Monday, August 30, 2010

A whale of a time

It's humpback whale season in Ecuador.

You are probably thinking one of two things after reading that line.

1. I already knew that.
2. I had no idea Ecuador had whales.

Well, trust me. Ecuador does have whales.

They follow the Pacific Ocean currents up the South American coast in search of warm water. Then they hang out off the Ecuadorian coast for a few months to mate before following the currents across the Pacific Ocean toward Asia.



The whales congregate near the town of Puerto Lopez, which is about eight hours up the coast from my site. Whale season is from June to September, and I decided to take a brief mental health break to go check out these mammals.

The pictures that I have here don't really do a good job of showing the sheer awesomeness of the whales, but they are what my camera would capture.




The whale-watching tour also included snorkeling and a bird-watching hike at Isla de la Plata. Before heading out on the boat, they gave us a piece of Palo Santo wood to chew on.

Apparently, the tourist stomach and the ocean waves don't get along. The locals claim that chewing Palo Santo wood will help one's stomach get over the rough water.

I don't know if it is true or not. But I chewed it anyway.

There might be some scientific proof to this, but I contend that the tourist is so preoccupied with the horrible taste and aftertaste of wood that they forget about their stomach issues.



As I mentioned above, part of the tour included a bit of snorkeling, which was very cool. Tons of fish. Tons of colors. Tons of fun.



There was one slight issue with my snorkeling equipment, though. Once I got into the water, I noticed that the breathing tube was letting a lot of water into my mouth. It wasn't entering from above. Apparently, the seal on the bottom of the tube wasn't completely sealed off.

I'm no expert on the whole snorkeling thing but I know that the tube is very important. So I swam back to the boat and explained this to the captain, who obviously doesn't quite understand the concept of customer service.

Ian: The tube is letting in too much water.
Captain: You are going to have to deal with it.


It would have been quite funny if he told me "no pasa nada," but he didn't. I figured it out, although it was not nearly as comfortable as I would have liked.



The other part of the tour included bird-watching on Isla de la Plata. The bird species on the island are similar to what you would see on the Galapagos Islands. There were two species of boobies (red-footed and blue-footed) along with frigates.

On the road to Puerto Lopez, you drive through one of the best-named cities in Ecuador: Jipijapa (pronounced Hippy Hoppa). Compared to its name, the town is a letdown. The area is probably most famous for its straw, which is used to make Panama Hats.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Drunk cattle?



Before I begin with the post, I will give you a very brief Spanish lesson. In Spanish, the word for drunk is borracho.

One of the more common shrubs in the dry tropical forest is borrachera.

The similarity is not by coincidence.

If eaten by livestock, the borrachera can cause a lack coordination, weakness, or apathy. (I guess it depends if the cow is a active drunk or a lazy drunk. Luckily, it doesn't say anything about the angry drunk cow. That could be bad.)

Unfortunately, I couldn't find a good YouTube, but people here like to laugh whenever someone mentions borrachera.



Supposedly, it doesn't have the same effects on humans, although it does have some medicinal uses. According to a book I found about the medicinal properties of local plants, one can use the borrachera to reduce fevers associated with respiratory and urinary infections. It can also apparently help combat ulcers, diabetes, and gonorrhea. If you have a toothache, the plant's fiber can reduce the pain.

The plant grows wild around here, displaying its pretty flower most of the year. In wet years, the flower is much bigger and the plant can be more than 10 meters long. In dry years, the plant and flower are much smaller.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Reforestar: Lost without translation

The Spanish verb "reforestar" means "to reforest" in English.

To you, the Hearyoni reader who probably has a good grasp of the English language, this makes sense. Reforesting means "replant with trees; cover again with forest."

There used to be forest. For one reason or another, that forest isn't there anymore. So you are planting trees to restore the area to its forested state.

My problem with the Spanish word is that its intuitive meaning for an English speaker is lost on someone who doesn't understand English. "Forest" is not a word in Spanish.

When someone says they are "reforestando," they are typically just planting one or two species of trees that they plan on harvesting for timber in ten years. While it is important that they do plant trees, I wouldn't describe their activities as reforestation (especially because it is with the intent to deforest the land at some point). These are tree plantations, not forests.

The Spanish word for forest is "bosque."

When you ask someone here what a "bosque" is they will describe a forest - with a diversity of trees and animals. They don't think of single-specie tree plantations.

