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!