A Presidential Speech

The President of the Republic of Ecuador Rafael Correa Delgado is a hero for the young, open-minded student body at the University of Cuenca where I work. As an accomplished economist and former professor of the University of Cuenca, mention of him creates a lot of enthusiasm. That’s why I was bewildered to discover of his visit to the university by chance. For me, his unique appearance and lecture on the Dollarization came unannounced. No fliers, no memo, no trumpets nor red carpet, but somehow everyone knew. I figure they must have learned of his visit through an encrypted Ecuadorian telepathy system. I can safely say that it was not an undisclosed, surprise visit for security purposes, as was illustrated by the below-average crowd control during his presentation. Therefore, I must suppose that either I am sadly, ill-informed or like most Ecua-things, even the most significant of events are not given a lot of forethought.

Yesterday, two hours before the big event, a professor politely warned me that there would be no classes after 6pm. “Great, thanks for letting me know,” I responded and then luckily thought to ask, “and what’s the reason we’re canceling class?”

I assumed that classes were cancelled for typical excuses, such as faculty meetings, frequent and/or unclear holidays, or big soccer games. Indeed it surprised me to discover that it was nothing typical.

“Well,” the professor responded, “The President has a speech at 6 pm in the Coliseum. You should go if you’re interested.”

If I’m interested, I thought. Of course this interests me; I’ve never seen any president speak in public before, and especially not in an academic presentation geared toward university students to keep the public and the university body informed.

Fortunately, en route to the lecture I ran into two other professors and tagged along to the big event. We arrived at quarter to 6 to the Coliseum. Please don’t let your mind run away with the name Coliseum because it is less Roman and more a smelly, old gymnasium. The grand arena seated 700, but with fifteen minutes to go- it was not even half full. Of course, I’m not good with estimating, but I would figure that the entire facility was half the size of my high school’s basketball arena. So, even for a non-desirable basketball game, my basketball team’s numbers would have crushed the president’s numbers. “Where is everybody?” I asked a professor.

“The President is not known for being punctual, so perhaps the students will arrive late, when they expect him to arrive,” she responded.

Of course I have been privy to a number of events that did not start on time and yes, a large part of living in Ecuador is about re-calculating for Ecua-time. For example, “right now” could literally mean anywhere from 3 days to 6 months time. Yet, for some reason I assumed that this momentous occasion would be different. I now realize that I it was naïve to presume that the president of Ecuador would operate on a different time schedule than his fellow citizens.

My co-worker continued to explain that in the city of Ambato people are very punctual and will stage opening acts in case the main event delays. In one case, she said that the people of Ambato invited the President to crown the Queen of Carnival, but he was so late that by the time he arrived she was already crowned.

Well, to our luck Correa arrived at five past. Before Correa was to begin his discourse, the leading official of the University of Cuenca made his introductions. As the official rose, a leftist student-run political organization, called FEUE also rose with fervor. In a way that surprised me and also made me uncomfortable, the group began chanting and booing the university official. They held up a sign which “suggested” not so politely that he lower tuition costs and called him names. Another professor leaned over to explain to me that the student body is notorious for preventing guests from speaking when they disagree with their policies.

The crowd had prepared a very different welcome for their dear and respected president Correa. As Correa rose to speak, the crowd gave him a warm reception. At least I think that is what they were doing, but to be honest I lost track of where I was for a moment when the student (and faculty) body of women began screaming, charged the stage and thousands of camera phones snapped photos. I looked up at the stage half expecting to see Ricky Martin and his Latin hips or the Beatles and their hair, but then remembered that this was a lecture on the Dollarization and well, the Beatles broke up. I don’t know anyone besides my dad that would be so excited about a detailed discussion of economics, but even he would keep it on the inside.

