Twelve Weeks...

Well, it looks like we've made it to midterm week of Peace Corps Training.  This is an unofficial designation, but it seemed appropriate considering the timing and workload we all have the next five days.  Everyone who is selected for Peace Corps services goes through this time of training, and if completed, you then become a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) when sworn-in by the U.S. Ambassador in week twelve.  We are currently in week five, and it seemingly marks the transition of our training from conceptual to practical.  No longer will we be spending nine hours a day, five days a week, going from briefing to briefing, and class to class.  After this week, for week six, we will embark on a week-long technical trip, in which we get to travel through Ecuador and experience some of the work being done at other PCV sites.  We're allowed Monday and Tuesday off week seven off for Carnaval, and then will officially be assigned our sites on that Thursday.  Week eight is a week-long site visit, where we spend a week with our new host family in whatever locale we'll call home until April 2016.  Weeks nine and ten are spent preparing for all of our final exams and presentations, week eleven is "finals week", and we are then all sworn-in and depart for our sites in week twelve.

 

Coming down here a month ago, I had no idea what was in store for me during this training.  I thought it would be a time of team-building exercises, some health and security briefings, and a lot of language and culture classes...boy, was I wrong!  Let me paint you a picture.  In the next five days, I have two presentations (one for 40 minutes, completely in Spanish), to conduct a recycled art workshop for eighty school kids (in Spanish), my second language proficiency interview (LPI), an essay due on cultural challenges I face with my host family in Tumbaco, a second essay (Community Passport) due on Ecuadorian culture, an exam on Peace Corps Medical Officer health policies, and another exam on security policy.  This is intense, stuff!  To actually become Peace Corps Volunteers, we must demonstrate competency in five subject matters: language, technical training, CORE, health & nutrition, and safety & security.  Let's look closer at each of these.

 

I think it's safe to say that most of our time is spent in our language classes.  These are actually more than language classes; they involve a lot of cross-cultural training, too.  In our first week, we sat through an LPI to gauge our level of Spanish.  As a result, we were placed in a certain class with a specific facilitator.  The goal of these classes is to get us to test to the "Intermediate-mid" level of Spanish during the LPI in Week 11.  The LPI is just a Spanish conversation, which is tape-recorded, between you and a facilitator that doesn't instruct your class.  The topics range from describing your family (both in the US and EC), your likes/dislikes, hobbies, work history, and whatever conversational topic comes up in the 15-20 minute dialogue.  The lady entrusted to get me to this level is Teresa, and so far, she has been amazing.  Teresa's class has five people (three women, two men), and most of us seem to have a really nice chemistry.  She has also been fantastic to work-in several trips beyond the walls of our training center.  Other than Teresa, our host families have strict instructions to practice our language with us on a nightly basis...and Mama Roci doesn't take this lightly.  Anyways, if we don't test to that "Intermediate-mid" level by the final LPI, then we'll either be mandated to see a tutor once we get to site, or at worst, stay in the training center for another few weeks until our language is at a level that Peace Corps deems it satisfactory to be successful in our sites.  Needless to say, I'm going to doing a lot of studying before that final LPI!

 

After language, the next greatest focus of our time is in technical training ("tech").  Our omnibus of thirty people is split into two groups of fifteen.  Half with the technical assignment of teaching English in local Ecuadorian schools, the other half within the Natural Resources Conservation (NRC) side of Peace Corps mission here.  The NRC side of things is somewhat confusing, because I'm technically in the NRC group, but there are five of us in that group who have a more specialized-focus: business development.  Really, this can be a group unto itself...but they've stuck us here.  The NRC group will most likely spend their time working in organic farming, rainforest preservation, and environmental education; however, for the five of us who didn't know the first thing about planting a seed before this past week, we'll be asked to help educate small-business owners and spur some sort of grassroots economic development...albeit, ideally with an environmental focus.  Our tech training, though, really focuses more on the agricultural side of things.  We get lectures on environmental issues of Ecuador, organic farming practices, historic crop trends, and even are expected to maintain our own organic garden plot.  Seriously, I'm graded on if some seeds I planted last week will be sprouting anything green by when our time here comes to a close.  This week, I have to give a presentation on the toolkit we're expected to use when first entering a new community, and assessing their needs; AND, with a partner, teach school kids how to make jewelry beads out of old magazine pages.  Yea, when do we get to the small business part of this again?

