In Which I Grow Old

Today, my little sister graduated college.  To celebrate this prestigious event, I have compiled a photographic homage to her, complete with words of wisdom she has shared with me over the past couple years through many an online chat and e-mail.  They are all DIRECT QUOTES.  Sunny, I can safely say that life wouldn't be the same without you.  (And yeah, I guess I'm glad I saved your life after you ate those wild mushrooms that one time.)

Here goes:

...

CONGRATULATIONS, SISTAH.

Sic 'em.

The Saga of Refrigerator

Because so many of you expressed interest in the story...

Part I: Fellowship of the Washer Ring

In early April, I notice that Refrigerator makes ominous groaning sounds at periodic intervals.

Gradually, the sounds become more frequent, lengthier, and occur at a higher pitch.

One night in the middle of watching A View to a Kill, Refrigerator will not shut up.

 

We unplug Refrigerator.

All perishables are relocated to the working fridge in the empty apartment upstairs.

Cristina and I remove various nuts, bolts, screws, and panels from Refrigerator.

Refrigerator refuses to cooperate.

Part Deux: Appliance-ocalypse Now

Peter Pan the Handyman attempts to fix Refrigerator.

Refrigerator refuses to cooperate.

Part The Third: Soyled Greens

Weeks pass.

The repairman and I are never on the same schedule.

The perishables languish and go bad in the refrigerator in the empty apartment upstairs because I am too lazy to walk up the stairs and consume them.

I subsist on a diet of noodles and canned tuna.

Refrigerator continues to display hostile behavior.

About once a week, I decide I can handle Refrigerator's moaning and groaning in the name of all that is popsicles and iced coffee.  I plug Refrigerator in and make the journey upstairs to retrieve a handful of perishable items.  Inevitably, within 10-12 hours, Refrigerator has me burying my head under a pillow or hitting my head against a wall.  Drastic measures must be taken: I unplug Refrigerator yet again--and sometimes, the perishables: they perish. 

You may have won the battle, Refrigerator, but not the War...

Part IV: A False Hope

Peter Pan the Handyman attempts to fix Refrigerator once more, employing Jedi mind tricks, a wrench, and a couple of plastic bottle caps.

Refrigerator gets worse.

REFRIGERATOR OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Part V: Appliance: Resurrection

And so it came to pass that in the fifth week, the Repairman issued a decree that all old refrigerator motors must be replaced by new motors, at a cost of approximately $10 USD.

Lo, the Repairman came bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and a new motor (minus the gold and frankincense).

There was duct tape, too.

And I saw that it was good.

AND NO THOSE ARE NOT THIN MINTS IN MY FREEZER WHY WOULD YOU SAY SUCH A THING?!?! THIS POST IS NOW OVER.

Part 6: Rise of the Machines coming soon to a theater near you!

On the Playlist: Ai Se Eu Te Pego!

This song is hot right now in Ecuador, and according to Wikipedia it's ranked number one in a bunch of European and Latin American countries, and also in Quebec, Canada.  (I'd like to think its popularity in Quebec is due to the influence of a number of Canadian volunteers who were living and working in Guayaquil until fairly recently -- Ecuanadians represent!)

Apparently this song's been around for awhile but really took off when Brazilian singer Michel Teló covered it.  I seem to have heard it on every city bus, at every party, and yes, at every gym class I've attended over the past two or three months.  And it's still going strong.  The funny thing is, the song is in Portuguese.  Nobody here understands the words, either because they don't realize it's in Portuguese or they don't speak Portuguese - or both - but anyway, they sing along.  People are crazy for this song.  It's easy to see why: it's upbeat, danceable, and I'm guessing it will make you want to sing along, too.  You don't speak Portuguese?  That's okay, just make it into a song about your favorite snack item.  Enjoy.

Paccha, El Oro

Mi amiga Whitni recently moved from a site on the coast where she ate a clove of raw garlic every few days to keep the mosquitoes away, where the kids protected the iguanas from the dogs by picking the iguanas up by their tails and slinging them into trees, and where she once danced carrying a pig's head in a basket, to a town in the Andean foothills, a town called Paccha.

She is very happy there.

I say this with confidence because I paid her a personal visit and brought Cristina along during her visit from the States, and we saw with our own four eyes just how great Paccha is.

