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.

Guitar Hero

Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t steal this title from a video game of questionable worth (but unquestioned popularity). But I confess that I have always wanted to be a guitar hero in some musical form or another. I have also admitted that, in contrast to Robert Johnson, who is said to have sold his soul to the Devil in order to gain his eerie guitar skills, I have simply gone to hell playing the guitar in spite of the fact that I have no particular musical talent. I’m mostly just thrilled that Allie is already the guitar player that I never was, and hope that talent sustains him somehow.

But here in Tolte, I’m the best guitar player available. I’m not the best musician; that would have to be Juan Vicente,  local folkloric music expert, luthier, and multi-instrumentalist, who can play traditional Ecuadorean music on at least five different instruments. He can also manage a disorderly band of amateurs, and that’s how it happened that he invited me (as the best guitarist available) to join a group for a one-time presentation for a small group of tourism evaluators who came to Tolte on Thursday.

We started rehearsing Thursday morning at 8 AM: Juan Vicente, his brother Pablo (the local carpenter, also capable of playing at least four instruments), Jose, my housemate and their cousin, who had the drum-beating duties, and Giovanny, the best guitar player in Tolte, and the only non-relative (besides me on both counts), and me. We managed to learn instrumental versions of two songs, either because no vocalists were available or because it’s too complicated to get vocalists to do the right thing in a short amount of time. This took over two hours because a) I had never heard the songs before, and had to learn a couple of single note fills, and b) Vicente doesn’t like sloppy entrances and exits, and we had plenty of those. We hurried down to the new look-out point near the train station to greet the tourism evaluators.

At least for me, things started to make me laugh at this point. First of all, in a display of the kind of unconcern that the high and mighty generally reserve for the rest of us, the tourism evaluators showed up almost two hours later than expected, while all of my neighbors neglected the million demanding things they do every day to wait for them. I suppose it wasn’t really funny, but it so conformed to my most cynical expectations that I did kind of have to laugh. Then there was the organizing of the band into an appropriately costumed group, which included me wearing a woven poncho, just like my bandmates. I’m trying to get someone to give me a photo of this (I stupidly forgot my camera), but I’ve decided to go ahead and publish this without the photo, because none has come through yet.  No sense letting this news get any staler.
The funniest thing, though, was that when the inspectors finally showed up, Vicente introduced the band by saying that we were all natives of the area, and before he got to explain my dubious presence, one of the inspectors asked, “Y que es eso?”(“And what’s that?”), indicating me. No, I don’t look very Ecuadorean, especially in a group where three out of five are close relatives. Vicente explained that I was an “invitado,” and we got down to playing the songs we had practiced. Our entrances and exits were kind of rough, but the music sounded pretty good in spite of it all, and we got high marks from all concerned.

Of course, the inspectors then went on to tell everybody that our touristic product wasn’t ready yet, for reasons that aren’t quite clear to me. I do have my own concerns about the tourism effort here, and whether it really will attract outsiders to Tolte, but I think people are doing about the best that can be expected. The idea is that tourists will ride horses down to the train station, where they’ll hear about life in Pistishi and see the Nariz del Diablo zig-zagging train route in action. They’ll also get spectacular views of the Andes from horseback, the chance to pet a llamingo, and maybe some folkloric entertainment. As touristic products go, it’s not great, but it’s pretty low-key and harmless. I’m not sure what the tourism inspectors are waiting for, but there has been a lot of testing and no income in sight. I think we’re all getting a bit impatient.

Now that the touristic presentation is over, it’s back to playing rock band with Freddy, Mario, Dani, and the other Freddy. We’re working on five songs, one of which I’ve actually learned the lyrics to and three of which I can play the solo from the recording. I don’t like learning recorded solos, but they’ve been easier than I feared and this is one of those things the lead guitarist with a garage band has to accept. I do get to do a solo of my own on the most “roquero” of our numbers, though.  The truth is, I kind of wish Allie would play a solo and I could learn that, but I feel pretty good about what’s coming out so far. It isn’t really loud enough, but it is sufficiently horrible to attract attention. The boys are very pleased.

