1st Day

Hola a todos! 

I am alive and well in Lumbsí, Ecuador.  It’s a small village with about 300 (edit: it's more like 3,000-4,000 people, depending on who you ask...there's definitely more than 300) people, and about a 20 minute bus ride to Cumbayá, where my school is.  So much has happened and I’ve learned so much in these few days that I cannot possibly accurately represent my experience in this blog.  I have never had a blog before and I would like to tell you whatever is on my mind, but that would be boring and might portray my experience a bit strangely.  It’s hard to cater to an audience that consists of close and distant family and friends, and a boyfriend, and I cannot possibly explain everything that’s unfamiliar to people from the United States.  Feel free to ask questions if things don’t make sense.  I don’t have any internet at home so these posts may be few and far between once classes start. 

I arrived around 12:30 am on Sunday.  Mi papá y hermano were waiting at the airport with a decorated sign with “Valery Kramer.”  Close enough.  Mi papá gave me un abrazo and we went out to their old pick up truck and I somehow managed to elbow the truck next to us and set off the alarm, which I tried to explain, but I don’t think they understood.  My hermano put my luggage in the truck bed and we made our way uphill to Lumbisí.  I was so exhausted, my papá didn’t speak clearly, the manual truck was loud, and the road was bumpy so it made it nearly impossible for us to communicate well.  It was one of the most uncomfortable 25 minutes of my life.  I was worried for my computer that was bouncing around in my backpack in the truck bed over the bumpy roads and sharp turns, worried that I am riding in a speeding truck without a seatbelt, and I was worried that I would ever be able to communicate.  We arrived finally and my mamá was up and gave me un abrazo and a glass of water, showed me my room and the bathroom, and then we all went to bed. 

I knew I was going to be living in a somewhat indigenous village, which brings to mind poverty and such, but I thought where I’d be living would be pretty nice because in Mexico I stayed in a wonderful house with a maid and gardener, which was very cheap.  So, I thought for the money that my school was paying them, I’d have a decently nice place even though it was in a small village. The house I’m staying at is not decrepit or anything, but I’ve never stayed anywhere like it.  That night, I saw a spider in the bathroom and the toilet paper had mold on it.  My room didn’t have a mirror, a garbage can or a hamper, just a bed, shelving, and a dresser.  There were holes in the shower walls and the two kids share a room without a door.  Six of us (mom, dad, brother (13), sister (11), brother (3) and me) are sharing a tiny bathroom with nowhere to put my stuff.  I lied awake for two hours thinking about how I was going to live such a different life here.  I was hit with some culture shock and a large dose of homesickness.

I awoke to the sounds of perros barking, roosters crowing, and mi hermanito who’s three open my door and close it several times in the morning since six in the morning.  There was a water shortage so we didn’t have any running water that day (I had to ask how to flush the toilet).  I unpacked and spent most of the day hanging out with the family and meeting the neighbors who are basically all relatives of my family.  I played basketball with my hermano and my friend Kay, a student from Illinois like me, who lives next door and some of her family was so much activity at the estadio, which has basketball courts, soccer fields, and playground equipment.  It was so chévere (cool) to see so many different people gather together and play.  It all looked so spontaneous; hardly anyone was wearing athletic clothes and the young and old, girls and boys, were playing together.  Even the dogs join in—the locals kept trying to kick the dogs off the court, but people kept tripping over them.