ROAD TRIP

It's been awhile since I've touched my blog. It's sad to think that blogs were the big thing five years ago but now just about everyone has abandoned theirs. This is probably my third or fourth blog. At least. I've had a live journal, a xanga, something with blogger before I think, and I'm sure I'm forgetting a few. Sometimes it's hard to find things to write about. Or at least, things I'm willing to publish on the Internet. For National Write a Novel Month, I started writing about...well everything.

Or at least I wanted to. I never really got started but I can always start when I want. There's a lot of things on my mind that I would love to write about before I forget but alas I haven't had the chance. Writing, as in on paper, is a dying art. I know it's ironic to say that because I'm typing all of this up but it really easy. Barely legible journals are a thing of the past unfortunately. But they're fun because it's personal. You don't have to worry about someone stealing it without you knowing. You can doodle and make it your own. It's hard to do that with a word processor, or in this case, a browser.

Anyway, this is a travel blog, or was, and I did some travelling over the last week. Nothing special, just coming home from school, but after a few late nights playing Warcraft 3, there's a few things about my travels that I find humorous and I'm sure someone else out there will too.

1. I will never leave on time. This is a time tested classic. If I want to leave at 2, I'll probably be out the door at 3 if I'm lucky. Time has never been my friend and I've rarely, if ever been able to leave when I intend. It's never earlier either. I will probably never leave earlier than intended. Last Tuesday I wanted to leave at 7PM. I don't think I got to leave until about 9:30PM. So sorry.

2. I never leave on time because I'm rarely prepared to leave. Most people will pack the night before but that's not me. That's not my style. I will always pack a bit the night before but ultimately I will say "eh I'll do the rest tomorrow." Tomorrow never comes and when it comes time for me to leave I won't be ready to go. C'lest la vie.

3. I'll always be hungry before I leave. I don't know why. I think packing my car makes me hungry or I"ll be trying to pack instead of eating. I don't know if it's my failsafe or because it's cheap but I'll always go to McDonalds and order a few McDoubles. Just enough food for me to stop thinking about how hungry I am but not too much to put me asleep and cheap enough where I don't feel that I've spent too much. It's also just the right amount so I don't feel like I need to run to the bathroom halfway through the trip.

4. I'm going to need gas before I leave. Some people are smart and fill up the night before but I'm not like most people. I like to fill up my tank so I can calculate my gas mileage later on and brag about how my car gets a bajillion miles to the gallon.

5. My gas station of choice is Speedway. Not only can I fill up my tank but I can get huge drink for my drive. Usually my drink of choice is coke but occasionally I'll change it up and get something like Cherry Coke.

6. There's a good chance that I didn't sleep enough the night before. For some reason I always find myself driving after a night of not sleeping. This is dangerous, I know, but I always do it. This is because most of my big driving is after finals week every quarter and I've probably spent most of the week before up studying for that. Or I just stayed up because I like staying up. Both are plausible and I rarely ever get the right amount of sleep.

7. I love driving at night. Night driving is the best driving because there's no one else on the road. Sure, it's harder to watch out for cops but I don't speed that much so it's not a problem. There's something relaxing about driving at night and not worrying about traffic. It gives me plenty of time to think and reflect on whatever is on my mind.

8. For really long trips, I always try to keep a copy of On the Road in the car. There's something special about that book but I don't know why. It's about a guy who travels across country looking for something and he never finds it. That's kind of what I feel like at this point of my life. I'm looking for something but I don't know what. It's also the ultimate bromance book. If you can't travel across country with your best friend, who can you travel with?

9. Road trips always give me the best conversations. I don't know if it's because we have nothing else to do or what but I always have the best conversations on the road. On the road, I always have had the best heart-to-heart conversations that I rarely ever get to have anywhere else. Almost nothing is taboo and everything will be discussed if you're lucky. There are few better things in life than driving with a close friend or two, catching up or reminiscing about the past. Fuck pillow talk. Why should I have to until 2 AM, after we've run out of things to do, to talk about what everyone seemingly is dying to talk about?

Marty, you read this line before you read the rest of the post didn't you?

Next time, I write about eating a library.

This is the end...sort of

More than two months after I left I've returned home. Well, I've been home for more than a week but I needed some time to relax and reflect a little. Where did my summer go? I find myself in the same spot, listening to the same CD when I started this blog. I'm not drinking any beer although I do have some I need to finish. Some things never change I guess.

Tomorrow I head back to school and start another journey. Senior year? I prefer to think of it as year four because, who knows, there could always be a year five. It's odd to think that for most of my summer I was in a foreign country. At first, it didn't even feel like it was different. Sure, everyone was speaking Spanish but I was kind of used to that. Sometimes I feel more at home when I don't know what people are saying. Reflection of my upbringing I suppose.