Oh, and my job? I’m into my final lessons with the sixth grade, and I hope to go into a more free conversation phase with them in about a week. Seventh grade, at least its functional members, are about a week behind. Fourth and fifth grade are about three days behind the seventh grade., though maybe at a lower level entirely.  Still, there’s more English in the air these days in Tolte, and it’s coming from my students, not the high school kids, so I think I’m doing pretty well. Agricultural technology is at a bit of a standstill as we wait for the dry season to begin; you can’t build bench terraces in mud. But it hasn’t rained in a day or two, so maybe we really are entering verano as scheduled. It just hasn’t had the same sudden start as the rainy season did back in December.

As all of this winds down, I am looking for the next job. Nothing tangible has happened yet. The job at Yachana in the Amazon has been indefinitely postponed due to funding problems and program changes, and that was my safe play. Carolina is trying to get me funded for another year in Tolte. I have just spent the morning applying for jobs all over the Spanish-speaking world that I located through idealist.org. We’ll have to see what happens, but keep in mind that everything and everyone I’ve ever needed here in Tolte has surfaced just when I needed them. I’m feeling pretty good about my chances.

Long arm of the future

I know that one of the important lessons of Tolte is that everything will turn up when I need it, and everyone will turn up when I need him or her. This was confirmed just today--I missed Damasio's departure from home, so I had to go looking for him down in the hacienda. I had just about decided that I wouldn't find him when he turned up, and we had a fine time considering what he should do for his fruit trees.

So I shouldn't be worrying about what my next job will be when I have a whole month left of this one. After all, I can't be entirely unemployed. I have a job offer in the Amazon, where I would return to being a high school science teacher, but also create curriculum for a k-12 science program that could be implemented in rural schools throughout Ecuador. Am I creative enough? No, but the internet is full of good ideas for teachers. I'm not bad at hunting and gathering.

In spite of this security, or maybe because of it, I have started looking for a job anyway. Angus is spreading my resume in a thin layer over Quito, where it may appeal to someone, but it hasn't yet. He says that my best chance to find worthwhile development work in ecuador is to work for the givernment, probably in the Ministerio de agricultura (MAGAP) or the Ministerio del Ambiente. I'd prefer to work for an NGO than the Ecuadorean government, but with looming cuts to USAID and the generally anemic state of charitable donation worldwide, the government is a better bet.

So I also took my resume by hand over to the MAGAP office in Riobamba. Daniel, the ingeniero agronomo who often works in Tolte, told me to try to get to speak to the director or the subsecretaria, but I only reached Talento Humano. But I did leave  aresume, and went across to the Ministerio del Ambiente office and left one there, too. I had hoped to speak to the directora there, because her secretary told me it would be possible, but things didn't work out that way. When I got back to Tolte, Daniel told me that Mecias, the teniente politico, is good friends with the MAGAP director. He did put in a good word for me, but MAGAP is hoping to find a gringo with an engineering degree, for irrigation projects I imagine. So prospects there are also dim.

This left idealist.org, which provided me with the wonderful experience you are reading about. I found interesting jobs with El Nahual in Guatemala, Witness for Peace in Nicaragua, and SKIP in Peru. Witness for Peace and SKIP had lengthy applications, which I spent most of last weekend filling out (explaining the long stretch between blog entries, I hope). El Nahual only wanted a resume and cover letter, and they were the first to contact me for an interview. This was very exciting until I looked at the job offer more carefully and realized that it was unpaid, and provided only a place to live. Since I already have an offer of a paying job in the Amazon, I decided that I really had to bow out of what certainly would have been a cool experience in Guatemala. Maybe after my pension starts...what's that, another 11 years or so? The El Nahual people were very enthusiastic about me. I hope I've done the right thing.

