I'm Back!

Maybe you can’t go home again, but at least I have gone to Tolte again, and I’m mighty glad to be here. On the one hand, everything is just as I left it, sort of: same long bus ride from Quito, same difficulty getting the bus to stop at Tolte when we approach from the north (why this doesn’t happen from the south, I’ll never understand), same ring of mountains looming above us, same unpaved road into town, switching over to paving blocks in the center, same boys playing “indoor” in the plaza.  On the other hand, everything looks strikingly different from when I left. The dry season is now in full force, and all the green has faded to a straw-colored yellow everywhere I look.

As usual, when I needed to see someone, he appeared. I got off the bus with all my baggage, including my guitar, computer, handy backpack, and new army surplus duffel bag. Years ago, I swore I would never travel this heavy. Now it seems unavoidable. I did manage to cover the two or three hundred yards that the bus overshot my stop, but I was starting to wonder if I hade the Tolteno load-carrying fortitude to make it all the way to Francisco’s house, where I’m staying for now. At that moment, Dani and Fausto appeared on a motorcycle. I think they were more surprised to see me than I was to see them. They took my duffel first, which made walking down the road a lot easier. But then Dani came back for me. We know from previous episodes that I’m not a person who trusts his coordination too much, but there seemed no choice but to throw my computer over my shoulder with my backpack, and hang on to my guitar as I struggled my way on to the motorbike. I didn’t even fall off before we arrived at our destination.

I had intended to arrive earlier in the day, but Carolina was not able to meet me as early in the morning as I had hoped. When I got to the Avanti office at 11:30, I was astonished to find the place full of bright young men doing smart looking work on computers. They even have specializations, though I’m not clear on exactly how that works. It looks like Terrence and Juan Carlos focus on research and planning while Esteban handles event planning. This is a big change from when Avanti was Carolina alone, and the whole enterprise seems much more vibrant and exciting.

Carolina and I talked for about two hours about our hopes and dreams for Tolte. It appears that this year, my role is going to go far beyond English teacher to include the acme of the new international development model, social entrepreneur. This is going to be hugely challenging for me. I’ve never really been a business person. I don’t know how to write a business plan and carry it out. This is not to say that I’ve never had a business idea, but going over the wall to make it happen never occurred to me. But here is a situation that may melt my opposition to capitalism. I’m not doing this for myself, but so there will be steady employment for the next generation of Toltenos. As always, this blog is meant to be a place where I can solicit the help of my few, or should I say, “hand-picked group,” of readers. Those of you with business experience, I need you desperately.

And I do have some ideas, although they are not entirely my own. Or maybe none of them are my own, but they seem pretty good to me. I was introduced to a woman named Florence in Port Washington, coincidentally married to an Ecuadorean, who told me to stop thinking about exporting farm products and export craft items instead. She emphasized that her customers want items that are “authentic” and “natural.” Maya also emphasized the start-to-finish aspect of what people regard as a true craft product these days. So my first thought was that the existing artesania group, which sells knitted items in the train station, could start spinning their own yarn out of llamingo wool, and knit it in its undyed state for an all-natural, organic product (yes, my mother actually pointed out an ad for extremely expensive organic clothing in the New York Times Magazine.)

The second idea revolves around the ambitions of Tolte’s luthier, Don Vicente, leader of the Evangelical Christian folkloric band, of which I form a small, but weird, part. One day, Al (he who calls himself Pierce) was out visiting his friend Mike in Port Jefferson, so I went out there, too. I got into an interesting discussion with Mike Sr., without question the most entrepreneurial person I have ever met. He asked me what we could export out of Tolte that he could sell. I suggested musical instruments, hand-made in Tolte. He liked this idea, and asked me to pursue it. I like the idea, because if it worked, a guitar factory in Tolte would be both a source of employment and a tourist attraction. And Carolina liked the idea, too. Now I just have to find out if Vicente has any interest in doing something like this at all.

