Posts
Sometimes people email me after reading my blog with questions about traveling to Ecuador or other relevant topics. It's always a little startling to see someone I don't know has been reading my blog and felt so inclined to email me, but it's always a good feeling and I take the time to respond as best I can. Sometimes people have simple questions about Cuenca or Ecuador as a whole, and sometimes they even ask if they can meet up.
I got an email a couple of days ago from a woman who is going to be traveling through South America, and after reading my blog about bus hijackings, was considering canceling any travel through this country. I just wanted to take a moment to point out that you can still travel to Ecuador and be perfectly safe.
While I don't recommend taking a night bus in this country, travel by day is usually OK. It might not be perfect, but you're not risking death either. I don't want people to think that any negative things I might have written have been aimed at deterring travel here. I've had some great experiences traveling throughout this country, and I'd feel really badly if I found out that people were avoiding coming here based off of my writing. That would be counterproductive. I want to give a better insight into Ecuador, not be afraid of it.
So, in conclusion, feel free to travel to this country. It's probably just as safe as any other country in the region, and if you're going to take the time and risk of hitting up Colombia, Peru, or Bolivia, you might as well take some time for Ecuador as well. There are great people here and great things to do. But, as always, practice caution when you're on the road and make smart decisions. And you'll have a great time.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
What I Remember
This afternoon I gave the last final exam of the year. I'm not completely done, however, because next Tuesday I need to go to the university to help give a placement test for next year. But for all intents and purposes, I'm finished with my teaching experience at the University of Cuenca, and in Ecuador. I'm happy, but it's still a bit surreal to be walking from the university knowing that it's probably the second to last time I'll be doing so.
My mind has been busily trying to think of where I could travel to this week, and I've been going back and forth from the jungle, the coast, Colombia, and now Peru. I still can't make up my mind, but I think if I go anywhere I'll go to Mancora, Peru for a couple of days. It's 8 hours away from Cuenca, with a stop at the border to change buses and stamp the old passport. Otherwise, I've been thinking about what my return to the United States will be like.
Knowing that my days are numbered, I've been thinking about what I remember about home. Though I've been gone 10 1/2 months, my memory is still vivid. It's July now, so I'm sure it's plenty hot and the grass is probably hard and turning to hay under the baking sun. Though I know how I left my room, I'm sure my mom has added piles of junk all over the place that I'll inevitably throw out the door as soon as I get home. This happened to me every time I came home from college. She always expects that I'll want a bunch of free pens that she got from work.
I know that the family got a new TV, and has been putting in a new rug in the living room, so I will be walking into a place that wasn't what it was before. And I guess that's the definition of reverse culture shock. I'm almost scared in a way to be going home. I'm not sure how I'll be affected, though I'm hopeful that since it's only 3 weeks, I won't get too comfortable. After living in Spain for 5 months I didn't feel reverse culture shock, just boredom from returning to a suburb after living in a European city. I couldn't even drink legally for a couple of months after hanging out in bars all over the continent.
But I've been here almost a year now, and I know things will be different. I know that prices will just blow my mind. I look at a menu and if a meal is $2.50 I laugh at how expensive it is. A liter beer over $1.50 is a rip off. Attitudes towards certain conduct will also be difficult to adjust to. If we don't feel like drinking in bar, we can save money by just drinking in the street. But that will never happen back home. That thought actually came to me today when I realized I wouldn't be able to afford drinking in Boston. I thought, "Oh well I'll just drink in the street...ah crap, I can't do that in Boston. Damn Puritans." My friend told me one night he dropped almost $100 altogether on a night out in Boston. I'm not even going to explain how insane that sounds to me.
In order to get better adjusted here, I emptied my mind of all things American, or in theory as much as I could. I didn't think of home that much to avoid homesickness, and I continued as if this was my life. But now I need to switch back, for a short time anyway. And I'm just not sure if I can do that. I remember how uncomfortable I felt at parties when I'd just gotten back from Spain, not relating to what people were talking about and feeling like I knew something they didn't know. I can almost guarantee I'll feel that way again.
My only saving point is that I'm going to be home for such a short period of time that it will be just enough time to be refreshing, catching up with friends and family. And just around the time I'm getting bored and antsy, it will be time to move on again. And I can be sure of this, after 11 months of living in the mountains, going from the extremes of hot afternoons to freezing nights, always wearing pants and having a jacket on hand, it will be such a relief to just be hot and sweat. I don't even care about air conditioning, at least now. I want to wear shorts and a t-shirt, oh man what a rush that will be. 20 days out.