The real culture shock was when I got back. The Coke tastes different. Everything has cheese. I never have to worry if the restaurant will have what I want. Wal Mart has everything I need. There will be a public bathroom. The bathroom will be somewhat clean. There will be toliet paper. They will accept credit cards. I can use a $20. I don't need exact change.

...

I could go on but I think that covers most of it. I think my biggest mistake was going into Costco. If you don't know, Costco is kind of like Sam's Club. They sell everything in bulk. First, you need a membership to even walk into the place otherwise they make you sign in. They make sure to tell you since you're not a member that you can't buy anything. It didn't matter. I didn't have any money on me anyway! And even if I did why would I need to buy five lbs of cheese? Or how about six dozens of pens? I could stock my fridge for the apocalypse. It was the opposite of everything I had been exposed to.

I saw a lot on this trip. I see why people look down on America now. Before this trip I always thought shows like the Kardashians or Jersey Shore. Now, I somehow hate them more. I hate my own consumerism. I learned a lot this summer. Not just Spanish, but life lessons. There were so many one room shantys that I passed by or small villages where you could barely get any cell phone reception and Internet didn't exist. Most people would think "Man, how do people live like this?" but I felt the opposite. I couldn't help but to ask myself "Why aren't I living this way?"

My car, my iPod, my laptop, my desktop, my TV, I don't need these. I don't need any of this. Some people just wake up, they do their work, and they go back to sleep to do it all over again. They don't concern themselves with what other people are doing. They worry about what they have to do to continue living. I want to live more like that.

I fell in love with South America. Most people's reactions to me going to Ecuador were "Why would you go there?" or "They eat Guinea Pig there." Everyone thought I was going to the middle of nowhere and that it was a terribly dangerous place. It wasn't in the middle of nowhere and it was dangerous but not anymore dangerous than being in some parts of the states. It was a nice break from everything else that I was doing and, in many ways, it was much needed.

Tomorrow is the start of another journey. This summer has been non-stop traveling. I've been here for barely week and I have to leave again for awhile. I'm kind of excited. I guess. It's my 2nd/3rd year on staff and I'm looking forward to seeing most people again but I really just want to sit and breathe. I keep seeing people I haven't seen in awhile and in the next instant I have to say goodbye to them.

I better go to bed. I have to pack. Then drive. Then unpack. Same old Darren...same old Darren...

Sun Risen Memories...

This trip, at the core, has been a return to my "roots." Back in January Ecuador was appealing for I could go to a Spanish speaking country and not study Spanish formally. It's been almost three years since the last time I have taken a formal Spanish class and I wasn't sure if I still had it.

I was right, I didn't still have it. Or maybe I never had it. My Spanish was terrible and crippled. I couldn't get a taxi. I could barely order at a restaurant without pointing at everything like a monkey. After being in Latin America for seven weeks my Spanish has gotten better. It had to or I would've starved.

Starting in the fall I will be taking Spanish classes again. This trip, if nothing else, has restored my fire to learn Spanish. I've been speaking with so many people that want to learn English for various reasons during this trip it's heartbreaking. Why should they be learning English? I understand that if they know English that they will be able to get a better job but why English? In another 20 years there will be more native Spanish speakers than native English speakers and there are more native Mandarin speakers than anything else. Why aren't we learning those languages?

At the heart of it all I've started to think back and wonder, why have I bothered with all these languages? I keep meeting people on this trip that are bilingual or trilingual and on one hand, it's amazing, I wish that was me. On the other hand I can't help but to also think that, "damn that should've been me."

My biggest regret in life is not learning Cantonese. Maybe it is my fault, maybe it was out of my hands but I never learned it. It's kind of like Spider-man letting the robber get away and that robber ended up being the same guy who kills Uncle Ben. His "original" sin if you will. Not learning Chinese is mine.

It doesn't matter how many people Spider-man ends up saving, he still feels guilty about Uncle Ben. I started my Spanish studies because they were required. I started German because I was bored and had some time to kill. I wanted to study French but it was that or Physics, I chose Physics. I studied Mandarin because I wanted to learn some form of Chinese. I had free time this upcoming fall quarter and I thought about Portugese. It doesn't matter how many languages I try to learn, it won't make up for the original one I missed out on.

