Last Day: Things to Remember

For my final day in the classroom with my 8A parallel (the tougher of the two parallels) I wanted to get their feedback in a way where they could all share. For both parallels I made awards for each student and recognized them individually for something they earned or did well during the partial such as “most improved writing.” With 8A, I decided to have them discuss openly what I could have done better, what we should have covered more during the unit, how I can better manage the classroom, etc. As always, some students sat on the floor as I was while others remained in their desks, but they all contributed to the conversation. That is how that parallel worked, once 3 or 4 contributed, they all felt compelled to add to the conversation and got ideas from what their classmates said. Instead of having each of them write down answers on paper, I got much more beneficial fedback from them just by talking to them. I don't think we could have done this if we hadn't built a rapor with one another. They trusted me not to get angry with their honesty, and I trusted them to help me with that honesty, one reason why I both loved and had trouble with this parallel.

Our class discussion lasted about 20 minutes, moving through the questions and hearing the opinion of every single student. Here are some of the most helpful things the students told me:

1. “Use individual punishment rather than just taking daily points from our grade and a way for us to see it.”

-Explaination: At the beginning of the unit I realized that I needed some sort of system for keeping the 8A class responsible for talking out of turn, disrupting class, etc. so I used the same method that my MT had used. I would take points off of their “daily grade” which was a system the school used called “attitude assessment” that would be added into their final grades at the end of the partial. While the kids were used to this, I wasn't and was unsure about what constituted points being taken off or given, so I just used a clipboard and took off points when they were talking when someone else was or disrupting class. At first it worked, but some students did not care about their grade and I really didn't have an alternate plan for them other than just sending them outside of the class. I picked this up in the fall, but one of the teachers I observed at Colegio would tell his students to go outside until they were ready for class which I liked because it put how long they were in the hall in their hands. I started using the same line and that worked with two of my problem students. Still, there were some small disruptions that should have been prevented and my kids told me that one of their previous teachers would punish them with a minute of wall sits (physical punishment, is this legal?) and would write their name on the board in a box. There were three boxes on the board and whomever was the final person to get their name in the box would get an email home to his or her parent. Basically, the class had to try together to keep from being punished. They also had good boxes that worked the same way. I don't think I will try wall sits because that seems like it would take a lot of time out of the class, but I do like the box idea.

2. “Spend more time on the history.”

-I do wish I could have done this because my 8^th graders had never learned about the Civil Rights Movement in depth before. We may have had more time to cover it if I'd cut out certain activities, but at the time I though two days was enough time to cover the most important aspects of the movement. The student were generally interested in the racial hate crimes and the people that fought it, but I moved on to begin the play and touched on these things sporadically nonetheless. I think now that they would have gotten more out of the play and understood it more if we would have covered this time in history more thoroughly. If I do this play again in the states, I hope to work with the students' history class to connecting history and literature more thoroughly.  

A Second Glance

I have learned a lot about second chances, second glances, second tries while here in Ecuador. Today was my last day in Quito for this trip, & probably my last time for quite some time. I decided to be a tourist today, but it ended up not being what I thought as is ever the case in Ecuador.

El arbol de vida y la panacea detrás 

My family left yesterday which was a second chance in & of itself. I often wonder how I am related to them & this only made me more curious. Sure I look just like the Dyer's, yes I have the feet of a Thurmond, but where did I get this brain, this curiosity, this stubborness (oh yeah, that's definitely the Dyer side)? I felt like a tour guide for my family, translating, learning a lot of Spanish, practicing a lot of wagering & slang, trying to navigate while staying sane. I did not enjoy it. The nice thing about traveling with my friends is we all have the same basic wants & needs: explore, eat, practice some Spanish conversations, relax, & dance/sing/move. When I went to Banos with them before, we immediately made two new friends on the bus. A fearless Egyptian girl named Milak & a stressed out, guapo Italian Candadian named Alex. We arrived, we took flaming shots (explanation: Shannon, another teacher at Colegio, lived in Banos for a few months so when we ran into her she brought us to her friends' bar who then fed us shots that were on fire & disgusting), then we crashed. Since we were all equally non-fluent in Spanish yet desperately wanting to practice the 10-200 words we know, we all jabber & make friends everywhere we go.



