Tremors.

The Equator line at "Mitad del Mundo"

Jesse has been in both hemispheres at the same time. Rad.


Driving here is an event. When Pico y Placa ends, and all license plate numbers are once again allowed on the street, the roads sprout cars and the city bursts to life. And people get killed.

Arlene says Ecuador has the highest number of traffic related deaths in the world. Now, add earth tremors to the mix, and you've really got your hands full.

We felt it on our way to church this morning. At first, I thought the engine was making the car jumpy. And then we noticed the taxi in front of us bouncing around. James thought someone hit us from the back. All very plausible ideas, until Arlene let us know it was an earthquake.

Our first earthquake in Quito, Ecuador!

What an adventure! That said, let's hope it stays our first, and our biggest issue remains ignorant drivers and a disregard for any possible road etiquette.

James has already pointed out that my driving skills would fit right in here. He isn't wrong.

The info session for the English classes was supposed to start at 9 am. That was to ensure we got started by at least 9:45 am. Turned out, a 9:45 start time was a bit ambitious, so we pushed it to 10. And still someone showed up at 11:30 am. It makes me wonder how much a "2 hour" class will allow us to cover. If people are accustomed to the "trickle in" approach, I can't imagine we'll get past basic intro's. Being a teacher from N.A, but living in S.America, I am torn by what "rules" to adhere to. Am I to enforce a start time, regardless of non-existent attendance? Or, do I go with the flow, start an hour late, and get through only half of the material? A lose- lose at this point. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Yesterday morning I had a real cultural experience, making roughly 200 "guagua de pan" treats for this Sunday's Reformation day service. An indigenous tradition, involving the making of bread children for all saints day (or, the day of the dead) which is celebrated at the start of November. We drove to the church, picked up Rosi, Rosita, and Elsi, and made our way to Mariasol's home outside the city. This was my first visit inside an Ecuadorian's home. A great first experience. I love that these people love colour. It literally boosts my spirits to walk into a house and see yellow walls. Add fresh bread to the mix, and a pile of women around a table jabbering what is mostly nonsense to my ears, and I am one happy camper. I believe I was assessed to be the youngest and possibly the strongest female present, and was appointed to knead roughly 8lbs of dough until the perfect consistency was reached. Failing at that, grandmother willow (Mariasol's mom) took over, and I watched in awe as bread children practically formed themselves in her experienced hands. For about 2 hours we kneaded, formed, decorated and baked bread for this upcoming Sunday service. And when the last tray was set to baking, Mariasol served up "choclo" (ecuadorian white corn) con queso y leche. I guess the thing to do here is boil cheese and milk and drench your corn in it. It's something to write home about.

Once all our little bread men were baked, we packed up, set off, got lost, re-routed ourselves, and eventually made it back home. James and I were supposed to meet up with a friend near the Alliance Academy, but we ran out of time. Instead we opted for a date night at the theater-- a good opportunity to get out of the house and try our luck with a cab. It was a big step for us. Arlene gave me two instructions. Tell the driver where to take us, and make sure he sets the meter. Well, he didnt' set the meter, and when I insisted he set the meter, he got good and pissed off. I told James to get out, and as James opened the door, he said he'd get us there for $1. 50. Price settled, we re-settled, and made it to the mall without being charged extra. It was too bad we had to go and upset him though.

My set of instructions for the return trip were similar, and things would have gone without a hitch had we known how to get ourselves out of the mall. Apparently, they shut down every door leading out of the mall except for one after a certain hour, and that pops you out into a garage -of all places- where you can't help but feel completely exposed as trucks whip in and pick up gangs meandering across the lot. That's right- gangs. (Completely kidding-- they were probably 14 year old boys who needed their moms to come and get them. But to the eyes of a foreigner at midnight, 'gangs' will suffice :)

Anyways, not knowing where to go to even get a cab, we called Fred. So, mission only half accomplished. We will definitely have to try again to get the full experience.

Arlene has helped us out in the 'experience' department, taking us to Mitad del Mundo to experience the sensation of standing on the Equator line. My body has been in both hemispheres at the same time. I feel like a changed woman.

At least, I did, until Arlene informed us that all the work the French did about 100 years ago to figure out the exact location of the equator line was trumped by our friend, the GPS. Turns out, they were a few hundred meters off, but the museum was nice.

We are enjoying the subtle differences of Ecuadorian life. They have supper at lunch time, and a meal is not a meal unless it is served with rice. Fruit is primarily blended to make juice, and I believe it is better that way. "Kilol" has yet to kill all that is wrong with my stomach, but it sure sounds like the right approach to a stomach bug. Shoes are worn at all times. If you take them off, you will somehow manage to make the floor very dirty. My footprints get everywhere.

People sell fresh fruit on the streets, and with avocados now in season, lunches just got that much better. Dishes are not washed in a sink full of water. They find our technique disgusting and unsanitary. A tub of Avox, some rubber gloves, a course sponge, and an endless supply of running water is all you need. Recycling is not done by the homeowner. Food, cans, clothes go in one garbage can. Poor people come 3X a week to sort it as a source of income (I don't enjoy that one, but I did always suck at recycling). You do not shake hands here--you touch cheeks and kiss the air. Personal space does not exist here, and greetings are intentionally personal. Roses cost 3$ a bunch. With kids, language barriers don't exist.

With time, let's hope language barriers won't exist...

This is my pal Patito. He's 1 years old and understandably couldn't keep his eyes open during the Reformation address on the life of St. Augustine. Neither could I, for that matter...
This is a bubbling cauldron of Colado Morado. A traditional Ecuadorian drink made up of herbs, cinnamon, and a bunch of fruit, with a type of corn starch used to thicken it up. It is made once a year at the start of November. You drink it with a spoon.
Mateo, Lenny and I playing on the slide at church. I was the only one brave enough to go down it (it's a fast slide for a three year old).
The women's bible study group at Mariasol's house making guagua's.

Kneading that 8lbs of dough.
One of Jesse's many admirers.
Both boys raring to go on our 7am walk.
Jesse and I at the doc's awaiting Jesse's 6 month immunizations, and a surprise measles shot. Apparently an epidemic started on the coast and the first few cases have been spotted in Quito. Better safe than sorry. He was a champ.
Ashleigh Dellos-- a friend of a friend-- lives only 15 minutes away from us! She came down for a visit and then met us at the doctor's office. She gave us a tour of the Alliance Academy where she went to school. Very cool building. Very cool girl. We hope to see more of her before the trip ends.