My mind has been busily trying to think of where I could travel to this week, and I've been going back and forth from the jungle, the coast, Colombia, and now Peru. I still can't make up my mind, but I think if I go anywhere I'll go to Mancora, Peru for a couple of days. It's 8 hours away from Cuenca, with a stop at the border to change buses and stamp the old passport. Otherwise, I've been thinking about what my return to the United States will be like.
Knowing that my days are numbered, I've been thinking about what I remember about home. Though I've been gone 10 1/2 months, my memory is still vivid. It's July now, so I'm sure it's plenty hot and the grass is probably hard and turning to hay under the baking sun. Though I know how I left my room, I'm sure my mom has added piles of junk all over the place that I'll inevitably throw out the door as soon as I get home. This happened to me every time I came home from college. She always expects that I'll want a bunch of free pens that she got from work.
I know that the family got a new TV, and has been putting in a new rug in the living room, so I will be walking into a place that wasn't what it was before. And I guess that's the definition of reverse culture shock. I'm almost scared in a way to be going home. I'm not sure how I'll be affected, though I'm hopeful that since it's only 3 weeks, I won't get too comfortable. After living in Spain for 5 months I didn't feel reverse culture shock, just boredom from returning to a suburb after living in a European city. I couldn't even drink legally for a couple of months after hanging out in bars all over the continent.
But I've been here almost a year now, and I know things will be different. I know that prices will just blow my mind. I look at a menu and if a meal is $2.50 I laugh at how expensive it is. A liter beer over $1.50 is a rip off. Attitudes towards certain conduct will also be difficult to adjust to. If we don't feel like drinking in bar, we can save money by just drinking in the street. But that will never happen back home. That thought actually came to me today when I realized I wouldn't be able to afford drinking in Boston. I thought, "Oh well I'll just drink in the street...ah crap, I can't do that in Boston. Damn Puritans." My friend told me one night he dropped almost $100 altogether on a night out in Boston. I'm not even going to explain how insane that sounds to me.
In order to get better adjusted here, I emptied my mind of all things American, or in theory as much as I could. I didn't think of home that much to avoid homesickness, and I continued as if this was my life. But now I need to switch back, for a short time anyway. And I'm just not sure if I can do that. I remember how uncomfortable I felt at parties when I'd just gotten back from Spain, not relating to what people were talking about and feeling like I knew something they didn't know. I can almost guarantee I'll feel that way again.
My only saving point is that I'm going to be home for such a short period of time that it will be just enough time to be refreshing, catching up with friends and family. And just around the time I'm getting bored and antsy, it will be time to move on again. And I can be sure of this, after 11 months of living in the mountains, going from the extremes of hot afternoons to freezing nights, always wearing pants and having a jacket on hand, it will be such a relief to just be hot and sweat. I don't even care about air conditioning, at least now. I want to wear shorts and a t-shirt, oh man what a rush that will be. 20 days out.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Quick Decisions
After tomorrow I have a week off with nothing to do. And I need to decide what to do. I've already come close to madness with boredom from three days of having nothing to do last week. I think 7 straight days of that would be just too much. And what's worse is that after July 21st, I have absolutely nothing to do until I leave. So I want to take one more trip.
But I'm thinking of my options and I'm not really sure. I haven't really taken a big trip into the jungle yet, but it's so far away, and I'm not sure how badly I want to take a 10 or so hour bus ride. I could head down to Mancora, Peru for the beach. I've heard good things about Mancora, and it's about 8 hours away from Cuenca. Crossing the border could be a little sketchy, but I know a lot of people who've done it. If I were to travel down there, I'd probably be going by myself, and I'm not sure how much time I want to spend.
Money is an issue, and though I have enough, I'm also trying to save up for Argentina. With that being said, even getting out of Cuenca for a couple of days would be a welcome relief. I heard that the beaches in Ecuador are now too cold to go to, unless you head way up north, maybe 20 hours or more by bus. I'm going to continue to scour my guide book for ideas, but basically there isn't a ton of possibility. I do want to get out of here for a few days though, and so that's what I'll be working on for the next couple of days.