My family knows approximately 3 words in Spanish, are frightened rather than intrigued my 3rd world customs, thinks it's strange to hang clothes on a line, & need a nap in the middle of a beautiful day. How is it possible for my to travel hapipily with them, especially since I have this defective thing inside of me that feels like it is my sole responsibility to make everyone around me happy, like it is my fault if something goes wrong. Jesse always points this out to me, but I can't help it. If others are happy, I am happy. If I feel someone isn't having fun, I won't have fun. It's not just any old person, though. It was OK with me if the Canadian & Egyptian weren't happy, it's just the people I love most, the reason Jesse notices it so much. My family stresses me out to begin with, but I love them & I wanted them to love Ecuador like I do, so I tried to make it perfect. Of course, perfection is impossible so I was disappointed & I believe they were, too. This is why I always travel solo: I can make myself happy, it's easy. Give me a nice view, a coffee, maybe a museum or two, & I can be happy for days, maybe months. But the minute someone is with me, I am asking "How's the view? Do you like the coffee? Are you having fun? What do you want to do next?" & they're probably thinking "Shut up, Lauren & let me enjoy my coffee & the view!", but instead the say "yeah, mm hmm" which only makes me think I've screwed up, I should have taken them to the other coffee shop or mountain or museum. SO maybe it's me that screws things up, but that's me, happy traveling alone, unhappy home alone.

cafecita with Tori, she said she liked it

picking a wedgie while asking my mom if she likes the view


How'd I start takling about this? Oh yes, Banos. So the first time I went to Banos was amazing. We rode bikes to the waterfalls, went on a hike to the river above them, got lost from each other, took the cable car back across, ate 50 cent fro-yo (Ecuadorian fruit flavors), biked down a mountains, got tired & hitchhiked, drank beer/ate llapangachos/tacos, rode in the back of a truck to a tree house where there were cows, stars, & a smoldering volcano.

the salsa party

It was amazing. Oh, & we salsa'd until 2 am in stobey nightclubs AND apparently I'm good, because my big butt doesn't have to do much. After a day of bikin', hikin', & dancin', Kat, Fausat, & I got $20 75 min. massajes/facials/manicures (yes, I have gotten just as many massages & manicures in Ecuador in 2 months than 22 years in the U.S.) before hopping on the bus back to Quito. This second trip to Banos with my family doesn't compare. I wanted to replicate the first, but how do you do what you did with an eclectic group of young locals & Canadians with your parents & sister who don't know Spanish & are scared of bikes, dancing, & South Americans? I wanted them to know the fun I had, to feel the adrenaline & joy I had when I looked at the mountains from my bicycle or sweated in the discotecas to Spanish club music. I wanted them to savor the Pilsener & massage after working fard for the most beautiful view in Banos & after getting dirty from the smoke of a volcano. At least they got to see la mitad del mundo (the middle of the world). Maybe I had to earn those things. Maybe it took 2 months of being lost in the language to finally be able to say "listo!" Anyways, Banos is beautiful & I hope my family like it because I know I do. It's healing water & volcano air make me fall in love with the small towns of Ecuador.

me & Tori in a doon buggy

Maybe it was the stress from my family or maybe it was the realization of how little time I have left in Quito, either way, today was MY day. I honed my museum girl attitude & took to the streets of Quito for some serious beauty time in La Capilla del Hombre, an art gallery/museum of Ecuadorian artist Guayasamini. I nearly started crying in the musem because of what I had experienced here & what he painted in what he saw living in Quito: the misery, poverty, starvation, normal things that go unnoticed he brought to the people in huge paintings with haunting eyes & exposed ribs. I remember a few weeks ago when Kat & I went to the top of Pichincha on the teleferico & she said she couldn't believe what we were seeing was real. There were barren mountains, huge pieces of land, rolling rocks & an alpaca. It was beautiful, but for me those are the REAL things. The unreal things are the kids without clothes or the man who sleeps on the street. The babies who are dirty on the bus & the kids beggins for 5 cents in the plazas. Those things seems more UNREAL to me. Guayasamini made them real, but them unable to ignore. Here are a few of his paintings.

Afterwards I took a taxi to la Iglesia de Guapulo. I walked in as mass was ending so I got to see the inside fresh from singing & praying. There was a car outside getting holy water shaken on it because it wouldn't start & women selling candles & rosaries on the steps. Inside were Virgens, men in robes, saints looking holy, you know, normal cathedral stuff. Today, though, I was feeling reverent. I decided to sit & look at her for a while, & by her I mean Mary. She looked pretty, peaceful, yet sad. She was holding baby Jesus & church goers were knelt in front if her, holding her porcelain feet trying to grasp what they need, what they want. I looked at her face, then around her at the intricate detail someone put into creating not only, but the paintings & embellishments on the walls all around her. Someone important must have sat near here, because there were small, golden, equally intricate. I touched my third eye but didn't make the cross because, well, I'm not Catholic, but I wanted to do something to show Mary I was thinking about her & all the children & misery I had just seen suffering on pictures in a museum, but here I was, overly well-fed, just saw my family, & happy. That's what my thumb to my third eye said to Mary, it said "I know, & I won't ignore it."

la Iglesia de Guapulo

I went outside & wrote on my envelope then decided at the last minute to go somewhere I'd heard of near Centro Historico: La museo del Agua (the museum of water). It was really cool even though I couldn't understand most of what I was reading. I followed everyone else, did what they did, said what they said, & mirrored their inflections & expressions. The best thing about the museum was the view. I could see Cuyambe (the volcano), La Basilica, La panecea, all of centro...it was beautifully place in the middle of "avenida de los volcanes" (the avenue of the volcanos). On a clear day (do those exist in Quito) you can apparently see all 5 of the volcanos surrounding Quito.

