Revenge of the Guinea Pig

Well, the cleansing effects of Saturday night's fiesta would not stop, so I have had to resort to Peace Corps protocal: Gatorade, or its equivalent, until things calm down. It leaves you kind of hungry, but it beats spending the entire day circling the bathroom like a vulture. By the way, Stony Brook Travel Medicine was kind enough to provide me with a recipe for home-made Gatorade that is reputed to be effective enough to rehydrate cholera patients: Add 1 teaspoon of salt and 8 teaspoons of sugar to 1 liter of water. Honestly, it tastes just like Gatorade without the bizarre "fruit flavor." And it provides the same salty after-taste.

In better news, a valuable suggestion (offered by Ms. CZ, of Brooklyn, NY) has made an enormous difference in the management of the fourth grade class. The idea was a behavior chart with no more than three rules, so the children could see if they were sticking to them, a daily record of rule-compliance, and a sticker for every three checks for rule compliance. And, of course, a prize at the end of the week for the best behavior (yes, it's an ice cream.) The three rules are: I stayed in my seat, I was quiet, I didn't touch anyone. We started Monday. Today is Thursday. My classroom resembles a fourth grade classroom in the United States. I'm even considering doing the same with my older students, but I'm not sure I can afford to buy all of them off. On the other hand, maybe I can't afford not to.

I've got to say, this is a great advance over the Peace Corps years. I believe that I mentioned the idea of "crowd-sourcing" this project, that is, using ideas from all of my talented friends to do a much better job than I could alone. Back in the Costa Rica days, I had to invent everything I did, which meant that I spent a lot of time doing little or nothing, or doing things of dubious value. So I invite all of you to keep me on track.

So, permaculturists, how many chickens in how big an enclosure constitute a chicken tractor? Tolte is ripe for the concept.

Saturday night in Tolte

Okay, so it's midday on Tuesday, but I thought I'd describe my Saturday night in Tolte. I had spent most of the day walking down to the touristic train station just to have a place to walk to. There are three ways down. Angus took me down the one of medium difficulty and up the easy one, but there is apparently a terrifying thord way that the people who work at the station usually use. I doubt I'll ever try and go that way without rapelling equipment. It's no big deal to them, though.

Anyway, I came back, and played the guitar for a while, but I felt like getting out and seeing what could be happening in the plaza or elsewhere on Saturday night. At one of the little general stores, the soccer team was trying to cleanse their disappointing loss in the semi-finals of a tournament. They had one last year, and were favored to do so again. One of the players, Fredi, helps me in the computer room and library as part of his scholarship grant from AVANTI. So the next thing I knew, I was invited to join in the group attempt to consume all the beer in the store.

The Ecuadorean beer is called Pilsener, and it tastes a bit like washed out Budweiser. It comes in 1 liter bottles (I think), and is definitely of no use for pure beer enjoyment. I was very careful not to consume what the young futbolistas consumed, but I certainly had more than I was used to. Let's just say that, as they hoped, it was a cleansing experience.

Of what good is such behavior, you may ask? Well, the next day I went with Narcisa and Jose to Chunchi, where they treated me to breakfast and I watched Jose sell a sheep.We parted as I went to a a public internet office and they went to do their shopping. After I finished e-mailing, I went out to wait for a bus that would take me to Tolte. There is really only one line that will make that kind of local stop, and I had been waiting a long time when a truck pulled to a stop. And there was about half of the soccer team, who were happy to invite me to catch a ride with them. Of course, I didn't do so by hanging off the back of the truck bed thye way they did--I climbed inside. I feel like I'm too old for that sort of thing. But it goes to show that no social effort is ever wasted in Pistishi.

Well, that's progress

It seems strange how hard it is to keep up with events in a place as quiet as Tolte. There is always something happening. Yesterday, it was road widening. This seems to be a kind of local obsession. Everyone wants wider roads, but there is so little traffic that it is hard to understand why this seems so important. But, because I respect the opinions of those who clearly know better than I do what they want and need, I happily went out to watch and participate in road widening when I had given my last English class of the day. I have to say that, so far, my work day is not as long as the full school day. I expect this to change as I am working with a larger vocabulary and more concepts. By the end of the year, I expect the class that I think is half an hour (but is probably 45 minutes) will last an hour.

