COUNTRY: Ecuador
PROGRAM: GapBreak
PROJECT: Teaching & Care Work
WRITTEN BY: Clare Baxter
As of this, the third installment of the Blog del Gringo Gang, we have reached the halfway point of our GapBreak adventure. This is incredibly hard to believe at our end; never, it seems, have six weeks of our lives gone faster. And having now settled into a daily routine (up at 6:15, breakfast under the chandelier, the grind of the Ecovia bus, four hours of placement and a huge lunch) the days only go faster. A lot of us are even contemplating extending our return flights. (Don't shoot the messenger, beloved parentals.)
So, how have placements been going? At Fernando Pons, even 6B have become controllable, the three year two classes have learnt the Rainbow Song with much enthusiasm and year seven are our cheeky little brothers and sisters who, having learnt the word "kiss", proceeded to chant it at the resident lovebirds. And even though some of the lesson is spent digging for information about our "novios" back home, we have gotten through five topics with them and are moving on to the sixth.
Lisa and Sarah go to INSFIDIM, a school for disabled children. They each help out in their own class with kids varying in age and disabilities. However, the school is a buzz of happiness and positivity that brings all the kids together. The girls help to teach the kids all sorts of things including how to make a bed and tie up shoe laces as well as the usual classroom subjects. Recess is also really fun as they get dragged around by laughing kids and try to dodge the soccer ball as an intense game of soccer rages, whether or not you find yourself in the way. It is a real challenge and can be very tiring, but they've found it really rewarding as it is all worth it to see the kids grow in strength and knowledge every day as well as develop friendships with them.
In terms of our weekend adventures, there is a lot to report. With our new Swiss friend Bettina we travelled to Baños. Named after the hydrothermal springs on the edge of town, it's well-known for a strange combination of spa resorts and adventure sports. Much fun and many bruises were to be had as we canyoned down waterfalls, went white-water rafting down level four rapids (there are five levels), mountain-biked down a volcano, rode horses and drove buggies (which subsequently broke down in the middle of nowhere). And, of course, it was Paul's birthday weekend, an occassion he marked by jumping off a rather high bridge. Harnesses were involved, so worry not.
The weekend of the Quito festival was suitably celebrated in our hometown by watching the Ecuador vs. Chile World Cup qualifier. Whilst the game itself was amazing (3-1 to Ecuador, SI SE PUEDE!), Ben's story of buying 13 tickets for us gringos is even more so. So I got him to write it up for your enjoyment.
Day 1: I was told by Marcelo (the in-country agent) that the Ecuadorian Football Headquarters were ten minutes from where I live in a taxi. Excellent! So I got in the taxi, gave him the piece of paper with the address scribbled down on it, and we arrived there an hour and sixteen minutes later. De-lightful. There is a massive gate surrounding the building with a narrow entrance where there is a gated door thingy. It was unlocked and ajar, so I waltzed on inside (I didn´t walk, I waltzed) and went upstairs where I found a man in a suit, who brought me to an office where there was a women in a suit. I told the woman in the suit I wanted 13 tickets for the Ecuador vs Chile match. 13 in spanish is "trece", which sounds very similar to the word for three, which is "tres". She laughed at me and corrected me by saying I obviously wanted three.
I said no, 13. She then got out a blank piece of paper and drew a big number 3 on it, and pointed down at it smiling. I took the pen and put a one in front to make it 13. She seemed astounded, and got out her phone. She spoke to someone or other for about four or five minutes, and then suddenly handed me the phone. The man (who was probably wearing a suit) told me in broken english something about a director, ordering tickets, coming back at 11am the next day, and $260. The woman in the suit then took the phone off me and said "hasta mañana", so i waltzed back out, waved goodbye to a scruffy looking gardener, and went home.
Day 2: Allowing sufficient time to travel the hour and sixteen minutes to the same place, I arrived at 10.48am. However the gated door thingy I had walked through the previous day was closed, and there was a crowd of Ecuadorians standing with their arms against the fence, as if standing outside a prison cell. I went to the gate and recognised the scruffy gardener from the day before, and gestured for him to come and talk to me. I managed to say something along the lines of "Hello sir, I yesterday to speak with director, he know me, tickets for football." The gardener smiled and walked off.
A local man asked how many tickets I wanted. I told him 13 and he burst into laughter and told the others there. They were in tears of laughter at the silly gringo looking for 13 tickets when they probably wouldn't even get the one they so desperately craved. About 45 minutes of standing in the sun later, I decided to get the next taxi home. Around about the same time, the gardener came and opened the gate about an inch. The mass of people started to barge through the gate, and the gardener promptly held up a gun to their faces. Everyone froze. He then held up his other arm and pointed directly at me, gesturing with one finger for me to go in.
At this point I was quite confused. Nevertheless, I waltzed on inside and found the same man in a suit, who brought me to the woman in the suit, who introduced me to a man who wasn't wearing a suit, who walked me through a set of corridors to a man standing outside a closed door, wearing a suit. We stood there for about five minutes, not saying anything. Suddenly, he opened the door slightly, and smiled as he announced 'El Jefe' as the room opened up in front of me. The Boss.
Sitting behind a desk, smoking a cigar, with two bodyguards on either side of him, was the Director of Football for Ecuador. And he was wearing a suit. It felt like a scene from the Godfather, and I was about to come face to face with Al Pacino. I don't know the director's real name, so I'll refer to him as Jefe. I tentatively walked up to the desk, and Jefe said something while holding an expensive looking box of cigars up to me. The man to his left spoke English and acted as a translator, looking me in the eye while saying "The Director... would request you to share a cigar with him." I have never even tried a cigarette before, so to avoid completely embarrassing myself while not disrespecting him, I told the guard I had asthma.
Jefe seemed to accept the reason. He eyed me up and down, as I was wearing thongs, board shorts of the Australian flag, and a fake Ecuador football shirt which I had bought off the street for $5. He then bombarded me with questions, ranging from "Why are you in Ecuador?" to "Do you or any of your friends have criminal records in Australia for hooliganistic activities?". After a few minutes, he stopped talking and stared at me, probably into my soul. After all, he was wearing a suit. The guard then took over and said, carefully enunciating each word, "The Director... has approved... your request." I thanked them, and proceeded to purchase and receive the 13 tickets. On the hour-and-sixteen-minute journey home I sat in the taxi quite perplexed at what had just happened. But what I concluded from the day was that I finally had the tickets, and I should probably start wearing suits.
Finally, as is the tradition of these Gringo Gang blogs, it's time to check in with our bucket lists.
- Sarah ticked off her first (see a soccer match) at the awesome game between Ecuador and Chile.
- Emily L ticked off a multi-layered one -- seeing the three main areas of Ecuador, the coast, the Orient and the Andes.
- Paul and Emily A ticked off white-water rafting whilst in Baños.
- Lisa ticked off climbing a mountain, Mount Pichincha, the massive 5600m peak that overlooks Quito. It was a story of altitude sickness, a man named Marcel with two bung knees, and deep betrayal from a few members of the group whose names I won't mention. But it's a long, intense story, and we can really only have one of those per blog.
Anyway, the time and money I've spent at this here internet cafe are fast adding up, so I shall have to bring this blog to a close. On behalf of the Gringo Gang, I bid thee adieu until next time. Don't miss us too much.
Clare
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