On this trip, I feel completely crippled and useless at the moment. I am, once again, like a five year old child. Even though I am in Venezuela, I am staying with a distant relative and I might as well be in Hong Kong. Spanish is useless to me for the language of choice is Cantonese. I cannot communicate with them and they cannot communicate with me. I have been sitting on multiple hour car rides or at the dinner table with nothing to say except "what did he say?" and just smiling and nodding.

And it doesn't even matter at this point if I learn it at this point or not. Everyone that I would've spoken it with is probably going to die within the next ten years or is already dead. Hardly anyone outside of Chinatown speaks Cantonese and even then the number of Mandarin speakers in Chinatown has increased over the last ten years. I'm afraid, that Cantonese is a dying language, from what I can tell...

Still Alive...

Out of the three countries I will be visiting this summer, Venezuela by far has the worst reputation. In recent years the relations between the US and Venezuela have become strained. In July the president of Colombia accused the president of Venezuela of hiding guerrilla troops in his country. Chavez, the president of Venezuela, has threatened to cut off oil to the U.S. if Colombia attacks but Colombia denies any allegation of mobilizing troops or plans to attack.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-10829179

Of course what do Americans know about Latin America? Nothing really. Think about everything you know about Ecuador. All that comes to mind is that it's on the equator, the Galapagos Islands, and they eat Guinea Pig (they only do that in a certain part of the country btw).

Now think about everything you know about Panama. They built a canal there. That's probably it. You probably didn't know that it was actually part of Colombia for years, which would make it South America, not Central. Or that they shot part of Quantum of Solace there (what a shitty movie to be "proud" of). The history of Latin America is glossed over in school. Hell, the history of anything that's not the U.S. or Europe gets glossed over.

While this may be one of the most dangerous cities in the world, Caracas is known as the murder capital of the world, it's a very beautiful city. We landed last Saturday, early afternoon, and that's when this all became very real. It's been almost thirty years since my mom was last here. A lot has changed. Poverty has risen about 300%. The city has become much more developed than it was when she left.

More similar to Ecuador, nobody speaks English. It's commonly thought that everyone in the world dislikes Americans but this is the only place I've actually felt that sentiment. In Ecuador there was plenty of American music being played. Panama still has a heavy American presence, there's a large military base still. The only reason Venezuela has made the news in the United States is because of Chavez and his troubles with the states. There's less American music but there are plenty of TV programs from the states, most have been dubbed over though. It's hard to avoid. For movies, is there anyone that produces as many movies as the states?

After landing, we had about a 45 minute drive to the city. The airport is away from the city. The first actual sight of the city is the endless amount of houses, closer to shacks, that are in the mountains. It's clear that I'm no longer in Kansas anymore but oddly it's still very beautiful.

The drive to Caracas itself was breathtaking. There's no other way to put it. It was through the mountains, I've had so many rides through the mountains, and this was one of the more beautiful drives. For such a misunderstood country, I cannot emphasize how much I was in awe of the mountains. I wish I could've taken some pictures but I was absolutely terrified. This is Venezuela and I'm a gringo.

In Ecuador, a lot of fences had broken glass in it for spikes. There was a fair amount of barbed wire as well. I was joking once that they tore down the Berlin Wall and took the miles and miles of barbed wire and moved it to Ecuador. That was a lie. As we got closer to the city I started to notice a trend, where there would be barbed wire in Ecuador or Panama is razor wire. For those who don't know, razor wire is a steel wire that has razor blades on it. Barbed wire was used to keep cattle in. Razor wire was first used in prisons to deter escape attempts.

Some apartment complexes don't just use razor wire. Some use a combination of razor and barbed wire. Along the highway, some of the apartment complexes have razor wire wrapped in barbed wire. This is combination is then used to wrap around another wire that has electrical current running through it. This city really does live up to its reputation of being dangerous.

For a country that "hates" the U.S. it sure has a lot of chains. I went for weeks not seeing a Burger King or McDonalds in Ecuador. They were in Panama but that was to be expected. I was in the tourist section. In Caracas, there may be as many McDonalds or Burger King as there are in the suburbs. Hell, there's plenty of American chains. There's a lot of KFC and Wendys as well.

They're not cheap either. It's $4 USD for a hamburger, about 19 Bolivars. It's odd, fast food is thought of as cheap and fast but here it's not. It's just as expensive as the other restaurants. Food is expensive. Out of the three countries I've been in, food is the most expensive here. It's probably the import taxes.

Tomorrow I'm heading over to another state of Venezuela. I'll try to take as many pictures as I can but the Internet here isn't that fast and it's difficult to upload photos/videos. They'll have to wait until I get back.

P.S.

I have some stuff written about the coast of Ecuador and Panama (there isn't much to say about it honestly) but that will have to wait until later.