So there we were, 50 or more of the 400 residents of Tolte, watching a bulldozer and a grader widen the secondary road. The first notable achievement that I saw was the uprooting of Jose Manuel’s avocado tree, which was greeted with some colorful language by his wife in which the [hrase “hijo de puta” was prominently featured. I think she had a point. The entire additional width came from the land around their house, which reached the road as a seven foot high wall of unreinforced earth. Across the street was a home made of cement surrounded by a concrete and brick wall. Naturally, the earth wall seemed to invite the bulldozer’s blade. And so it went throughout the process, with those who have adobe and earth ceding more than those who have brick and cement. The last phase that I participated in involved the removal of a stone wall that must have taken an enormous effort to build. I’m not sure that taking it down produced more than a couple of meters of additional width. The wall owners did not look as though they felt that their contribution to the community goals was truly appreciated.

At that point, they were almost done for the day. I went to “the other Narcisa,” not the one whose house I live in, for lunch. This is a semi-established arrangement, that outsiders who are living in Tolte can get a hot meal (or more, if they like) at Narcisa’s house for about a buck and a half. Lunch typically includes soup and a plate of rice with vegetables and either an egg or some kind of meat (not guinea pig, thankfully.) It’s also a good place to get some idea of a semi-outsider’s point of view of events in Tolte. Narcisa lived in the States for 12 years, which is not unusual here, but personal issues have detached her a bit from the rest of the community, upon which she now casts a mildly jaundiced eye. So we talked about the road building, and about the behavior of children in school, and I felt slightly more informed, but not in a way that would contribute much to the blogosphere.

For me, the biggest event of the day was attending the first school parents’ meeting of the school year. This meeting was relatively short, as I understand it, at three hours. Much of the time was spent on deciding how much each family should pay for school maintenance supplies (brooms, detergent, whatnot), and whether it should be on a per family or per child basis. There was also the sense that the requested  8 brooms for four classrooms and the bathroom area was an excessive number, and would raise costs unnecessarily. In the end, every family paid 3 dollars, and that was that. Eventually they were kind enough to give me a few moments to report on my perceptions of how school was going. I tried to be gentle, but who knows if my Spanish was adequate to the task. I asked them to give their children a fruit or vegetable to eat during recess, instead of giving them money for candy, both for nutritional and disciplinary reasons. I asked them not to allow their children to bring toys to school. And I asked them to explain to their children that they considered education important, and that the requests of the teachers should be considered a request from the parent. I know I was understood, at least, as the PTA president then reiterated all I had said in very accurate terms. Will Monday be different? One can only hope. But I will certainly be at all of these meetings, especially because the other teachers don’t actually live in Tolte, but return to their own families in Riobamba on Friday afternoons. Still, the prospect of a three hours meeting every Friday is something I will have to be a grown-up about.

A final school related item: I am writing this Saturday morning. I went over to the computer room with the specific goal of making Rosetta Stone 3: English work on the four computers that are still functioning. After much tweaking of controls and testing of headsets, all four are in fact working, an achievement that is certainly near the outer limits of my computer skills. The computer room will now be a more inviting place for adults and high school students, which is good because I am starting English for Adults classes on Monday, Sept. 26. The classes will start at 7:30, last for an hour, and be given every Monday and Thursday for now. If there is a need for more time, I’ll add days and hours. We’ll see how that goes. I confess that I might enjoy teaching adults more than children, or at least in a different, less stressed way. So far, I’m counting on word of mouth to carry the news,  but I hope to gear up more on Monday when the community office is open again.

I am sorry that I cannot write more often. I usually have access to the internet only at midday Monday through Friday, and not every one of those days. By the time I get through my e-mail, I need to open the computer room. But I am told that the office has been closed more than usual lately, and the hours have not extended as late into the evening as usual, either, so things may improve. 

Living on the Edge

Thanks to all, especially James, for suggestions on classroom management. I've decided the first thing we need is a way to keep the door closed from the inside so the children aren't constantly running out of it. That would be a step in the right direction, even if it does sound a bit like imprisonment. You can't teach a fleeing child--though I don't necessarily dispute their instinct. Run, fly, be free!

