This is an entire blog aside from any specific adventures in Ecuador just to attempt to put things, as a whole- my experiences in Ecuador, into perspective for you. There are apparently stages of the study abroad experience; the initial excitement, “I love everything about this country” stage referred to as the “honeymoon stage”, then the stage of homesickness, frustration and struggle living with a different culture and so on…
I definitely experienced a bit of that first stage where the realization that I was living and studying in a foreign country speaking another language was incredible (this is still true, it is still incredible and I am grateful and proud of myself everyday). I slowly started to creep into the struggle stage and, as advised, tried as often as possible to note things as “interesting differences” and work around the difference aspect of the culture from my own. As you can tell now from the change of tone of my blogs I’m sure, I have been fully emerged within the frustration stage, with many aspects that I am no longer willing to accept as passing differences between cultures when they are things I sincerely disagree with.
For one, the machismo characteristic of this country has come to affect me everyday in a negative way. I am tired of being whistled at, kissed at, called “preciosa”/”muñeca”/”bonita”/”guapa”/”princesa” by men I pass on the street of all ages between about 14 and maybe 64 (this includes guards, men in suits, and policemen). I do not appreciate being viewed as an object and being spoken to in such as way, as well as being given so little respect that these men believe there is nothing wrong with acting in this way. Lately, I have been frighteningly close to physically assaulting someone when they do this. I have at least had the thought many a time, and it is very likely that the next time a man partakes in this behavior close to my being (because often times it is only inches from your face) he will have either a fist in his or a hard elbow in his chest. If the women of this society want to accept and endure this which will ensure it never changes then so be it, but I am not of this culture and this is one aspect I feel, for respect of my own being and self worth, I do not have to submit to. I’ll be one American woman that they will know not to throw their bullshit at. And who knows, maybe it would be radical enough to shake things up for the people who saw it happen.
Pollution, as I’ve mentioned before is and will continue to be one of my biggest irritants, partly I think because I have personally felt the effects of it on my health. I have been with a cough since about a week after we returned from the Galapagos. And as I mentioned in another blog, my asthma has become more extreme as of late as well. Not being able to walk down the street without smelling exhaust also affects your mental health and demeanor. For one thing thought, having seen such horrible pollution and experienced it first hand does inevitably make you want to do something about it. Because we are lucky enough in the U.S. to not experience this kind of constant cloud of contamination of the air it is easy to underestimate the real severity of it. Being a part of it here in Ecuador has just made me so angry that I couldn’t imagine living every day of my life in an atmosphere like this that I feel I have no choice but to work to ensure this is not a future reality. Of course, we always wish that we could learn from our mistakes before we actually made and experienced them.
Little things too pile up and make us appreciate our country and culture’s conveniences even more. Relying on public transportation for everything you want to do can me taxing. Buses do not run on time and are not available whenever you want them to be. Taxis are sometimes nowhere to be seen and then of course it is a struggle to negotiate with the driver so he doesn’t rip you off too badly because we are obviously “gringos”. Again, the overcapacity of buses can be utterly and impossibly irritating, as well as the constant necessity to keep a hand on all your belongings while riding so as not to be pick pocketed (also easier on a crowded bus), which I have been fortunate enough to not have had happen to me, although a good handful of friends have. Although I did have my shoes and suitcase stolen. Which segways into another everyday irritant, that is, the thievery rate in this country. Pick-pockets are more than common, schemed thievery of backpacks and purses, gang robbery by threat, or breaking and entering robbery of houses. (All of these examples have happened to at least one person in our WU group). It is sad and frustrating that I have three locks (two gates and a door) on my house, plus an alarm system. It is frustrating that we need this. It is sad that every house near us has a similar setup. There are guards stationed more regularly than I have ever seen in my life, but only guard one area, and not just the general well-being of the people and places passing by. All of this petty (and not so petty) thievery is yes of course, because I am living in a third-world country where the majority of the population is well below American poverty level standards. Old women and young children (often times crippled) beg, sell oranges, or do tricks like juggling in the street for money with such frequency that you will not drive for a minute without seeing one of these, often indigenous, people. It’s heart-breaking and infuriating all at the same time. And they are relentless… I had a woman follow me into three different aisles of a market with her hand practically outstretched against my body asking for money.