But I'm thinking of my options and I'm not really sure. I haven't really taken a big trip into the jungle yet, but it's so far away, and I'm not sure how badly I want to take a 10 or so hour bus ride. I could head down to Mancora, Peru for the beach. I've heard good things about Mancora, and it's about 8 hours away from Cuenca. Crossing the border could be a little sketchy, but I know a lot of people who've done it. If I were to travel down there, I'd probably be going by myself, and I'm not sure how much time I want to spend.
Money is an issue, and though I have enough, I'm also trying to save up for Argentina. With that being said, even getting out of Cuenca for a couple of days would be a welcome relief. I heard that the beaches in Ecuador are now too cold to go to, unless you head way up north, maybe 20 hours or more by bus. I'm going to continue to scour my guide book for ideas, but basically there isn't a ton of possibility. I do want to get out of here for a few days though, and so that's what I'll be working on for the next couple of days.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Fear and Loathing in Cuenca
We're now well into the 13th hour of this miserable, sunny day in Cuenca. I'm still drunk, and I'm trying to piece together last night while slowly rubbing my left fingers over the scrapes and cuts on my right wrist and hand. I watched a lot of material with Hunter S. Thompson last night, so excuse me if this piece comes along as Gonzo. That's just the way it is.
The night started off innocently enough. Sitting in the apartment of my friend Charlie, we sipped on rum and cokes while watching "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," not sure of where our nights would go. But suddenly the lap top overheated and we had to stop watching halfway in. Now it was clear, we would have to leave the apartment. Charlie was already on edge because he heard that his neighbors below had complained about noise the last two nights, despite the fact that I was with him, out of the apartment. So we left, into the cold, misty night.
We met up with Lauren and another girl, Michelle, who's studying Spanish here for a month. We met her about 2 months ago in Vilcabamba, and she'd like Cuenca enough to return. Soon enough they'd decided to leave for home, so Charlie and I continued into a cheap shot bar, where I ran into an acquaintance, Gaby, who'd been missing for some time. We talked and caught up, in between dollar shots that we never paid for. Somewhere in the mix a friend of Gaby's, a guy, continued to buy us shots and attempt to swoon her. All we were talking about was a mutual friend, but he obviously didn't know this.
Leaving the bar, we were going to someone's car to head somewhere, but we stopped along the way for some reason. I don't know why, my memory is fuzzy and a lot of this new information was relayed to me by Charlie this morning. Something happened, the other guy was obviously jealous that I was talking to Gaby and she wasn't interested in him, so he grabbed my head and made dick sucking noises. Well, I'm not going to put up with that, I must have thought. Charlie says I went for the throat and was choking him and then tackled him, and once on the street, I proceeded to give him some good punches in the face.
The ironic thing is that I really don't like to fight. See, the thing is I'm a writer, and having messed up fingers does me no good. At the beginning of my senior year I got into a fight and broke two knuckles, right after getting an internship. This made it very difficult to type, and besides the shame and embarrassment of getting into a fight in front of so many people, whether or not it was just, which it was, I realized that I could ill afford to get into these situations again. Perhaps more ironic is that I was wearing the same shirt last night that I wore on the night of that other fight. The last time, the buttons were ripped out. This time, the shirt was ruined beyond repair, with blood and later on puke all over it.
So we faught for a moment until Charlie pulled me off and I sat myself on the curb while the other guy stood away getting scorned by the girls. And then, though I don't quite understand it, I started to cry. I never cry. Not to sound like a macho man, but I don't. What I was thinking of, though I don't know why, was my friend Ty that died this week. I had been pushing it down, but suddenly this fight brough it up. I wasn't crying hysterically, but tears were coming down, and I kept saying that he was only 20 years old. Charlie told me to forget it, and though I did try, it was tough. I was bleeding badly from the nose and my nice, white shirt that I'd bought in Spain years ago was covered.
We stood there until everyone else left, and then headed over to my safe spot, the bar/grill Chiplote, where no one would mess with me. They're all good people, and when I walked in they showed general concern, wanting to know who'd done this. Without any thought of payment, the owner, my friend Paul passed me two shots of Tequila, most definitely unnecessary. I cleaned up a bit, and from then on my memory is mostly gone.