I looked over to show my “what is happening?” face to my co-worker and saw that she was blushing, her eyes fixed on Mr. President. I had heard many women found Correa to be handsome, but this professor was weak in the knees for the man. In that moment, I realized that she wasn’t exaggerating or mocking ill-educated students when she confessed to she was attending the lecture, not because she gave a rip about economic policy, but because she wanted to be in his presence. More than anything, I was shocked that it did not damage her credibility as a professor; if anything, I appreciated her honesty.

Correa was quite the charismatic speaker. I was impressed by his poise, specifically in his ability to continue lecturing in a room of ringing cell phones, children selling gum and cigarettes, political groups chanting and people milling about. He had an outstanding way of playing the crowd and found a balance between using language that was complicated and economic language as well as informal to connect with his audience. For example, a few times during his lecture he said “chuta”, which in the context of a formal lecture translates to “damn”. When the economic discussion became less of Correa’s dreamy celebrity persona and more economic policy and algorithms, many female students stood up and left the arena.

The president spoke for two hours and answered several audience questions on the topic of whether or not the dollar had been beneficial for Ecuador. He definitely proved to be an accomplished economist as he clearly explained his central idea that Ecuador’s relative economic improvements since 1999's recession were not due to the dollar, but rather in spite of the dollar and as a result of exponential remittances and increasing prices for oil. Not surprisingly his point was the dollar ain’t good, but I was impressed by his openness to include strong counter arguments and detail the benefits of the dollar for Ecuador since 2001 as well its foibles. It made his lecture seem like a more rounded investigation rather than a loosely linked political rant or censored propaganda.

I walked away from the Coliseum filled with excitement and wonder. I felt charged having witnessed living history and having experienced an authentic political speech, chanting, blushing and all. Also, I wondered about the implications of electing a president with sex-appeal and wondered whether my president would ever give an academic lecture using algorithms.

Merry Christmas!

A Merry Christmas to All

In order to grab the Christmas season by the proverbial horns, Pete and I had the bone head idea to bring Christmas to Cuenca, Ecuador early this year.

We suited up for the big day, armed ourselves with lollipops and headed out to make new friends the only way we know how, public humiliation. Some were delighted, others cried, some ran back into their houses and others stopped to take pictures and ask us questions.

All in all I would say it was a success. I have never seen so many strangers smile and give hugs to a Santa wearing Capri pants and flip flops.

To see more photos check out the album Merry Christmas, on my photo page at

Some people just got it

In finishing our Clothing and Appearance unit in my third level conversation class, I figured the best way to assess everyone’s mastery of the concepts was to...well, have a fashion show.

I’d heard that fashion shows had worked well in the past, but I was hesitant to lay this bomb on my class given my previous understanding of their creative abilities was based upon a serious affinity for copying I’d observed. The prospect sounded risky, but I tried to outline the parameters of the project really well (using a women’s lacrosse party theme from college “Sophista-FUNK”, a fusion of sophisticated and funky, as my inspiration.)

The day that I presented to the class the project outlines, I held my breath while they formed into their little groups and started the awkward, ‘I’m too scared to share my ideas with a group’ thing. Creative group work is always a bit awkward for some and there is certainly a critical turning point because if someone is fearless enough to present a creative idea, all rests on the comment of the next person to speak. If the presenter’s idea is shot down, a condition I call creativityphobia or don’t-say-anything-stupid phobia results. On the contrary, if the presenter’s idea is affirmed; the group finds their creative spark and from there on out becomes a wonderful little self-governed, self-affirming machine.

So, there I am holding my breath (GASP) thinking maybe this was a bad idea, when I hear laughing.

“PROFE Ella, how do you say ‘Soy un hombre macho y sexy’ in English?”
Ha, you could say- This new style for men says, ‘I am strong (or macho) AND sexy’.
“Tell me, what is your new fashion called?” I ask.

Laura smiles and Roberto just rolls his eyes because he knows too well that this idea will require him to A.) be embarrassed in front of the entire class and b.) become Laura’s puppet or “prodigy” depending on your perspective.