In my work at the tree nursery, I frequently find myself talking to clients about what they are planting. Most of the time, they come in and say they want to "reforestar." I ask them which species of trees they would like to plant. Most of the time it's teak - a tree that is not native to this part of the world that is only planting to harvest the wood.

The nursery also offers a variety of native tree species, and I ask the customers if they would like any of those. They say that they take too long to be worth anything.

If the Spanish word for "reforestation" related to the Spanish word "bosque" the perception of what it means to reforest might be a little different.

(I'm currently reading a book about the history of the Oxford English Dictionary, so the meaning of words is on my mind.)

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

A little bit about the Virgen del Cisne

In my previous post, I said that we are in the middle of the fiestas of the Virgen del Cisne. It has come to my attention that you, the hearyoni reader, might not be quite familiar with these festivities.

The main celebration and pilgrimage associated with these fiestas occurs in the province of Loja (east of El Oro). But because there is a large population of immigrants from Loja in El Oro, the fiestas are also commemorated here.

A little bit about the history of the fiestas.

El Cisne is a small town in the province of Loja founded in 1550. Later in the 16th century, the residents of El Cisne traveled to Quito to ask a sculptor for an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe to place in their sanctuary. With the statue in tow, the residents of El Cisne returned home. (FYI: We're not talking about the Virgin of Guadalupe from Mexico. This is the Virgin of Guadalupe from Caceres, Spain)

In 1594, a terrible drought hit the region. The authorities in Quito said that the residents should abandon the village and relocate. They took the statue with them. On their journey to their new village. From the moment they arrived in their new hamlet, it was beset by violent storms that uprooted trees, knocked over homes, and ruined their harvests.

The residents took this as a punishment from the Virgin for having removed her from El Cisne. They disobeyed the government's orders and returned to their hometown. In the end, the government decreed that the the town should always be populated.

It is very popular for people to make a pilgrimage on foot to El Cisne at this time of year. Some travel hundreds of kilometers, on foot through the Andes, to reach El Cisne. Others travel in bus.

For people who don't make the pilgrimage, they mark the occasion with several masses (I believe there is a mass for nine consecutive nights), a vaca loca, the burning of the castillo, bailes, and other traditional fiesta activities.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Live la vaca loca

They were celebrating the fiestas of the Virgen del Cisne last week in Arenillas last week.

Among other things, this meant that there would be the vaca loca. Now, I could use this space to explain the vaca loca. Or I could let the following YouTube video explain it.



It is kind of a "you can't have one without the other." Whenever they have a vaca loca, it is accompanied by the burning of the castillo.

Monday, August 16, 2010

It's starting to make sense


In recent blog posts, I have remarked about how culturally acceptable it is for people to go to the bathroom anywhere.

It might be out the window of the bus. It might be in the middle of a group of people waiting to get onto the bus. It might be on the wall that says "Don't pee on this wall."

For many months now, I have wondered where this freedom to go where you please comes from. I finally answered that question this weekend.

I took a day trip up to Zaruma, a colonial gold-mining town about two hours into the mountains from my site. It might be a relatively short journey, but it almost feels like a different country. The architecture is different (There is a distinct architectural style). The scenery is different (Mountains). The climate it different (Not hot). The pace of life is different (Not "in your face").

Given how different Zaruma is from my site, I was surprised by a statue in the central park.



That is a statue of a child going to the bathroom in the middle of the park. Even in a town as different as Zaruma, they glorify public urination (At least they make an art of it).

I asked some people around town why there is a statue of a kid peeing in the park. Apparently, it has been there for over a hundred years. They told me that it was brought over by some Europeans.

I did some further research on similar statues and discovered that there is a very famous statue in Brussels, Belgium. I imagine that the statue in Zaruma tractes its inspiration to that one.

I wonder how the presence of such a statue in the central park of a town such has Zaruma has affected the acceptability of public urination in Ecuador. If the statue was, in fact, donated by a European country or organization over a hundred years ago, people here might have thought that a statue of a person urinating in the central park accurately reflects cultural norms in that country.

If they associated cultured Europe with public urination, they might think that using the toilet or going out of site is the practice of bumpkins.

I only propose this hypothesis based upon my experiences in Ecuador. What people know of the United States they take from portrayals in popular culture. I have been asked if there is actually countryside in the United States (many think it all looks like New York). I have been asked if the United States is all night clubs and discos. I am still asked if I knew Michael Jackson.