After I left, I walked past a restaurant & glanced inside. "Interesting," I thought, "that sign said milkshakes AND coffee." I walked about 5 more steps, got scared because it was a bad side of town, & decided I would rather have a milkshake & coffee before getting robbed. I walked back up the hill & popped in. "Puedo ir a arriba?" (Can I go upstairs?) "Por su puesto!" (of course!) the restaurant owner answered me. From the top of his house/restaurant, I could see everything, one of the best views of Quito next to the top of Pichincha. After drinking in la mirador (the view), I went downstairs to drink in some sugar. I ordered a banana milkshake (basically banana milk, I had one for breakfast, too, they're a new favorite) & un cafe con leche (boiled milk, instant coffee, & sugar, another Ecuadorian favorite). The I procided to write on my napkin & stare at the city below & surrounding mountains. Then the owner decided I looked lonely so he started chatting me up for the next hour, showing me all of his old pictures of different parts of Quito fron the last 1800's before the millions of people & houses. He was wonderful, so now I have to plug for him. If ever in Quito, this restaurant is a must: beautiful, small, cheap, delicious, & one of the most honest & sincere Ecuadorians I have had the pleasure to meet: "Punkuyaku", Restaurante Mirador. The owner's name is Alberto & he wears Irish old man hats & van sneakers.

Here's what I wrote on my napkin while I sat up there: "From up here, the city looks tired, worn by travelers, the local users, abusers, onlookers. The Virgen & the church look over the buildings, houses, streets, alleys, kids, saddened, wanting to rest if only we'd let it. I see the plane, but can't hear it. I hear the people, but can't understand them.


Now I am off to the end of school. The two days I had last week weakened my spirit. There's a reason I chose secondary education, & 7th graders were not that reason. I am tried, exhausted, mentally drained from my three months here & I am ready to be done. I leave for the beach for 6 days by myself on Thursday, will return next Wednesday, & I fly back to the states the next day. This will be a time for me to reflect, to be in my natural state of happy solitude with the beach & the sun & probably some gringos. I am looking forward to hammocks, reading, writing, & being still. To hiking to the deserted beaches & hopping a boat to the island there. I am still here, I am still.

शवासन (Shavasana)

It's funny the places I go in shavasana (शवासन). Today it was a journey, but they always start the same: the mountain I woke up on in Kings Canyon when the older kids let me slip until the sun came up. I woke up cocooned in my sleeping bag, watching the colors take over the sky. It's always first because I touched Heaven that day. Then my mind takes me where ever it wants. Today I went to two different rivers, one in CA & one in New Hampshire. I remember bathing really early one morning before everyone woke up. It was snow melt, so it was freezing, woke me up & made me feel clean & happy. The second river was one with a slide that we all went down on one of our backpacking trips. Then, we fell asleep in the sun half naked. I always wallow in nature in शवासन, often meandering through sunshine, grass, river, & mountains, which is how I know that every summer this is my only option for a job. Traveling through the woods as minimally as possible is what grounds me, is what reminds me I am human, I am happy, I am real. This summer I want to do this close to home. I know this because that is always the next place I go. Home, to the North Georgia mountains, North Carolina, Ducktown, North Alabama. Sometimes I feel proud of all these places I've been, but I've never even backpacked in the smokies or camped in my backyard. I'm graduating in May & don't know what fall has in store, so summer is gonna be that: adventuring my Southeast region of beauty & love. Oh, & learning how to kayak from the best teacher I know. So where do I go at home? That moon that shines in my living room window, the millions of estrellas at whitewater express, the view of the mountains 5 miles from my house on blood mtn, walking with the cows at the farm house...all these & more. 


That's why I yoga, to go to all of my favorite places, feeling my favorite things, the sun, cold water, hard granite...


I miss you, USA. I miss you kings canyon. I miss you northeast mountains & oceans. I miss you southeast cows & rivers. When I get back in 3 weeks I'm gonna smell you & kiss you & touch you until I'm satisfied. Oh, I miss you lack of humans. Except you Zady Ludlum, I do miss you, your fascination with dirt & ants. I miss you, too Jen Jen & your ability to relax & make me giggle. I miss you CTan, Jesse, Tu Tu, Kayce...I miss you home. 

