Usage guide: No pasa nada

No pasa nada

It's just three words. Ten letters.

But around here it is a philosophy.

In English, it best translates to "don't worry about it" or "nothing's going to happen."

It is typically said to allay fears in obviously dangerous situations or when something is clearly wrong but someone doesn't want to put the time into fixing it.

The best way to explain its correct usage is to give you a few case studies in proper "no pasa nada" application.

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The kids at the newspaper camp are going to do a ropes course at the local army base.

Kids: We are all going to fall, get hurt., and die.
Army soldiers: No pasa nada.

The army gave us 17 soldiers to manage the 35 kids on the obstacle course. There are no harnesses, all of the elements are at least two meters off the ground, and only four kids can be on the course at any time. So you meet the first condition for the presence of obvious danger.

The kids' safety depends on the soldiers being attentive as they pass through the elevated course and at least six soldiers need to pay attention for things to go well. This rarely happened. The soldiers had to remind the soldiers to focus on the kids. With this, you also meet the second condition for proper "no pasa nada" usage, people not wanting to put the energy into correcting the situation.

But the soldiers were right. No pasó nada. (Nothing happened)

---

I was walking with the kids from our newspaper day camp.

Kids: Ian, there are ants crawling out of your backpack.
Ian: No pasa nada.
Kids: (Laughing)

This was correctly applied. First, having the ants crawl in and out of my backpack had no effect on the kids. So clearly, nothing would happen to the kids.

Also, if the ants were crawling around my bag, it didn’t hurt anybody. These weren't the kind that bite.

Furthermore, the kids laughed, which means that they appreciated my attempts to integrate into society.

(This situation clearly reflects the need for me to clean out my backpack, as well.)

---

Saturday morning, I heard that there was an 8.8 magnitude earthquake off the Chilean coast. I didn't know whether or not we are at risk of a tsunami here because even though I don't live on the seashore, I am not that far away or that high above sea level. Nobody really knew what was going on.

Ian: There was a massive, massive earthquake off the Chilean coast. There might be tsunami waves that hit Ecuador.
Coworker: No pasa nada.

Incorrect usage. This was said in total seriousness. And well, after what happened in Asia a few years back and the strength of the Chilean earthquake, you can't just brush off tsunamis as no pasa nada. Luckily, the tsunami wave wasn't very bad after this quake.

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We are ready to go visit the bees during the beekeeping conference. I check my mask and realize that it isn't completely sealed.

Ian: Is this something I should be worried about?
Other volunteer: No pasa nada. You'll be fine.

We’re used to ignoring obvious danger.

I went to go get this checked out with the trainers. They said that my mask was faulty and that I needed to get a new one.

---

(This one was sent in from a fellow Peace Corps volunteer)

The kids at the school in town are outside for recess. Some kids start climbing on the soccer net. The school director, seeing possible danger in this situation, wants to put a stop to it.

School director: Get down from there before someone gets hurt.
Kids: (screaming back to the director) No pasa nada

And the kids continue climbing on the net.

This was well-applied. Notice how there is obvious danger. The kids are climbing on the nets and could fall down and get seriously hurt. But to allay the fears of the school director, the kids just told him that nothing will happen. That was all the director had to hear, and the kids continued playing.

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It's raining outside. I'm not home. I decide to walk home.

Ecuadorian: Ian, don't walk home in the rain. You will get the flu.
Ian: No pasa nada.

The common notion in Ecuador is that if you walk outside during the rain you will catch the flu. I don't believe this. So I walk anyway.

They were concerned, believing that I am walking into certain danger. I calm their fears and tell them that nothing will happen.

---

During last week's bull incident, I called my coworker, who was up the road, to tell her what was going on. Keep in mind there are 30 kids walking with me.

Ian: Look out there is an angry bull running down the street.
Coworker: No pasa nada.

Incorrect usage of no pasa nada.

It is important to know the limits of the "no pasa nada" because if you apply "no pasa nada" to a situation in which "si pasa algo" (something happens), that hampers your "no pasa nada" permanent record (and less importantly people might actually get hurt). The most important thing in these situations is correct usage. Safety takes a backseat.

In most situations that have a high probability of ending in people getting gored, no pasa nada shouldn’t apply.

