a bit of reflection

Jan 16

I wanted
the words to come to me, I wanted
to speak the language
that everyone else spoke. I wanted
to keep myself and
become them
like the last hints of sun
against tide, rising. I wanted
to wake up and fit into the size
of my new life. I wanted
to be as graceful as the blue slivers of boats
that bow to the sea at days end. I wanted
to bounce all my prayers off
the hard stone of some cathedral, lose
my mind in Hail Marys and
wake up sure that
it was all as it was supposed to be.


Life Continues in Palmar

I have now been in Palmar four and a half months and in Ecuador nearly seven. An entirely new year has begun and what can I even begin to say about the strangewonder of it all. These past seven months have been chuckfull of triumphs and blunders to the say the least- all contributing to the great cycle of continued learning that I am always spinning in. I mostly focus on the bright shiny side of this crazy experience rather than the disheartening days or all the ways that I have managed to muck things up before I got them right. And believe me, I have got some pretty great tales to tell on the subject of How Hannah Screws Up Yet Again. Adapting to a new culture is full of failures, ( most of which are pretty funny and I’d be happy to tell you about them in person over coffee or I don’t know, scotch). But the triumphs, the moments of clarity and sense of purpose are what I want to share with you now- If you are nice enough to bother entertaining these ramblings, I would like to offer you something hopeful.
So here is my moment of reflection-
I realized New Years last year after welcoming 2007 with hundreds of beautiful children in Honduras that I needed to make a change and take a risk. I returned to the states and filled out the application to join the Peace Corps. I had no real intention of actually pressing that Send button- but the darn internet makes things so accessible that one bleak January morning I thought to myself, “what the heck”. Sometimes the first steps to change are as simple as taking a deep breathe and pressing a magical button. Of course all of the rigorous medical, dental exams/ legal crap/ selling my car/ moving out of my beautiful apartment/ saying good-bye to my family etc was, shall we say- a little less than magical. But I did it.
But first I cashed in my entire savings account to go to Spain for two weeks over Easter with a friend and his brother and walked 200 miles of the pilgrimage El Camino de Santiago. My two weeks as a pilgrim provided me with a clearer head, strengthened and better connected me to myself and God and gave me a swollen ankle, some serious blisters and some of the most beautiful memories which I am very privileged to have. On the day we arrived at the cathedral in Santiago, the destination of many pilgrims throughout history- Santiago where I saw the bones of Saint James, received my certificate of completion, drank the best glass of wine in my life and received the news that I had been waiting for: I was officially invited by the Peace Corps, Destination- Ecuador.
What did all that mean? I didn’t know. I just knew that my journey as a pilgrim, rather than ending at the bones of a saint, were only just beginning.
My mom took me to the airport. Plane from Appleton to Chicago. Chicago to Miami and then Ecuador. Physically walking away from my mom and my home was one of the hardest parts, just getting on that plane was hard... sitting down and putting on my seatbelt, fighting every urge to just run off the plane and go home.
Anyway— I stayed on the plane. I arrived in a new country. I survived 2 and a half months of intense training and the first months in my site. All of which were full of struggle and excitement. And now... seven months into my adventure, I feel that as my mother wrote me in a letter that she gave me as I boarded that first plane, that I am, “abundantly blessed”. And I feel very much like the photo that she enclosed in that same letter– a photo of this red-head on her tricycle, full of determination, fear and pure joy. I am ready to take on 2008.

New Years in Palmar

Here we burn the año viejo in the streets.
Strike a match

to this weary year and burn burn burn, sparks springing into the
mild darkness. Such quick death.

But, the heat and light
color our faces

Watching the glorious flame dissolve the
blackness and the past
disintegrates before our eyes.

There is no time to wonder about tomorrow and next month
No time to fool ourselves with resolutions, lofty ambition
Only to pay our respects to what has been.

To let it die in a loud spectacular display of firecrackers and gasoline soaked
dolls.

And afterwards the soft puddle of ash
a new day and all that we burned

The “some guys beat up van” taxi from montañita to palmar

( how I met my ecuadorian brother)

7 am new years day
Shake the sand from my hair

His tie-dye t-shirt has a sea horse drawn
on with permanent marker.
He’s 20, no he’s 15 at most.

We are packed in like a string of christmas lights
folded in just so
We are facing each other

I turn my head to stare out the window.
I crave sleep like water.

My eyes close and I don’t realize
Until the driver slams on his brakes.
Open my eyes to find his,

I realize we are not going to crash
and smile.
He smiles.
His face is so familiar to me and I smile again.