Traffic. Like the pollution, there is no way I can accurately describe this to anyone who has not experienced themselves. Cars drive all over the lanes, along the median lines even when they are not passing. Turning left from the right lane at a round about and crossing on-coming and traffic going the same direction is very common. Amazingly as well, it seems that it is always the people committing the error (turning left from the right lane, drifting into the opposite lane, trying to pass when there is not enough rough because of on-coming traffic, running the red light, etc.) who honk at the other person making this difficult. Traffic lights mean absolutely nothing. I admit, there are some places that it is quite bad in the US with people running red lights but, I do not exaggerate, at least half of drivers here in Ecuador run red lights consistently. Possibly more. A red light means look both ways to make sure no one is coming and then continue through without ever slowing down, or, if passing a blind intersection it means, honk as you approach the intersection to let cars coming the opposite way know that you are going to run the red light or stop sign, also without ever slowing down. Yellow and green lights I’m convinced mean basically nothing since everyone is doing what they want anyway. Also, there is no such thing as a pedestrian right-of-way. (That’s a lie- when you are at a crosswalk and it has a little green man you can walk safely, but as soon as he turns red those cars are going to go.) But, people rarely use the crosswalks and generally just cross in the street where they can (i.e. a break in traffic so they can run across). Granted, if you are still in the street while a car is approaching do not expect them to slow down any- you better just hurry up. Also, if you are at a crosswalk without a walk signal, do not expect any cars to stop for you on their own- it’s just like crossing in any other part of the street. (In my time here I have had 3 cars ever stop and let me cross.) For most of my time here I had always said that it was incredible at how terrible of drivers there were in this city/country and yet I had never once seen an accident. Well, I still haven’t ever seen an accident, but I heard about one. This past week my friend Cassie’s host sister was in one. She was in the passenger seat while the father of her baby was driving. A man ran a red light and hit here side of the car. She was rushed to the hospital and in intensive care for two or three days with a broken nose, severely split lip, broken collarbone, and ruptured spleen in three places. Apparently there are three main arteries in your spleen and hers ruptured between all of them. Fortunate considering if they had ruptured themselves she would have died. She is having plastic surgery on her face because her lip was so mangled and although she is in stable condition now she has to remain in the hospital for 8-10 more days. The father of her son was only slightly beat up and could leave the hospital after one day- but he didn’t and is currently paying $1500 a night to stay in the hospital because the moment he leaves he will be arrested. Apparently the policy is guilty until proven innocent here, and all parties are held in prison until all the witnesses are collected to testify. Apparently the man who ran the red light (who is in jail currently) was trying to say that Cassie’s sister was not wearing her seatbelt, although her broken collarbone kind of indicates that there was some sort of resistance there. The saddest part, Cassie, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend have been trying to take care of the baby while their mom is at the hospital with her daughter and he (the baby) keeps calling for his mama. The one day they took him to the hospital he didn’t recognize her and pulled away. The whole time I’ve been in Ecuador I’ve been proud of myself for never crying (aside from the mishap with my first family). I have never cried because I was lonely, because I missed my family or my home, or because it was hard, but I almost cried when Cassie told me about the little boy not recognizing his mother. And I’m almost crying now writing this. I know this is not anything unique to Ecuador and the possibility of this happening occurs every time someone runs a red light, but it just infuriates me that it is so accepted here. My host father is a typical Ecuadorian driver and for all I can tell, he is a good man, but people here simply don’t care. There is so little respect for the law it is ridiculous. Nothing is enforced and therefore people continue to lie, cheat, steal, and drive as they please, regardless of how that might affect someone else’s life. It’s so frustrating for me. It’s disgusting and infuriating that it could be so normal. A man was shot and killed about a block away from my house about a week ago. Lacy, who lives next to me, drove by and saw his body on the sidewalk. Nobody did anything to try to help him as he was getting robbed and murdered.