 

Third, is CORE.  This is really what Peace Corps calls everything that doesn't fit neatly into another bucket.  It's actually, just beating the policies into our head over and over again.  There are a few non-negotiable things that, according to our Country Director, will get us sent home just as quick as she can sign the paper: no illegal drug usage, no relations with underage locals, and lying about your location when spending the night away from site...amongst other things.  So yea, if you want to go home and don't give a damn about the reference following you around, just bump a few lines with a 14 year old Ecuadorian while on an unauthorized trip to the beach.  Good thing I don't really go for that.

 

Now we come to the items that my parents and girlfriend are probably most interested in.  Well, definitely for my parents.  Andrea?  She'll just tell me to stop being such a pu**y.  The Peace Corps Medical Officers (PCMO) is a team of two M.D.'s and one R.N. whose sole full-time job is to ensure for our constant health.  Depending on the day, we could be getting briefed on malaria, reviewing common STD infections, talking about intestinal infections, and/or getting yet another shot.  Seriously though, I'm happy to have these folks on my side.  Our health is not screwed around with.  During our service, we're required to come into Quito for several routine appointments, submit stool and urine samples, send photographs of ANY injury, and report whenever we have a bloody poop.  Also, it is strictly prohibited to seek any medical attention without their approval...the PCMO is ALWAYS the first call.  Apparently, there is a network of in-country physicians that are specially cleared to treat us, if necessary.  And, at worst case, they'll petition Washington to medevac us back to the States.  We even have a black plastic box that is to go with us everywhere.  It's complete with any first-aid materials you can think of, whatever over-the-counter medication modern medicine offers, sunscreen, a rape whistle, and condoms.  All of these items are restocked on-demand, if requested.  All joking aside, I'm not sure I've ever felt as if my health was in better hands, and this coming from a guy who lived with a third-generation doctor before coming to Ecuador.  At the end our training, we have to record a sufficient score on an exam that covers policies and procedures for any medical incident.

 

Lastly, the safety and security competency.  Like the PCMO, there is a full-time office dedicated to keeping all Peace Corps personnel safe.  And apparently, the lady in charge of this office is a total badass.  I don't know personally, but I've heard stories that her law enforcement career in Ecuador is legendary.  Also, she's the person you need to call if the local cops are jerking you around (which happens)...she walks in, and things get done.  Really though, we're put through the ringer on briefings covering everything from common date-rape drugs, to restricted regions, how to avoid certain crime trends, and strategies on defusing common occurrences.  We even have multiple briefings on how to hail a taxi.  Anyways, the central piece of this involves what is called "Whereabouts".  Pretty much if we are ever to spend an evening outside of our home, we must report it.  It's just a simple text message, but its requirement has several meanings.  The American Embassy and the Peace Corps office in Quito must know where all personnel is for security incidents, in case of a natural disaster or political uprising, or even if just to contact that person with news from back stateside.  This makes sense because if a volcano erupts, and the U.S. Government doesn't know one of their people is backpacking through that forest that weekend, it would make it very difficult to rescue him.  So, yea.  Before the simulations and exams to declare us competent in matters of security, I'm almost positive there will be ten more briefings on how not to get kidnapped and the protocol necessary for traveling by bus.

 

So, there are the five pillars of these first twelve weeks.  We seriously eat, breathe, and live this crap.  We're actually kind of tired of it.  You can tell this week that everyone is just ready to move onto something else.  Double-I Double-U Double-I, though.  IIWII.  It is what it is.  I apologize if this was haphazardly thrown together, but as you’ve already read, I’m in the midst of quite a week.  I promise the blog postings will become much more organized, with much cleaner prose, once I’m out of training.

We Are Family!