Based on these experiences, I might be inclined to conclude that the statue has something to do with the propensity to pee in public.

Monday, August 09, 2010

Ian's weekly home appliance update

My fridge should just start its own blog.

It is breaking faster than I can blog about (granted, I am blogging relatively slowly).

We last left off the saga of my fridge a few of weeks ago. After the repairman brought his blow torch into my kitchen and borrowed my gas tank, she was up and running again.

I was happy. I asked the repairman if he thought my fridge would break anytime soon.

He said he didn't think so.

Have I previously mentioned on this blog how Ecuadorians don't like to say "no" and are very indirect?

Well, if I haven't, I will do so now.

They don't really like to say "no" to you and are very indirect. When he told me that my fridge would not break very soon, I took that to mean that my fridge should work well for the rest of my service.

I guess we had different understandings of what the word "soon" means.

So when I came knocking on his door July 31st, he didn't look surpised to see me. I explained the problem, which was quite similar to the problem it was experiencing two weeks earlier.

He said he would come by the next day or so to check it out. Obviously, it took him about three days. He checked it out and confirmed what I had suspected.

It was broken with a similar problem. I asked him if it was worth continuing to go through this same hassle, if it was actually possible to have this thing fixed and functioning for the rest of my service.

He said that it should be possible and that he would take it to his repair shop. Except that he couldn't do it very soon because he was going to visit his daughter who is in university.

So I waited five days for him to come back. I asked him if he could come by my house, and he told me he'd be by Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. By 9:00 a.m., I was beginning to doubt that he would show up.

I headed over to his house and caught him as he was leaving. Apparently, he had to go file complaints with the electrical company and the water company and had decided to delay visiting my house until the afternoon.

I told him that wasn't going to work because I wasn't going to be home for the rest of the day, which was a true story. By now, I think he understood that I would like my refrigerator repaired. We moved the fridge from my house to his.

Apparently, it will be ready on Thursday.

Saturday, August 07, 2010

The back of the bus

The ride from Machala to my site take a bit more than an hour, and one should never be surprised by anything that happens on the bus. (No rules!!!!!)

The bus employee might decides to arbitrarily change the fare. Clowns might hop on the bus to do a comic routine. A one-toothed man might strum his one-string guitar. Another guy might be hawking the medicinal benefits of noni.

Sometimes, these occur simultaneously.

I would say that you should expect the unexpected, but I don't know if it's possible to expect something unexpected to happen because if you had expected it to happen than it wouldn't be unexpected.

Last week, on the ride back to my site from Machala, I was sitting in the back of the bus with another volunteer. About ten minutes into the hour-long ride, I hear some commotion across the aisle.

A six-year old and his mom are sitting there. He was whining a little bit and squirming around. By now, this commotion had drawn the attention of everybody else sitting nearby.

The mom lifts her child so he is standing on the window seat and props open the window. And he starts peeing.

Everyone in the area let out a collective moan.

I was equally disgusted by the fact that this kid's mom thought it was fine for her son to piss out the window. What I thought was interesting was that everybody else found that weird.

Based on my experiences, it is acceptable for children in Ecuador to pee toward the public. Instead of walking a few more meters to get to a bathroom or just cozying up to a wall, some Ecuadorian parents encourage their children to pee into the street. At least, this child was aiming away from the aisle of the bus.

The kid didn't even have to hold it in, at this time. He had another, just as convenient, option for going to the bathroom - actually going to the bathroom. He was sitting across the aisle from the bathroom door. His mom could have just as easily moved her child across the aisle and into the bathroom.

But then again, common logic doesn't always apply on the bus.

The bus keeps on rolling down the road. Another half hour passes, and that same child starts making a scene again. He doesn't have the "I have to go to the bathroom" face. He is showing more of a "I'm about to blow chunks" face.

Then came the dry heaves. Obviously, his mom told him not to vomit in her direction. She urged him to aim into my lap. Luckily, the heaves stayed dry until they got off the bus.

While all of this is happening, a couple sitting in the last row, one row behind the mother and son, seem completely oblivious to everything. As the child is pissing out the window or on the verge of vomitting, the two lovebirds in the back seat are too obsessed with each other to notice. They were making out for pretty much the entire bus ride.

And I'm sitting directly two feet away from all of this.

The only reaction I could think of is "asi es la vida" and go back to trying to read my book.