Charlie tells me that him and his roommate Lucho had to carry me down the steps to their apartment, with the help of some German kid who saw the mess. I was also sitting on the ground outside Chiplote for a while. My legs just would not work, and Charlie think I might have been drugged by one of the shots that kid gave me. Because after all, as a seasoned drinker, why would I collapse like so, even though I don't really take shots anymore. But somewhere in this whole mess of a night, the evil got out, and rock bottom was very nearly hit, if not scraped.
And the rest is just a flash of being in their apartment, puking and dry heaving, hearing voices, waking up on the floor in a sunny, cold living room. My shirt in the bucket which sat next to my head. These things happen every weekend, maybe every night, all over the world. A street fight in Cuenca is no different than one in Boston, but maybe the fact that it happened now, so close to my departure, is intriguing. I wasn't being robbed, and I wasn't being a jerk, but this fight came to me. Who knows why fights ever happen at all? I guess sometimes we just get down to primal instincts and behavior.
And now I need to ride out this day, avoiding even the thought of alcohol and hoping for some kind of redeeming action. Something to make up for last nights' schoolyard scrap. If we could only be able to make up for everything like that. So easy, so calm, so good.
The night started off innocently enough. Sitting in the apartment of my friend Charlie, we sipped on rum and cokes while watching "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," not sure of where our nights would go. But suddenly the lap top overheated and we had to stop watching halfway in. Now it was clear, we would have to leave the apartment. Charlie was already on edge because he heard that his neighbors below had complained about noise the last two nights, despite the fact that I was with him, out of the apartment. So we left, into the cold, misty night.
We met up with Lauren and another girl, Michelle, who's studying Spanish here for a month. We met her about 2 months ago in Vilcabamba, and she'd like Cuenca enough to return. Soon enough they'd decided to leave for home, so Charlie and I continued into a cheap shot bar, where I ran into an acquaintance, Gaby, who'd been missing for some time. We talked and caught up, in between dollar shots that we never paid for. Somewhere in the mix a friend of Gaby's, a guy, continued to buy us shots and attempt to swoon her. All we were talking about was a mutual friend, but he obviously didn't know this.
Leaving the bar, we were going to someone's car to head somewhere, but we stopped along the way for some reason. I don't know why, my memory is fuzzy and a lot of this new information was relayed to me by Charlie this morning. Something happened, the other guy was obviously jealous that I was talking to Gaby and she wasn't interested in him, so he grabbed my head and made dick sucking noises. Well, I'm not going to put up with that, I must have thought. Charlie says I went for the throat and was choking him and then tackled him, and once on the street, I proceeded to give him some good punches in the face.
The ironic thing is that I really don't like to fight. See, the thing is I'm a writer, and having messed up fingers does me no good. At the beginning of my senior year I got into a fight and broke two knuckles, right after getting an internship. This made it very difficult to type, and besides the shame and embarrassment of getting into a fight in front of so many people, whether or not it was just, which it was, I realized that I could ill afford to get into these situations again. Perhaps more ironic is that I was wearing the same shirt last night that I wore on the night of that other fight. The last time, the buttons were ripped out. This time, the shirt was ruined beyond repair, with blood and later on puke all over it.
So we faught for a moment until Charlie pulled me off and I sat myself on the curb while the other guy stood away getting scorned by the girls. And then, though I don't quite understand it, I started to cry. I never cry. Not to sound like a macho man, but I don't. What I was thinking of, though I don't know why, was my friend Ty that died this week. I had been pushing it down, but suddenly this fight brough it up. I wasn't crying hysterically, but tears were coming down, and I kept saying that he was only 20 years old. Charlie told me to forget it, and though I did try, it was tough. I was bleeding badly from the nose and my nice, white shirt that I'd bought in Spain years ago was covered.
We stood there until everyone else left, and then headed over to my safe spot, the bar/grill Chiplote, where no one would mess with me. They're all good people, and when I walked in they showed general concern, wanting to know who'd done this. Without any thought of payment, the owner, my friend Paul passed me two shots of Tequila, most definitely unnecessary. I cleaned up a bit, and from then on my memory is mostly gone.
Charlie tells me that him and his roommate Lucho had to carry me down the steps to their apartment, with the help of some German kid who saw the mess. I was also sitting on the ground outside Chiplote for a while. My legs just would not work, and Charlie think I might have been drugged by one of the shots that kid gave me. Because after all, as a seasoned drinker, why would I collapse like so, even though I don't really take shots anymore. But somewhere in this whole mess of a night, the evil got out, and rock bottom was very nearly hit, if not scraped.