Today I really toyed with death. There was a kind of fiesta today, thanking some section of the government for providing improved wheat seed. This occasioned much slaughter of chickens and quite a few guinea pigs. I missed the chicken peeling, but did get to see a guinea pig de-haired and cleaned. It brought back the happy days of ninth grade fetal pig dissection, without the nasty formaldehyde smell. Not long after, I was offered a plate of potatoes with what was clearly a guinea pig haunch (considered a major Andean delicacy (and perhaps a test of my commitment), It tastes a bits like dark meat of chicken, though it looks a bit less attractive.

Then, in helpful Dave mode, I offered to help an elderly neighbor and her grand=daughter haul sacks of sand. First of all, these sacks of sand were far heavier than anything I could lift. Second, once I had hoisted a sort of half sack, the place they needed it hauled to was down a frighteningly steep hill. The second load I carried was probably about a third of a sack. I got it down there, but not without slipping and sliding all the way. still, I didn't toally lose my footing. On the other hand, I did feel ridiculous. When the neighbor offered me "refresco," how could I refuse? We'll know by sometime this evening how many amoebas I consumed at the same time. But that humiliation I can bear in private. I am told that, generally, the water is safe, unless there is a pipe break somewhere. I should be a good gauge of the state of the plumbing.

I have to go open the Cuarto de Computacion. A large number of children are watching me type this, knowing that as soon as I am done they can play with Encarta.

Por el Amor de Dios!

This is a phrase that I have repeated several times over the last few days as I contemplated my lack of internet access. I went to Alausi to clear out my inbox Thursday, and tried going to Chunchi on Saturday to do it again because the internet here in Pistishi-Tolte would not cooperate with my computer. The internet in Chunchi (the whole town) was down. Finally, Daniel, the inginiero agronomo, returned today and got me arranged in the municipal network. Here's a sort of double entry I composed while I was waiting. There may be a few pictures, too.

Yesterday, Angus and I made the 6 hout bus trip from Quito  to Pistishi. It turns out that this area is better know to bus drivers as Tolte, one of four villages within Pistishi. Only a few families live in the other three villages, though, so Tolta assumes greater importance. We arrived at night, which made me a bit nervous, because Angus had to sort of intuit the right moment to ask the driver to stop the bus. For future reference, it is shortly after the slightly terrifying drop off the right side of the bus just past Alausi.

We were lucky to get a ride from the Pan American highway into Tolte. It’s not a long walk, maybe 15 minutes, but Angus insisted on carrying my bag, which reached even my sense of shame. I’m not sure what’s in it that makes it so heavy, but it weighs a ton. We were dropped off in the plaza, where the school, the library, the computer room, the municipal offices, and the church are all conveniently clustered together. I met Ruth and Francisco in the office. They both work for the junta comunitaria. Just outside the offices I met Hilda and Carlos, who are just starting college. This is a big step for them and for Pistishi. AVANTI has given them a stipend to do positive work for the community which will help to fund their studies. Part of what they will do is to help me to positive work for the community. For the first time in my life, I have something like a staff. I guess I’d better find some supervisory skills.

We went from the plaza to the house I’ll be living in. It is quite grand, with several floors, electricity, and running water. For the time being, there is no internet service here, and I will have to connect through the municipalidad. But rumor has it that the government will be completing installation of a wireless hotspot that will cover Tolte in the next week or so. Now that’s rural development.

To return to my living situation, I will be sharing the house with Daniel, and agronomist, and Narcisa and Jose, a married couple who look after the house, which everyone refers to as “Narcisa’s house.”. Narcisa works for the touristic railroad that runs up Nariz del Diablo, reputed to be “the 2^nd most popular tourist attraction in Ecuador,” while Jose works for the junta directive. Daniel will be here until December—will find out how much permaculture he can stand between now and then. I’m particularly obsessing about the chicken tractor, as pest problems seem to be a focal issue for farmers here. So far this morning I have heard chickens, sheep, cows, pigs, and a donkey. Plenty of tractor potential, I’m sure.

The photos, if I can run all the connections right, were taken from my bedroom window. Not the topography of Long Island, I can assure you.

Well, now it’s Saturday afternoon and I still have not been able to post this. The internet went down In Pistishi the day after I arrived, and I haven’t been able to get on it since. Today I went to the nearest larger town, Chunchi, to go to an internet booth there, and there is not internet in Chunchi, either. When the internet goes down in Ecuador, it’s like a setting sun. Much access is promised in the near future, but the present is discouraging.