Carnaval on the Pacific

Carnaval was quite the experience before I even left Quito. Colegio has a huge humdinger for the festivities leading up to Ash Wedneday including a week long campaign, dance, etc. for the "Carnaval Queen". Carnaval Queen is prom/homecoming queen on crack. I'm not sure I can to the craziness of it all justice, but a female student is chosen from the 10th, 11th, & 12th grades (cuartos in espanol, cuartos a sextos = 4th-6th, they count the grades differently)  by her classmates & she instantly becomes all the rage. Like every girl in South America, they are pretty, but these girls are exceptionally beautifull, tall, skinny, tan, long brown hair, the works. Oh, & really really rich. The cap on the campaign for these girls is $10,000 each. The dance was amazing; each class choreographed their own one hour musical with different themes (candyland, aladin, & circus). After the class did their dance, the queen candidate pops out of something for her grand entrance. SO the circus girl came out of a golden egg in the air, aladin girl popped out of a lamp with some fog, & candyland girl was on top of a house in a gumball machine made out of balloons & all the balloons came out & she was standing there. It was cool.

11th Graders, Aladin Theme

10th Graders, Candy Theme

We also get 2 days off school for Carnaval which is probably the best part. We went to the coast for the trip on a 12 hour bus ride to Ayampe, a small beach down that is the meca for surfers, gringos, & cute little Ecuadorian boys. It was exactly what I wanted & needed. There weren't many other people here & the hostal we stayed in was owned by a local family with a 9 yr old son. IT had an outside shower, hammock, a Cali surfer lifeguard, beds...all the essentials for a lovely night.  We got there around lunch time on Saturday & played on the beach, swam, & got really sunburnt.

Our first night in Ayampe at Sunset

yay ayampe! This is the main street that goes through the town

Across from Ayampe is an Island named after people who were hanged there. We were five of a just a few people there. We climbed on rocks, ate some dinner, then got up the next morning to run & do yoga on the beach. We swam, ate some delicious breakfast at a surf shop, & left for Montanita.

Beach Yoga

the island across from ayampe

As soon as we stepped off the bus (which had to stop half a mile away because of traffic) we were bombarded with spuma (foam spray) & humans. There were so many people here, more than PCB during spring break. It was ridiculous. We decided to stay one night rather than 2 so we could go back to relaxing in Ayampe. Montanita was fun, though. We danced almost all night with some other friends we made from Colorado in Ayampe. The bars were & discotecas were playing music until 9 a.m. so we didn't sleep much. We all woke up with glitter & foam all over us.

espuma attack

sooooo many people

The next day we ate another delicious breakfast, I took a hammock nap, then we went back to Ayampe. The little boys I befriended before I left were glad we came back. We'd played soccer with them so we were tight & they had brought me to their "excercise tree" which was just a branch they did pull-ups on & their "club house" which was a  big rock on the beach. This is one of my favorite moments from the trips so I have to go into detail. They asked me if I wanted to go to where we could see the clear water (all of this is in Spanish, mind you). Of course I agreed to go & they told me I could only come if I closed my eyes & let me lead me with their hands. We walked across the beach, over a bunch of rocks, & up a lava rock until we reached the top where I had to cheat climb with my eyes open. Then we made it to the top & the waves were crashing all around us, the 5 little boys were all sitting Lord of the Flies style looking out at the ocean & being quiet & still. We had a moment of pure serenity. When they decided it was time to go, we saw a big leaf bug & a bunch of crabs on their rock. I attemped to say something about the animals being in their club house, but they reminded me that "pacha mama" (mother earth) gave them the club house & the crabs & bugs were their friends in Ayampe. I loved these children. I plan to go back to Ayampe at the end of March mainly because of the beauty & love there.

a couple of my little boyfriends

our hostal

Monday in Ayampe consisted of me swimming a lot, playing in the sand, & throwing water baloons at surfers with the little boys. We are dinner at Tortuga, another hostal near ours. I had caprese salad, Peruvian pulpo (octpopus), fig & queso, & beer. That night we (everyone staying in the hostal, surfer dude, some local Ecuadorians, & the students from Colorado) sat around a bon fire on the beach drinkin' beer & exchanging stories. It was perfect. We flew back the next day rested, tan, & Carnavaled out. I love Ecuador.

sittin around in monta

playin with our little boys

listo!! (ready!!)