And the rest is just a flash of being in their apartment, puking and dry heaving, hearing voices, waking up on the floor in a sunny, cold living room. My shirt in the bucket which sat next to my head. These things happen every weekend, maybe every night, all over the world. A street fight in Cuenca is no different than one in Boston, but maybe the fact that it happened now, so close to my departure, is intriguing. I wasn't being robbed, and I wasn't being a jerk, but this fight came to me. Who knows why fights ever happen at all? I guess sometimes we just get down to primal instincts and behavior.
And now I need to ride out this day, avoiding even the thought of alcohol and hoping for some kind of redeeming action. Something to make up for last nights' schoolyard scrap. If we could only be able to make up for everything like that. So easy, so calm, so good.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Future Planning
These last few weeks in Ecuador are going to be ruled by my need to find ways to keep busy. As of yesterday afternoon, I have nothing to do with the university until Monday. There was a possibility of going to the beach for the weekend, but I don't think that will happen. And worse still is that after Monday I have nothing to do for another week. When I learned this I started doing some research.
For the hell of it I looked up flights from Guayaquil and Quito to Medellin, Colombia. Using BargainTravel, which I'd previously used for flights to Chile and Peru, I found a deal of $242 before taxes, which is pretty good for international airfare. A friend of mine who's looking for a job in Medellin right now was going to be heading back there shortly, so suddenly it looked like I could be heading to Colombia for a few days.
Even though it still has the image of cartels, violence, and kidnappings, I've heard nothing but good things about Colombia. Everyone who goes loves the people, the food, and the women. In fact, it's probably now safer than Ecuador. Rumors say that Colombia has pushed out many of the major cartels, and they now operate out of the coast of Ecuador. But that's unconfirmed on my end, just a rumor. Anyway, I tried getting back to that Web site for the deal again, but suddenly as of yesterday afternoon I'm no longer able to access the page with the airfare. Something about being foreign and needing 7 days to check the credit card. Yet in the morning it worked.
So I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it to Colombia. I checked in at a couple of travel agencies yesterday as well, and their prices were too high for me. But someone told me if you go to the supermarket you can buy airfare for $250 to Medellin. So this afternoon I'm going to take a walk down there and see what the deal is.
If I don't wind up going to Colombia, I'm still probably going to go somewhere, just because I have so much time and nothing to do here. One possibility is going to the jungle, the last region of Ecuador that I haven't really explored. There are a few places I can head to, but they're not exactly close to Cuenca. Another option is going to Mancora, Peru, which is a popular beach town about 8 hours away. Mancora is supposed to be kind of like Montanita, here in Ecuador. That means it's a surfing town by day and party town by night. I don't think I'll try surfing, but it will be nice to get to the beach one more time and to go back to Peru.
I'll keep posted what my plans wind up being, and hopefully I'll be able to do something worthwhile.
For the hell of it I looked up flights from Guayaquil and Quito to Medellin, Colombia. Using BargainTravel, which I'd previously used for flights to Chile and Peru, I found a deal of $242 before taxes, which is pretty good for international airfare. A friend of mine who's looking for a job in Medellin right now was going to be heading back there shortly, so suddenly it looked like I could be heading to Colombia for a few days.
Even though it still has the image of cartels, violence, and kidnappings, I've heard nothing but good things about Colombia. Everyone who goes loves the people, the food, and the women. In fact, it's probably now safer than Ecuador. Rumors say that Colombia has pushed out many of the major cartels, and they now operate out of the coast of Ecuador. But that's unconfirmed on my end, just a rumor. Anyway, I tried getting back to that Web site for the deal again, but suddenly as of yesterday afternoon I'm no longer able to access the page with the airfare. Something about being foreign and needing 7 days to check the credit card. Yet in the morning it worked.
So I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it to Colombia. I checked in at a couple of travel agencies yesterday as well, and their prices were too high for me. But someone told me if you go to the supermarket you can buy airfare for $250 to Medellin. So this afternoon I'm going to take a walk down there and see what the deal is.