Family: such an easy and simple word.  Its meaning, though, is anything but.  Yes, traditionally the word "family" labeled those with whom you shared blood; however, in my twenty-eight years and six months, I've come to define it as more of a concept than a label.  Maybe part of that is because I was one of the 61% of children who was a victim of divorced parents.  Don't get me wrong, I've never once had to question whether my mother or father loved me with all of their heart; however, growing up in such turmoil does give you a new perspective on what "family" is.  So with my broadened understanding of family, I can say that I'm incredibly fortunate to be blessed as being a part of several families.  Of course it all begins with the Miles and Siner families.  They're the bloodlines that I will ultimately pass onto my children, and the clans that have always been there for me no matter what.  How about these other families?  In chronological order (not order of significance), I'm also a member of the Brookville High School family, the Flaherty family, the Hampden-Sydney College family, the Camp Wahoo family, the First Baptist Church of OKC family, and now even the Covington family.  While each of these families are a vibrant part of who I am, these past few weeks I've been lucky enough to be welcomed into two more: the Hidalgo family and the OMN-111 family.

First, the Hidalgo family.  For my first twelve weeks in Ecuador, from mid-January to mid-April, I will be living in their home.  I would say I will also be a member of their family for those twelve weeks, but I've recently learned that family membership isn't subject to a strict three month term…more on that in a few.  Suddenly, on a Saturday morning, I had a new Ecuadorian father (Jorge), mother (Rocio), and two sisters (Pame and Carla).  Jorge and Rocio work in the local education system, Pame commutes to university in Quito, and Pame is in collegio (the equivalent of high school).  I am the eighth Peace Corps volunteer they have hosted, and it seems the Hidalgo gringos are quite the bunch.  Three of their previous PCV's were in Quito last week for some training, and if you're within 50 km of Tumbaco, Mama Roci isn't taking "no" for an answer!  Peace Corps actually goes through a pretty intense screening process for host families, both in Tumbaco and at-site.  Some of the highlights: each family must provide the PCV his/her own bedroom, it must have a lockable door (with the PCV having the key), it can't have visible electrical wiring, the family must provide breakfast and dinner (Mama Roci also packs my lunch), and the family cannot conduct business within the home.  That last thing may seem interesting to some Americans, where working from home often means shooting off a late email or joining a conference call from your basement desk.  In Ecuador, it has a much different meaning because a lot of small business owners often live and work out of the same structure.  It is not at all uncommon to walk into the corner tienda (aka convenience store), and the door behind the counter lead to the owner’s domicile instead of some stock room.  Needless to say, the United States Government has decided it is best for PCV's not to be hosted in this type of environment.  After 4+ weeks, I can fully say that I'm incredibly lucky to be a member of this family.  We have a two-level 4br, 3ba house within a gated family compound, I have a large bedroom with a ton of closet space, it has a full bed, several reliable electrical outlets, a desk, WiFi, and my own bathroom.  I'm also about a ten minute walk from the center of town, and three blocks to the bus stop.  This may look primitive through a first-world lens, but some of my colleagues are in homes that lack internet, has just one bathroom for the whole family, and/or the volunteer bedroom resembles a large closet with a mattress. 

My day with the Hidalgo’s begins at 0630, and breakfast is on the table by the time I emerge from my shower around 7ish.  Breakfast is usually an egg (hard-boiled or fried), some fruit, a piece of bread, and fresh juice.  Juice is a staple of Ecuadorian culture, and this isn't just a glass of Minute-Made or Ocean Spray.  In fact, one of the first things everybody buys for their kitchen is a blender.  My morning juices have varied from something that resembles cold apple cider, a frothy strawberry concoction, and what I’m convinced is a banana milkshake without the ice cream.  I'm always out the door by 0730 to catch the 0750 bus to our training compound.  The four mile bus ride from Tumbaco to "school" in Collaqui is a daily adventure that makes single-track sharing on DC Metro’s Orange Line seem luxurious.  Most often, the bus is already packed when it picks us up, and if I can get more than one foot on-board as we pull-off...then it's going to be a good day.  Not to alarm you, but that last sentence is not hyperbole.  More often than not, I ride with at least one leg, one buttcheek, or one arm hanging out the door as the only thing keeping me from a tuck-and-roll situation is a metal bar, or another gringo holding onto a metal bar.  Yet, Peace Corps policy prohibits us from riding motorbikes or in the back of a pickup truck…weird.  Training involves an 8-9 hour day of highly intensive and supremely structured culture acclimation.  I’ll spare the details of that for now, because my next post will be a deep dive into the training portion of my service.  When our exhausted day hits 1700 hours, we all typically make the 5-6 km walk from Collaqui back to Tumbaco along the Ciclo Via, which is a non-vehicular path cut through the Pinchinca countryside.  By the time I make it home around 1830, I have enough time to check some emails before dinner, after which I'll probably spend a couple hours studying, and then the night is capped off with family conversation around the table with cafe and pan (coffee and bread).

