My Room

Not that I want to spoil the image you might have had of what my room looks like, but I feel like it's time to write about the place that I spend 80% of my time in: my bedroom. Apologies in advance if this is dripping with description, much like the burger that I had for 2nd dinner just before coming home was dripping over the sides with mayo and ketchup onto the wax paper. You get the idea of where this is going..

You walk up the wooden steps, creaking as always, and then make your way down the narrow hall, under the glass roof and over the glass floor. Looking up, its always either sunny and hot or rainy and cold, yet the glass roof always has a film of dirt on it. When it rains really hard water actually falls through, forcing me to retreat into my room where I can wait for the eventual leak to form by the door. Walking over the glass floor for the first time freaks you out a bit, especially noticing the cracks, but I haven't fallen through yet and the leaning tower of Pisa is still kicking it.

Down the hall, just before the dining room on the right you find your way into my room. The heavy wooden door that you push open slowly falls back, and unless you grab it and gently ease it into the dresser it will make a loud thud, sending shock waves across the apartment. And there she is in all her glory. My dimly lit, windowless room. A quick glance on the right shows the desk with the green felt cover, secured tightly by push pins on the edges which always dig marks into my arms as I sit there typing or lesson planning. The felt makes it nearly impossible to write without putting holes in the paper, lest I have something sturdy underneath.

The table, which sits against a door that would connect to the next room, bears a big weight. Loaded on the right side with my camera bag and wood basket that I got as a gift, it balances out with the left side which hosts my books, binders, and ever growing stack of DVDs. Everything from season 2 of the "Simpsons" to "The Bourne Ultimatum" is loaded up in the top left corner. And moving in on the back of the table are sunglasses, a flash drive, some change, an empty indigenous-designed tequila flask and shot glass, also gifts hug the wall. A small note pad for notes or bookmarks, cash and my ID cards sit to the right, moving around the most of all. On their flank you'd find headphones for Skype and a couple of zip lock bags of small change for my class photocopies, and that's all she wrote.

In the middle of the room you now find the queen size bed, the blankets and sheets falling off. The wooden boards under the bed buckle and bend, giving a crater effect which can't be good for my back. The pillows are probably propped up against the headboard since I was last reading or watching movies in bed. The left and right of the bed are flanked by two small tables which house glasses, books, DVDs in the queue, a watch, keys, water bottle, a Swiss Army knife, a table lamp which is never used, a travel alarm clock, "The First 49 Short Stories", by Ernest Hemingway, and Tums.

But back in the lower left corner of the room where the heavy wooden door now rests is the dresser, where two pairs of pants rest on the doors. Loaded up with clothes and small plastic bags, an assortment of emergency supplies and other toiletries, it gets the job done. On the other side of the room is a pink rack which hosts more books and two hats. Underneath is the dirty laundry sack, and next to that are the shoes. In the upper right corner rests my backpack, the other suitcase forgotten under the bed.

Along the white walls are pictures of Spain that I cut out of a National Geographic calendar. There are also smaller pictures of Quito from a tourist map. After two days with the white walls, I couldn't take it and had to put something up. At least it's something to look at when my eyes start hurting. At first I couldn't read in the room, but in January the light bulb was changed, and now I can get by. Yet without windows, I can't see life going by or get fresh air, which cuts me off in many ways. Creatively and healthily.

Upper left corner leads into the bathroom, and since a toilet against the wall, a sink and a shower are nothing uncommon, it's not really worth the extra words. I will say, however, that the door to the bathroom, which doesn't actually close and has a window in the middle of it, makes it so that there's no separation of the two rooms. You can imagine what this means for the wonderful scents from time to time.

The ceiling in this room, far too high for its own good, is checkered in an odd pattern with water stains and cracks. The floor, wooden and always creaking, with its nails jutting out, can easily ruin a sock or two.

That's all there is to it really, but this is my home, and unfortunately I spend too much time in this room. As depressing as it gets sometimes and as suffocating as it can feel on certain lonely nights, it's always nice to come back after a few days away. It is, after all, my room. I'm sure someday I'll look on it with at least a speck of romanticism, and be proud of myself that I could make it through here for so long. But seriously, I can't wait to get the hell out of this room. I mean, come on, no windows?