---

I am walking through the eco reserve with my coworker. There is a tower that the military once used as a guard post when the reserve was an exclusively military zone. There are no obvious safety measures in place and the tower doesn't look to sturdy.

Ian: Are you sure you want to go up there?
Coworker: No pasa nada.

Brushing off obvious danger. An acceptable application.

---

Now the most important thing, as I mentioned, is proper usage. If you drop the phrase and something goes wrong, you're going to have to live with that guilt.

This blog post is meant to demonstrate proper application of "no pasa nada" into your life. It's not a black and white science. There is plenty of grey area.

Chocobananera

Bananera - the Spanish word for banana plantation.

My town is surrounded by them. The highway looks like it was just a strip of concrete laid in the middle of one of these. Machala, the provincial capital is known as the "Capital Bananera." On the road into Machala, there is a statue of a man carrying a racima (plant) of banana

Suffice it to say, the banana (and its cousin, the plantain) could be considered the corn to our Iowa. (Although I have never head the word "platnera" before to refer to a plantain plantation)

Just as equally ingrained in the local culture is the chocobanana - the frozen, chocolate-covered banana. Typically sold for ten cents, this is one of the most cost effective pick-me-ups. And for someone like me who prefers his chocolate mixed with some type of fruit, it is an ideal combination.

Now there, is a word for the chocolate-covered banana - chocobanana.

And there is a word for someone who works in a banana plantation - bananero.

But there is no word for the woman who sells the chocolate-covered bananas. I will change that.

I believe the proper term should be chocobananera.

I asked Google is this existed anywhere on the Internet. This is what it told me.



Slowly, I see this word making its way into the local idiolect. Most people with whom I have spoken with in the last couple weeks have heard me discuss this new word. But I'm still waiting for someone else to use the phrase without me prompting them.

This group of dedicated women (they are typically house moms who run a tienda out of their front room) do such a service to the community by providing this affordable goodness, that they deserve their own word.

Now we have one.

Please spread the word.

Is this Pamplona?

Earlier this afternoon, I was walking through town with about thirty kids from the newspaper daycamp we have going on.

The camp had just ended for the day and I'm walking toward the center of town. There are about ten kids ahead of me, ten next to me, and the rest behind. We are about five minutes from the central park when I heard some shrieking from the group ahead of me.

I look up to see the kids scattering in all directions.

Then, I look a little further up the road and see a bull charging our way. He's probably about a block from the first group of kids and a block and a half away from my group - and getting closer.

At this point, the kids are climbing trees, trucks, and walls to get out of the way. Before heading for shelter, I survey the situation a little to make sure that my kids are all right (What I would do if they weren't, I have no idea. There's a raging bull on the street. Handling this type of situation wasn't in the training manual. But as the supervisor, I felt like surveying the scene was the right thing to do.) I saw that no one had been gored and all the kids had scampered off to safety.

At this point, I kind of stared the bull down for a second to get a better sense of the situation (also, when else will I be able to stare down a raging bull). At this point, I had my escape route planned out: scurrying behind the truck parked on the side of the road. If the bull chose to follow me there, I would then defecate in my pants. Fool proof, I believe

In the second that I looked up the street to see what was happening, I noticed that a soldier from the nearby base had put a lasso around the bull's neck and was trying to pull him in. But instead, the bull was doing the majority of the pulling in this battle - dragging the soldier down the road. Then a police car arrived and began honking its horn at the commotion.

I then got behind the truck and saw that a bunch of my kids had the same idea (Good, this bull can't gore all of us, can he?).

I stood at the back of the truck with a view of the road to check if/when the bull would pass. A few seconds later, the bull came running down the street, dragging the soldier with him.

Once it was a safe distance past us, I checked to make sure everyone was all right. They were.

Then, we continued on our way.

I have learned to expect the unexpected throughout my Peace Corps experience, but an angry bull running through town - I don't think anyone could've predicted that.

No curling and no Costas make Ian maintain sanity

The Winter Olympics are going on.

You wouldn't know that if you lived in Arenillas.

Last week, I tried to explain curling to my friend and he said, "Oh, I get it. It's like hockey."