Despite having every minute planned out Monday through Friday, mi familia has made amazing efforts to show me Ecuador.  On my first weekend, Mama Roci, Carla, and Sonia (a family friend) took me into Quito's colonial district...which was absolutely gorgeous!  We walked the cobblestone La Ronda and toured Ecuador's Presidential Palace.  On that tour it was very easy to see the role of Catholicism within Ecuadorian culture, as just off of the state dining room sets a very obvious and ornate Catholic alter/chapel.  The strength of Catholicism is further displayed by a lot of Ecuadorians surface dismissal of any Christian faith other than theirs.  Now, I don't think this perception is rooted in evil or hatred; rather it is derived from confusion.  When I asked my host mom on our first Saturday if we would be going to church the following morning, she asked if I was Catholic.  My response, "No, I'm Protestant.”  She was then blown away that I wanted to go to church, and wondered why.  In her mind, in that moment, protestant me didn’t like Jesus and ignored the Virgin Mary.  Her reactionary interrogation included my adoration for Jesus Christ, the significance of fully-submerged baptism, a child’s eternity since devotion and salvation is dependent on a person's own response, why we Mary's story isn’t promoted more, and so on.  It really came down to me putting my English NKJV Bible directly beside her Spanish Bible, her confirming that they indeed matched up, and her acknowledgment the different understandings of our same faith were rooted in the same text.  The next morning I experienced my first Ecuadorian Catholic service, and I think me putting some money in the offering went a long way to smooth things over.  As a side note, the Catholics do offering right.  Rather than an open plate, which makes your level of tithing obvious to your neighbors, a velvet bag on a stick (similar to a hobo carry-on) is extended down the pew and everyone submerges their hand just into the bag and drops their offering.  I was also very surprised at how casual the service was.  It was like the LifeChurch (OKC reference) of Quito.  I mean the Christmas Eve service that Andrea and I went to in Tulsa was full-on pomp and circumstance, and that was my expectation for this service.  I’m not going to lie, I was a little disappointed.  They sing though!  Boy, do they sing!  They even broke out into a spanish rendition of "Battle Hymn of the Republic".  Even though the song was adapted to link the American Civil War with Revelations’ judgment of the wicked, I’ve never heard it in a church setting…and this is coming from a guy who grew up surrounded by Civil War battlefields.  So once I settled down from Ecuador’s tribute to Abe Lincoln, it came time to cross ourselves.  In addition to the conventional north-south-east-west crossing of your forehead and chest, they did one cross that I swear needed an instruction manual.  They went forehead, lips, back to the forehead, chin, chest, lips, chest, and it kept going.  I'm not sure whether I should've done the hokey pokey or stolen second base.  It was intense. 

The priest is a very young and energetic man, he freely walks through the aisles during the sermon; which is a challenge considering that the pews are full, people are standing ten-deep against the back wall, and all of the children are sitting in miniature plastic lawn chairs right at the steps of the stage....there's even a moment where all the children are invited up and the priest places his hands on each of them.  Interesting.  Just a piece of advice for all of you non-Catholic Christians who may find yourself in a Catholic church, when it's time to receive communion: DON'T GO!  I swear I would've gotten less weird looks if I had walked into the sanctuary dressed like Marilyn Manson.  My experience within the church wasn't as traumatic as a colleague's, though.  On the first night with his family, this young man (who identifies as an atheist) was taken to a movie at his family's church.  Little did he know, it was a very graphic "you're going to hell" type of flick.  I didn't know Hollywood had taken Dante's Divine Comedy to the big screen, but either way, there it was.  I can imagine it to be the equivalent of America's fear-based theology, which revolves seeking salvation this instant because the world will probably end in the next instant.  Just my opinion, but I'm a man of faith because I choose to sprint towards the love and grace of God rather than run away from the damnation and fires of hell...but again, that's just me.  Back to my colleagues, though. 