Reason for Concern

I have few things down here to keep me entertained while I'm not teaching or running around trying to find something more interesting to do. Since I only work about 20 hours a week, I find a lot of down time, and as a result, wind up spending a lot of time watching DVDs or going on the Internet. Basically, it's like having a lot of down time at home, only instead of sitting on the couch and channel surfing, I'm laying on my bed and watching "Simpsons" DVDs on my lap top. But in the last couple of days, my lap top has been giving me quite a scare.

It's over 2 years old now, my Dell Inspiron E1505, and even though I've heard people complain about Dell computers, I've never had a problem with mine. In fact, it's worked much better than many other computers my friends have had. But lately it's been showing its age. That, and the fact that it only has about 55 gigabytes on it means that I was never able to do anything spectacular with it. I originally bought it because I was going to study in Spain and wanted to be able to play movies on something, as well as have a way to keep in touch with family and friends back home without having to always use an Internet cafe computer.

Originally against lap tops years ago, I soon found myself a fan, and now wouldn't want to go back to a desktop. But that's irrelevant, really. The point is, this computer of mine is dying, and there's really nothing I can do about it. The battery is supposed to last 6 hours, when in reality it lasts for about an hour and a half, leaving me with little time to get everything accomplished on busier days. The memory is nearly full, so it's slower and I can't load up all of my pictures or any new music. And several times in the last couple of days it has simply frozen or been so slow that I couldn't do anything, and I've had to shut it down and try booting it up again.

All of the files of importance are backed up on a hard drive, so I'm not as concerned about losing the writing, pictures, and music I've acquired over the years, but I'm mainly concerned about what I'll do when this lap top dies. As my dad says, the lap top is my life line down here. It's the only way I can really keep in touch with anyone frequently and entertain myself. It's how I'm able to write so many of these blogs without the hassle of having to go to a cafe and spend extra money. I don't have a ton of friends to hang out with down here, and can't always bother the same people to do something, especially during the week. And in my house it's usually just me in my room with no windows and dim lighting. It's how I can relax with some music, or just watch some movie or show after a day of work before bed. Sure, I have some books I can read, but reading for 7 hours a day was something I did in college.

I know that for my next computer I'd want to get a Macbook, and though I was originally not a fan of Macs, I've slowly warmed up to them. The only problem is there's no way I can afford even the base model. Not with a move to Argentina coming up and a low bank account figure. And there are other things I want or need. I want a new iPod to replace the one that was stolen back in September. I want a better lens for my camera. I want some new clothes. It seems like everything is starting to fall apart at once, and there's no way I can replace it all. I was hoping this lap top would last longer, but it might not be the case.

The funny thing about all of this is it's exactly what I wanted in the first place. I came to Ecuador hoping to get away from the constant use of computers and Internet and to just focus on some writing and get to know my surroundings better. I knew how releasing it felt to be away from all of the bothers of technology when I was in Spain. Yet when you do check back after a week or two and see an Inbox of 40 emails, it's both daunting and a thrill. I was almost disappointed to find that my host family had wireless, yet I've realized since that there's really no way to avoid the Internet, and it's better to have the convenience than to have to struggle to find a connection across town. After all, it's helped me continue to blog, so I can't complain about that.

I wonder if this lap top does bite the dust while I'm still here, how will I find ways to kill the monotony and boredom throughout the day? I guess I could write in a journal more often, or just take longer walks around the town. As brutal as it may be for the first week or so, unplugging might not be a bad thing. Still, with little else around to keep me busy, I'm hoping the life support continues to work until I get home. Otherwise you might as well pull the plug on me.

Featured on National Geographic Glimpse

I just received an email from National Geographic Glimpse informing me that my blog is being featured on the Homepage of their Web site this week. This is pretty exciting because it means a bit more exposure, but also, it means that people are actually reading these blogs after all. In addition to blogging on Travel Guy, I blog on the Matador Network and with Glimpse. The other entries that I write on Matador and Glimpse are the same entries that you can find on Travel Guy. But for the most part, the majority of what I write comes from this blog. Not everything I write gets posted on the other sites.

So even though you may have already read these blog posts, check out my featured blog on Glimpse and help spread the word. Call it shameless promotion if you will, but someone's gotta do it.

Looking Ahead

Because I don't want to arrive in Argentina without a job, an apartment, or anything else to help me, I've started to look ahead into my options for when I arrive in August. After asking around, I was told to join up on CouchSurfing to look for roommates in Buenos Aires, or at the very least someone who would be willing to rent an apartment. I'd been looking on Craigslist for apartments, and the rates were sky high.

