Great fruit name

There are two kinds of guaba fruit that are common by me.

One of them is called vine guaba because the pits and fruit grow in a something that looks like a vine.

The other kind is called machete.

While the fruit is difficult to open, the name derives from its shape rather than the tool needed to open it.

It is a pretty decent fruit. The edible portion is gummy, and the pit looks like a cockroach.

A head scratcher

No, I don't have lice. Well, not yet at least.

Many times in Ecuadorian society, I have found myself speechless in response to certain actions or comments.

I had one of those yesterday in my living room.

I had some of the kids from the newspaper over to my house to celebrate the launch of their second edition.

By "celebrate the launch," I also mean "fold" because our newspapers don't come pre-folded. Part of the festivities involved baking oatmeal raising cookies and the other part involved folding 1500 copies of the newspaper. But since the folding takes more than the half hour it takes to make the cookies, one must provide some snacks throughout the afternoon.

I got them some plums and chocolate-covered bananas. They were delicious. Then, they finished eating and faced the question: what should I do with my garbage?

(Prepare to scratch your head)

There are a few options they could have opted for here.

• One would have been taking their waste and putting in the garbage bag in my kitchen.
• Another could have been throwing the pits into my neighbor's chicken yard.
• Another would have been to put the organic waste in the compost pile.
• Another would have been wrapping the garbage in a some newspaper paper and lighting it on fire.
• One more would be to take the pits and sticks and throw them on my floor.

There are probably a few other things they could have done with their waste, but these are the primary options that I can think of.

What do you think they chose to do?

Well, if you chose "turn my living room into a landfill," then you should get some sort of prize.

They just decided to drop their waste on my floor, which meant that the neighborhood ants and cockroaches were attracted by the fresh food and made for a horrible situation.

(Scratch your head and think)

AREvista (Segunda Ediciòn)

So when the kids made their first newspaper last month, they didn`t really understand what it would take to put together a monthly newsletter.

A lot of people even doubted that they could turn around and put together a new edition within a month.

Well they did.

You can find the next edition of the newspaper by clicking here.

The Interns

In Ecuador, high school seniors have to complete an internship to graduate. They do it to get a real-life experience.

Last week, two interns showed up in our office with 520 hours of service to complete.

In my time at the municipality, I have seen a few of these interns come and go. And the majority of their work has been, how do I say this correctly, the bitch work that the people in the offices have to get done but don't want to do. They have to organize filing cabinets, staple receipts, clean cabinets, etc.

But as soon as I saw the youth in my office, my mind flashed to a Seinfeld episode.

(Kramer just finished explaining an idea for a restaurant above the Chrysler Building)
Kramer: Of course it's a good idea. I conceived this whole project two years ago
....
Kramer: You see, I come up with these things. I know they're gold, but nothing happens. Do you know why?
....
Kramer: No time. It's all these menial tasks. Laundry, grocery shopping, coming in here and talking to you. Do you have any idea how much time I waste in this apartment?
Jerry: I could ballpark it.
(Elaine enters)
Kramer: Here you go. Now, she comes in. My whole day is shot.

Now, we just have to shift the scene from Kramer's world into my world in Ecuador (both ridiculous worlds, just in different ways). There are so many projects that I want to get started or maintain, but there is so little time (only 24 hours in the day, and I have to spend part of that time eating fruit).

How can I possibly get all that I want to get accomplished if I only have 24 hours in the day?

Simply put, I can't.

Enter the two interns.

Hi, this is Darren from Mr. Kramer's offices. Mr. Kramer would like to schedule a lunch with you at Monk's Coffee Shop.

Just like NYU was enthusiastic about its kids getting some real-world experience in the case of Darren at Kramerica Industries, the local high school has similarly high hopes. So they have placed two students in my office.

OK, so Señor Robinson won't be using the interns to schedule his almuerzos, but they can get some great experience in some of our other projects.

In one week in our office, they have written a few articles for the newspaper, assisted with the design, learned the importance of saving your documents (especially when there is ever-present risk of power blackouts), and developed sales experience.

Next week, I see them helping launch a recycling program, assisting in newspaper distribution, and working in the nursery.

I don't foresee the interns doing the glamorous work that Darren did at Kramerica, like laundry, mending chicken wire, or having high tea with a Señor Newman. But I still see this as a productive experience for them.

Only about 950 hours of cumulative intern time left...

A Traditional Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving just isn't what it used to be: Lions football, shopping, drinking, movies, family.

That is not what the holiday is about.

In my understanding of Thanksgiving, the pilgrims killed turkeys and cooked pumpkin pie with the native Americans at Plymouth Rock as a goodwill gesture, a cultural exchange.

So in my first Thanksgiving outside of the States, I decided to hearken back to the holiday's roots. I could have gone up to Quito and eaten a traditional Thanksgiving, with the Lions losing in the background, and a movie in the afternoon. But, as I said, I wanted an even more traditional Thanksgiving.

So ... seventeen volunteers from my training group converged on a small jungle town south of Macas for a campo Thanksgiving.