Yesterday's Cuenca

Today is my last day in Cuenca unfortunately. I've fallen in love with this city and it's hard to think about leaving. Quito is like any other large city in the States. Otevalo, about an hour away from Quito, and Cuenca feel like a different country. Along side the people from the city you'll see plenty of the Indigenous people. It's small enough where I can walk around but there's still plenty for me to explore. I wish I could come back, and maybe next year, I will. Before I leave though, here's one last batch of observations...

1. The people are really friendly. Last week I was trying to find a laundry mat (they're everywhere) but I couldn't find one so I asked someone and she told me. I didn't understand so she just said "follow me!" and led me straight to one. What a nice lady.

2. The toliets cannot handle super jasons. Or even slightly irregular Jasons. It was bad enough I clogged the toilet. That was embarassing in its own right but try explaining that to your host mom in Spanish. That was the worst part of the ordeal...

3. I walked past a bank and the security guard was holding a shotgun. Not a glock or or a peashooter but a fuckin' shotgun. He was waiting for a few Pinkys or a Cacodemon to show up. What was more bizarre was another security guard in the mall had a shotgun too. Is Cuenca violent enough that it warrants this? Or is Cuenca really the Phobos Moon base?

4. I get this overwhelming feeling that they don't like the Japanese here. Every time I meet someone new the conversation usually goes like this:

Borracho: Hola me llamo borracho y tu?
Gringo: Hola me llamo gringo. Como esta?
Borracho: Bien! Todo bien! De donde eres? Japon? Chine?

It never fails. They will always if I'm Japanese first. I don't know why. I should ask someone. One of these days I'm gonna say I'm Korean or something so they can stop asking the question.

Side note:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwY5o2fsG7Y

Stop asking the question.

5. Cajas National Park is breathtaking. I'm uploading pictures now but they don't really do it justice. We went hiking for about 4 or 5 hours at 13,000 ft. It was probably the most physically exhausting thing I have ever done in my life. It's harder to breathe if you're not used to it. To make it easier, you eat sweets, to help with altitude sickness. It's just a quick burst of energy.

6. There is only one real CD store left in Cuenca. I don't know if I've mentioned it yet but there's a DVD store on every half block selling bootlegs. Same goes for CD stores. I know, I end up downloading a lot but these people put me to shame. I also feel slightly at home because of that. It's weird though. I can go through the DVD stores and I know which ones are good and which ones I shouldn't buy because the quality will suck.

7. I have never eaten so much ice cream in my life. There's a place, Tutto Freddo, that sells gelato for $0.95. Last night we were bored and somehow ended up at Tutto Freddo. After sitting down we all realized none of us wanted gelato. It's the only time that I've turned down getting food on this entire trip. I can't remember the last time I did that in the states either.

8. I don't think I've eaten this much white rice ever either. It's seriously at lunch and dinner. Everyday. Usually accompanied by potatoes and some sort of meat for me but others are eating a lot of soup and mote. Mote is a type of corn that they eat a lot.

9. The dogs run wild here. I've seen maybe three dogs on leashes. Everyone just lets their dog run free. It's kinda like dog heaven. I guess. They can run around and piss and shit where they like and nobody has to clean up after them. And guess what? They never run away. I see the same dogs guarding the same spots every day. The funniest part about all of this is that the dogs look both ways before they cross the street. I have no words for that. No words. They wait til all the cars have passed, check both ways and walk. They're fearless.

10. The pizza has more variety here. In the states usually we just eat Pepperoni or Mushrooms but the specialty pizza here are wonderful. Hawaiian, New York, Four seasons, etc. Also, all of the pizzas are cooked in a New York style, even if the place is called Chicago Pizza.

11. The only time I've actually ordered anything in Chinese was here in Ecuador. Last night we went to a Chinese restaurant. Some of you know how hard it is to go to a Chinese restaurant with me. I didn't know what anything was on the menu because it was all in Spanish so I decided to just see if they had a secret menu. They gave me looks when I walked in but they didn't ask if I spoke Chinese so I think they were surprised when I started speaking to them. It was the first and only time I've ever had to do that. Makes me want to study Chinese again. Almost. It's a complete mindfuck though when speaking Chinese and reverting to Spanish instead of English when you can't think of what to say.

12. I can no longer listen to Holiday in Cambodia anymore. It hits too close to home. It just breaks my heart listening to it. This is the opening of the song:

So you been to school
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car
Thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl

There's no better way to describe the group that I'm with here. It's not to be demeaning in anyway but after going through the countryside and seeing the poverty it hits a little too close to home and I just can't take it.