I was impressed that he knew about hockey. Most people here have trouble fathoming the idea of snow. So to have sports that require snow is very difficult.

Suffice it to say, the Ecuadorian networks don't devote all of their primetime coverage (or any of it, for that matter) to the Olympics). That would take away from the telenovelas. And I'm pretty sure there might be a massive uprising if that happened.

So life goes on. I've realized that.

In the States, I would be glued to the TV, watching every moment of cross country skiing that I could, complaining about how CBC doesn't carry the games anymore, analyzing every slalom run, etc. In short, I'd be obsessed.

In Arenillas, nothing's different.

Last night, the US beat Canada in hockey. Momentous. I tried watching it streaming over the internet. I had some initial luck with a Spanish-language stream (listening to hockey in Spanish is hilarious - el arquero está parando en su cabeza), but once that one went my Russian and Finnish streams didn't pan out so well. Hockey is a difficult sport to watch when the picture isn't clear.

So I decided to read about it in the morning. If I were in the States, there's no way I would have done that for that for the ski jump portion of the nordic combined, let alone US hockey's biggest game since the 2002 gold medal game.

But being here, missing the Olympics doesn't bother me. I've missed a season of Tigers baseball and Michigan football. And look, the sun still rises.

And the fact that I'm missing the country's once-every-four-years obsession with curling, that's another story altogether.

Can you please pass the cavity?

So I had shabbat dinner at my house last night.

It was outstanding - challah, mac and cheese, mashed sweet potatoes, steamed veggies, guacamole, aji (hot pepper sauce), and a mango-pineapple crisp.

It was probably one of the best meals I have cooked in my life (luckily, I made way too much food and will be able to enjoy that meal with several meals over the next couple of days).

With all of this delicious food, my guests needed a beverage to wash it down with. So they all chipped in and bought a big bottle of Coke.

Everybody poured their cup and started drinking except for one of my guests. This is where we pick up the action.

Guest: Do you have any sugar?
Ian: Yeah. Why?
Guest: I want to put some in my Coke.

After hearing this, I had no idea what to say. Stunned would be the proper way to describe my reaction as I got the sugar from my kitchen.

Keep in mind that Coke down here is made with real sugar.

I brought the sugar back, still completely baffled. Actually, it's a day later and I'm still trying to get over it.

She sweetened her Coke and continued with her meal.

Once I regained enough composure to inquire, I asked why she would put more sugar into her Coke. She explained that she did it to reduce the fizz. I did some Googling and learned that is a strategy some people use.

That's not a vegetable

So I spent this afternoon playing with the neighborhood kids. When we were finished playing, a mom invited me over for dinner.

Before she even starts cooking, I give my standard I'm a vegetarian explanation, that it's not that I hate the culture or the meat (I really like both), it's just that I can't eat the meat for a religious reason.

I was very clear to explain that I don't eat any kinds of meat, that includes chicken. She said that she understands. She says that she rarely eats meat, maybe once a month.

She said not to worry about it. She was making noodles and rice (carbo-loading is very common around here, a daily occurrence for most). But as I watch her throw the chicken in one of the pots, I remind her about me being vegetarian.

She reassures me that she understands.

Well, she serves the first plate to me. Chicken and rice.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Ian, you've lived in Ecuador long enough to expect this kind of thing.

At this point, I wasn't the least bit surprised.

Then, she gave a plate of rice and noodles to her rson, without chicken. She explained that he can't eat any meat.

Actually, I probably shouldn't be surprised. I have learned to expect the unexpected.

Bess! Bees in the car ! Bees everywhere!

Aside from walking into a beehive on a playground when I was three, the bulk of my exposure to bees was Tommy Boy.

I thought their only utility was scaring bee-allergic policemen away from arresting you.

That was until last week, when I attended a nearly comprehensive, week-long beekeeping workshop in Riobamba (I wouldn't say completely comprehensive because using bees to avoid arrests wasn't covered). It was a great experience, and something that I look forward to exploring further.

The first thing the facilitators told us was the there wasn't a big demand for honey in Ecuador. I thought that was an odd way to start a conference about bees. Maybe they were already involved in the bee market and they didn't want anybody taking their market share. Or maybe they were telling the truth and there was really no market for honey in Ecuador.

