pasajes de la guerra revolucionaria (Passages of the Revolutionary War) by Ernesto Guevar de la Serna. As I wrote before, In the last session, we read Diarios de motocicleta, and I considered it to be of utmost importance that the students see the complete story of "Che". He was not only a young idealist who set out to change the world, but also a Comandante (Commander) of the armed revolutions in Cuba, The Congo and Bolivia, where he was killed by Bolivian forces who were trained by and had the backing of the CIA. As Comandante Guevara, Ernesto was responsible for the deaths of many enemigos, traidores y desertores de la revolución (enemies, traitors and deserters of the revolution) and I wanted the students to see that side of the story as well so that they may form their own, well-informed, opinion later. Make no mistake, Ernesto did change the world, I´ll let you decide on weather he did it appropriately or not.

I'm having a fantastic experience as I'm writing this blog entry, "el ataque de la abejas del sudor," little sweat bees that don't sting, but love to swarm you when your sweating and sitting still. I've got about ten of them encircling my head and typing hands right now. They are driving me incredibly insane! The reason I am sweating so much is because it hasn't rained for going on seven days now and the temperatures have been going up to a cool mid to upper nineties every single friggin day! The sun has been baking everything to a crisp, including me. If anyone knows any good rain dances, please send them my way because I will seriously go out and dance in the downpour. I know it sounds like I am constantly complaining about the weather here, but, firstly, I'm from Indiana and that's what we do and, secondly, if you were here you would understand. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish that I were in Indiana right now, I know that it's starting to get cold and you all have another lovely deep freeze coming soon. I'll keep my hot and miserable jungle weather, thank you very much. At least here it never snows or freezes, even less so than our non-functioning freezer.

To tell you a little about other goings-on here at Yachana, we went to Los Ríos on Thursday and bought víveres (provisions) for the week. If you have me on Facebook, you can see some pictures of this event. Basically, the trip involves carrying propane tanks (3-4) to the canoe and upriver to exchange them for recharged one and buying other food and supplies that we need for the week. This takes place every Thursday because that´s the day they have the market in Los Ríos. Yes, I too carry tanks and other supplies. I try to do my best to share the burden of this type of work with the students and the jungle is doing its part to condition me for this work. I´m, slowly but surely, acquiring a little of that strength that I wrote about the students having before. I guess I´m not so old after all. For myself, I bought some Venus Lonas, which are these really neat shoes that are made in Ecuador and only cost me six dollars. They´re blue and white and made of a material that drys out very fast, ideal for jungle life and I love them. I looked all over for shaving cream as well, but couldn´t find it anywhere. Fortunately, someone gifted me a can so that I don´t run around looking like one of Che´s barbudos (hairy men).

En fin, we are about midway through Pasajes as well as midway through the drought. I would like to finish up with the book as soon as possible so that we can have a movie night and watch the very well-made, two-part, film, Che: El Argentino, by director Steven Soderbergh http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0892255/ with Benicio del Toro as Che. If you haven´t seen it, I highly recommend it. It´s a bit long, but a very good and accurate depiction of the true events. I want you all to know that I´m thinking a lot about you and hope that you are doing the same. I have some days, or nights, when I feel very much alone and isolated, and I really wish that I had my dear friends near. I know that you are with me and for me, but you´re not here physically and that is damned hard to cope with at times...

Thinking of you always, un abrazote, big hug,

Christopher Mackenzie