If I don't wind up going to Colombia, I'm still probably going to go somewhere, just because I have so much time and nothing to do here. One possibility is going to the jungle, the last region of Ecuador that I haven't really explored. There are a few places I can head to, but they're not exactly close to Cuenca. Another option is going to Mancora, Peru, which is a popular beach town about 8 hours away. Mancora is supposed to be kind of like Montanita, here in Ecuador. That means it's a surfing town by day and party town by night. I don't think I'll try surfing, but it will be nice to get to the beach one more time and to go back to Peru.
I'll keep posted what my plans wind up being, and hopefully I'll be able to do something worthwhile.
A Quick Tribute to Ty Richardson
Last night I learned of some sad news from back home. A friend of mine that I used to work with for a couple of years, Ty Richardson, died in a car crash on Sunday, July 5th. He was only 20 years old. Apparently he wasn't wearing his seat belt and was thrown from his car.
Ty was a great kid, and since we both worked at Gillette Stadium, a place where we often had hours upon hours of down time, we did a lot of talking, sunflower seed eating, Dunkin Donuts coffee sipping, and joking around. The first day I met him he had started with a group of friends. I was going around giving them all nicknames and took one look at him and said, "Bobcat." It stuck immediately, and though some people often reject a new nickname, Ty took to it and really enjoyed it. A while later someone had asked me if I'd seen Ty and I had no idea who they were talking about until they clarified with "Bobcat."
Ty was always there to make you smile, talk about hockey, or whatever other nonsense was going on. I remember he once showed up to work about 40 minutes late. As he stepped out of his car the supervisor asked him what happened. With his Dunkin Donuts coffee in his hand he took a sip, looked up and said, "Traffic was brutal." And he got away with it. He was one of those kids that could do that. You couldn't get mad at him.
And though I haven't talked to him in over a year and haven't worked at the stadium in as long, I still feel badly for his family and friends back in Massachusetts who now have to go on without him. The world's a colder place without him.
Rest in Peace, Ty.
Ty was a great kid, and since we both worked at Gillette Stadium, a place where we often had hours upon hours of down time, we did a lot of talking, sunflower seed eating, Dunkin Donuts coffee sipping, and joking around. The first day I met him he had started with a group of friends. I was going around giving them all nicknames and took one look at him and said, "Bobcat." It stuck immediately, and though some people often reject a new nickname, Ty took to it and really enjoyed it. A while later someone had asked me if I'd seen Ty and I had no idea who they were talking about until they clarified with "Bobcat."
Ty was always there to make you smile, talk about hockey, or whatever other nonsense was going on. I remember he once showed up to work about 40 minutes late. As he stepped out of his car the supervisor asked him what happened. With his Dunkin Donuts coffee in his hand he took a sip, looked up and said, "Traffic was brutal." And he got away with it. He was one of those kids that could do that. You couldn't get mad at him.
And though I haven't talked to him in over a year and haven't worked at the stadium in as long, I still feel badly for his family and friends back in Massachusetts who now have to go on without him. The world's a colder place without him.
Rest in Peace, Ty.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Typical Behavior
This week is kind of tough in the sense that I need to find ways to keep myself busy in between doing nothing. Yesterday I only had one final to attend to at 7 pm, so I had an entire day beforehand to work with. In the morning I went for a long run and then started watching a movie until lunch. Afterward, I met up with my friend Jamie and her sister who is visiting. We took her sister to Spanish lessons and then walked around Cuenca for a couple of hours until the class had ended. By that point, I had to go home for dinner and to get ready to go to the university.
So it wound up being OK. I was outside for a good part of the day and kept busy. But when I got to the university I was told that I didn't really need to be there for the final because none of my students were taking it. This was a make up final for students who'd failed the first one, and none of mine had failed. So, in typical fashion, a day was wasted and no one had bothered to tell me that I didn't need to come down. However, there were two changes that I needed to take note of.
For the next day, today, I was supposed to have two finals at 1 pm and 7 pm. But there were two notes in my locker saying otherwise. The first note said that my final at 1 pm was now switched to be with a different professor. Basically, we all have to sit in on another professors' final exam and help with the oral section. But now I was supposed to help a different teacher. The second note said that I didn't have to go to any of the finals at 1 pm, and instead of the final I had at 7 pm, I was supposed to help another teacher at 7 pm. I was a little confused.