So what were we doing there?

Well, it turns out that aside from honey production, bees produce several other products for human consumption and might be some of the best regulators of the environment. And they are some of the most fascinating creatures.

The first two days were spent in a classroom setting, covering the basics of safety, materials, management, problem-solving, and various health benefits. But for me, the most interesting session was about the pollination.

Somewhere around 90% of plants in the area need to be pollinated (well, there are plenty of pollinators, but bees are among the principal ones). They are integral in pollinating the native species and in maintaining the quality of the agricultural products as well. By pollinating the plants, they improve the quality of plants,o seed production, adaptability to the environment, and many other things. So even if one isn't producing honey, there are benefits to your crops or flowers to having the bees buzzing around.


The next day was spent in the field, visiting the hives to put in practice what we had been lectured on the day before. They recommended that we wear light colored clothing because bees associate dark clothes with the hives and feel as if you are invading their space. I don't really have any dark-colored long sleeves, so I turned my rain jacket inside out. Although I was making quite the fashion statement with my flipped rain coat, my friend made an even bolder one - pink rubber gloves.





He didn't plan on wearing them. He had bought them for his counterpart but when we were getting ready, it became clear the pink ones were too small for the counterpart. Luckily the bees weren't of the opinion that pink is the new black and left him unstung.

Overall, it was a relatively unpainful experience for the entire group. Just two people out of thirty were stung - even though the facilitators told us the bees were especially agitated.

After out practice, we learned about the various products that one can market. Bees produce a substance called propolisis that they put around their hive to prevent other animals from getting in. This substance can be used by humans to treat burns, increase fertility, might combat cancer, act as an antibiotic, ease bowel issues, cure some STDs, and protect your liver.

Another substance that the bees produce that can marketed is the royal jelly, what is used to feed queen bee larvae. It is believed to slow aging-related conditions (arthritis, baldness, decreased libido, heart disease, menopause, osteoporosis, high cholestorol, etc).

I felt that the conference gave me a great overview of beehive management. Now, I am excited to put it in practice and start some of that stuff at my site. I know of a few people near here who already have the hives going and will try to visit them very soon.

Las bestias

I showed up to a community meeting a few months ago and realized it would be a while before they would be ready to begin the meeting. I noticed that the kids outside were playing stickball. So my attention was obviously attracted to that.

It's not really stickball. It's more like piece-of-a-2-by-4 and a beaten up mini soccer ball.

I break the ice with a few questions, and I'm in the batters circle before I know it.

Hitting is not the strongest part of my stickball game. I don't know if I have registered a legitimate, round-first-base single in my last decade of playing softball. Combining that with a lack of great foot speed, and well you have an offensive liability.

So as the pitcher stares me down and gets his sign from the pitcher, my expectations are relatively low. The kids on the other look at me like I'm Babe Ruth, forget the fact that they have never heard of Babe Ruth before. Jaws are dropped. Eyes are wide open.

The first pitch I hit a grounder down what would be the third base line. The kids were very impressed, but I felt I could do better.

The next pitch was a bit low. I take a good cut at it but manage to hit a grounder down what would be the first base line.

The third pitch comes. I take a big swing and crush a fly ball to centerfield. The contact felt so good and pure. The ball sails over the street and into someone's yard. The kids start applauding, and I'm start asking the kids if we should go get the ball. They continued to applaud.

I was really surprised how little effort they were making at getting this ball back. It was as if they had already decided that this ball was gone. They would just have to wait for another day.

After this carried on for a few minutes, I ask why we can't get the ball. They say it's gone forever. Angry pigs live in the yard that I hit the ball into. Nobody goes in there and comes out unscathed. Plus, the pigs' owner isn't really nice. So that ball was gone.

I apologized profusely about losing their ball, and the kids said it didn't matter. That was the best hit they'd ever seen. I still felt horrible about it. I wondered if there was a way we could get that ball back.

I asked some people in my meeting. They confirmed that the pigs weren't supposed to be messed with, neither was their owner. Visions of the biggest pickle any of us had ever seen flashed through my head. But I realized that the ball was gone - plus it wasn't signed by The Babe. So it's much more replaceable.