13. In a month's time, my Spanish has improved ten fold. It was quite a humbling experience when I first got here because I could barely talk to anyone. For a week or so, my host step dad was here and he's from Argentina. If you want a mind fuck, try understanding that. It's so radically different than the other countries. I was able to converse with him however. Yesterday I ate lunch with a few of my students. One was was Spain and another was from Cuba. Jesus Christ. That may have been the most intense use of my Spanish yet, just trying to understand what they were saying. Even though they said my Spanish wasn't very good (I could say that about their English too >.> ), I understood almost everything they said.

I leave tomorrow at 730 AM. :(. I don't know when the next time I will be on the Internet but hopefully I'll have some more pictures then.

Where I'm From....

So...for class...because we didn't have enough homework...we all had to write a "Where I'm From" poem. That would've been easy. 10 minutes of work. Tops. There also is no challenge in that. I was listening to "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" and I've only got books written by the beats with me so I decided to challenge the poem, challenge myself: Make it about as long as I can. In somewhat of an act of defiance, they gave me no length limit, it turned out long. Really long. It even broke the format. And since I had to type it I figured I might as well share. Enjoy?\

Revisionist Lament

I saw the best minds of my class, driven crazy by the pressures of the AP Tests

Forced into a stressed-induced madness caused by the urgent need of Ivy

Where average was not an option and State wasn’t an option

And anything but out-of-state meant failure

I’m from the backwater farms of China

Where Mao persecuted the innocent and revolutionized the culture

Where the women bind their feet and the marriages are prearranaged

Where sneakers are made for a dollar and iPods for three

And if you squint on dreary summer night

You can still see the China my grandfather left behind

I’m from the mean streets of Hong Kong

Where so many fled

Where Bruce Lee changed the world

Where the British ruled and Canto reigned supreme

I’m from the city of Caracas

Where they missed out on the Great Leap Forward

Where Simon Bolivar is king and gas is 20 centavos

Where democracy means dictatorship and “blank page” is synonymous with “Constitution”

I’m from the United States

West Side born and raised

Where Chinese isn’t American

From where English only is unacceptable

Where working in a hole in the wall is better than jook-sing

Where I have a name that’s anything but jook-sing

I’m from my parents basement

Like a lot of other basements

Where Sega Genesis meant nothing

And Super Nintendo was everything

Where football was foreign

And baseball? More like basebore

I’m from the ring

Where Stunners were the end all be all

Where Cactus Jack was everything

And HHH was the king of kings

Where El Santo did no wrong

Where Brody did what he wanted when he wanted

And Eddie did it all for a hot dog and a coke

I’m from a Viola

Is it bigger than a Violin?

Or is it smaller than a Cello

The butt of every music joke

Good music, boring parts

Alto clef, what the $%^# is that?

So many hours practiced

So many hours wasted

Oh where did you go my friend?

Nearly always at my side

Now sitting under my bed

I’m from a summer camp

Like a lot of other summer camps

Seven strangers

Passion for music

They’ll never know what they mean to me

I’m from a bookstore

Just like many other bookstores

Salinger, Bukowski, Kerouac, Burroughs Hemmingway, Heller

Who needs a beer?

I’ve got Ham on Rye for my Naked Lunch

I know For Whom the Bell Tolls

It tolls for thee

I’m from the Internet

I’m never gonna give you up

Lou Lynx is a friend of mine

4chan is Something Awful

All Your Base Are Belong to Us

It’s so cold in here

From pirating everything

Because paying is for suckers

I’m from Streetlight Manifesto

Where Everything Went Numb Somewhere in the Between

From Bomb the Music Industry

Where everything is Scrambles

I’m from the Clash

Where London Calls

This is my Gaslight Anthem

Listen to my ’59 Sound

From Rancid

…And Out Come the Wolves

I’m from those damn Dogs

Who mark everything as their own

Who jump on the table and eat my eggs

Who won’t stop following you

Who don’t care if you come home

But never want you to leave

Who won’t leave you alone

But you can’t leave them alone either

From a lot of late nights

Sitting up writing code

Banging my head on my desk

Wondering why everything core dumps

And why I didn’t become a Business major

Or Linguistics or Spanish

Or almost anything but this

From a small Green town

Where the drink of choice is Natty Light

And Parties before Homework

Where Zeitgeist is truth

And recycling is anything but a waste

Where I am a stranger in a familiar land

BG, Toledo, Cincinnati

Why aren’t I there?

Why aren’t I anywhere but here?