After creating an account and joining the Buenos Aires forum, I've already recieved a couple of offers. My Inbox was exploding with emails from the site, which I had to filter to make sure weren't just junk, but at least it's already working. Now I just need to hopefully make the right decision and pick something feasible. I'm still waiting to hear about jobs, but if I can at least have a place to stay when I get there, it would make things easier.

In addition to apartments and jobs, I'm also looking forward to meeting people in Buenos Aires. With the help of the Matador Network, I'm already in touch with a few people who are currently in Buenos Aires or will be by the time I get there. Though I haven't met these people yet, it will be helpful to meet up and get some advice on my new home. Also, it will just be nice to know someone while I'm still getting my feet off the ground.

So while I'm still here in Cuenca, Ecuador, I'm trying to figure things out for the next few months. Though I'm going home to the United States for a few weeks before Argentina, I'm really just thinking of it as a long vacation before I start up work again. I've been approved for Argentinian citizenship, and though I have the papers that I was supposed to sign in the consulate in Guayaquil, I'm just going to have to wait until I get home and go to New York. For some reason the diplomats in Guayaquil can't figure out what to do. This could delay getting the DNI citizenship card, but with some luck it won't destroy my plans. Either way, I'm Argentina bound in August.

Cuenca vs. Barcelona (Guayaquil)

This weekend has flown by, as they usually do. But it seems like I've been squeezing a lot more into the weekends lately, which has helped them pass faster. This is good, because I'd rather be out with friends doing things, but it also means that Monday comes that much quicker. Yesterday was a beautiful day so a few of us went down to Parque Paraiso and played Frisbee. I ran down to the park to get the blood flowing after a night out, and the sun helped me sweat out some of the remaining hangover.

We played for a few hours and finished up just as the weather changed and it got colder. A thunderstorm in the distance played out a show for us as Jamie, Jake, a visiting friend on his way up to Colombia, and I walked around the park. A party at a bar in the city was put on later last night by a teacher from one of the language schools here. The theme was 90s Hip Hop and Funk music. On the invitation it said to dress funky, and though a few of us tried our best, most people were just dressed up normally. We danced up a storm last night, and it was a really nice change of pace to hear different music besides the standard Salsa, Merengue, Bachata, Cumbia, and Reggaeton.

We'd also heard that Barcelona, a soccer team from Guayaquil was playing in Cuenca at 11:30 am, and since they're one of the best and most popular teams in the country, we wanted to go. That meant waking up after another long night and getting busy, but it was worth it. With another powerfully sunny day, we headed down to the stadium and got tickets off of a scalper for $5. Trying hard to keep up with sunscreen so that I didn't burn too badly, we had to walk nearly the distance of the general seating to find three seats. It was packed, with almost half of the stadium wearing Barcelona's yellow jerseys, and the other half wearing Cuenca's red jerseys. It was only 11:30 am, but people were already plastered and throwing trash at the few people who walked through the Cuenca section wearing yellow.

Cuenca played well and came close to scoring a few times in the first half, but at halftime it was still 0-0. Barcelona has traditionally been a good team, and people all over the country like them, even though they are one of the teams from Guayaquil. In my experience I've also seen that many people in Cuenca either root for Barcelona or Liga, a team from Quito. The second half passed along and slowly the clouds started to roll in, but the heat was still oppressing. Of course, Cuenca now going on the opposite end of the field, and while I was looking somewhere else, they scored the only goal of the game. With much excitement the stadium went wild, or half of it did anyway. So once again, I saw Cuenca beat a superior team on their homefield. The final score of the game was Cuenca 1- Barcelona 0. And now I just need to fill the time between now and when I have to get back to work tomorrow.

1960s Cuban Documentary Night

Last night on the way home from work I ran into my friend Andres, who told me that he was on his way to a free documentary. It had something to do with social something or other, and since I had nothing better to do, and it was free, I told him I'd go. But I needed to go home and change first. I was still in my work clothes. White shirt, black pants, black shoes, and a black jacket with my briefcase. As I put it, I looked like a Bible salesman. So I caught up with Andres and a couple other guys outside the theater.

When we got there we found out that it was actually $2.50 to get in, and though no one really wanted to pay, we were already there and there was nothing else to do. Taking time to debate, we eventually went in just as the first documentary was starting. The theater was hosting a film festival starting this week and lasting into next week, and we'd be able to vote on the documentary we saw. The 9:30 showing consisted of a series of Cuban documentaries from the early 1960s.