My friend's original plan was to raise turkeys himself and then kill them. But he didn't quite plan far enough ahead. Fortunately, his neighbor had turkeys. Unfortunately, I didn't get into town in time for the slaughter. Rumor has it that it was what you would expect. There was no certified shokhet in town, so I did not partake in the turkey consumption.

But seeing as I don't really come from a big turkey-eating family, I didn't really feel left out. You see, my mom is a vegetarian and the rest of my family was never really into turkey. So instead of an actual turkey on Thanksgiving, we eat pizza in the shape of a turkey. I was going to make this for my friends but realized the ridiculous quantity of food that was going to be served and decided that pizza can wait.

I rolled into town at 5:45 AM on Thursday and almost immediately started to help in the kitchen. Special thanks to: my mom for shipping me a pie crust and pie filling and Ecuadorian Customs for not giving me a hard time.

Throughout the morning, we continued cooking as volunteers slowly filtered into town. By noon, the entire crew had amassed, and we headed off to a tourist complex for the meal. There was still quite a bit of prep work to be done, so the afternoon was passed by the grill. By about 5:00 PM everything was ready. I could describe it or just show you the images.



And in the spirit of the first Thanksgiving, we shared the event with some Ecuadorians in the cultural exchange that Peace Corps promotes. It was a great opportunity to let them participate in one of our country's great traditions: the food coma.

We went around the table, explaining what we were thankful for on this Thanksgiving. The common theme was being thankful for the opportunity and experience that we have and that we should think about this every day, not just on Thanksgiving. People were also thankful for their families (Peace Corps and actual).

By about 8:00, I was out.

The next day, we visited a Shuar community near the town. The Shuar are an indiginous group that lives in the Ecuadorian jungle. You might have heard of them from head-shrinking fame. After taking a stroll through the woods with some members from the tribe, we sat down to a traditional Shuar lunch — chicha (some type of fermented beverage that is very common in the sierra and jungle), meat-of-what-used-to-be-a-furry-animal, yucca, and tea.

Then after lunch, some of the kids from the community put on a little dance number. It felt uncomfortably touristy and Peace Corps volunteers don't really like to feel that touristy.



But whatever.

It was a Thanksgiving story with Native Americans — just like at Plymouth Rock.

After another day of hanging out in the jungle, I hauled overnight back to my site to start my traditional post-Thanksgiving diet of six mangos per day.

Please aim away

Is it too much to ask that I can walk down the street without getting peed on?

All I want to do is be able to pass through town without the risk of someone urinating on me.

But around here, apparently, that is too much to ask.

Like most places in the developing world, the sewage system in my town isn't always reliable. Sometimes there is no water. Sometimes you can't find a reliable public toilet.

So if you have to go and you don't have anywhere to go, you should just cozy up to a wall, out of sight, and write your name.

That would make sense, right?

That's not the way kids are taught in my town.

Two days ago, I was walking down the main street in town. I looked to my left and saw a kid, with his pants down, aiming toward the street. I looked behind the child and saw that his mom was holding her son in place so that he pees into the street

She was helping him aim and giving him guidance on where he should point his stream. Unfortunately, that stream was on my intended walking path. I got out of the way, but this isn't the first time I have come across such a situation.

I shouldn't have to watch out for people peeing in the streets or on the sidewalks.

I don't exactly know the specific health risks of living in an open-air septic pit, but they do exist. I just know that there are no public health benefits to having urine in the street.

That is why I have decided to start the "Aim Away" campaign in which we will teach parents and youth the benefits of pointing away from the street.

Even though the kids are committing the act, the mentality that it is acceptable to pee in the middle of the street starts with the parents. That is why we will hold workshops, some that might even last several days, to show people how and where to pee.

I understand the convenience of peeing in public. What I don't understand is why they teach their kids to do it in the middle of the street when it takes three seconds to turn around, go to the wall, and do it there. And I guarantee they have three seconds to spare because, in this society, someone is considered on time even if they are half an hour late.

Really, all I want is to be able to walk down the street without having to worry about a urine stream or splash getting on my pants or shoes.

---

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving.

Se llama kugel

As I have mentioned in my previous posts, I have high expectations for the world of kugel in global development.

Here is my first bit of proof.

Taking my example and recipe, one of my friends in town made her first kugel.

It was based on the pecan noodle kugel with a banana twist. It had received rave reviews at the previous three shabbat dinners at my home and the locals wanted to try their hand at the kugel craft.

I did not know when she planned on making the kugel. All I know is that she was planning on making one. So I walk into her house and her three-year-old son is eating kugel at the kitchen table.

Ian: Hola Pierro.
Pierro: Hola Ian.
Ian: What are you eating?
Pierro: Se llama kugel. (It's called kugel)

Top six greatest moments of my life, being taught by an Ecuadorian toddler how to pronounce kugel.

Two great kugel-related posts in three days.

Well, aren't you lucky?

Yes, you are.

I doubt that it will be three in four days. But if the kugel revolution takes off as planned ... you might just get your wish.