From a department on campus

Where I babysit adults

Who can’t hold their liquor

For those who can’t drink elsewhere

From the rich white kids

Who can’t find anything better to do with $18k

Other than to party

Dealing with all of that

Just to hope

That I can at least be anything but

Just a Hall Monitor

I’m from a lot of lonely nights at the bar

Amongst all my friends

Right here in Cuenca

Where there is no way to describe myself

Other than “Alone in the Crowd”

I’m from a lot of boring nights

Spent driving around

Accompanied by Taco Bell and Slurpees

There was never any place to go

But there was always an urgent need to belong

From one pizza buffet to another

Maybe a Chinese buffet here and there

Always stuffing my face

Always going for just one more slice

Modesty

Not an option

I’m from those crazy relationships

Gabby, Rebecca, Maria

Mooses, Red Roses, Slurpees

So long ago

Yet still with me

I’m from a lot of hopeful nights

Where I sat around waiting

Hoping that they wouldn’t ditch me again tonight

Oh Janey

Where did we go wrong?

I’m from road trips

From Cleveland to the UP

And Cleveland to Boston

Three friends, one car, 11 hours

The quintessential American Road Trip

I’m from a small city in America

Like a lot of other cities in America

Where you can find me at Applebees on any given Friday

And Borders any given Saturday

Where I meet up with all my friends from what seem like previous lives

And I wonder

How did I get here?

How to Spot a Gringo (in Ecuador)

The gringo is indigenous to North America but, depending on the country's definition of a gringo, it could be from any country where white people can be found, Europe and Australia included. Outside of its natural habitat, the gringo stands out like a hamburger in a crowd of hot dogs. Mostly they are tourists, traveling the world so they can tell other white people about their adventures, but sometimes they are college students studying abroad, because that's also what rich white people do.

The gringo cannot speak the language or speak the language well. They may know simple phrases like "where is the bathroom" or "I don't speak Spanish" or know several swear words but when ordering food they must rely on pointing at pictures or use a map to get a cab.

The gringo does not dress properly. Nothing says "trashy tourist" more than flip flops and shorts. Hey, it may be 80 degrees outside and all of the natives are still wearing pants, but hey you're an American! Wear those shorts and sandals because America, FUCK YEAH!

The gringo loves buying clothes from the indigenous people. And why wouldn't they? The typical gringo thinks "It's Ecuador, it's on the equator, it's hot as balls isn't it?" Maybe if you're along the coast but Cuenca is in the Andes Mountains and it's winter. It's not 90 degrees. It's more like 50. So the gringo will go to the hippie, Indian, market and stock up on (fake) alpaca sweaters, purses, and hats. Nothing says gringo like an alpaca sweater and hat!

The gringo will always travel in packs. You will rather see a gringo by their lonesome. Whether only one of them speaks Spanish well, they don't know the city well enough, or it's harder to rob 20 people (I'm sure it's been done) than just one person, you will rarely see a gringo traveling alone.

Gringos must always be the loudest people in the room. When picking a restaurant, they must always pick the smallest restaurant possible and pack in as many gringo friends as they could fit in their suitcase. They then must make as much noise as possible. Often times they will be screaming "woooooooooooo" just like Ric Flair. They are the only ones who make this sound. Before they leave, they will all try to pay for a $3 meal with a $20 bill and be disappointed when the waiter/waitress cannot make change for everyone. In anger, they will make a huge mess and leave.

The gringo will always have the right of way when crossing the street. A car may be barreling down the street but the gringo will always have the right of way because they are a pedestrian. This is false. Cars have the right of way. People do not. Cars are bigger and weigh more. Gringo pancakes are always on the menu.

Gringos must always be on time. In America, being on time is considered late. In Latin America, being on time is being early. Besides being afraid of being a gringo pancake, gringos can often be spotted when they run across the street or walk down the street in a brisk manner.

Gringos will always have there camera in their indian bags. They will almost always be taking pictures of things nobody cares about, such as their food, statues, street names, and other notable landmarks. They must document every five steps of their trip.

If you see a gringo, DO NOT ENGAGE! Run away if possible. They will get you killed. Or shot. They all have an invisible sign on their back that says "rob and rape me." In that order of course. Preferably.

Scooby Doobie Do Where Are You?

Last Sunday I arrived in Cuenca, the city that I will be staying in for the next few weeks. Some more obversations...

You cannot put toliet paper in the toliet. Next to every toliet there is a trash can where you must put all the toliet paper otherwise you will clog the toliet. The sewage system isn't like the one in the United States and cannot handle things like toliet paper and whatever else Americans like to put in the trash. It smells less than you would think. Generally speaking at least. I don't think anyone has taken a super Jason yet.