I said at the outset of this post, that I now have two new families.  One is the Hidalgo's; the other, Omnibus 111.  Seriously, these twenty-nine dedicated humanitarians are amazing people, if for no other reason than they chose to sacrifice two years of their lives to impact those within the developing world.  Having spent pretty much every day and night together for a month now, I can certainly say that we are family.  We are a diverse, passionate, vibrant, dedicated, fun group...and I honestly don't know if I would’ve survived the last four weeks without them.  There are new grads, young professionals, a middle-aged PhD, and retirees.  We come from Puerto Rico, the mid-Atlantic, the Great Lakes, Texas, Southern California, Northern California, the Pacific NW, Hawaii, and Alaska.  Some are devout believers, others are non-believers.  Some come here to teach English, others come to bring environmental and economic assistance to ignored villages.  I am so very proud to say that Peace Corps Ecuador Omnibus 111 (PC/E OMN111) is the perfect cross-section representation of the United States of America, and there isn't a better group to carry our star-spangled banner into a foreign country in the hopes of peace and prosperity.  It's almost comical at how harmonious we have been.  In a month, the only disagreements are where we wanted to do dinner, or what time to meet for the bus.  Seriously.  When's the last time you took a diverse group of thirty, put them together for four weeks and had zero issues?  Much less doing all that away from their comfortable lives and loved ones, while learning a new language, adapting to a new culture, and being constantly watched by everyone in our community (the gringo fishbowl effect is real, yall). 

Some of the highlights so far from OMN 111…  About half the group visited Mitad del Mundo a few weeks ago.  For those of you with spotty Spanish, it is the site about 15 km north of Quito that marks the equator’s passage through Ecuador.  Well, or so they would like you to think.  Mitad del Mundo is a very touristy village with a prominent monument and yellow line at its center, marking zero-degrees latitude.  Sounds cool, right?  If only it actually marked zero-degrees latitude.  Hundreds of years ago, European settlers decided on the equator being on this tract of land, and since then it has been the quintessential tourist stop; however, in the late 90's, GPS shot that all to pieces.  The actual mark for zero-degrees latitude is about 3km away from Mitad del Mundo.  If only those silly Euros had a robotic feminine voice telling it to turn left in .25 miles.  It was cool though, even if just symbolically, to stand with a foot in each hemisphere was significant.  After roaming around Ecuador’s version of South Of The Border, only those of you who have traveled I-95 through the Carolina’s will get that reference, we loaded onto our bus and hiked a few km's to Pululagua.  Pululagua is a now-dormant volcano that offers some of the best views mountain views I have ever seen.  Just to give you an example of the different subclimates within Ecuador, at Mitad del Mundo it was 90 and sunny, a few miles and twenty minutes later at the Pululagua crater, it was in the low 50's and rainy.  Most of the group decided to hike the steep and rocky path into the valley below, but with that old hiking attage of "what goes down must come back up" in the back of my mind, I decided to keep my perch and enjoy the view.  I mean really, I've been struggling with altitude my entire time here, and being medivac'ed out of this crater because my surgically-repaired heart exploded was not the Saturday afternoon I was looking for.  So Rachel (my Spanish partner from El Paso) and I spent the hour or so literally sitting amongst the clouds, and felt damn good about it when we watched our compadres return to the top.  I mean some of these folks are in amazing shape, and they were totally struggling...yea, I would've blacked-out for sure.

There are so many other amazing experiences I can share within these first four weeks: Super Bowl Sunday, our habitual Friday night dinner and beer group dates, and killing a turkey for a family bbq are all Top-10 play nominees.  With that though, this entry has just exceeded 2,600 words, and I still need to eat dinner and get some work done!

A quick note about photos: my WiFi connection is super spotty here, so they're unable to upload to Blogspot, but I'll try this weekend to get a Flickr account lined-up.  In the meantime, they're all visible on my FB page and on my FB Photo Albums page.

!Chao chao!