Somewhat to my surprise, Witness for Peace is also interested in my application. I don't have a long  or deep record of political activism, which is mostly what the work seems to be about. But I have had string feeling about American policy in Central America since before I went to the Peace Corps, so maybe that counts. Anyway, they set me up for an oral Spanish test via Skype, which made me sort of nervous. I mean, if I don't speak Spanish well enough for this job, what kind of fool have i been making of myself here in Tolte? But I passed, in spite of my inadequate attempt to translate "Central American Free Trade Agreement" into Spanish. I guess I did okay, in spite of the sort of political/economic sorts of sentences that I had to translate into both English and Spanish. Now I'm just waiting for them to interview me, which should be an exciting experience. The intellectual level will probably be more than a bit above what I'm capable of producing on a daily basis in Tolte.

Meanwhile, the new and exciting experience in Tolte has been my continuing integration into a sort of garage band that I have dubbed "La Banda de Miercoles." This is a double entendre--ask Maya to work it out for you. In any case, since I am the only person who knows how to play lead guitar for a rock or pop band, I get to be the lead guitarist. Our goal is to play at the big parroquializacion fiesta on May 21, performing covers of five (that may be too many) songs that are popular in Ecuador these days, though I think most of them are imported from Spain and Mexico. There is a serious risk that this will all be a big mess, because the guys in the band (I think the total age of the four or five of them might be equal to my own) are relying on my musical knowledge to prevent exactly that. Since I have basically zero band experience, things could get ugly. So far, I'm trying to teach them to count to four repeatedly as they play. It seems to be helping.

But in case I was about to get carried away by my own musical skills, The New Paltz Oracle named Allie musician of the week for April 26. Check out his performance of "Dear Prudence" with his amazing bass playing pal Sam on YouTube. You will love it.

So here I am, entering my last month in Tolte, unless Carolina manages to pull some sort of magical funding out of the bag and hire me for another year (the final job opportunity!) Francisco called her the other day to plead on my behalf. Of course, if I were really committed, I could probably open an English language school in Chunchi, and use that to fund whatever development activities I find interesting. I'm not sure I'm at that point. But May should be an exciting time both for my students and soil conservation practices as we move out of the rainy season and towards the end of the school year. bench terraces, anyone?

Amazonia

I apologize for the delay. I know you’re all dying to hear what happened in the Amazon, and I’ve been slow to put it out there. This is partly due to my efforts to fill out a job application for Witness for Peace, without doubt some of the most difficult writing I have ever attempted, and certainly the longest and most arduous job application. Some of you may get the opportunity to help me with it. Winners will be informed by personal e-mail.

The Amazon is far. Maybe it isn’t far from itself, but it’s far from anywhere I have ever been, and specifically far from Tolte. School had been closed since Tuesday, so I didn’t have to try to make the whole trip on Saturday, which might have been impossible. I had to arrive in Los Rios early enough to take the half hour canoe trip to Yachana before 6 PM. I left Friday morning in cold, dense fog, which probably didn’t help my leaving. It was Good Friday and I don’t think the Chunchi bus company that makes hourly trips to Riobamba was running. The Patria bus didn’t even slow down as it passed me by. Fortunaately, I was able to get a ride in the back of a truck all the way to Palmyra, and catch a bus from there to Riobamba, so I only lost about an hour waiting for the bus. From Riobamba I caught the bus to Tena, a small city on the edge of Amazonia. From there, I used the internet to call my family for Passover. Once I was back on the street, I got to watch a “Stations of the Cross” procession that wound down the main street of Tena. Being Jewish in Ecuador has its limits.

The next morning, I caught the bus to Los Rios. This three and a half hour trip involved two and a half hours on a narrow dirt road cutting into the rain forest. If we met another bus or truck coming in the opposite direction, we had to back up until we found some place wide enough to let it by. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get a good picture of us cutting through the jungle.

When I got to Los Rios, Diego was waiting for me with the canoe. Diego uses crutches to get around, but he was down the path and into the canoe a lot faster than I was. He very ably steered the canoe down to Yachana. The view from the river was incredible, and the picture that I share here doesn’t do it justice. Along the way, Andres, who came along for the ride with Diego, pointed out people panning for gold along the river. Apparently, when the river rises, it leaves behind material containing gold. People work all day to collect a gram or two, each gram worth about $30, which is a good day’s wage in Ecuador. Unfortunately, conditions don’t allow panning for gold every day, so it isn’t all that profitable.

