I've now been in Salasaca for slightly over a week. Good news: I actually have some vague semblance of a project here! Bad news: I continue to be a bit of an emotional wreck. Between the craziness of life here and the realization that, as of today, I have been alive for two decades has thrown me into a bit of an existential crisis.
I'm living here with Andrés Jeréz and his family. He is a weaver, a local politician, an organic farmer, and is currently in the process of trying to start his own community tourism project. Basically, my life here consists of following him around, taking notes on all that he says and does, and praying that we'll start weaving soon. His family is really nice in a still not actually my family sort of way, and I'm hoping the next week goes smoothly before I return to Quito and start writing.
So, as I mentioned, today is my 20th birthday. I'm lonely. This is, oddly enough, the first birthday in my entire life that I've spent away from my family, and I'm taking it kind of hard. My Ecuadorian birthday festivities have included: climbing a sacred mountain in search of medicinal plants and natural dyes, a dinner of blood soup and rabbit roasted over an open fire, and an herbal cleansing ritual happening tonight. It's certainly been memorable, but I can't help still being a little sad. Even my Ecuadorian horoscope in today's paper chastised me for not appreciating my travels enough and being glad for how lucky I am for this whole experience. I really have had an amazing time here, but I'm also to the point where I'm getting really ready to be home and return to some normalcy again.
20 more days.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
ISP Part 1: My Life is a Mess
So funny story. I'm currently sitting in Baños homeless for the night while I wait for my new ISP project to come through after the failure that was last week. I will explain. Here is my life up to now:
The last week in Quito was a crazy whirlwind of homework, canelazo, tests, friends, dancing, fried foods, and emotion. We finished classes, everyone freaked out about just about everything, and ISP plans were solidified. Instead of the original plan in Salasaca, it was decided that I would go to this other little village instead. Chibuleo was smaller and more isolated with a different indigenous group, but it was supposed to have a ton of opportunities to learn artesanía, a strong women's movement, and people who really wanted to work with me.
False.
I arrived in a teeny, tiny little pueblo to live in a teeny, tiny little house with Serafina and her two sons (ages 11 and 13). I basically spent 5 days wandering around, being pointed at and laughed at by the locals, hanging out with sheep and pigs, being repeatedly made to feel guilty about my presence in their house, crying a lot, and being told repeatedly that artesanía pretty much does not exist in Chibuleo. I mean, with the exception of the one weaver who lived 1.5 hours walking away who could help me for a day. Fail. After lots of phone calls and unhappiness and confusion, now I am waiting. An indigenous lawyer friend of the directors (who gave one of our talks in class) is apparently in the area and hooking me up with his artisan friends in Salasaca, so I'll actually have something to study. We were supposed to meet up this afternoon, but he's busy and can't come until tomorrow.
I came to Baños because it's easier to overshoot Salasaca by bus and then return then go straight there with current construction stuff and Chibuleo's general isolation, but it turns out I'll be here for the night. I'm going to use this time to "replenish my spirit" as Fabian told me during our 8th phone call in 4 days. Basically, I'm going to enjoy this beautiful city, read in parks, eat good food, maybe get a cheap Ecuadorian massage, and probably spend the night with a bottle of wine and a movie in my cute little hostel room. All while trying to forget that I'm actually supposed to be working on my ISP right now and that I'm losing valuable time, not that I'm in control of the situation...
I think this is the one time where they really didn't tell us just how hard this experience is. It's lonely and depressing and profoundly frustrating. I'm praying that this new project works out and gets me into a better place, because it's going to be a long few weeks otherwise...
The last week in Quito was a crazy whirlwind of homework, canelazo, tests, friends, dancing, fried foods, and emotion. We finished classes, everyone freaked out about just about everything, and ISP plans were solidified. Instead of the original plan in Salasaca, it was decided that I would go to this other little village instead. Chibuleo was smaller and more isolated with a different indigenous group, but it was supposed to have a ton of opportunities to learn artesanía, a strong women's movement, and people who really wanted to work with me.
False.
I arrived in a teeny, tiny little pueblo to live in a teeny, tiny little house with Serafina and her two sons (ages 11 and 13). I basically spent 5 days wandering around, being pointed at and laughed at by the locals, hanging out with sheep and pigs, being repeatedly made to feel guilty about my presence in their house, crying a lot, and being told repeatedly that artesanía pretty much does not exist in Chibuleo. I mean, with the exception of the one weaver who lived 1.5 hours walking away who could help me for a day. Fail. After lots of phone calls and unhappiness and confusion, now I am waiting. An indigenous lawyer friend of the directors (who gave one of our talks in class) is apparently in the area and hooking me up with his artisan friends in Salasaca, so I'll actually have something to study. We were supposed to meet up this afternoon, but he's busy and can't come until tomorrow.
I came to Baños because it's easier to overshoot Salasaca by bus and then return then go straight there with current construction stuff and Chibuleo's general isolation, but it turns out I'll be here for the night. I'm going to use this time to "replenish my spirit" as Fabian told me during our 8th phone call in 4 days. Basically, I'm going to enjoy this beautiful city, read in parks, eat good food, maybe get a cheap Ecuadorian massage, and probably spend the night with a bottle of wine and a movie in my cute little hostel room. All while trying to forget that I'm actually supposed to be working on my ISP right now and that I'm losing valuable time, not that I'm in control of the situation...
I think this is the one time where they really didn't tell us just how hard this experience is. It's lonely and depressing and profoundly frustrating. I'm praying that this new project works out and gets me into a better place, because it's going to be a long few weeks otherwise...
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