To Grandmother's House We...Go?

Sundays I usually spend with my host family. During the week, it is rare that they are all in the same place at the same time, so I try to take advantage of the one day we can all spend time together.

My host family is:
Luis & Mariana – the elderly couple who enjoy grilled cheese with their nighttime telenovela
Fernando & Sandra – daughter and son-in-law; always working; seemingly exist on no sleep whatsoever
Marcelo & Andrés – sons of Fernando and Sandra; 12 and 9 years old, respectively; you’ve met them already

This past Sunday, we had nothing planned – or so I thought. Turns out that, in typical fashion, I was just the out-of-the-loop gringa. I'm getting used to this, so when Fernando told me to hop in the truck, we were going to visit Abuelita, I obeyed.

If there is one thing I have learned here, it is to go with the flow, as (a) My Spanish is still not up to the point of understanding everything that’s going on, and (b) Plans tend to change at least thrice over the course of a social outing with my Ecuadorian family.

So, I hopped in the truck to “visit Abuelita.” We stopped to pick up some cousins and other relatives, and we were off.

About half an hour down the highway, well after I had begun to wonder exactly where we were going and just how far we’d have to drive to get there, and whether Marcelo would mind if I used him as a pillow, we arrived.

We unloaded ourselves from the car, and come to find out, Abuelita was already with us, having been one of the other relatives we picked up on the way – on the way to, not Abuelita’s house, but to a house owned by Fernando’s sister who lives in Italy. And it wasn’t a house, it was a condominium, and it wasn’t occupied, but it was unlocked, so we all went in to have a look around and traipsed up the stairs and then traipsed (or in Andrés’ case, fell) back down again and then drove the half hour back to Guayaquil to eat dinner at KFC.

Despite the fact that we ended up at an American fast-food chain, I still think of this as a very Ecuadorian outing.

In other news, I have been baking my way into my host family’s heart. Baking is not that common here, at least not in the home. There are a fair number of pastelerías, pastry shops, that offer everything from cornbread to iced cakes, but the limited acquaintance I have with Ecuadorian ovens leads me to conclude that they are generally used for storage space, not for cooking.

The first time I baked a cake, it was gone by the next day. The second time, Lupe, who normally cooks the meals around here and concocts such delicacies as shrimp ceviche with patacones (below), kept popping in and out of the kitchen to watch me measure flour, mix in sugar, and hack away at a bar of chocolate in my attempt to make chocolate chips.


[Above: Lupe's delectable sopa de verde with ceviche and patacones]

The second cake turned out okay, but it wasn’t as fluffy as it should have been, because nowhere, and I mean nowhere, could I find baking soda. Baking powder, yes; baking soda, I would have questioned whether it even exists in Ecuador had I not known for a fact that there is a word for it here: bicarbonato. I did a little research, and as it turns out, baking soda has been banned in Ecuador because it was somehow being used for criminal activity (or so the story goes) – which explains why, when my friend Hannah and I asked at the MegaMaxi (the one place that is likely to carry whatever grocery item you are looking for and can’t find anywhere else) if they carried baking soda, the response was, “No, not here! Not even for the President!” Apparently it is possible to buy baking soda in Ecuador, but only at a pharmacy, since it is treated as a controlled substance.


[Above: Marcelo and the Baking Soda-less Cake. We made up for the lack of height with frosting and crushed Oreos, which he greatly enjoyed smashing]

Apologies for all the food photos of late; it’s just that the food here is so, so yummy.

You all are probably wondering how I fill my days. It’s a bit hard to say, since I have been visiting various programs in the barrio and don’t have a set routine yet. Mostly, I have been working at after-school programs with kids, helping them with homework and playing educational games.

The Reader’s Digest version goes like this: Jordan gets up, fixes herself a bowl of oatmeal, and eats breakfast. Jordan takes the Metrovía to the barrio and sits in the community center, planning activities and drafting community interviews while her counterparts do paperwork, chitchat, and watch telenovelas (they are quite the multi-taskers). Jordan heads to the after-school program, where she eats lunch with the kids, helps them with their homework, and tries to convince them that her red hair and freckles are not “painted on.” Jordan catches the Metrovía home, where Andrés and Marcelo greet her: “Let’s play cards!” “Can you help me with my English homework?” Jordan eats dinner, showers, reads a bit, and goes to bed.

Speaking of which…bed is calling, and I am going to answer.

Next blog post: "Jordan’s Mysterious Rash," or, "Three Reasons Why You Should Maybe Not Go Swimming In That River."

Chao!