He says softly, “I love you”
with a sheepish kid grin.

I laugh and compliment his English.

He twists his hair
with his finger and we sit for awhile in
silence. He looks hard at my eyes, “tienes ojos
lindos”.
I tell him his eyes are beautiful too.

The van stops at Palmar and I wish
him luck in the coming year and climb out.

Pay the driver a dollar and the van
pulls away.

Sometimes, alone in this country
I find a sense of family in the strangest ways.

World AIDs Day and Baking Bread

So this past Saturday was December First which is World AIDs Day-- being that HIV/AIDS is a a growing concern particularly here on the coast we made sure paint the town red ( well, with bright red balloons and red ribbons anyway). A group of about 30 kids from our youth group showed up for our parade and carried signs and helped pass out information about what AIDS is, how we can protect ourselves and how we can reach out to people who are dealing with this devestating disease. The compassion and motivation shown by the youth in Palmar is amazing!

Here in Palmar there are still many people who don´t know what AIDS is or how to protect themselves and the youth is committed to getting the information out there and saving lives. It´s exciting for me to be able to be a part of their efforts.

There past two weeks I have also been participating in a baking class with the youth in my community in order to expand and improve our bakery sales. We are learning how to bake all kinds of breads, cakes and cookies and are going to have a big exposition of our work this weekend. YUM!

Well, I would love to write more but i gotta catch a bus back to palmar if I´m gonna make it to baking class on time! ( Thank goodness for the "hora ecuatoriana" because it´s okay to be late here!!)

thanksgiving day

Happy Day of Thanks!
My thanksgiving started early- I met my friend at 5:30am to run the length of the beach which takes about 40 minutes. We ended up at the end near barrio esteros where we walked around the inlet where the mangrave begins and watched the boats begin to come in to shore with the catch of the day. We walked further and climbed the huge moss-covered rocks---we looked for treasures--little sponges, shells, crabs, starfish and I held one creature in my hand that closes itself up with tiny tentacles. About this time with sun was nearly risen and the light had changed. Sun on skin. We climbed the highest rock and sat there beside three pelicans, humming bob marley songs and waving at the fisherman as they continued to arrive in rickety wooden boats with pealing paint and names like Santa Rita, Santa Carmen ( the patron saint of fishing), margarita etc....Climbing down the rock is always the tough part but i made it.

We walked back to the beach and got caught up in the chaos of every morning in palmar: the fishermen climbing out of their boats balancing red plastic boxes full of shinning, silver fish and the sea gulls and pelicans come in mass swooping down claws stretched to steal what they can. They dogs run wild torn fish dangle from their jaws as they pick fights with eachother for their breakfast. We drink morocho from plastic cups sold by a man and his bicycle wooden cart-- the warm milk with raisons, cinnamon and morocho warms my body and tastes like heaven. Alex goes out to the boats and returns with a plastic bag full of trumpet fish-- Meanwhile I have waded into the sea and realized that I was surrounded by hundreds of bright orange starfish- as though for a moment the sea had claimed the evening sky and I was walking through a strange galaxy.

We returned to my house to clean the fish and then I had a game of beach soccer. The whole town was out on the beach with big speakers blasting the sounds of don omar, aventura and of course, daddy yankee. We played hard in the blazing mid-morning sun and I SCORED THE ONLY GOAL! It was a huge moment for me. I was playing defense and kicked it as hard as i could from mid-field and it went right in the goal. I´m pretty proud of this... a thanksgiving milagro. And the other girls invited me to play with them again next sunday...Now here i am running a few errands in Libertad and soon to return to palmar where I am going to cook up some trumpet fish to celebrate my thankgiving.

It´s been a beautiful day and I am grateful for a great many things: my family, my friends and my home... and I am grateful for my new town, friends and my strange new life here. Everyday is full of newness and beauty. I wish I could be with my family on thanksgiving but since I cannot, I am very thankful to be here in ecuador living life the best that i can. Much love from ecua-land!

Malchinqui--a poem

Malchinqui

Merciless the wind whips sheets
of dust, stings my eyes.
The sun narrows it´s heat, bares
down upon my pale shoulders.

Low, among the withered cornstalks, she
crouches, peering out from her hiding place
she waits. Quiet as the absence of rain.

Three gringas, standing
a half moon around her front door.
We are speaking with her mother.

Nearby her baby sister gnaws on an apple,
barefeet crusted in dry earth, the dust
sticks to the tiny corners of her mouth, sucking
at the sweet meat of fruit.
Her brother surveys the scene, he keeps a close
distance.
Old man draped in a worn, wool poncho
hovers in the doorway, his eyes
nearly hidden below folds of wrinkled skin.