We arrived at the Yachana Lodge, which is an incredible place. Tourists come from all over the world to visit the lodge and take day trips into the region. The lodge has a view of two volcanoes when the weather is clear, as well as spectacular views of the river and forest. The whole project, which includes a health center for the neighboring community of 27 families and the Yachana technical high school, is the life achievement of Douglas McMeekin, a Kentuckian who came to Ecuador 26 years ago. Douglas describes himself as an entrepreneur, always quickly adding that “it’s a personality type.” He started out working as an environmental consultant to the oil industry, moved on to a project that involved establishing schools along the river Yachana overlooks, and decided to invest in a location about midway along the path of the school project. Yachana and Douglas have one a number of prestigious awards, because Yachana is about as good an example of social entrepreneurship as one is likely to find anywhere.
Douglas was primarily interested in talking to me about Yachana’s educational projects. The high school attracts kids from al over Ecuadorean Amazonia. The program is innovative, with the kids studying three weeks without a break and going for work experiences for the rest of the month, which reminded me a bit of the Village School’s internship experience. Douglas has extensive contacts in the tourism industry, and some of the kids have even been offered jobs based on their performance during their internships.
Another interesting feature of the high school is that the instructors are all foreign volunteers, mostly recent college graduates. In spite of some minor language difficulties, these young people have been able to deliver an unusually high quality education by Ecuadorean standards, largely due to their exceptional level of commitment. Chris, Ryan, and Amanda, my hat’s off to you, or would be, if I could remember to wear a hat.
Douglas has a new project as well, on the other side of the river. It is the Yachana Technical Institute, which will offer both a junior college program and short certification courses. This has been funded through Douglas’ own painstaking fundraising efforts, most recently involving the Japanese Embassy and Schlumberger, the oil equipment company and one of the Amazon’s biggest employers. It certainly would be a great opportunity to learn how he does it. There has been concern that the high school would close for lack of funds, but Douglas is absolutely sure that this will not happen, if only because he considers the school the centerpiece of the Yachana program.
The job Douglas would like me to do is to teach science with an agriculture emphasis in the high school. There are certain curriculum points required by the Ministerio de Educacion. The general idea is that I would take care of those as quickly as possible, and then focus on experiential learning. I suppose one concern I have is that the students know more than I do about the practical end of agriculture. From what I understand, they’re all eager to stay away from it, and work in tourism. Also, there is a problem with certain neighbors harvesting school crops before the school can. This could be a serious obstacle to success.
An exciting aspect of working for the school is that the model of combining school with practical experience is of great interest to people in the Ministerio de Educacion, and there is a desire to replicate it elsewhere, possibly in the Galapagos. Yachana may become the brand name for a whole chain of innovative school programs, and I might have the chance to be a part of that.
On the other hand, I am not at all sure that I will take a position with Yachana. The school program is very intense and would take all my time, which means that I would return to my well-accustomed role as a science teacher. That’s not at all bad, but I’m down here because I keep hoping for something more, something new and different. I suppose that if I do take the job with Yachana, it will be because I can see a real opportunity to learn from Douglas. He and I will have to hash that out. But, for now, my job search is not over.
Nor is my search for daily work. Last week’s vacation (Tuesday through Friday) was followed by this week’s vacation (Wednesday to Friday). Wednesday wasn’t entirely vacation—the teachers and I took the sixth graders to a presentation by the Chunchi rescue squad. This took less than an hour, which I think was not a great exchange for a full day of school. Thursday there was some program for the teachers, and today, Friday, is Dia del Maestro, which we maestros are celebrating by not teaching again. I’ve only got seven weeks left to teach English. I’ve been warned that there will be a lot more days off during this time, but I hope it isn’t quite the learning blackout of the past two weeks.
On a more positive note, the windbreak project that Raphael and Carlos worked out with the Colegio Tecnico Agropecuario de Chunchi actually happened yesterday. I had discussed windbreaks with two farmers, but when Raphael went to the colegio with Carlos to look for appropriate tree species, they found that the agroforestry teacher had a bunch of trees in a nursery and was all ready to plant them. After a letter requesting them to do this and a month’s delay, the teacher showed up with 15 students and 125 trees and we planted a windbreak around Asencio’s property, conveniently located behind his house in the center of Tolte.  While it wasn’t quite the technically perfect project I had hoped for, these are the first non-fruit trees planted here, and may be the first windbreak in Pistishi. There are 20 people in the granjas integrals group that Asencio belongs to—if all of them plant windbreaks, Tolte will gain 2000 trees or more. It’s not much in a territory this size, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction. And Asencio was certainly very happy with the result. No doubt, a successful project.

