Words From Ecuador
I am from eight thirty bedtimes and rising with the sun. From devious little cousins and younger siblings. From fresh fruit juice, ecua-shoes, and a new system of time. From seemingly shy women and overtly forward men. From fried yucca, comidas tipicas and yogoso sabor a naranja. I am from open-air classrooms, school uniforms and…
30 March, 2012
A Lesson On Grieving
The house sits on wooden stilts, sunken down below the road. When we arrived it was already full of people. I didn’t know our destination until we arrived; I didn’t know our purpose until I saw the small wooden coffin. It sat atop a table covered in tall white candles. My stomach dropped and my…
25 January, 2012
Cleanse
It’s a quiet Sunday in the Andi-Cerda household. We’ve just finished lunch when I notice my host-dad Juan cutting up something brown outside. “It’s tobacco, we’re going to mix it with water,” Irene, my host-mom, explains. “Its part of our culture,” Juan interjects, “want to try?” Although I dont know what it…
02 January, 2012
We’re Everywhere…
The last thing I expected was bagels. I never imagined the heaven of a brunch of Jewish comfort food. But indeed I had the opportunity, along with two other Jewish fellows, to celebrate Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with the Jewish community in Quito. To get into the synagogue we had to bring copies of…
09 November, 2011
El Jugo De Kambic
The second week with my Napo host family has begun. My family consists of parents, Irene and Juan, and two younger siblings: one boy, Kambic, age nine, and one girl, Nina, age three. They are both rather adorable if I do say so myself.  Kambic acted comfortably towards me from the first day, but I had…
18 October, 2011
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