To double check I went to the secretary and asked her about 5 times to make sure that I had nothing at 1 pm and only at 7 pm with the newly assigned professor. She confirmed this, and I went home happy, knowing that again I would only have one thing to do at the university the next day. I watched another movie at night and then went to bed.
Today I woke up a bit later than usual, went for a run, and then hung around my room until lunch. Right as we were sitting down to eat, around 1:15 pm, I started getting calls from numbers I didn't recognize, but I already had an idea what it was. I didn't answer the first three calls until a fellow professor called. He said that I was supposed to be at a final at 1 pm and that everyone was looking for me. I told him quite frankly that, no, I did not have a final because there was a change. Not only did I have a note with proof of this, but the secretary confirmed this last night. But he continued that I was supposed to be there. Too bad, I said, I'm eating lunch and not going down to the university.
After lunch I went back to my room and got another call from a different secretary asking me where I was, and I told her the same thing. All she could say was that no, I was supposed to be there, and asked if I could come down to the university. I told her that I couldn't, and that the other secretary had already told me I had no exam. It's not my fault that they messed up, and I wasn't about to rush down there and fix their mistake. Especially since by the time I got there most of the students would probably be done with their exams.
So, in more typical Ecuadorian behavior, nothing made sense and no one took responsibility for what happened. I need to go down to the university for the 7 o'clock final shortly, and I'm sure someone is going to try to blame me for this. But I will not take responsibility for childish behavior by adults. And since I'm at the end of my service here, I feel no need to bend over backwards for the university. For an institution that has so much prestige, not just in Cuenca but in Ecuador, it's amazing how inefficient and unorganized it is. Yet again, I'm hardly surprised by any of this 10 months into living here. To take a line from Bob Marley, "Don't worry, cuz every little thing is gonna be alright." There's always another thing you can do here.
So it wound up being OK. I was outside for a good part of the day and kept busy. But when I got to the university I was told that I didn't really need to be there for the final because none of my students were taking it. This was a make up final for students who'd failed the first one, and none of mine had failed. So, in typical fashion, a day was wasted and no one had bothered to tell me that I didn't need to come down. However, there were two changes that I needed to take note of.
For the next day, today, I was supposed to have two finals at 1 pm and 7 pm. But there were two notes in my locker saying otherwise. The first note said that my final at 1 pm was now switched to be with a different professor. Basically, we all have to sit in on another professors' final exam and help with the oral section. But now I was supposed to help a different teacher. The second note said that I didn't have to go to any of the finals at 1 pm, and instead of the final I had at 7 pm, I was supposed to help another teacher at 7 pm. I was a little confused.
To double check I went to the secretary and asked her about 5 times to make sure that I had nothing at 1 pm and only at 7 pm with the newly assigned professor. She confirmed this, and I went home happy, knowing that again I would only have one thing to do at the university the next day. I watched another movie at night and then went to bed.
Today I woke up a bit later than usual, went for a run, and then hung around my room until lunch. Right as we were sitting down to eat, around 1:15 pm, I started getting calls from numbers I didn't recognize, but I already had an idea what it was. I didn't answer the first three calls until a fellow professor called. He said that I was supposed to be at a final at 1 pm and that everyone was looking for me. I told him quite frankly that, no, I did not have a final because there was a change. Not only did I have a note with proof of this, but the secretary confirmed this last night. But he continued that I was supposed to be there. Too bad, I said, I'm eating lunch and not going down to the university.
After lunch I went back to my room and got another call from a different secretary asking me where I was, and I told her the same thing. All she could say was that no, I was supposed to be there, and asked if I could come down to the university. I told her that I couldn't, and that the other secretary had already told me I had no exam. It's not my fault that they messed up, and I wasn't about to rush down there and fix their mistake. Especially since by the time I got there most of the students would probably be done with their exams.
So, in more typical Ecuadorian behavior, nothing made sense and no one took responsibility for what happened. I need to go down to the university for the 7 o'clock final shortly, and I'm sure someone is going to try to blame me for this. But I will not take responsibility for childish behavior by adults. And since I'm at the end of my service here, I feel no need to bend over backwards for the university. For an institution that has so much prestige, not just in Cuenca but in Ecuador, it's amazing how inefficient and unorganized it is. Yet again, I'm hardly surprised by any of this 10 months into living here. To take a line from Bob Marley, "Don't worry, cuz every little thing is gonna be alright." There's always another thing you can do here.
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