The Belgians are gone

This week was not an especially thrilling or fulfilling one, but in some ways it has been quite deep emotionally. This morning, the Belgians, Rafael and Geraldine, caught the bus for Riobamba. As we were walking up to the highway, they stopped to say goodbye to Pablo, who immediately offered to give them a ride in his funny little truck, better known as the Boogie Woogie (probably spelled "Bugui Wugui" in Tolte).  The kindness of Toltenos to us gringos is never-ending.

I confess that I found this heart-wrenching, not strictly because I will miss them, which I will. It was a real pleasure to spend time with them, partly because they're fun and energetic, and partly because they could give me some perspective on what I'm doing here. But their going reminds me that I only have another two months here, and then I will also have to leave this place where I am so at home. Where else will people call me "Naichu Michu" (that's "nice to meet you," if you didn't guess it during my previous blog entry)? Where else will I feel so well met? People here have accepted me as an odd part of the community. I'm almost not sure I have the right to leave them behind. Although the children have come a long way, they still don't speak English as well as I had hoped they would by this point. Have I delivered my end of this bargain?

So as I contemplate my job interview in the Amazon next week, I wonder if I will come back to Tolte afterwards and make a more serious effort to stay here instead. It doesn't seem right to go, but there are some aspects of my life here that are emotionally challenging. There is no one here in the same social category that I am (divorced man over 50), which makes it difficult for people to figure me out. I seem to be classed with the other single guys of Tolte, who are generally under 22 years old. So I get to play the guitar a lot, and stay out late sometimes, but I think my behavior does seem more than a bit strange to the grown-ups.

I'll return to this theme after reporting some interesting events of the week. On Tuesday, i got caught up in a community soccer game that included the school teachers, Rafael and Geraldine, and a large number of women and children. This turned out to be more my level than the distressing game I played back during the Fiesta de Tolte. By sticking to defense, I was able to compensate for my lack of skill by getting in everyone else's way. People declared me "better than one would expect," and I had fun for the first time in years playing a game that included a ball.

Wednesday I went to work to help a family where the father is recovering from a hernia operation. It seems this will take as much as a year. The man involved is the same one who, a few weeks back, carried about 50 pounds of corns from the hacienda to the center of Tolte, a physical feat I commented upon at the time. So losing his strength is a big blow for this relatively poor family. I can't say I was much compensation, but I did 6 hours of work on what was probably the steepest piece of land I have ever tried to stand on--and it was a cornfield. While Dona Sharita and Dona Lucia, both grandmothers, cut down the high weeds with machetes, I struggled to scrape out little rings around each corn or bean plants using a pick. Because the land was so steep, my back didn't hurt too much, but my feet and legs sure did. It's been a long time since I was that tired.

Thursday night was the beginning of the farewell to Rafael and Geraldine. This involved kooky games and more trago than I would like to admit, but at least I made it to school the next day. The teachers did not--although this is not because I am hardier than they, but less. I gave up about 1 in the morning, but they were still partying at 7 o'clock when school started. Geraldine commented that this was not like any professional behavior that she had ever encountered, and I'm inclined to agree. We wouldn't last long setting this kind of example in the United States or Belgium.

Friday was a healthier kind of send-off. Mario got the folk-dance kids together for their first real performance, and it was a great success. From there, he continued to play dance music until about 11 PM. We all had a great time dancing the night away, and I think Rafael and Geraldine were very happy with it all. I got to dance with the Toltenita of my dreams, but it's pretty clear that I'm not the gringo for her. I suppose I can live with that knowledge.