If you add all of this up, and just sprinkle on the top the few straws of the difficulty of having to fit into a different family with different ideas and different points of view than you are used to and have grown up to appreciate, you can begin to see how I am just frustrated with this country. Never will I tell you that the countryside and natural offerings of the country are not spectacular and a once in a lifetime treasure to see, but never once will I tell you that I am loving being here either. Never once will I entertain the idea of wanting to live here, and I know that at the end of 5 months, I will be ready to leave and I could not imagine staying for an entire year. But, I also understand that it is unrealistic for me to think or have ever thought this might be the case. I am, as a fact, living and studying in a third-world conservative country. I should not be expected to fall in love with every aspect of the culture and experience that it sometimes sounds like those who study in France, or Italy, or Australia, or New Zealand do. I am in a country where woman are looked upon as lesser beings (even if it is subconsciously), where maids and workers are treated as less worthy or less intelligent beings just because of their economic status, where abortion is illegal and birth-control and condoms are very difficult to find, where it is still outrageous to find an openly gay member or society, where people drive whatever vehicle they want because oil reserves are plentiful and gas sells for $1.48 a gallon, and recycling is topic taken less than seriously. That is frustrating. That is hard to live with and be a part of when 20 years+ of your life has been spent with the privilege of viewing these issues in a completely different way and have spent living in a country that as a whole is more educated on all of these issues. No one will argue that the US does not have it’s own problems as well (especially now), but you also never realize that even with these problems how incredibly blessed and fortunate we are to live in the US until you experience first hand what it is to live without all the benefits that we are allowed.
This is probably best described as my attempt at an explanation or defense for myself and the tone or topics of some of what I have been writing. Although I have never felt this from any of my family or those reading my blogs, other students have shared some of these same or similar frustrations with their friends or family and received responses like “you do have to remember that you are in a different country and culture and things are going to be different,” or “you can’t expect everything to be the same, just be patient.” To which, if not verbally at least mentally, my friends respond, “You have no fucking idea.” And it’s true, they don’t. And although it is not entirely their fault for not being able to understand completely and give this response because they have in fact never experienced life in a third world country as we are now, it is also quite irritating to hear this response from someone who has no idea what they are talking about. Of course, parents, friends, and relatives always want those of us studying abroad to have a wonderful experience and take away from it the most we can and not spend so much time missing the things from home or our comfort zone that we sell short the opportunities we have in our foreign country of study, but just as we should not put on blinders by our longing for home and comfort, our supports too should not be disillusioned by their dream for us to have the most amazing 5 months of our lives every one of those 150-some days. Both are dangerous and naïve perspectives.
So, as I’ve said, none of you reading this have given me any responses like this so far but I wanted to write this just as a precaution, so as my frustration might grow, you don’t feel inclined too :p and also so that you don’t misunderstand where I am coming from and what it is I’m trying to express and why I am feeling the way I am. And don’t worry. 
The experience I am having here is teaching me so much more than just Spanish, and the only way to learn how you want to live your life is not to discover all the great things you want to be a part of it, but to also discover the not so great things you want to leave out.
Even more exciting, everyone has been telling me I look like I´ve been losing weight (which is possible but only means I am getting back to the weight I was before I arrived here. My host dad just bought a scale and I weigh exactly what I did when I left in July…) but in any case, I felt pretty darn good about myself and the fact that I wore my “tight pants” for Thanksgiving dinner AND went for a lovely run the next morning without feeling gross and blobish. 
and more naps, some of us went out one last time to learn how to pan for gold. There was a little bit in the batches of dirt that we found, although I have to admit I was having more fun seeing how many and how big of rocks I could skip on the river. I had more success with that we did with the gold and, true to form, inspired everyone else to abandon the search for gold and start throwing rocks into the river as well. It’s incredible how easily influenced human beings are. Good times. With that adventure/Kerry’s playtime over we returned to, yes, eat more, BUT this time I got a lovely surprise in that in my soup was about an inch and a half long maggot. Needless to say, I did not eat the soup. At first I thought it was a caterpillar but everyone else decided it was indeed a larva and as time when on and that realization sunk in it became less and less funny than it had been to me initially. The best part was in fact though, when I asked one of the workers if “it was part of the soup” his response was “let me go ask.” Nice. He never came back and let me know. They never changed the soup either. Again, one thing you would probably never find in an establishment in the U.S.- at least not twice. Before the complete disgust of having an inch plus bug’s baby in my food set in we finished off the night with some more card playing, lots of water drinking, and a slightly later bedtime of about 12:00. The next morning we awoke for our last buffet breakfast, packed up our things, and took the canoe back across the river to catch our bus(es) back to Quito by 10 am. We finally, exhaustedly, and in desperate need of a bathroom, returned to Quito about 5 in the afternoon.
