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Published: April 14th 2011
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Given our jobs teaching small children who speak a different language, we now cherish long weekends like they're pure gold. This past weekend, we got a four-day stretch, thanks to Cuenca Foundation Day. On April 12, 1557, explorer Gil Ramirez Davalos founded a Spanish settlement on the site of the destroyed Incan city of Tomebamba (likely inspiration for the legend of El Dorado). A mere 454 years later, we showed up.
Chris had missed school on Thursday and Friday due to the gripe (nasty cold and cough), but she rallied for Friday night's fundraiser event for The Asian-American School, our employer. Just like private schools all over the world, A.A.S. held a night for parents to socialize and, more importantly, raise funds (this time for new computers). For us, it was a chance to go to a true Ecuadorian party.
The invite, and descriptions from other teachers, said it was a black-and-white semi-formal event. This led to no small amount of consternation on our part. Justin spent Friday afternoon walking through the (now daily) rain, trying to find something appropriate to wear, knowing whatever he bought would probably only be worn once. He eventually settled on a white button-down
to put under his black fleece vest. Chris put on a gray sweater dress, and we headed out accepting of our underdressedness.
It didn't take us long to realize we were wrong. It wasn't that people were dressed poorly... it just wasn't what "black-and-white semi-formal fundraiser" would mean in the U.S. The standard attire for the women resembled Olivia Newton-John at the end of Grease... black hot pants, off-the-shoulder sweaters, and four-inch heels (although Chris was still taller in her jelly flats). The men were mostly in jeans and collared shirts, some with jackets. While black predominated, it certainly wasn't required. Everybody looked good, but it was just another sign that we haven't entirely grasped our new culture.
Another was an even more stark reminder that the Ecuadorian relationship to time is much different than what we're used to. The event was listed to begin at 8:30... we showed up slightly early with Mary and Francis, our bosses and the founders of A.A.S., to help set up. By the appointed time, we were at our appointed front door station, ready to hand out masks to guests, but at 9:30 there were still only a handful of people in
the room. At 10:30, people started to arrive, and by 11, it started to look like an event that people actually meant to show up at. After greeting 100 people or so with a kiss on the cheek regardless of whether we had any inkling of who they were, we were thankfully saved by Mary's family. We found a good spot for the masks at the doorway and joined them at their table. Maybe half the crowd had arrived, and were sitting patiently listening to a mix of soft rock hits (Air Supply, 4 Non-Blondes, James Blunt, Gilbert O'Sullivan) with the associated videos playing on a big screen. The most surprising thing? None of them had any drinks or food in front of them. Apparently, it isn't rude to be two to three hours late... however, it is rude to get a beer before everybody arrives. Thankfully, Mary's father Wilson broke the ice by buying a bottle of whiskey for the table to share and the crowd started to fill out.
The event had all the markings of an American fundraiser... there was a raffle (we won a KFC gift certificate), a band followed by a DJ, food, drinks
(although no beer... besides the whiskey, we survived on Zhumir Deco, a Zima-esque carbonated drink). Sticking to Latin American stereotypes, dancing was mandatory... the men as well as the women were all-in. There were traditional salsas, follow-the-leader line dances, an actual conga line, a surprising string of ska songs. Eventually the band went home, and was replaced by a DJ. We hung in until 1:30, and luckily found a cab home (with a video screen where we enjoyed G n' R's "Don't Cry" before being tortured by two Evanescence songs). It was probably a good thing we didn't push Chris' cold any further... Mary reported that they ended up staying past 4 A.M.
Our hearts are bigger than our heads, because the next morning we had to wake up at 9 to go down to the CoffeeTree to be interviewed by college students for a project. There had been a listing on GringoTree a few weeks previous that an American U. of Azuay prof was looking for Americans to be interviewed by her students about cultural differences. So we dragged ourselves down the street and each sat down with a student. Most of the questions had to do with
business practices, and while some were a bit hampered by translation ("Is time really money?", "What is your relationship to time?", "Do you like space") led to some philosophical answers from Justin, it was a good opportunity to talk to Ecuadorians.
Unsurprisingly, Chris felt her sickness coming back and decided to go back to bed. So Justin headed out that night with our good friends the Walkers (Dameon and Karen) and our Canadian music-loving compadre Jack... along the way, we picked up recent Quito transplant and Dameon co-worker Greg. All weekend, the city was dotted with music festivals, outdoor markets and food stalls, in celebration of the holiday. After a quick beer at the Inca, the group headed to the nearby Parque de la Madre to hear some music. Around the big stage was a line of stands selling grilled meat skewers (including delicious tripe or beef heart for $0.50) and canelazo (a hot spiced fruit drink spiked with aguardiente (sugar-cane liquor)... $2 for a refilled Zhumir flask). Listening to the Ecuadorian bands and getting slowly drunk, we bathed in the energy of the crowd. The headliner was Chilean panflute collective Altiplano, who did a killer version of the
Zhamir song from Kill Bill.
After the show ended, Justin heard some dance music in the distance, and the group happily followed him to go check it out. After following the river for a bit, we came across a dance party, a thousand or so people following a DJ set up underneath an ancient bridge that leads to nowhere. There was a purple tree, a pulsating beat, a gentle rain, a bit of herbal supplements thanks to Greg and the canelazo stands... it basically felt like the club Neo went to before he entered the Matrix. Justin felt a bit guilty telling Chris how great the night had been when he stumbled in in the early morning hours.
The next day, after cleaning up the remnants of Justin's late night fried-rice-cooking adventure, we took a walk to check out the rest of the holiday festivals. In addition to more canelazo and meat-on-a-stick, there were art exhibitions, handicrafts (the city was overrun with country folk looking to sell their handmade wares), more bands, fireworks, etc. We walked down the Rio Tombebamba from Parque de la Madre to the Jefferson Perez Colesium (named for Cuenca's greatest sports hero... the '96
Olympic gold medalist in speedwalking). After the last band ended there, we headed home for some much needed sleep.
On Monday, we were invited up to the apartment of our neighbor, the 80-something-year-old grandmother of Frances (our school-supplied apartment is in his family home... only Grandma remains as most of the rest of the family have moved to NYC). She's a very sweet woman, but our relationship with her has been hampered by the language barrier (especially with Justin). Knowing that we had the day off from work, she had made some coffee and tortillas (which are different from the Mexican version... they're thick cornmeal cakes with bits of cheese... very delicious). Although she scolded Justin for not putting enough milk in the concentrated coffee, she eventually forgave his weirdness. She also sweetly changed the TV channel to a German news program, thinking it was English for us, and had the good-humor to laugh when she realized her mistake.
We're now back into our routine... teaching today, Justin hosting trivia at the Inca last night, etc. But this weekend was a nice breakthrough for us, getting to see the Ecuadorian culture up-close, finding the language and cultural barriers are easing a bit.
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