Lately I am feeling restless, thinking a lot about my future classroom, future living, future job, & the lack of all these things. I've been having dreams about small cabins in the woods that feel & smell like Jesse's farm house. I never thought I would miss the farm house with its scattered, empty beer cans, mouse traps, & cold nights...but here I am, dreaming about the smell of the fires we would fall asleep listening to, the night I read in front of the fire while Jesse played drums, & when the only sound outside weas the cows mooing & coyotes howling. I miss my country mountains that haven't been plastered with houses & buildings...

jesse & miss lisa at the farm house

In other news...
On Saturday Kat, Carol, Juan Francisco (Carol's host bro) & I went to Otavalo & then a volcano (Cuicocha) that collapsed over 2,000 years ago & is now filled with melted glacier ice creating a beautiful, cold, crystal lake with two earth formations in the middle.

On our way here we stopped in Cayambe for breakfast at a famous little breakfast joint that had a swing zip-line on the playground. Super peligroso y super divertido! (really dangerous & really fun). They were famous for their milk. The restaurant was named "El Cafe de la Vaca" after all (vaca=cow).

We loaded up in a small boat to get to the middle of the body of water (& by loaded, I mean the top of the boat was easily sinking closer & closer to the water. I was pretty scared until we turned around because an entire family was crying, freaking out...when they got out, I quit freaking...at least until the "captain" let another family on so we sunk down again. It's the Ecuadorian way, money first, safety second).

The Village of Cuicocha is small, clean, & not crowded. In other words, it is completely different from ever other Ecuadorian town. There are two volcanic rock islands in the middle of the lake where a hotel & a few restaurants used to sit. Fortunately, the National Parks in Ecuador made them leave & now there are only remnants of the buildings. The abondoned buildings are hidden from the rim of the volcano & they are creepy & lonely in the middle of the water way that goes over the connected volcanoes, but as soon as you get through the water way there is an even more ominous man-made object sitting on the mountain: the virgen. The statues/dolls are everywhere in Ecuador, but I found this very strange. There she was, in a small cave dug-out for her to precide over this volcano with a bench in front of her for anyone who wanted to get off the boat in the freezing glacier water to go pray. This confuses me for several reasons, mainly because I don't understand WHY?







Cuicocha- On the right island you can see a small, crak circle; that is the cave with the virgen in it.

Catholicism is a mystery to me, the way everything is done in huge building that cost hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars to build. The traditions, the customs, & goodness gracious all the virgens. A few weeks ago when we went to centro to look at some of the historic buildings & churches we saw stores with baby Jesus dolls in them. They also had different outfits for the dolls. You could have cowboy Jesus, or baseball player Jesus, or hippie Jesus...all in baby doll form. People will bring these baby dolls to church or the alternative type of doll, the virgen. I get it, people need something to hold sometimes, something tangible to project their feelings or beliefs, right? But what about the things that are already here? I mean a glacier lake in the middle of a volcano that still has volcanic gas escaping it's core in the form of bubbles...that seems like a tangible enough thing to pray to if that's your style, why add a concrete virgen in a cave to the mix? Oh well, just another thing I don't understand.

Cowboy baby Jesus

Either way it was a nice day in Otavalo & Cuicocha. I bout some alpaca yarn for $2/ball, some wool/cotton leggings, & some night shoe/socks. So yeah, all grandma stuff.

The Market in Otavalo. It's huge, covers many blocks in the middle of the town, & most everything is made/from Otavalo. 

The next day we went to a Liga soccer game in Casa Blanca. Liga (one of 5-6 small Ecuadorian pro fútbol teams) won 5-0 & it was pretty crazy in the "Muerte Blanca" section on the south side. You know when you watch soccer games on TV & you wonder if they ever stop singing or blowing horns or bangin' on their drums or blowing whistles or jumping...well the answer is no, they don't. It was so cool to watch & I wanted to be in the "student section" version of Liga, but it did say Muerte Blanca which means "dead white" so I was a little nervous. So Kat, Carol, Brittany, & I sat with the families//kids section & enjoyed out $2 40 oz. cervezas & $5 Liga jerseys. After the game we had a great meal at Carol's house (grilled chicken with this homemade creamy  hot sauce, so good I got the recipe, rice of course, ensalada, & her mom made us a wonderful apple pie with almonds in it- yes, I got the recipe for that, too). I also learned how to make empanadas this week so I'll have to give that a try when I get state-side.

all for now.

la

Papallacta (Paradise)

Hopin' the bus in Cumbaya to Papallacta


Soo...Papallacta. I mentioned this place in my first blog post about Ecuador. If you need a reminder, it's the place with the thermal pools my family brought me to one night when I had to wear pants. Don't worry, this time I had a bathing suit & I was ready. The 4 other gals & I arrived in Papa on Saturday pretty early in the day with bags of groceries from Supermaxi in towe. Here's what I brought for our one night stint in Heaven: bathing suit, toothbrush, diabetes stuff, yoga pants, sweat shirt, wallet, 2 boxes of wine, croissants, cheese, avacados, yogurt, & bloody mary supplies...so yeah, I was livin' healthy this weekend.