The final, and by far most grandiose, idea was courtesy of Tom Hastings, who does development work for the College of Natural resources at UMass Amherst. I had made a little donation to the Student Enterprise Farm, a brilliant student-initiated and run project where the students actually learn what it means to run an organic farm as a business. When I made my donation, I was invited to visit, and I surprised myself by actually doing so. I have to say that Tom treated me like visiting royalty. While we were chatting over the nice lunch he treated me to, I described the tourism situation in Tolte. The problem is that although tens of thousands of tourists a year take the Nariz del Diablo train ride, none of them makes it into Tolte. The train ride is organized so that the tourists have only an hour and a half in the station, and then have to go back on the same train. Tom’s answer? “Build a cable car.” Absolutely brilliant. If Avanti pulls this off, will be on the social entrepreneurship map for sure.  Yesterday I got a look at the likely route from Tolte to the station, and while I’m not 100% sure that such a thing could be built, it would be absolutely spectacular.

But for me, what is truly spectacular about Tolte is its community of people. When I go home to States, there are certainly people who are happy to see me, but they are few and far between. Here in Tolte, everyone has welcomed me back not only with warmth, but a kind of joy. My coming back seems to make them feel loved and appreciated, emotions which they amply return to me. Naturally, this also led to a semi-spontaneous welcome home party of the classic Tolte style, but I managed to substitute a bottle of duty-free Jack Daniels for trago this time. It is possible that Pilsener beer makes a better chaser for trago, though.
So now it’s time to get started. I’m living with Francisco and Elena until I can move back into Ramon’s house. Ramon is home again and has brought his children with him, so I may have to wait until they leave a few weeks from now before I move in. On the other hand, during the heat of the fiesta last night he was quite insistent that I move in now. So that may happen sooner than I expected. I also need to get my keys back from Elvia, but I will no longer have the same kind of computer access that I did. The infocentro that I thought would never open did open on the day I left New York. I had always said that it would never open during my first stretch in Tolte, and it didn’t. I think it’s funny that it did finally open when I returned. Anyway, I’ll have the same Monday to Thursday infocentro access as the rest of Tolte. I also bought a wireless connector for my own computer that I can use anywhere, anytime, as long as I have enough megabytes in my account to support my connection. I hear that this thing works better than the infocentro, but recharging it may be a nuisance. Reaching me may take some planning.

Now it’s Saturday, and enough has happened that I think I ought to write it down before I forget. I am sitting in my room in Ramon’s house, because the move really did occur right away. Somehow, there is a spare room downstairs, which has the distinct advantage of being right next to the bathroom. I always hated having to find my way down the stair in the middle of the night.

I have also had a conversation with Vicente about the guitar business. He needs equipment, and that’s going to take an investment that is sizeable by Tolte standards. But he thinks that he could employ perhaps five helpers if the business gets moving, which is to say making a guitar a week. I’m a little less worried about him making a guitar a week than I am about finding someone to sell a guitar a week, but I’ve got some ideas about how we could get that going. I’ll have to see if I can make that happen. So much depends on my internet connection these days.

I also took a trip with the indoor team up to Iltus, a nearby village that I heard mentioned frequently last year, but never got to. Iltus is close to Tolte in highway terms, but is way up the mountain on the other side of the Inter American Highway. Iltus seems to be running on an economic model similar to Tolte’s, because you can see the large houses of people who have spent time working abroad surrounded by traditional adobe homes. The indoor team played against the Yuquillay team that I met at Tolte’s tournament last year and earned themselves a 4-4 tie. The Toltenos had plenty of chances to win, but the Yuquillenos are a good team and kept coming back. Everyone on the Tolte team managed to earn a yellow card, too. I think the referee called a good game, as far as I could tell. It looked as though the Toltenos were having a rough day to top off their rough night.

This evening I’ll practice again with El Grupo Winari, the folkloric Evangelical Christian musical group run by Vicente. Some readers have seen a picture of this group, but I still haven’t managed to get it in a form I can post here. We’ll see if I actually remember any of the songs he taught me. I sort of suspect that I don’t, so I’ll have to get up to speed quickly. We usually practice for hours and hours, so I’m going to have to find some source of energy to carry me along now that the Jack Daniels has run out.
In other words, all the things I think of when I think of Tolte continue to make me happy. I was saying to someone that living here is a kind of second chance for me to achieve some of the things I didn’t manage to do in my “first life” in the United States. I never really developed much of a social network there, but I do have a great one here. That’s a good start. With the raise that Carolina has promised, I’m going to be more well-to-do than I was in the States. I’ll have Ramon’s big house to myself. And I’m going to have to be a successful entrepreneur, at long last. It would certainly be nice to put this all together, even if it does seem a long distance from agricultural extension.

