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.