The hostel we stayed in (Hosteria Pampallacta)was like many of the others we have stayed in: family owned, friendly, flexible. This place was owned by a woman & her son, Pedro. Upon arriving, our room wasn't ready because we had gotten there an hour before check-in. They told us to drop our bags & get in the pools. We didn't argue & then we sank into a pool where we hardly moved until the next day.

The thermals all get their water from the river that flows from the naturally (volcanic) heated springs further up the mountain. Since we were in the clouds on the mountains, it was chilly, but the pools were the perfect temperature. There was one outside & two inside. The inside pools were so hot I could barely put sit in the room on the first day. The smaller room was like a sweat lodge filled with steam...I couldn't even see Fausat sitting in the pool. The owner came & checked on us after a little while & told us that she give "treatments". Treatments!? Of course I want a treatment, especially from a 53 year old woman who looks 32. I signed up for her next available time & continued to soak in sulfur until 4:00 p.m.

While we waited we did many stressful things: like drink coffee, color, read, giggle, & eat parfaits. I know most North Americans can't find it in themselves to relax, but I am not one of those people. I can relax better than most anyone I know, especially after a week of teaching, a month in the city, & Kat getting robbed. We all NEEDED to relax. Then it was time for my treatment.

<< Discovering la ducha y bano (the shower & bath)

<<holy macaroni bathtub

Treatment is a massage, but not in the way you would think. Jesse got me a massage with a professional once & I remember getting naked, putting a towel over my booty, then falling asleep for an hour while the ladygreased me up & rubbed me. It was amazing, but this was totally different. We talked the whole time & she also answered her hotel phone while she was rubbing me. Like I said, it was strange, but I think this woman was magic. You see, when she lifted the blanket (fully clothed massages in Ecuador) to look at my feet, she touched the outside of them, pinched my big toe, & asked me a few questions: "Do you know what this is from?", "You have something very wrong with your kness?" & "Why do you drink so much leche (milk)?"

<<Answer to the milk question: It's so creamy in Ecuador that I can't resist it, especially when it's warm & chocolatey & paired with an empanada de queso

The first question was her kind way of referencing a bone that juts out of my foot. My mom has it, my papa had it, & I have it. I think my cousin Joe may have it, too, but I always assumed it was just something that ran in the Thurmond blood. It also hurts sometimes. I remember when I played softball & basketball it would ache constantly & it still will start to hurt pretty bad on backpacking trips or when I go for a run. When she squeezed, she then asked the second question about my knees. I'm not sure how she knew how screwed up my knees were by squeezing my foot, but she was really concerned. If you know me at all, then you know I was a catcher year-round for about 8 years of my life. Everytime I squat my knees pop & I have holes in each knee where my bones would rub together after every squat & stand. My knees don't usually hurt, but when she shook my foot with my big toe I could hear my knees creeking like haunted wood. No one had every pointed out my deteriorating body this before. She told me I was going to hurt when I was old, worse even than my feet & knees do now when I backpack, hike, or run. I tried to blow it off because what's done is done: I wouldn't take back all of those years catching for anything, nor would I give up the bone in my foot that remind me of my Mom & Papa.

<< Answer #2 to the milk question: $1 tres leche that tastes better than it looks!

Then came the third questions: "Why do you drink so much milk?" Well, for starters. because I like it. Second, how do you know how much milk I drink, lady? She said she knew because the big bones in my feet that I always assumed were genetically wide were actually that way because of all of the dairy I consume. I´m not so sure about this, but she´s probably right about me needing to quit eating so much cheese, yogurt, & milk. So far I haven´t slowed down: milk, cheese, & yogurt are the main course for most of my meals, but I haven been trying to go easier on the rice, papas, etc.




Did I mention our room had a chimenea para fuego!? Below is a picture of it. That night we were all asleep by 10 thanks to some intense yoga with my ipod, a lot of hot bath soaking, & gorging of food/wine/bloody mary, & a long game of never have I ever. The next day Kat & I got up at 7 to yoga for an hour before her massage, we had a lovely breakfast of yogurt (you can see how much of her "no dairy!" sermon had on me), fruit, french toast con nutella, huevos fritas, jugo de naranja, & cafe. I soaked, napped, soaked again, then we eventually made it back to ever crowded Quito.