Monday, August 02, 2010

The guarantee fairy

I lived on my own for about eight months before I got a blender. I didn't really think I was missing much.

One of the nearby volunteers left, and he left behind a blender. Who would turn down a free blender?

I inherited the appliance and quickly realized what I had been missing. It has really made pasta sauce and shakshuka-making much quicker. I have started making hummus on a regular basis. Although I like to eat my fruits whole, I have learned to appreciate fresh juice on occasion.

Well, Friday afternoon, I overestimated the power of my inherited blender while trying to make a batch of hummus. The motor stopped functioning.

The next day, I took it into the local electrician, who told me that it would cost more to fix the blender than to buy a new one.

I was already planning on going to Huaquillas Saturday afternoon anyway, so I just added "new blender" to my shopping list. (Huaquillas is the town on the border between Ecaudor and Peru. You can pretty much find anything there, including one of the finest statues in Ecuador.)

Blenders come in a few varieties - nice and economical. The nice blender will run you about 50 bucks and is a decent blender. You can find an economical one for about 15. I was looking for something on the nicer end of economical (something would last me for eight months).

When you are searching for something in this price range, you must be wary of vendors trying to convince you that their cheap, bad blender is just a cheap blender. And I don't have to tell you that the type of people you find working at Latin American border town electronic stores are not the most honest salesmen in the world.

After checking into a few different stores, I found a shop tucked away on the main street. The salesman was wearing a button-down shirt with the top three buttons undone. He was finishing up a lunch of soup, chicken, and a few pieces of tomato while watching a soccer game on one of the TVs he was also selling. He was also sweating profusely.

He had a few different models of blender on top of his display case. You had the top-of-the-line model, the end-of-the-line model (which looked a lot like my blender that had broke), and a third style that looked a little bit better.

The brand name was Forever, which I really enjoyed (I couldn't find any Ericksons). After engaging in a bit of bargaining, I was able to get a twenty percent discount. Then I explained to the salesman why I was in the market for a new blender.



Salesman: If this blender breaks, you can bring it to me.
Ian: What will you do if I bring it to you?
Salesman: I will get it fixed at no charge (I thought he was going to tell me "laugh in your face")
Ian: So, you guarantee that this blender will not break on me.
Salesman: If it breaks, you bring it back here with the receipt.


It was at this moment that I thought of Tommy Callahan.

Tommy: Let's think about this for a sec, Ted. Why would somebody put a guarantee on a box? Hmmm, very interesting.
Customer: Go on, I'm listening.
Tommy: Here's the way I see it, Ted. Guy puts a fancy guarantee on a box 'cause he wants you to feel all warm and toasty inside.
Customer: Yeah, makes a man feel good.
Tommy: 'Course it does. Why shouldn't it? Ya figure you put that little box under your pillow at night, the Guarantee Fairy might come by and leave a quarter, am I right, Ted?
[chuckles until he sees that Ted is not laughing]
Customer: [impatiently] What's your point?
Tommy: The point is, how do you know the fairy isn't a crazy glue sniffer? "Building model airplanes" says the little fairy; well, we're not buying it. He sneaks into your house once, that's all it takes. The next thing you know, there's money missing off the dresser, and your daughter's knocked up. I seen it a hundred times.
Customer: But why do they put a guarantee on the box?
Tommy: Because they know all they sold ya was a guaranteed piece of shit. That's all it is, isn't it? Hey, if you want me to take a dump in a box and mark it guaranteed, I will. I got spare time. But for now, for your customer's sake, for your daughter's sake, ya might wanna think about buying a quality product from me.
Customer: [pause] Okay, I'll buy from you.
Tommy: Well, that's...
Tommy, Richard Hayden: ...What?


For some reason, I thought that this blender, whether or not it breaks, was definitely a step up from the one that had recently crapped out on me. I also have a guarantee from this vendor, which could mean one of two things.

1) It's a quality product and lasts me for the rest of my service.
2) At some point in the next eight months, the blender breaks and I take it back to the vendor who will either help me fix it or laugh in my face.

The first one is definitely preferable, but the second one will obviously provide quality blog material.

When the salesman was pitching the blender, he emphasized how one can use this smaller attachment to make mustard and mayonnaise.



I saw the utility in this attachment for other sauces, but who makes mustard or mayonnaise?

I have been making homemade tahini for the hummus and definitely see the potential in the smaller attachment for that.