“We will call it, ‘Metro-macho men’”, Laura responds.

The best asset to creative group work is a “fire starter” or bold individual who is able to jump start the creative train and gets the ball rolling. In my class that person is Laura. In an activity a few weeks back when we were describing what we would wear on our perfect date she painted a picture of herself with Brad Pitt on the Beach in Acapulco, Mexico. She’d be wearing a revealing black and white bikini and Brad would be wearing brown Bermuda shorts with his chest bare, oh and they would both be wearing transparent sunglasses, obviously.

In an activity we did just yesterday the task was to use the present perfect tense and write fun quiz for the class. My example was, 'how responsible have you been this week?' Other’s picked 'how friendly' or 'how sporty' are you? Laura wrote a quiz called, 'Are you a good kisser?' (However, there was not one question using the present perfect tense)

So not surprisingly, she was also the inventor of the next biggest thing in fashion “Metro-Macho Men”, a fashion fusing metro sexual fashion with Machismo culture.

I hope that you enjoy the pictures.

Set your standards low

Well, today was my first day of classes. It started off with a bang and ended, well let´s just say...it ended.
Pete made me a bowl of oatmeal and a delicious breakfast sandwich for brainfood and I felt pumped to start the day. I wanted to get to class early, but still took in the morning as I walked along the beautiful river Tomebamba, nevermind the puffs of diesel bus nasty in my asthmatic lungs, to the University of Cuenca. The scene at the school was bustling with energy, lots of new first day of school outfits and cute courting in the courtyard in front of the Department of Philosophy. I walked to the second floor to my assigned room and to my surprise there was another teacher already in the room. I polietly informed her that I had been assigned to the room and she looked at me confused and sort of of feeling sorry for me...
Well after hiking over in my heels (yes, I wore heels) to the second floor of a different building the secretary´s office to get the room situation sorted out. The secretary informed me I did have the correct information so I marched over to the room, not willing to let anyone push my around. I would hold my ground. I would would heed Pete´s advice and ¨not take no crap from nobody¨.
Well, turns out the teacher in my classroom was the teacher of the period before me from 8 to 9...she says to me in English, we´ll be done in 5 more minutes. IDIOT.
Okay, stay composed. Anyone could have made that misstake..right...
My first class was conversation and ever since taking Wilderness Water Safety with Dave Golden I was set of making it my goal to memorize everyone´s name having only heard the names once. BOOYAH! I did it back in the game.
The rest of the class went really well, the students within my department are within their 2nd of 4 years to become english teachers, so they are studious and dedicated. I was even excited to be interrupted by a drum circle in the courtyard just below my classroom. The students are dressed up to the 9´s, as is the Latino way, but have a nice amount of hippie in them which makes me feel right at home. I can almost smell the puget sound.

So, my next class was at 6pm. No problem. I had planned a great first day of activities and the respect and participation I gained from my morning class set me up for good feelings about the second. Also, I took of my heels that gave me blisters. Imagine 40 days hiking in Alaska and NO BLISTERS, but a half day walking in heels in Ecuador and I am hurting.
I can´t deny that I love comfortable shoes. Lesbians are so, so smart.

There I am shutting the door to my house when some jerk feels my butt. I would love to tell you I shouted obsenities at him, but I was so apauled that I just froze. Gross.
Alright, shake it off. Ain´t gonna let a little pervert get me down. What would MLK Jr. do...overcome, overcome.
So I arrive to my department building a little early and this time I play the part of the quick cultural learner and DON´T go in the classroom. My learning curve is impeccable.
Or so I thought.
I wait and everyone leaves, then no one enters...
I go up and down the hallway asking students, teachers, janitors, walls for advice and am told that 222 is my number. Duh its my number it´s my birthday. But, why oh why would 222 let me down (question mark (this computer does not have a question mark))
6:10, 6:15, 6:30...No one.
Well, I say no when to go down fighting AND know when to call it a day.