And then, this morning, the Belgians left. They're going to travel around Ecuador for a month, maybe spending some time at Yachana, where I have my interview, and then go back to Belgium. People here were really sorry to see them go--they brought a real rush of youthful energy to the place, and got a lot done in a short time. I'll have to follow up on at least one project, which seems to be mired in paperwork in the Colegio Tecnico, but I think it can be worked out. Meanwhile, I wonder how I will cope with my own departure, and whether or how I will find my way back. Even then, I will be on the outside again, not almost on the inside as I am now. It's a painful thought.

54

Thursday was my birthday, and now I’m 54. I remember George Carlin talking about the AM radio dial, and how 54, down at the bottom of the dial, always with a big 5 and a little 4, represented some kind of netherworld where decent radio signals do not go. And that’s where I have finally arrived. Of course, as I move into the decent part of the AM radio dial, I’ll become even more decrepit, but I suppose I’ll have to live with that trade.

The day didn’t get off to a great start. A parent complained to one of the teachers about the way I manage the computer room, instead of complaining directly to me, which is always annoying. I did catch up with her later in the day, and found, as I suspected,, that the problem was not so much one of computer room policy as difficulty managing her sons, who are a handful. We agreed that they wouldn’t have permission to go to the computer room until 6, unless I knew that they had permission to be there earlier, and that problem went away.

I won’t even dignify the other problem by describing it, but I will note that it is fortunate that bitter, selfish people are a small percentage of the world’s population—even if they seem to be in charge much of the time. What they fail to realize is that the rest of us can live perfectly well without them.

But good news also arrived. Carolina, president of AVANTI, my employer, has been talking to me about the possibility of working for the YACHANA foundation in the Amazon. I think this would be teaching work, but perhaps more focused on agricultural topics. Needless to say, working in that environment is the sort of adventure I thought I would need years of low level toil to achieve. I have an interview in the Amazon on April 8th, and will need all day the 7th to get there (and all day the 9th to get back). The last half hour of the trip will be by canoe. I’ll just let that sink in.

There was a great birthday moment during my class with the sixth graders. I mentioned that it was my birthday, and they asked how old I am. I told them that I was 54. One of the kids looked at me and asked, “So why are you such a muchacho?” I said that it was probably just because I’m so silly.

After an afternoon in the computer room, Freddy and Florencio invited me for some celebratory beer at Francisco’s store. I was a bit hesitant, because I had heard that something was brewing in my house (no, not beer, some sort of fiesta). But, looking back on things, I think they were part of the plan. So we had a few beers, and bought some more just in case, and headed for the house. You’d think, knowing as I did that something was up, that I couldn’t really be surprised. But I really was. It wasn’t so much that there was a party, but that there were about 50 people at it. They were mostly people that Narcisa must have rounded up from among the folks who work at the train station, the cafeteria people and the folk dancers. But there was also a big bunch of my school kids, for the 6-60 effect.

And what a party it was—I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday with such enthusiasm. I certainly can’t remember the last time that I spent several hours dancing, but I suspect I’d have to look back to the Peace Corps years. And it took all night, because, as the birthday person, I had to dance with every woman present (not that this was a burdensome requirement). The kids who have been taking folk dance lessons with Mario, who teaches as part of his AVANTI university scholarship, also did their thing to great effect. Most of the adults there had not seen the folk dance class, and they were really impressed, if only by how cute the kids are, and how serious they get when they’re dancing.

I also have to mention the great contribution of the Belgians, Rafael and Geraldine, to the festivities. First of all, when I got to the kitchen in the morning, they had left a loaf of bread which was a highly accurate sculpture of my face. I’ll probably laugh every time I remember this for the rest of my life. They were also outstanding party people, dancing to great and cheerful comic effect. I think that they will be leaving at the end of this week, and I’ll miss them. They’re really a lot of fun. I regret any negative thoughts I ever had about their coming, because they’ve made a wonderful impression on Tolte, and accomplished a lot in a short time.

