A Splendidly Normal Day

As of Tuesday I have been here exactly a month. I arrived in Ecuador August 16^th and Tuesday was September 16^th. So to celebrate I had a normal day. Because being here a month can make a day normal. I got to sleep in a little because class didn’t start until 10am. My second bus ride actually took like ten minutes when it usually takes thirty (and when Monday it took an hour) so that was nice. It meant I got to school like thirty minutes early and got to bop around, get coffee, drink coffee, chat with people, and still get to class a bit early. Weaving is super fun, but Tuesday in weaving was a disaster because we learned a new technique that I could not figure out. Like at all. Like I think I spent an hour of the 90min class staring at my yarn. I mean the girl next to me couldn’t get it either (it’s not just me, I promise), so we just sat there and started at our yarn together, and then at the end of class packed up and hoped for better next time (next time turned out a lot better, so I’m not a total weaving failure). Then I went to archeology where I had a quiz that I think went alright and then got completely lost in the lecture. Then I had lunch with two of the K students and practically fell asleep in my rice and chicken so I went home and relaxed and procrastinated on homework, took a little nap, ate dinner chatted with my host mamagramma, did my homework and went to sleep. It was a special day where nothing extremely special happened. And parts of it were kind of boring and parts of it were hilarious. And it was great. It was a normal day.   

The museum!

more muesum!

Saturday, however, was not such a normal today. I woke up early to meet the Kalamazoo gals and other USFQ international students at a bus at 7am. From there we drove three hours to Salasaca, an indigenous town south of Quito. We got to go to the museum of Salasaca where they have life sized models of different traditional scenes and activities. These models were made by people living in Salasaca using only traditional techniques and resources taken from their history.  They were very beautiful. From there we rode in the back of a pickup truck for about twenty minutes up a bumpy dirt road on the side of a mountain (I could literally look up into the mountainside on my right and down into a valley on the other). We had the honor of witnessing a sacred cleansing ceremony, then we were back in the truck. We learned how women take this white paste-type-stuff off cactus-looking plants that they later use for dye. When squeezed, the white paste turned purple. They use this dye for their ponchos. These ponchos take about six months to make and are priceless in these communities. We later had lunch. I ate guinea pig.

riding in the truck

Cuy! (aka guinea pig)

 It kind of tasted like chicken but with a ton of bones, so I spent most of my time tearing it apart with my hands. I was hungry. Guinea pig is a delicacy in Salasaca and only eaten a few times a year, so we were very lucky to all be able to try it. We then walked around outside and were able to learn more about the poncho-making process, religious dances, and a juice they ferment in a giant plant to make into alcohol. I tried some, but all I could taste was the metal spoon it was in. There is a lot of beauty and history in the community, but one of my favorite parts was the landscape. I couldn’t start staring at the mountains and hills and trees and clouds around us. On the drive home I fell asleep, but woke up to a rainbow. I tried and failed to take a picture of it.

rainbow! (sorta)

super cute little girl holding a cat

To end, I want to leave you with a story from Friday (going backwards here—woops). So Friday morning I woke up and was not looking forward to going to weightlifting because I wanted to keep sleeping, but I got up anyway because I knew I needed the exercise (oh yeah I’m in weightlifting! I kind of suck, but I’m learning and am getting the hang of it. I also have a bruise on my collar bone from the bar so basically I have a battle scar so I’m cool). So I was getting ready and realized it was cloudy and rainy outside. Gross. I left my house a little before 8am.  I got on my second bus at about 8:20. Seats on the bus can be hot commodities if you’re traveling during rush hour, and I got one of the last seats, so I felt accomplished. But then there was an old woman standing right next to where I was sitting because there were no more seats, and so I gave her my seat (which is good because it would have been more painful to sit during that entire ordeal of a bus ride and watch her stand). So like I said, it usually takes twenty to thirty minutes to get to USFQ once on the second bus. Well we got ten minutes into the bus ride ad moved probably about ten feet, and I knew I wasn’t going to make it to my 9am class. Usually the bus ride to USFQ is especially jolty and much of my energy is spent trying to stay standing while trying not to look like a complete foreigner who is trying to stay standing. This bus ride, however, was so slow that I did now have to hold onto anything. I could just calmly stand. For over 90 minutes. My knees kind of froze into place. And since it was raining, the bus was all condensation-y and super hot. My entire Kalamazoo group ended up texting each other about how we were all stuck in traffic. I bonded with the people around me on the bus. At one point, a woman with a toddler-aged little girl got off the bus while we were sitting on the highway, walked to the side of the road, held her daughter in outstretched arms, and let her poop into the plants. She then calmly jogged back onto the bus and while walking back on, everyone was smiling and kind of chuckling and she said, “Well that was easy.” The whole bus boded in this little girl’s ability to poop in this tiring morning commute. So I got to school at 10am, ended up not having to go to weightlifting after all (because I completely missed it), bought a delicious ham and egg bagel, and got ready to go to Spanish class. It then became a normal day. Now I have to get ready for tomorrow, which I’m hoping is a splendidly normal day.

landscape in Salasaca

more landscape in Salasaca

Normal days are splendid because I get to be near this and it's like normal.