Obviously, the theme of most of these documentaries was Communism and Fidel Castro, and how things were so great in Cuba. It was borderline propaganda, and for a while seemed to me what would be the news reels that used to be seen before movies in the 1940s. "Buy War Bonds," types of footage. "Fight Back the Hun. Enlist Today."

One documentary showed clips of a speech Fidel gave to thousands of Cubans in Havana, with Che Guevara sitting at his side. The crowd went wild and at the end waved together, arm in arm. It was pretty impressive, and if it weren't for the next documentary, you'd think everything was honky dory in Cuba. The following film showed a poor village where people lived off of the land, evidently poor but happy. From my perspective, anyway, you could see how there were still people struggling to survive in the country. Whether or not that was the goal, I'm not sure.

The next couple of documentaries were a bit stranger, taking an artistic, post-modern look into American influence. With images of JFK and LBJ being crossed with images of death and other odd things, it was all anti-U.S. propaganda. You could even see the beginnings of photoshop, as the director had LBJ's face imposed over a knight in shinning armor. This film also included speeches by Martin Luther King Jr. and Stoakley Carmichael.

The best film was a short one that stared off with a jazz rendition of "Hava Negila" while simultaneously showing footage of race riots in the South. Unfortunately the last film wasn't shown and the lights unexpectedly came on, forcing us out of the theater. Left to discuss what we'd just seen, one of the guys thought they were great, while a couple others didn't think they were anything special. Not a bad way to kill a couple of hours, but when I went home I still had to watch an episode of "South Park" just to kind of wash the taste out of my mouth.

Beginning of the End

Today began another cycle of intensive English courses as the university. The last cycle that I'll be teaching this year. The last that I'll be teaching at the University of Cuenca in Ecuador. My other class at night has been continuing and will end in June. This new course will end in July, and then I'll be finished as a volunteer English teacher in Ecuador. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that, like it or not, the year in Ecuador is dwindling down, and every day that passes, well spent or wasted, is just like sand slipping through the hour glass.

It's a strange thing to find yourself looking at a calendar with a date of departure set. Almost like looking down the glass and seeing that only the backwash is left. You could stay positive and say there's still some left, or go all sour and accept that there's not much left. No matter how much difficulty I've dealt with or crap I've been angry about, I know I'll still be upset to leave. What's worse is it seems that I've finally now started to connect with a new group of friends, and though there's still two months or so left, having friends that you know you'll have for a while as opposed to friends that know you'll be gone soon are two very different things. Everything seems to be on rush mode now.

By now I feel like a seasoned teacher. I've already gone through three different cycles with probably over 140 students, and whereas I was nervous and had no idea what I was doing on my first day in September, today it was smooth and all business. Experience, it seems, would have its perks. Who-da thunk it? But again, there's that hint of sadness in saying goodbye to another class that you'd enjoyed and having to start all over again.

Yet I'm still here, still going along, and only from time to time am I reminded that my time is winding down. Otherwise, for the majority of the time I feel like I'm still just coming up on month 5 and have so much left to do. I still want to get deep into the jungle. I still want to do the famed Quilatoa Loop, a stunning expanse of land in the center of the country with lakes and craters. I still want to see a cockfight.

Some other foreigners I've known for a while now are starting to leave, as their contracts are expiring. Back home or to the next country they go, and here I stay. It's almost like getting old and just waiting to die. You hear the friends saying that we need to go out one last time and do this one last time, and soon they get on a bus and leave. But you remain behind. And knowing that your own time will come soon, when you're the one who's having going away parties and saying goodbye to friends made, you wonder if it will be the same reception. If people will think about you for maybe a day and then move on. Hopefully there's more of a lasting impression than that. But basically, even the locals I've become friends with, even if I was the first gringo they ever met, they will eventually have to move on and maybe even make more gringo friends. Who knows?

What I do know is that a couple of months ago I didn't feel as strongly about my setting as I do right now. And anytime a change of scenery is coming up, you're bound to feel more sentimental and want to stick around just a little longer. My only consolation is that I know I'm going to Argentina in August, and maybe with a little luck and money, I'll be able to work my way back to Ecuador before going back to the United States. Whenever that may be.

Another day down in the books. One less to do what I haven't yet done. It's time to get busy.