After 5 days of being back in Quito: There was an earthquake this week, classroom activities crumbled in front of me, I got food poison & stayed up barfing & d-wording all night, my roommate woke me up drunk at 1:30 last night, Chiquita didn't wake up Monday so I went without breakfast & lunch...it was a long week. But one thing great did happen: My family bought tickets to come visit me during Tori's Spring Break, so that made me smile :]

from the bottom of my heart & the middle of Ecuador

I feel my body changing, which is good because my mind & soul certainly are & what a shame it'd be if they left their clothes behind!


 A few things have been leading up to this, but I feel that I am finally sitting, looking at the life around me & simply accepting & enjoying it. I have always chased it, quickly, not thinking about the consequences & wanting to feel alive all of the time. Last summer was the essence of this Lauren in the mountains of California. I was in a world with no cares. Every day was beautiful, there were granite mountains & melting snow feeding my body. I got to play in the woods with kids all day for goodness sake! I smile just thinking about it, but I was chasing then. I think the chase was necessary for me to feel good about sitting: "One should make no effort obtain pleasure, for that would be a waste of life & would not bring the supreme peace that springs alone from the Lord's lotus feet", Sage Prahlada. All I did was chase pleasure, causing many disruptions & wreaking havoc in any small amount of peace I thought I had. Now I'm here, at peace.

I'm not sure what changed in the last 6 months, but I know it's not just one thing. Maybe it was ChelsTan living with me before she left for Thailand & feeling so at home with my best friend. It was nice just to listen to her talk or exchange new songs or hear her excitement when she learned to play a new song on her "gitfiddle" (her word, not mine). That's block one.

Then I was alone. So alone. Everyone needs to be alone sometimes, but with her across the world & Jesse far away in a different way, I had to figure out what I wanted. Chels had made me start going to yoga, I was learning how to teach, reading a ton, writing even more, listening to teenagers whom I love & professors I respect. This was my element: being a student & a teacher (can I be a student-teacher forever, Peg Graham?). I also made new friends which was nice. My new friends talked about books with me & we all went to bed at 9:30 after doing lesson plans with a glass of wine in one hand & fears/anxiety in the other (what can I say, English teachers). I screwed up....a lot. I had a few meltdowns (thank goodness only one was at school during lunch time, not in front of students, the rest were in the car going home). Jesse never left my side, always supportive of my teaching ways, understanding my obsessions with doing well, but calming me when I didn't with his overt simplicity: "Lauren, it's only one day", "Lauren, don't give yourself so much credit for screwing them up", & my favorite, "Laur, be OK with being OK." I'm not as much of a perfectionist as my parents or my sister, but I have always wanted to be the BEST at my job: the best counselor, the best leader, the best student, & now, the best teacher. I will never be the best, but I will be OK, & that is OK. Yes, I still want to be awesome & I will try really hard to keep those kids interested & learning every day, but I am OK with that not always turning out how I wanted it to. I am figuring out who I am as a teacher, as a daughter, as a friend, as a traveler, as a yogi, as a sister, as a student...& that is OK.

< in California, eatin' chips on a rock in a one piece

In other words, I think I may be growing up. Not in that "I'm gonna get maried & never have fun again" way of being a grown up, but in that "Hello, my name is Lauren, & I know who I am" kind of way ["The happiness which is like poison at first & like nectar at the end, which springs from a clear understanding of the Self, is said to be of the nature of 'goodness' (satva)", Bhagavad-Gita]. A lot of people don't find this, or search for it forever, but I have been exposed to some beautiful places & amazing (& terrible) people in my life that have brought out parts of me I loved &/or hated. It's important to know who you don't want to be just as it is important to know who you DO want to be. I want to say thank you, to everyone, even the people I can't say thank you to because they're gone (Coach West, my Nana & Papa), I don't know where they are anymore (those two girls from my first year at Camp Kudzu that were an Athiest Asian & a quiet, funny black chica, they were my friends who weren't from Blairsville & were nothing like any Blairsvillians), & people who I hold so close I probably suffocate them (Chels T, Chels V, Sambo, Jesse, Zady Nash, Mom, Dad, Mamaw, Jen Jen, Tu Tu, Professors George & Peg, English Ed Cohort).