And instead of just one beast that Henry Rodriguez had to outrun, this is an entire yard of angry pigs.

Rain delay

Last week, I presented the idea of a community bank to a neighborhood association in town.

About 35 people said they were interested and planned on attending the next meeting.

I showed up at the meeting on time and waited a half hour.

No one showed.

It had been steadily raining all day. And even though most of the participants live within a block of where the meeting was going to held, not a single person came by.

After waiting for a half-hour, I went to the president of the community to see what was going on. He said everyone in the area was excited about the meeting, but that no one will leave their house in the rain.

The popular notion around these parts is that if you go out in the rain, even for the shortest amount of time, you will come down with the flu.

We rescheduled for the next Saturday. Hopefully, it doesn't rain.

The streets aren't safe

Be careful where you walk

Every time you leave your house, you have to be aware of your surroundings.

Keep an eye on every balcony. Carefully approach each corner.

Because lurking in the shadows is ...... a kid with a water balloon, ready to soak any unsuspecting passerby.

For the last few weeks, my town has been in a state of water war. As the country prepares for the Carnaval fiestas, the kids are gearing up for their favorite holiday tradition. Ecuadorian youth have been saving up their water balloon, silly string, water gun, and egg budgets for months.

The pre-Carnaval rush first caught my attention during the second week of January. I was selling newspaper ads with an eight-year old on our staff. We were leaving his house and walking toward the center, but as we left his front door he said we should go the other direction. This made no sense to me because center was not in that direction. But we walked a few houses down the street and he pulled a bag of water balloon from underneath a piece of heavy machinery. He's not allowed to keep them in the house, so he has to hide them.

Then, as we were walking through town, he pulled a balloon out of the bag and started filling it up on a spicket. He said that he would spend the next month throwing water balloons at girls. I told him that while we are selling ads out focus should be on the ads and that throwing the water balloons at girls could wait until afterwards. He actually contained himself really well until we were a block from his house. He had a balloon in his right hand and saw his neighbor walking down the street. He chose for the stealth approach and splashing it on her back (a preferred strategy in his neighborhood, but you don't see it to often in the center).

In the three weeks that have passed, the water war has only intensified. Kids have been gathering all the loose change they can find to buy necessary armaments.

In our newspaper meeting last week, the girls looked like they were afraid of one of our other staff members. I asked them what the problem was and they told me that he throws eggs at them. At first, I thought that was ridiculous but that was naiveté.

It turns out that our staff member is also a member of an egg-throwing club from one of the neighborhoods in town. They operate one month out of the year and create panic among all the 11-15 year old girls in town.

Yesterday afternoon, more than a week before Carnaval, I was walking through town and it felt like a scene from The Hurt Locker. There was an eerie silence, as if your assailant could be lurking behind any door. Then, you hear a high-pitched scream and realize that two boys on a balcony had dropped a bucket of water on two unsuspecting girls walking below.

As the holiday actually approaches, the kids will continue with the water war but will also mix in some flour with the water attacks to leave a lasting impression. I went to my store yesterday to by flour to make challah and the woman told me that I should stock up on my flour before Carnaval hits and I won´t be able to find it anywhere.

AREvista (Third Edition)

The third edition of AREvista has hit the streets of Arenillas this week. For those that can´t get their own copy, we have a digital copy for you to enjoy.

If the photo link doesn´t work, you can find a copy here.


(Editor's note: Due to technical issues, some of the fonts might be modified.)

New fruits

So I saw this fruit in the market the other day.

It looks like the zapote (damn, you probably don't know what that is either).

Anyway, it's called mamey and it's delicious.

You need a knife to cut through the skin and a tube of toothpaste nearby when pictures are taken. Mamey has a pretty big pit, but everything between the pit and the rind is edible. Its flavor reminds me of apricot.

Things crawling on my bathroom door

It's been around for a few days now, long enough that I can start thinking of names. Any ideas?

Either way, I don´t know if it's male or female.

---

I took this picture early in the morning. I walked to the bathroom to poop and saw this frog on the door. I went back for the camera and snapped the above image.

So what happened after?

I had to poop, but there was a frog on the door. I know that it's a frog and that it doesn`t care what I'm doing. But it's uncomfortable for me.