Pete came to walk me home and it was good to digest the day with him. He always knows what to say, like : ¨I mean, what can you do, the man is a pervert. All you can say is, I am sorry you´re a pervert. ¨

PS. the pictures are totally unrelated, but I thought would spice up a lot of text. This one is of Pete seducing Ms. Ecuador in the Jeep behind him. Thank you Megan Walker for your photography.

Movin' & Groovin'

After sitting everyday all day since September 2nd, I am happy to report that the altitude wailed on me this weekend…and it was wonderful. Yay, for a great weekend of moving and grooving beginning with Friday’s 2-hour salsa lesson and late night dancing, then Saturday’s hike around an area called Papallacta with thermal baths and today’s 3-hour basketball madness.

Friday morning I finished teaching my last of three practice teaching sessions. One highlight was that we practiced a dialogue using questions based on travel and packing for a vacation using Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie as model dummies who had no idea what to bring to Miami and while making a packing list one of my students put on my bikini. Very nice.

Friday afternoon the volunteers from my program took salsa lessons. Our instructors could MOVE and were entertained by our lack of latino “suavetude” when shaking our hips. Surprise: I left the two hour lesson sweaty and needed a shower.

Saturday the group took a trip on little windy roads carved out of the muddy mountainside to Papallacta. The terrain along the river hike was dense along a cascading waterfall. I toyed with the idea of trying Guatita (cow stomach) soup with peanut sauce or Cuy (guinea pig), but opted for a grilled cheese sandwich.

Today at noon nearly 20 volunteers and friends from host families got together to play some basketball. I wanted to reconnect with my baller side, so I decided to throw down. Well, “throwing down” consisted of asking for a sub nearly every 3 plays as I panted heavily at 9,000 feet. Alas, it was fun to practice the ol’ back door and throw some elbows around.

Lots of love to all friends and family,

Ella

You say papa, I say potato

Reviewing most basic Spanish has been a crash course in RE-realizing that the formal and in-formal “you”, one of the most fundamental rules of the language creates an unspoken social hierarchy which infiltrates speech and culture on all levels. Here in Quito, Ecuador people are self-affirmed classists, not racists, but “classists”.

More than word choice, using the in-formal versus the formal can also be a strategy if you want to butter someone up to speak informally or conversely, if you want to put walls between others, you speak formally. As Ecuadorians feel no strong moral, Catholic consciousness binding them to shame in speaking politically incorrectly, the application of this seemingly simple concept becomes exponentially biting in some situations.

Example: the businessman that choose to address me informally, talks to me as a close friend because he wants to make me comfortable with my purchase (AKA not-so-kindly rip me off)

Another Example: An employee uncomfortable with the semi-sketchy boss can choose speak to him formally (AKA create an invisible “you’re a sketch-ball and I’m keeping my distance” line)

Now if that aspect of language doesn’t help you to see that peoples language influences the way that they think, I don’t know what will.

Viva Ecuador

Ecuador it is.

A week has gone by and I’m happy to say that so far I’ve seen the University I’ll be teaching at, spent 20 hours on a bus, bought a cell phone, learned to Ecua-wine in order to get what I want, watched a man eat fire, saw Ms. Ecuador, tried French fry soup, caught a glimpse of Jefferson Perez, national speed walking champion and have been tempted by many a grilled pig street food vendors.

I am spending the year in Ecuador and will be teaching English at the University of Cuenca. I don’t know much more than that as my director is on vacation and my meeting with the Director of the Dean of the Philosophy department leads me to believe I will be the thesis advisor of English teachers rather than the beginning level English instructor of adolescent girls.

This uncertainty leaves me feeling balanced and provides my life with much meaning.

As I try to make sense of things I will write. So, feel free to read a long, skim, look at pictures as you like.

I know last year people were pretty timid about commenting on my blog while I was in Bolivia, but I’m all about diversity of opinion and I certainly am not holding my tongue, so you shouldn’t either.