Quick last look around

I've started packing, a job I'll have to finish before I go to sleep tonight. I've got to catch an early bus out of here tomorrow morning, so I can get in Quito in time to have a meaningful conversation with Carolina about the past nine months and the upcoming school year. Yes, I'll be back. The job that I thought it would be sort of humiliating not to get didn't even think I was worth interviewing. It's a good thing that being the sort of international development worker that I am means never allowing yourself to admit that you've been humiliated. I'm not sure whether this implies that I will never be able to step up from what I am doing to the professional level, but it's too soon to admit defeat. I've got another guaranteed year here, which should provide enough time and additional experience to work from.

The days since my last entry have been dominated by school and the flu. I was about as sick as I can ever recall being on Monday, after two preliminary days of feeling lousy. Improvement was slight on Tuesday, but I felt almost back to normal by the end of the week. Still, it made it difficult to produce the kind of year-ending wrap up that every teacher hopes for. I did manage to finish reading "The Cat in the Hat" to my sixth grade class, and they enjoyed it very much. We struggled for understanding--it's amazing how you can work for a year to produce broad conversational skills in English and still find that your students lack such fundamental words as "know," "can," "then," and "should." It certainly leaves the door open for "Dave in Tolte Again: Second-year English."

I also was able to give each child a brief final conversation test on Friday, as they were filling their notebooks with the last words we learned this year, in the nick of time. Results were not, overall, thrilling. The best student in the seventh grade did respond correctly to everything I threw at him, which was nice, but not surprising. The second bast seventh grade student did so well that I raised her grade to a perfect 20, which was a little surprising. My sixth grade students, the best as a group, did quite well individually. The fourth and fifth grade didn't provide too much evidence of having learned very much, but I got decent responses out of three fifth graders and one fourth grader. A few kids who I really looked forward to talking to couldn't seem to understand questions they routinely answer correctly in class. Maybe my flu made me hard to understand, since it left me very nasal and hoarse.

The big question, of course, is what they'll remember next September. I'm cutting out a month early on the end of the school year, mostly because I'm needed at home right now, but also because of some confusion as to how many months of salary were available when I started. The kids will have to get by on what's in their notebooks, and speaking to each other in English, for three whole months. If they remember much in September, it will be a big surprise. I'd better start planning my review now.

Just so you know, the Padres de Familia de la Escuela give me a big send-off Friday afternoon, featuring home-made, home-raised chicken soup and, once more with feeling, guinea pig with potatoes. They also gave me a handsome picture of all the school kids, teachers, and me together, which I cannot show here because it's attached to a piece of wood. The meal was washed down with way too much trago afterward, which has slowed my packing progress today (Saturday, June 2). But can it really be coincidence that my last day teaching in Tolte coincided with the first New York Mets no-hitter? I think not--everything here turns up when you really need it.

Time to pack up my computer, my guitar, put my rubber work boots in storage, pack my duffle, and come back to my family for a while. Here are some people things I'll miss when I'm away:

• being called "Naichu Michu." Don't try it when you see me; your accent is wrong.
• Damsio's wit and wisdom. They don't call him "Alcalde" for nothing.
• being invited for 15 cents' worth of trago with my barber, Don Lucho
• playing guitar with Winari
• playing guitar with Don Sauce
• playing guitar with Estasis, better known as "La Banda de Miercoles."
• watching the children's folk dance class
• Chunchi on Sunday
• watching Bryan, a fifth grader the size of an Ecuadorean 5-year-old, play center forward for the kids' "indor" team
• speaking English with Rosalinda, my favorite student
• jogging in the Andes
• exchanging "Buenos Dias," "Buenas Tardes," and "Buenas Noches" with the good people of Tolte. 

It's no wonder I have to come back.

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.