The bus ride to get there was something of a trying experience.  What should have taken 3 buses and maybe 5 hours ended up taking 5 buses and about 9 hours.  That's what you get when you try to go anywhere mountain-y during the rainy season: landslides and blocked roads.  But the views the whole way up and roundabout were breathtaking.

We arrived in Paccha just at dusk, and this is what we found: 

Clouds, clouds, and more clouds.

This is what it looked like later in the evening:

Imagine our delight upon waking up the next morning and seeing our surroundings:

So we set off with Lucas the dog.

But not before studying the map that Jack, another PCV more familiar with these parts, had drawn us.  Landmarks included a house of ill repute; a shack; and an old people's home.

Merrily we wandered, and adventures we did have.

We encountered a large centipede or millipede. 

We encountered a landslide.  The mud, I observed, looks very much like Georgia red clay.  Over the course of our walk, we looked out over the hills and saw dozens of red gashes in the mountainside, some bigger than others.  These, Whitni informed us, were either landslides or the result of mining. 

Whitni will be the first to tell you that Paccha is perfect, "the Eden of Ecuador."  It's located in a temperate zone, in the midst of lush green mountains, surrounded by cloud forest--the clouds creep in at night, and when you look out over the valley it's as if the valley had disappeared and you were looking at the ocean instead.

Apparently, Paccha is Eden in more ways than one: it just so happens to be located in a province whose name translates to "The Gold."  (Or really just "gold," but "The Gold" sounds much more powerful and impressive.)  And there is gold to be found here.  In recent years, the mining industry - large foreign companies as well as smaller mines run by locals and individuals - has begun to make an impact on Paccha's economy and ecosystem. 

I won't get into the details here, as I'm no expert, but you can imagine that the advent of the mining industry here has had both positive and negative repercussions.  Think of the new wealth brought into the community; the wage competition local farmers now face; and, most visibly obvious, the effect mining has on the land.

Moving on...

We came across a chicken who bore a remarkable resemblance to...

...Donald Trump.

Paccha from afar.

By the time we made it back into town at the end of the day, our shoes and Lucas the dog were covered in mud (Lucas also being covered in cow poop and a number of other unidentifiable substances), and we were hungry.

DINNER: lentil stew and cauliflower.  Secret Ingredients: Old Bay, Jack's mom's herb salt (see photo below).  And, of course, Club Verde beer.

'Twas a good trip.  And hey, check it out:

New Mexico, March 2009

Ecuador, April 2012

...Some things never change.

Photos by Cristina

Some Important Announcements

(1) I wrote a scintillating post about ice cream this afternoon.  See it below.

(2) Today (now that it is midnight) is Cinco de Mayo.

(3) Cinco de Mayo isn't celebrated here in Ecuador.  Nonetheless, some friends and I will be celebrating it.  All day long celebrating it.

(4) Cinco de Mayo also happens to be exactly seven months to my new COS date.

(5) COS = Close of Service.  The Peace Corps, like the Army, is full of acronyms.  Because acronyms are fun.

(6) My new COS date is Cinco de Diciembre (December 5th).  I was supposed to leave in August, but I asked them pretty please could I stay a few more months?  And they said, Okay.

(7) I know what some of you are thinking.  Some of you are thinking, "You know what they say, Jordan - 'Too much of a good thing...'"

And to you I say, All things in moderation - including moderation.

Let the War of Adages begin. 

(8) The picture in the header above, which is a view of Guayaquil and the Guayas River, was taken by my friend Whitni Ciofalo.

(9) Peter Pan the Handyman tried to fix my fridge using bottle caps and a wrench, but it didn't take.  The Refrigerator of Doom just got more doomish.

(10) Happy Cinco de Mayo!

(11) Thank you for your continued support and tax dollars.

(12) Love & Guacamole,
        me

GYE en un minuto: ICE CREAM.

Truly, Guayaquil without ice cream would be like perpetual summer without summer vacation.  The heladeros - ice cream vendors - that roll their carts up and down the streets or stake out corners downtown are an integral part of city life here.  They quite literally add color and flavor.  And a respite from the heat.

Some of the flavors you will find on the streets of Guayaquil: coconut (so. good.), naranjilla, maracuyá, avocado (another one of my favorites), tree tomato, guava, pineapple, guanábana...to name but a paltry few.

Like the chuzo guy (see last month's post), the helado guy says he will continue selling helado for the rest of his life.  "It's something I like to do."