Then there are the people who brought out the worst in me. I won't name them, but I love them all the same for showing me who I don't want to be. There are also far away people that I don't hate, but they sailed through my life & left a distinct mark not unlike a death-eater mark (Harry Potter ref, thanks Lawson & Chels V for making me read them). These people are probably the most special to me because I think about them so often even though I do not see or talk to them anymore. Ben Clements is a prime example. He really taught me how to be a leader & teacher. He cared, was selfless, funny, & would do anything to help out kids learn in the woods. He had convictions he didn't waiver on (LNT nut) & showed so much patience & put faith in me like no one ever did before. He'll never know what he meant to me. Jenn Morrell...my Kudzu woman. Always gave me a place to stay in Boston, always kind, the absolute epitome of selfless...if there is an angel in this world, it's here. Tom, you're in Japan, but I owe my adventures partially to you. Kayce/Court/Tay/Caleb/Cody/Kaley...my high school sweet hearts. Even if we never see each other again, I love all so much for putting up with me back in those days...I was such a drag & you loved me anyways. Cody/Tay/Caleb, if you're reading this, I know you're laughing & that's why I like ya, you humble me. Kayce/Court/Sully, if you're reading, I know you're wishing you were here with me, & I wish it, too. Especially you Kayce/Court, you two deserve to get away together to just smile for weeks.

I guess what started as an attempt to figure out what changed in my life to get me here (& by here I don't just mean Ecuador I also mean my mental/spiritual state, but mainly I do mean Ecuador) turned into a big thank-you note. I do graduate in May, so I guess I'll be sending formal invites/thank you's soon, but formal ain't my way. So thanks everybody. Thanks also to books for letting me read them, drop them in water, write in them, & finish them. Thanks for notebooks, for letting my pen scrawl all over you. Thanks to Pfizer for letting my dad work for you & get me through college. Thanks divine & plants, for letting me breathe in new air every day. Thanks body, for letting me live in you for a little but. Thanks everything, a big thanks. Now, I'm going to give myself a hug & you should, too. Close your eyes, say a thank you for what you are, & then smile.

I promise not to be so gooey next time, but I had to get it out of me because I'm not dead & stuff. "One should cultivate the highest good while the sense are not yet frail, suffering is not yet firmly rooted, and adversities have not yet become overwhelming", Kula-Arnava-Tantra.

Simplicty. Patience. Compassion. 

alarms going off.

Yesterday my dear friend & fellow teacher, Kat, was robbed on a main street near a park in Quito at 5 p.m. I had gotten off the bus & said goodbye to her around 4:30 to pick up a package & lug it 8 km back home. I wasn't going to walk, but the traffic was bad, the weather was beautiful, & I had just bought a delicious pastry so I decided walking would be best. I got home around 6, met the other student teachers for trivia at 8, & Kat didn't seem a bit shaken. She referred to a robbery when she talking to her cousin & that's when I asked her what the was talking about:

Parque de Carolina, cerca Amazonas

Amazonas is one of the main roads, always jammed with carros, motos, taxis, bicicletas, & pedestrians. It runs by a mall, a park, a movie theater, & many other buildings & restaurants. At 5:00 pm she left to meet her friend for dinnner & as she walked toward her house on Amazonas two men parted for her & she said she immediately felt strange about it. Seconds later one had grabbed her, put a knife to her throat, & the other starting demanding & taking everything from her. She´s a little girl, very pretty, & could probably befriend the devil, but she said she just gave them everything then they told her to go away. As she told the story, her cousin told me that you have no choice but to give everything because otherwise you WILL get stabbed, shot, taken, whatever. At first I thought these were generic warnings given to tourists, but this is KAT! Strong, awesome, Kat. So the guys told her to go away & she stood there in shook, everything she´d lost running through her mind. A man on a bike apparently saw them take off with her stuff because he took off after the men & started yelling at the police ahead to stop them., they did, got the stolen goods back, slapped one of the guys for yelling rude Spanish slang at Kat & then LET THEM GO.  < Kat

I don't know if it is my love for Kat that's gotten me all shook up or the fact that I have been walking everywhere & acting all resilient & tough because I'm big & have a knife, but I am ready to leave Quito. The city could be beautiful, but the people are suffocating it & me. The buildings upon buildings, people grabbing you, no room to breathe outside...all of it. It is a city I suppose like most others, but it is still different here. I am paranoid everywhere, my heart beats quicker, I am suspicious of everyone,  &I am constantly putting my hand in my pockets & purse to make sure no one has stole my pancreas or meter or wallet. Today at school I decided to plan trips to the jungle, beach, small towns every weekend just to be able to breathe. Even my family here is pushing these boundaries that I have no control over. Yes, it is a cultural thing, but there is also universal respect for others, & grabbing someone, making catcalls, crimes all the time, the stares...there is no respect. It has definitely impacted my teaching & what I expect of my students. Yesterday they were disrespectful so I talked to the leaders in the group & made daily individual/class grades for being disrespectful to me & each other, so today was better in that respect.

Headed here this weekend to excape the scary> 
I just need to let my itchy legs get away, my poor mind needs room to roam, & then, hopefully, the classroom will seem less hostile without constant car alarms for a weekend. I am learning, though...this I know.