I am putting Charles on the endangered species list. By choice, I am walking about two hours a day and I am eating less. Much less. In comparison I might walk 45 minutes at school every day. Now I walk from my host family's host to my school and then back for lunch. In the afternoon I return for lunch and then go back to the school for lesson planning. Each way is about 30 minutes. The other night I could barely finish my dinner. When is the last time I struggled to finish anything? These may be the final days for Charles (my stomach).

The only thing that is saving Charles are all the bakeries. There's some crazy statistic that says there is a bakery for every 14 people Cuenca. I believe it. Every day I go across the street from my school and get a piece of bread at least once or twice a day. It's $0.15 or less per piece. I love it.

Everything is all natural here. The fruit, the meat, everything. It either tastes so much better or it's one of those “grass is always greener” deals. Either way, at every meal I have had a different type of juice to drink. It's great. I stopped asking what things are and now I am either drinking it or eating it. This probably won't end well.

On my way back today I decided to start playing a game “Gringo o Cuencano.” The gringos stand out so much. Whether they're taking pictures or just speaking English, they stick out like a sore thumb.

If gringos stand out like a sore thumb, then I must stand out like a sore thumb on crack. In Cuenca, I am not a gringo but rather a chino. Some market lady cursed me out the other day. I don't know what she said, I didn't hear it, but me cago en la puta madre de ella. :D

I feel like I am one of the international students at OU. I travel in a pack with the other people in my group most of the time. We speak English only even though we all speak Spanish to some degree. We are probably loud as hell. We make, what we like to call, a “gringo train” when we walk home because we're all too cheap to get a taxi (It'd be less than $3) and too scared to walk alone at night.

My host brother has a VW van. Yes, one of the old ones, similar to the Mystery Machine. It's bad ass but it doesn't run at the moment. I hope he gets it fixed because I would love to ride in it.

I haven't had Cui, guinea pig, yet. We did go to a pen that had plenty of Guinea pigs though. I thought it was going to turn out like a trip to the lobster tank at a seafood restaurant. Or at least I wish it did.

They love to honk their horns here. I don't know why. They are so honk happy. They honk their horns while I'm walking on the street. They honk to tell people to move in traffic. They honk their horns because they're bored. They love to honk their goddamn horns.

Driving in the mountains is terrifying. The bus was just about as wide as the road. We were a foot away from the edge. There was a several hundred foot drop. We were about a moment away from death. People were driving behind us, going much faster than us, passing us on turns. People were coming at us on said turns, again faster than us. That may have been the closest to death that I have been to in awhile.

Cigs are $2.50 a pack or less. The most expensive are marlboro. Everything else is less than $2. The smokers here are in heaven. One girl is from Chicago, she pays $9 or $10. Be happy with Ohio prices.

I don't know my own langauge. The other day we had to teach the concept of some and any. My group spent an hour trying to explain the concept to ourselves. The only girl who knew the rules was the only non-native English speaker.

It's really nice not to have the Internet and be off the grid for awhile. I am not fiending nearly as much for the Internet as I thought I would. It's nice to be away from everything you know every once and awhile.

The coffee here is wonderful. It's about twice as strong as it is in the United States. I still drink it black. Even some of the locals think I am crazy to drink it black but I do it anyway. Here's a conversation I had with someone about it:

Amigo: It (the coffee) looks like oil.

Me: But where's the shrimp?

::dead silence::

I won't be making any more dead baby jokes any time soon.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antihumor

The Wave

Tonight was one of those nights that has a one in a million chance of happening, where the stars align just right, and the result is just magic. For the last three or four hours I have been sitting at a bar with 8 other people, 8 other lost souls, and the bartender discussing anything that came to mind. It started off with jokes in Spanish that lead to anything and everything that came to mind. What countries we liked, what countries we don't like, life at home, etc. Nothing was taboo and there was a bond created here that I hope won't be broken. I cannot do this justice in a post, I won't even try, but for a few hours we forgot about our all our inhibitions and were real with one another.

P.S.

Ecuador pictures are up. I have some videos that I have yet to upload, they're worth it I assure you, but for now that's going to have to do.

Reflections at Midnight...

I have nothing but a few randomly scattered thoughts so here we go:

1. The cars are mind boggling.
I have never seen so many Nissan Sentras, Chevy Aveos, Hyundai Accents, and VW Rabbits in the last three days. This is the land of subcompact cars. They're everywhere. A good number of these are taxis but the majority of them aren't. They're not all from the same era either. Quito has a blend of cars from the last 30 years. It's not uncommon to see an original Beetle driving next to a Honda CRV. It's great. I wish I could drive one. A beetle I mean.