So I went back for my broom to poke him off the door. The thing about the frog is that he was really stuck to the door. So it took some prying before getting him on his way.

I ran into the frog a few days later. This time, I didn't even realize it was the frog until I had already stepped on him/her.

You see, I was walking in the dark between my kitchen and my living room. I saw something roundish on the ground, maybe a piece of garbage. Who knows?

So I stepped on it. As I was stepping down onto it, I realized this wasn't plastic or an insect. Plus, the frog realized the danger it was in as soon as my foot weighed down on him/her. It scampered off.

Then, last Friday night, I had some friends over for dinner and had briefed them about the frog situation. It's not that abnormal for volunteers to talk about their encounters with animals. Actually, it's pretty common. Some talked about run-ins with snakes, angry dogs, etc.

One of my volunteer friends stood up to go to the bathroom and discovered the frog on the wall. When the volunteer went back to poke the frog, it took some preemptive action and pooped on the volunteer's hand.

The most disappointing thing in all of this is that s/he never once ribbitted. (sp?)

Maybe it's mute.

How do you say Roswell in Spanish?

Last week, an interesting story appeared in a local newspaper, "Diario Correo". They typically put all of their stories on their website, but this one must have slipped by the online staff.

¡Que lastima! (What a shande)

I`ll paraphrase for you.

For tomorrow, 20 January 2010, Kill, the alien son of the Yaguana Granda family, is planning to arrive on planet Earth, according to José, who on the night of 7 January 1996 lent his wife's womb to be impregnated by four aliens on the banks of the river.

Prior knowledge

Last 24 November 2009, José told this newspaper in an exclusive interview that 13 years after his encounter with Laxti, Nortu and Sasqui, they had promised to bring his son back 20 January 2009.

The family said that their last contact with the aliens was 3 October 2008 at the same spot where the aliens had abducted his wife.

Yesterday, José said that you have to let what happens happen and that the date might be off because the aliens don't operate on the same calendar system that we do on Earth.

Place

Yaguana still insists upon the exact date and place of the encounter and that he and his wife are preparing for it. In the last three weeks, they have gone back to the place where she was impregnated to prepare themselves and receive energy from the rocks there.

He said he's not joking around and isn't doing this just to gain attention. What he wants is to create a consciousness among intelligent people about the reality in which we are living.

Thirteen years

The parents are happy for the appearance of their son and to receive new messages and assignments from Laxti, Nortu and Sasqui. José always refers to those three as brothers.

Fourteen years have passed since the encounter, ten minutes outside of town. The aliens come form the planet Ecton: Laxti (capt.), Norku (Co-pilot, notice different spelling of name from before) and Sasqui (second co-pilot). Thirteen years ago they took José's wife up into their flying saucer and using a complicated method, impregnated her.

There is a bit more, but I think you get the idea. I know that a few days have passed since the encounter was supposed to take place, but I haven´t heard anything.

A few years ago the dude took a lie detector test and passed. Accordingly, everyone in town believes him.

I think of myself as doing the same thing as José, telling other intelligent people about the reality that we live in (sarcasm). I'll keep you guys posted if I hear anything new. And if something does happen, I see a lot of tourist potential.

It`s kind of like the Wells Fargo Wagon

(If you haven`t voted yet, please help me choose the next book I read by participating in the poll on the right column)



So the MagicSex truck came into the market this morning.

The MagicSex truck is an herbal supplement megastore on wheels that passes through my town every few months. And when it swings by, you would think they are giving it away.

Now, from my experience, Ecuadorians are very susceptible to purchasing from the guy selling nutritional supplements. You see this on the bus, on the street, door-to-door, wherever. Heck, some dude came into our office one day trying to get us to buy some supplement.

But the MagicSex mobile is a different breed. Maybe it's the green and yellow paint job, maybe it's the insane collection of herbal remedies in the trunk, maybe it's the two-megaphone sound system. [Aside: I will attach a megaphone to my car when I get back to the U.S.] Anyway, whatever it is, it is ridiculous. Plus, MagicSex doesn`t just sell MagicSex products.

They carry a full line of supplements that will improve, prevent, or cure any condition imaginable. I contend they probably make up conditions just to scare their potential customers into becoming their customers.