The party continued in increasingly haphazard fashion until 2 or 3 in the morning, until I truly felt that my faraway problem really can't touch me here. It really was wonderful in every way, although getting up at 6:30 to work on Friday was not easy. And, in a fit of I’m not sure what, but probably something to do with a desire not to look as old as I now am, I went ahead and shaved off my moustache, which Allie, at least, regards as great news. If all goes well, I’ll upload the first clean shaven picture of myself since my Bar Mitzvah. Forty-one years of hirsute splendor. I suppose it will return one day, if I ever come to terms with how old I really am.

Making It

By any measure, this must have been my most successful week in Tolte. I think the key day was Thursday, (March 8), when I got to lead off MCCH’s granja integral workshop with a talk about soil erosion and how to reduce it. I talked about the different components of soil, and how easily they could wash away, especially the living components of microorganisms and organic matter. I gave examples of different land slopes that I had seen on my farm visits, and how they could be managed so as to reduce erosion. And I demonstrated the famous 1 percent land level that I learned to build in the Peace Corps, and asked to be allowed to use it with the attendees. And since they were there, I actually made appointments to see the ones I hadn’t seen.

But this talk was only the turning point of a week that saw five adults show up to study English on Wednesday, and four more on Thursday, giving me two fourteen hour workdays in a row. And on Friday, when there was no school, I did two farm visits in the early part of the morning,, attended the community budget meeting, and then, after lunch, I finally helped Asencio dig an irrigation channel on a one-percent slope, using the famous Peace Corps level. He was so enthused that he said he was going to make his own one percent level. It is also helpful that Asencio is a well-liked leading citizen—what he does is likely to catch on. I feel like it’s an historic moment, or at least a big moment in my history here.

I also took Rafael, one half of the young Belgian couple sent here as volunteers, with me on the morning farm visits. He is an agroforestry enthusiast, and he thinks that some trees, if they are of the right type, could fit into Asencio’s plot of land (the one that I leveled later that day). The only problem is that neither of us know much about the trees of Ecuador, and we were stumped (pun, hahaha) trying to come up with the right kind of tree. As usual, the universe coughed up an incredible stroke of good fortune, when Dr. Joe Peters, former Peace Corps Ecuador forestry volunteer, decided on that very day to send me an e-mail for the heck of it. Needless to say, I immediately asked him for an appropriate agroforestry species. He hasn’t responded yet, but I still think his e-mail was exquisitely timed, as are so many things that happen here.

The other half of the Belgian couple is Geraldine. Since I was told that she was a teacher, I took her to school on Tuesday. Geraldine, like me, is a high school teacher, and she found the grade 1-2-3 class a bit overwhelming (read: horrifying). I really hope that she’ll work with the kids one or two at a time on reading. I think that might be best. Her Spanish is actually very good, but 20 kids calling for her attention at once might have been a bit too much. She and Rafael spent most of the rest of the week putting down pavers in the streets of Tolte, which is the big community project right now.

The farming thrills did not end on Friday, though. I made a bunch more appointments for Saturday, and again experienced great satisfaction. Mesias has a little piece of land behind his house/store where he wants to plant the plants that MCCH brought on Thursday. He had already taken a shot at laying out contours by eye, but I did get to use the land level with him on another small area. He has a larger piece of land lower down the mountain, and I want to get out there, too, but I was glad to have a quick start on Saturday.

I had a much longer visit with Joaquin and his son Angel (better known as “Grande,” since he is easily the biggest person in Tolte). They were plowing a wheat field with a yoke of bulls, and I took the opportunity to lay out some contour lines for them to follow. Contour plowing is an essential soil conservation practice, but not one that I’ve ever gotten to work on before. In Costa Rica, it was always terraces. Anyway, they plowed until lunch, and I took over Joaquin’s part of the job after lunch. This consisted of walking in front of the bulls holding a long stick while Angel managed the plough, a job that he says makes the bicep in the arm that guides the plough really tired. I can well imagine. Anyway, it was sort of my job to use the stick to whack the bulls on the snout to turn them around at the end of the furrow, or get them straightened out if they went off track. I wasn’t at all good at this, but Angel was surprisingly patient and I did get better over time. And I only took one head butt. The word for this in Spanish is “embestiar,” a term I find particularly satisfying due to its inclusion of “bestia,” “beast.” Angel became concerned near the end of the job that the bull was determined to really get me, and he had his very pregnant wife Gladys come down to finish the job. The bull wouldn’t dare embestiar her, believe me. If I’m feeling ambitious, I took photos of some of this contour plowing, and you’ll also get a glimpse of Joaquin, who has been mentioned in quite a few of these entries.