And even if I had the chance I wouldn't be able to because every car down here is manual. I don't think I've seen a single automatic. Even our "tour" bus is a manual. Driving in America is easy mode as far as I'm concerned.

And many of the cars are rebadges. Rebadges are cars made by one company with the name of another. The Chevy Aveo is the best example for it's a Daewood. Examples:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chevy_luv
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chevrolet_Grand_Vitara
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chevy_aveo#Central_and_South_America

Oh yeah, they love Chevy too.

2. Remember Sacagawea dollar coins? No? You probably haven't seen one in the last 10 years, I know I haven't, because they're all here in Ecuador. They love them down here. I keep getting them. I don't know why but I'm not complaining. They're easier to carry than dollar bills but they're also easier to lose too. :(.

3. There must be a ton of Chinese here in Ecuador. I haven't seen them but I know that they're here. There was a giant poster on how to fill out the papers for customs in Spanish, English, and Chinese. There are more than a fair share of Chinese restaurants down here as well.

4. Burger King abroad does not taste any different. It's just smaller. I know, I should've gone elsewhere but I was in a mall and it was the cheapest thing I could find. Malls down here are the same as they are in the states. If the signs weren't in Spanish I would've thought I was still in Ohio.

5. If technology ceased to exist the rural areas would still exist. I was away from a computer for a day and I was fiending for Internet. These rural farmers have almost nothing but their farms and they live just fine. I envy them in many ways. Being unplugged is nice until you check your email. 20 unread emails is not fun.

6. The mountain roads are beautiful but they're absolutely terrifying. The roads have several hundred feet drops at places. My ears were popping on the way to Otavalo, due to the change in altitude. The view was spectacular but around these corners with the large drops people were passing us and we were passing slower trucks. Along the way you see crosses on the edge to mark where cars have fallen off. My gut was in knots as we were passing cars on these corners and this is a normal highway. I can't imagine what it's like to drive along "El Camino de la Muerte" or the Death Road. Google that. Or watch the Top Gear Bolivia episode. Or both.

7. I feel bad for the Indigenous People. On one hand they're still around and thriving unlike the Native Americans in the United States. They still have some of their land and a lot of the Spanish spoken here is blended with Kichwa, a dialect of Quechua. On one hand, we've seen several natives who are also completely self sufficient. They are still using the same techniques to make clothes and cook as they did hundreds of years ago. Then it hit me. After looking at all of the traditional cookware they tried to sell us the ponchos and blankets they just showed us how they made them. Such a beautiful culture that has been ruined by tourism. I went to an entire market that was just the natives selling these ponchos, scarves, and purses. I've been accosted on the street to buy these same things. I suppose this is better than casinos though.

8. No matter where I go all I hear is American music. I don't even know the names or the artists or the songs but they're all there. All the same pop music bullshit.

9. Death Metal is a fantastic complement to viewing all the scenery of the mountains and rural areas. I don't know why. It started off as an experiment, black metal is fun to listen to while it snows and it's stuck. I guess I'll try this out again tomorrow.

10. Quito doesn't feel like it's another country. The realization that I am in another country hit me when I was in Otavalo, another smaller city. This city might as well be Miami or any major city in California. Most of the TV channels are in English with Spanish subtitles. The music on the radio is American. I've seen more ads for places like McDonalds, Burger King, etc than anything else.

11. Coca Cola is huge down here. I've seen Pepsi twice but I've had Coke with just about every meal. It also tastes better down here. There's no high fructose corn syrup. It's like if Coke came out with Coca-Cola Throwback. It's all real sugar. It tastes less heavy and a three liter bottle is $1.70 USD. I was carrying around a bottle I bought yesterday like a baby.

12. The Americans are easy to spot. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's their clothes. Nobody wears shorts down here. Maybe it's because they're speaking English or broken Spanish. Mostly though, they're loud as hell. We were walking past a camera store and these two women came out screaming to their friends across the street, "IT WORKS IT WORKS!" So much for a low profile.

13. I can't upload any photos to facebook right now so you're going to have to wait. The scenery is great. I have about 80 pictures so far and maybe 10 minutes of video. You won't be disappointed, I promise.

14. This place isn't as scary people perceive it to be. Sure I could be robbed here but the same could happen in any other large city like New York or Chicago. Everyone told me to come back alive but again I could've died in a city like New York or Chicago. If you go to the "wrong" part of NYC they don't speak English either. Just be calm, walk with other people, and don't draw attention to yourself and you'll be fine.

I think that's all for now.

Also, cocks.