Last licks

My time in Tolte may or may not be entering its final phase. It may be, because I have two weeks left on my "contract," and I'll soon be heading back to the U.S. But it may not be, because Carolina has found the funds to keep me here another year, teaching English, digging in the dirt, playing the guitar, and drinking trago when the situation requires it. The only remaining question is whether any of the jobs I applied for come through. My best chance for an actual professional position is in northern Ecuador. I have been told that my application is being reviewed. We'll have to wait and see what they think. Considering that I am already doing the work of that job, it would be a bit humiliating not to get it, but to be a do-gooder foreign volunteer is to put humiliation aside forever.

Far from humiliating, this week has been uplifting. First of all, I have finally built my first bench terrace in Tolte, and have been promised the chance to build more on the same piece of land. The enterprising farmer in this case was my housemate Jose, who is a member of the granjas integrales group. I think his major motivation for doing this work is that he thinks it will appeal to tourists, and it might. Terracing is a farming technique that was known to both the Incas and the Canaris (there's a tilde over that n, but I can't get my computer to produce it), so no one has to know that it was reintroduced by a gringo. Considering that I haven't done work like this in over 20 years, I think we did a very fine job. Jose seems quite happy with it, wants to build more, and believes that his neighbors will follow suit. And here's a picture of Jose doing the work (I did some too, but you'll have to take my word for it), and another of our completed project. Actually, we did a bit more, sectioning the terrace into boxes for easier irrigation, but this is a better picture.

I think the main thing about this project in my own mind is that I have wanted to do work like this since I left Costa Rica, and saw the need for the work here. It took my entire stay here to build the first one. If I come back, I'll be able to do more, and possibly advance to other soil and water conservation work. I can't say that I have much experience of setting out to do something and getting it done. I'm not a "closer," as they say in the world of salesmanship. I think I have had my fair share of decent ideas, but never quite had the technique or the nerve to bring them to completion. Although I built bench terraces in Costa Rica, the technique was already popular with the farmers I worked with. I was only offering a refinement, and my own labor. Here in Tolte, no has a terraced farm. I am quite proud of myself for keeping at this idea until someone got involved with it. Of course, now we see why the Peace Corps is a two year job. I would really need a second year to get the idea to take off. And, as I said before, maybe I'll have one.

Other excitement has been provided by the hilarious Banda de Miercoles, more properly known as Estasis, the rock band of Tolte. I have been recruited as music teacher and lead guitarist. We had our first performance Thursday night at the high school in Chunchi, where there was a kind of massive fund-raiser talent contest. We did not participate in the contest, I'm glad to say, although I think it would have been interesting to try to win a talent contest without any talent. After all, anyone can win a talent contest if they have talent. Winning without any, well, that's a real challenge.

We also almost had to appear without a drummer, which would have been ridiculous (or miercoles, depending on your point of view). The boys had the idea that there were going to be lots of bands, and that there would be the opportunity to share a drum set. So we showed up with two guitars, a bass, three cables, and two drumsticks, only to find that we were the only band and the colegio doesn't have a drum kit. After some uncertainty, we got Mecias to bring us back to Tolte, where we picked up the drumkit and went back to Chunchi again. The weather was surprisingly cold, and Mario, Freddy, and I hung out in Mecias van trying not to freeze before we had to perform. Much faster than I expected (maybe in deference to my advanced age, but possibly as a result of some weird scheduling confusion), we were onstage in front of about 500 kids and their parents. We performed two songs, "A Mi Lindo Ecuador," which is sort of folk-song-like, and "Musica Ligera," a basic four-by-four rocker by a band from Argentina. Yes, there's a whole world of rock en espanol, and it's really pretty good. Or it would be if a band other than our were playing it. Our most obvious deficiency is vocals, but we also have a bassist who doesn't know how to play his instrument, a drummer who routinely drops beats, and a lead guitarist who is as old as the rest of the band put together--okay, so that last is a bit of an exaggeration, but not as much as I could wish. But I did pull off a pretty good solo on "Musica Ligera," and no one actually left the scene with bleeding eardrums, so I think we're getting better.

We got to play those two songs and three more yesterday night at the evening portion of the Fiesta de Parroquializacion de Tolte, which turned out to be a pretty cool all day party. For me, it was a big day of music. I also sang the famous "Today is Monday" song that I used (at the suggestion of Ms. CZ of Brooklyn) to teach the kids the days of the week. I have taught them a couple of other songs since, but nothing has quite caught on like "Today is Monday." So all 45 of my students sang "Today is Monday" as part of the morning program. I had played a couple of songs earlier with Juan Vicente's band, which I now know is called Winari (there's a tilde over that n, too), which means "growth" in Kichwa. The first one went a little rough--we couldn't hear ourselves or each other through the sound equipment, which is fairly lethal for any band. This was particularly frustrating as we had spent three and a half hours rehearsing it in the morning. The second song went a lot better. I once spent about five hours rehearsing that one, but the presence of a drummer who could actually keep a steady beat made a huge difference there.

During the afternoon, there was a small "indor" championship, starting with the 9 and 10 year olds of Tolte giving a royal drubbing to a group of 9 and 10 year olds from the school where our sixth and seventh grade teacher used to work. There were several games of women's teams, which make up for whatever skills they may lack with plenty of aggression. One of those teams calls itself "Las Mamis," which has had everyone in Tolte laughing for weeks, but I sure wouldn't mock them face to face. There were also men's games, the last of which produced the traditional Tolte fiesta fistfight, which was broken up quickly with no injuries.

And then it was countdown to Estasis, which produced the usual comedy of errors. The cable I borrowed from Juan Vicente, which worked fine in the morning, stopped working during our evening rehearsal. I was lucky to get another one. Our bassist finally showed up, and I spent most of the rehearsal time teaching him a line for "Un Par de Palabras," rock en espanol from Spain. Needless to say, his bass stopped working when we got on stage. We had already told him that his main job was to "hacer lampara," (pretend to be doing something when you're really doing nothing, an honored rock tradition), but we didn't know he would have to take it to such an extreme. He turned out to be really good at it, and we have put him in charge of all of our lampara needs. Our vocalist had even more trouble than usual hitting the high notes (or the right notes). But the guitars and drum were reasonably tight, and they let me spin out a nice long solo on "Musica Ligera." I'm not sure how I am suddenly able to create a convincing rock guitar solo, but I suspect it has something to do with the idea that no one know what a rock guitar solo should sound like. I never experience the slightest nervousness when I play with Estasis, although it was the bane of my existence when I played flamenco concerts. I guess I'm learning something from the Estasis experience, too.

In other comic events, the hot water has stopped working in our house. The temperature of the water that comes out of the tap is probably similar to the air temperature in the morning, about 50 degrees. I hope the people of Tolte appreciate my cleanliness, given how much a hate cold water. But I suppose this gives me a chance to feel that I'm living the Andes experience. After all, until about ten years ago no one here bathed in hot water. Jose claims to prefer it, in fact. I honestly can't embrace this opinion, but I don't think the cold water will kill me. And it doesn't change at all how much I do love living here.