Meanwhile, I did my first two days of teaching—the first as myself, “profe de ingles,” the second as a substitute for Sinia, the grades 1,2,3,4 teacher, who went to Riobamba to request another teacher. Enrollment went from 48 last year to 65 this year, while the number of teachers seems to have gone from three to two (not counting me, of course—I’m the profe de ingles, not a teacher. The first day was fine, more or less. I taught grades 4-7, and the only one that presented a real problem was grade 4. That should have warned me about the next day. Village school students will be amused to learn that 30 little children paid me absolutely no respect or attention of any kind, and quite literally ran wild for 5 hours. By hour four, I had simply decided that all I could do was keep them in the classroom, which I could only accomplish by holding the door closed. Needless to say, I couldn’t really teach from there, but a couple of persistent first graders did get some use out of the day. Even kinaesthetic learning has its limits, I guess, if everything one says seems optional. One of the children clued me in that Sonia writes notes home to parents if there is misbehavior. Her class is still sort of chaotic, but nothing as bad as mine. All I can say is, I hope she got the third teacher and never misses another class.

But other things are going well. I played a child’s guitar yesterday during computer room hours (no, there is no internet access in the room yet, but we’re supposed to get wirless any day now) and made a good impression. I was invited to play with a couple of guys who have the equivalent of a garage band—except it’s not a garage, it’s a small building made of mud bricks. Very atmospheric. I had serious trouble with the rhythms, but seemed to be okay on when to change chords, once I got some help as to what the chords were. Al would have done better. Looks like I’ll have plenty of opportunity to solo in the Aeolian mode.

And today I’ll have a chance to see Manuel make mud bricks. I didn’t see this kind of construction during the Peace Corps years—I’m not sure it’s done in Costa Rica. The newer houses here, the ones built with remittance money, are made of brick, cinder block, and reinforced concrete. But the permaculture influence persists—maybe there are a bunch of permies back in the States who will pay good money for a mud hut, and I’ll be there to supply it, out of the appropriate, locally available materials, of course. On the other hand, the amount of firewood they were cutting when I passed by this morning looked sort of intimidating. I might need a partner.

Oh, I also took a hike with Angus down to the Nariz del Diablo touristic train station. That was way back on Wednesday. It really is quite picturesque, in a mountain extravaganza sort of way. Maybe by the time I get to post this I’ll have a nice picture of Nariz del Diablo to include. From the proper angle, it looks like an elephant. I’ll see if I can get that one for you.

Anyway, this week’s call for advice is, believe it or not, CLASSROOM MANAGEMENT! How am I going to get the fourth graders to behave? I suppose I can threaten o keep them out of the computer room, but not all of them use it. Maybe just the fear of being denied something will get to them. But I’d welcome a more positive solution.

This first picture is a view from the Quito bus station, Quitumbe. The second is a view from my bedroom window. Think about it.

I hope you all will see this someday very soon..

Quito

One would have to be truly shameless to try to describe flying over the Andes. I was going to remark on what a clumsy traveler I am, always one step away from losing my passport. I thought I might mention that flying in an airplane when I should be sleeping somewhere is not good for my brain. But I have looked out of an airplane window and seen the Andes, and nothing else really matters. I have never lived anywhere really mountainous, but I will now. Can one actually bathe in the reflected glory of a landscape? And if one does, does that make one glorious somehow, or at least uplifted?

At the moment, I am sitting in the AVANTI office. Angus and I enjoyed a fine breakfast, where I asked a million questions about Pistishi that I'll have to ask again after I've slept. But the opportunity to do meaningful work in Pistishi is clear, and I know that however long I stay there will be time well spent. And I will get there sometime tomorrow.

All out

This blogging business seems to be good for the economy, if not my finances. Now that I'm blogging, I went out and bought a camera. I haven't owned a camera since I was in the Peace Corps, which accounts for how rare photographs of my children, me, and my surroundings have become. But software is installed, the memory card is in the camera, and I think the camera is almost charged up. Visuals ought to be available any day now. Which is good, because I head to Ecuador tomorrow. It's all almost too exciting--not that my life couldn't use more excitement.

Thanks for all the support so many of you have offered in our parting conversations. Keep in mind that I'm counting on all of you for great ideas that I can use to help the people of Pistishi. No question but that you're a talented lot.