Angel with the contour level

Joaquin and Angel and the Tolte Bulls

It was now much later than I expected, about 4 in the afternoon, but I went after one more visit with Cristian, one of the AVANTI becarios who has not had enough money beyond the AVANTI grant to continue his studies, his wife, Laura, who actually was the one who invited me to visit, and their little boy, Ariel, who looks so much like Laura that seeing them together makes me laugh out loud. I learned only this week that Cristian is only 21 and Laura a mere 19, which produced more culture shock than it should have. In any case, they took me down to pieces of land owned by Laura’s grandmother and Cristian’s father. Cristian’s father’s land was a very micely laid out orchard, with ample spacing between trees and the healthiest looking trees and fruit that I have seen here, which I think shows the importance of adequate spacing, an idea I have been trying to deliver for a while.

While the orchard was quite nice, the piece of land belonging to Laura’s grandmother was absolutely fascinating. The land is incredibly steep—we seemed to be descending into another world. But the otherworldy effect was compounded by the incredible mix of fruit trees and ground crops that covered the hillside. It was like being in a food jungle, or “food forest,” as the permaculturists say. It appears that Laura’s uncle and grandmother cooked up this way of working more or less by chance, starting with small fruit trees and planting other crops to cover the soil and give some kind of yield in the meantime. The result is that this farm produces citrus, avocadoes, bananas (very unusual here), spinach, parsley, chamomile, and dozens of other medicinal and leafy ground plants. I wish everyone in Tolte could have a farm like this. I know that Rafael will be thrilled when he sees it, and spend the rest of his time here trying to figure out why no one else works this way.

This week will see me out on more farms, doing the best I can to save Tolte’s soil, as I also teach English to as many people as possible. This is why I insisted that AVANTI give me nine months—it has taken me six just to get to this point, and I think I could be really effective for at least another six. But I’ll settle for the remaining three. On the other hand, people are starting to ask me to look for a way to stay here, and I’m considering it. Life here is, after all, really good. And now I’m off to jam Ecuadorean music with Don Luis. Music, soil, teaching—it’s true, there isn’t much else to want, except a predictable salary based on recognizable work. And maybe that’s attainable…

Ah, I didn’t post this right away, and now more things that are closely related have happened, so I’ll just toss them in. Rafael and Geraldine went to the Colegio Tecnico with Carlos on Monday, and met with the Forestry teacher there. He has a nice little tree nursery, and he immediately offered to show up with a bunch of students and plant the windbreak, with a few agroforestry trees for shade in the middle of the field. He wanted to come today (Friday, March 16), but the directora of the colegio put the kibosh on that. No, the students were too busy this week, and next week is exams, so we’re inviting them for the week of the 26th. I’ve also asked them for enough trees for a piece of land where I proposed a windbreak a couple of weeks ago. We also had to write a letter officially requesting the trees in the name of AVANTI.  Elvia is now correcting our crudely worded letter into the excruciating official language of such letters, and we hope to get it to the school by means of one of the students on Monday. I have to admit, I’m enjoying having Rafael and Geraldine around. First of all, they strike people as even more “gringo” than I do, probably only because they’re newer. They’re also fun to be around, and know how to get things done. I really shouldn’t have questioned their arrival.

Also, two things make me notice the passage of time. The first is that my computer has informed me that Daylight Savings Time has returned to the United States. I suppose that means that I’ve been here a while, since I was already here when Daylight Savings time ended in the fall. Also, the weather seems to be changing, perhaps prematurely. We know longer have daily fog and rain, although the rainy season is not due to end until the beginning of May. I hope that we’re not looking at a drought, or all the trees in the windbreak will be reduced to withered sticks.