She shyly observes our movements,
our jeans, fleece coats, sunglasses and
artisan hand-bags, our shiny hair
How we shift our backs to break the force of wind.

When she rises
from the cornstalks, she moves slowly.
Her legs are no more
than bones and skin.

Her eyes, set deep, send
dark shadows down her face,
She does not meet my eyes. She knows
we´ve been talking about her, how her body
is crumbling. Disapearing--like the cornstalks
in the heat and wind and dust.

When I look at her again, her eyes
She wears the sun like diamonds.

Here are some random photos!
First we have the Jesus graffiti-- vota pensanda-- which translates more or less-- vote thinking. Love it.


The next one is of some volunteers and i enjoying Cuenca the best city ever. Next is of a woman selling flowers.

To the left we have me with my fist in the air, "¡viva la revolucion!"

Here is just a random picture of Cuenca...did i mention it´s the greatest city every.

This is the lovely ocean where i am lucky enough to live. Palmar is a beautiful town (so come on and visit me!!!)

Hanging out in Palmar with pedro and miguel. We work a lot here but we still manage to have a fiesta or two.

And here is Palmar. I know i have written before that it is small... so this is the main square.



Okay----so that is it for this entry. Just some photos from Ecuador!

Viva La Provincia Santa Elena

So--Last Monday I was living in the Province of Guayas but this monday I am in the Province of Santa Elena. Did I move? Naw. There was a week of stikes, blocked highways and burning tires but it worked and last week Tuesday the congress voted and we became the newest province of Ecuador! One thing that I really dig about Ecuadorians is how they take it to the street until they see change. Not saying this always works but it inspires me, they know what they want and they go for it. Not sure if becoming the 24th province is the best choice or not but time will tell...who knows? I´m feeling hopeful. On the first day of the strike I got caught trying to get to the city of Libertad (about 40 km from Palmar) and it was a wild scene: flaming tires and buses, cars, trucks all backed up at each blocade. What I loved was how it wasn´t a bunch of angry people yelling but rather one big party- I mean, there were even vendors selling cokes and snacks. I heard later on there were a couple little run-ins with the police, but I think tension was inevitable.
As far as life in Palmar: I believe The Dude ( The Big Lebowski) says it best when he says, "strikes and gutters, ups and downs". Yesterday about 10 youth and I piled in the back of one girl´s uncles truck and tumbled down the Ruta Del Sol to a small village where from we hiked a good five hours through the jungle. At one point while eating some tuna a tarantula landed on Dayse´s shoulder ( who was sitting right next to me), thanks to Maestro our faithful guide and friend no one was bitten. He knocked it off her shoulder ( so it landing about an inch from me) and then killed it. It was a pretty intense hike, at the end we had to wade through a muddy river in our sneakers....dark water surrounded by jungle makes me nervous. In training we learned about a snake called Matacaballo which translates to HorseKiller because it can leap like 15 feet in order to kill it´s prey. There are no documented cases in years but I couldn´t help but wonder... But aside from tarantulas, snakes and dark water... the scenary was spectacular and Maestro, our guide was a really cool guy and his son Denis ( 10) came along too. He lives in a very humble house with his wife and kids- so we brought food and clothes. It was a pretty cool day--by the time I got home I was so cold and tired that I went to bed before 8pm.
Otherwise my days are always suprising. I help lead kids youth groups (make playdough and play rowdy games of duck, duck, goose) and plant gardens, clean storage sheds, plan upcoming interviews, talk to young mothers etc. I love being here but I do constantly worry that I could be doing more or doing things better or why can´t i speak spanish like a native (it would be so great). Instead I massacre verb forms on a daily basis and tell people that I am "poca casada" which means I am a "little married" when I mean "cansada", tired, I am a little tired. sigh. One day. One day I will speak correct Spanish!
And sometimes I just don´t have the words. Like today-- I met a young 13 year old mother who on top of all that has the chicken pox. She is standing there with her week old baby and I have no idea what to say to her in english, much less in spanish. Her face is tired and pale and she is wearing glittery lipstick and a pink t-shirt and while the woman I am with is telling her about the importance of vaccinations, I can tell the girl isn´t really listening and I feel completely helpless. What can I offer her...? So i smile and admire her baby and wonder... what can I do? Start a young mothers group--would she even come? Probably not. Do i know the first thing about being a young mother? Probably not. Do i feel like a very small gringa in a very big world? Yes. (which is funny because I am the tallest person here).