Lesson learned: If you want to get people to come to your program, give them ridiculous names, as well. Then people might go by accident, expecting something completely different, and realize that whatever they accidentally attended is worth their time. Either way, they'd probably still be disappointed.

Choose Ian`s Adventure

I have amassed quite the library in my house and need a little guidance about what book to read next. Help me out by voting in the poll on the right column (For those reading this RSS style, go to the website to vote).

Vote or die.

Fresh milk

When walking through downtown Guayaquil, one might think they are in any large Latin American city.

You have the big government buildings, museums, large markets, crosswalks, clean parks.

You might actually start thinking that you are in a more developed country.

Then you turn a corner and see a guy walking two goats through the city center.

But he`s not just walking the goats to give them exercise. He is an entreprenuer.

You see, in one hand he carries the goats` leash. In the other, he has a sleeve of shot glasses.

He stopped in front of a store, put the cups under the goat`s udder, and poured a glass of milk. Then, he walked toward the store and sold the fresh goat milk to the shopkeeper.

And then he continued on his way.

I was in a cab when I saw this scene play out, so I wasn`t able to ask the vendor follow-up questions or order my own glass. Plus, I was in Guayaquil, so I didn`t have my camera handy. But you can imagine the outstanding ridiculousness of the moment.

School`s out for summer?

On the first day of school in the States, I guarantee that the majority of students could tell you when the school year ends. (or give a pretty accurate guess within two days)

In Ecuador it´s a different story.

When I left for my two-week vacation, I asked people in town when classes end.

``January or February``

Now keep in mind, I asked this is at the end of December.

So I came back from my vacation in the first days of January and saw kids in the street in the middle of the day. I wondered why the kids weren`t in school if school didn`t end until some time near the end of the month.

Well, it turns out that classes are already over. The kids are just finishing up their final exams.

In some high schools, they actually finished classes before the new year.

But I can`t really blame the kids on this one. I think the education system is at fault.

I don`t know how far in advance they plan the school year or how much notice they give to the kids. Two days before records day, the kids don`t know that they have the day off.

I`m not complaining about this. It was just very funny to come back from my trip and expect to have another month to work with my students only to find out that they are done with classes until April.

Blog back from vacation

In Ecuador, they don`t celebrate new years. They celebrate the old year.

In fact, they don`t even call it año nuevo. Instead, they go with año viejo (literally ``old year``).

They burn relics from the old year as soon as the clock strikes midnight. I wasn`t here for it, but everybody says that it is pretty ridiculous.

That`s an aside.

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Hearyoni has retured reenergized and readjusted from its vacation.

I apologize that all visitors to my blog have had to look at dengue-suffering Ian for the last three weeks. That is one of the worst Ians.

A combination of a vacation, limited internet access, time with my family, trying to readjust to being in Ecuador, and mango in my computer have prevented me from updating.

Until now.

So where have I been?

Well, after eight months at my site, I finally took my first vacation days and met my family in Costa Rica. It was awesome. We had a great time, and I should probably provide a more thorough recap of the trip but the mango in my computer has put that machine temporarily out of service. (Lesson learned: don`t eat mango by your computer)

Since I have to pay for all my computer time now, I don`t want to use all that time for an all-out vacation recap. Suffice it to say, it was a great time in Costa Rica.

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So there is an island off the Ecuadorian coast called Isla Costa Rica. It is a very small island with a lot of fishing industry.

When I told some of the kids here that I spent two weeks in Costa Rica, they wondered why someone would go to Costa Rica for two weeks. I then explained that I was in a different Costa Rica, and that there are several reasons to go to the country Costa Rica.

I got back on Sunday night and hit the ground running this week. It has been a very productive week. The kids have been working hard on the next newspaper edition, and I have spent most of the week coordinating their activities.

I promise to be back on the blog soon.

A januca to remember

On the first night of januca, I had planned a holiday party to share the tradition with people in my town. Unfortunately, I had to let all my friends know that instead of a januca party, I would be having dengue.

In this picture, dengue is winning.



But in the course of the next eight days, I made quite the recovery. So much so that I was frying latkes for the eighth night.