The REAL Reason

I’m well into my third week here in beautiful Cuenca and boy, does it feel like I’ve been here an eternity. I’ve laughed and cried so much more than I’ve ever had in a span of two and a half weeks. Traveling sure does make you both doubt yourself and believe in yourself at the exact same time.

So. Many. Emotions.

Some of you may know my reason for coming here in the first place. It was to speak Spanish, and to work with children. What some of you may not know is the fact that on the first day, after I took my placement test, I had an interesting conversation with Maria, the school secretary. After she assigned me my classes, she gave me a welcoming smile and was about to send me on my way. That’s when I proceeded to ask her about the volunteer work I was supposed to be doing as well; the one that the study abroad agent and I had talked about via email; the one that had a big pull on my reason for choosing Cuenca above the other Latin countries. Maria looked at me funny and said there wasn’t anything in my description about volunteer work. What’s more interesting is the fact that she told me there wasn’t a street program at all. It didn’t even exist.

You know that saying that goes something like, “The worst thing you can do is nothing at all”

Mmmm I did the worst thing. I did nothing at all. Nothing!

And, come to find out, this was way more of a study abroad program than I had previously realized. Among the list of things to do included: a museum a week, cooking classes, dance classes, movie nights, and weekend excursions.

Not what I was expecting, but it all sounded so wonderful! So, why am I having so many doubts? Why on earth am I so homesick? Two months is NOTHING in the span of a lifetime. Yes, my heart is beating faster and my eyes sure are open wider than ever, but the whole brave bit….....God?

I’ve always had this idea in my mind that God’s work can be done anywhere. I mean…God is everywhere, and it’s evident in His creation: the people we meet and the natural wonders we see. If I wasn’t going to be working in the streets, there are more subtle ways I can be purposeful right?  

I had my first “purposeful moment” about a week and a half ago. Or so I thought. So I thought……

My host mom is a believer. That being said, she believes in God, but she doesn’t believe we need to read His Word – The Bible.  A couple of things she shared with me:

-The Bible is too subjective and too hard to understand. 

-I don’t believe in “sin” or “repentance" unless I hurt someone. Then, I ask him/her for forgiveness. 

-Church doesn’t interest me, because men have made it into something it's not. 

-We are here to enjoy life, to be happy, and to help others.

-I serve God everyday by what I do for students. I house them and feed them, and I enjoy doing it. This is my service to Him. And He is with me. (She absolutely rocks this)

My host mother is a philosopher to say the least. She has read several books about life, and how to be happy, but she doesn’t want to know what the Bible says because of its subjectivity. I love my host mom. She is wonderful and one of the most giving people I know. And in that moment, I wanted to tell her so many things. My mind was racing as I translated all my English thoughts into Spanish words. This was a God moment, and I remember standing there wondering what exactly I needed to say. I kept thinking about how I wasn’t prepared for this….how I needed to know more Spanish to go deeper (this was the first time I had a conversation like this in Spanish) and how I needed more Bible knowledge to prove it’s worth. Wait, I needed to prove it’s worth? Wait…that sounds all wrong….ahhhhhhhh WHAT AM I DOING???

And that is still my question. I asked myself the same question as I walked around the Quito airport wondering what I would do all night. And here I am again with the same question, still unanswered. Am I here to speak as much Spanish as possible and learn how to cook Ecuadorian meals while practicing my dancing skills as well? I’ve traveled before, so why is being here harder than any other place I’ve been to? Does that mean something is missing? Did my host mom hear me?  

The MAIN reason I came here was to practice Spanish while helping others.

Should have been the other way around huh?

“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

-Matthew 28:19-20 

Mission Impossible

 Treble, Chocolate, MediaNoche, and Aventurera. Those were their names….and ride on we shall! I haven’t ever been much of a horseback rider, not because I don’t like it, but because I have just never really been around horses. However, I have to give much credit to these four horses, because they did what I thought to be impossible. Let me tell you the amazing story! Hehehe.

Mission Impossible takes place in the mountains that surround a quaint little city called Vilcabamba. A mouthful isn’t it? I kept saying Vilcaboomba. It took me the whole weekend to get the name right.

These are my companeros that took on Mission Impossible with me. They never left my side. The chica in the middle is my beautiful German friend, Christina whom I will miss greatly for the next six weeks of my stay in Cuenca. More on Christina later. The boy to her right is the famous Simon…And finally, the boy to Christina’s left is a Swiss chico by the name of Reto.

We, as a team, decided we wanted to go horseback riding for our first day in Vilcabamba. The lovely hostel we stayed at had a binder full of activities. One activity would have us riding horses up a mountain for about three hours. Then, we were to climb the rest of the way on foot, and finally, ride the horses back down for another two hours. Lunch would be included, and we would even stop at a waterfall to swim. Perfect.

Little did I know, I was about to participate in one of the most challenging exercises of my life! It’s Tuesday, and I’m STILL sore.

Christina started out behind me. This is us preparing for our journey up the mountain. I turned and excitedly took a picture ready for whatever lay ahead of us. Goodness gracious, I really have to work on that. I think I’m too much of a dreamer. Maybe I should be more of a realist. Horses CLIMBING a mountain. Why didn’t it dawn on me that not only was this going to be a breathtaking experience, but that it could also be a life-taking experience as well?!

Unfortunately, I don’t have pictures of the climb. It may have been because I was too afraid to take my camera out for fear of falling off my horse, which would consist of me falling off a mountain as well. You guys, I have never seen slopes that steep before. The pathway up the mountain was tiny and the whole time, I kept wondering to myself how the horse would fit in between the sides of the mountain. We were probably climbing for maybe a minute when Simon’s horse suddenly stopped. The horses were in a line basically on top of each other, so you can imagine what this looked like when Simon’s horse (the one directly in front of mine) gets its foot caught in the rope. It could not move, and we were going uphill, so we were at a slant….stuck. I kept telling Simon that his horse was stepping on the rope and therefore couldn’t move his other leg to climb the rocks. Simon could not pull the rope free, and our guide (who was the last one) had to get off his horse and climb up to Simon to free the horse’s leg. And this was all after about a minute into the climb…

The rest of the way was equally SCARY. At one moment, Christina’s saddle completely slipped off her horse. Now Christina was two horses in front of me, and we were also on an incline. As her saddle slipped backwards, the pull caused the horse to slide backwards as well. Friends, I looked up to hear Christina yelling something and then I saw her horse heading straight for Simon’s and then mine. My heart literally stopped.

Our guide jumped off his horse and again came to the rescue. The horse managed to stop before it crashed into the others. Christina was okay, just a little dirty from the fall. My prayers continued…..

Before we got to the point where we would begin walking, one more thing happened that had me actually screaming. Yes folks, screaming. It rains a lot in Ecuador, and a lot in the mountains of Ecuador. So…there was quite a bit of mud. And, how hard is it to climb a mountain in the mud? Slippage is inevitable no matter how well-trained the horse is! Simon’s horse slipped first, then mine began to slip, and I could hear the horse behind me begin to slip as well. I was in the middle and at this point, it was a decline…so in my mind, I saw my horse falling into Simon’s horse while Reto’s horse fell into mine. I surely did scream!!!! I couldn’t stop myself. Being on a horse is scary enough, but when it starts slipping in mud down a mountain surrounded by other horses, it’s hard not to loose it!

BUT THEY DID IT. They pulled themselves together and continued walking downhill breathing heavily. I felt so sorry for the horses. They were SO tired and working so hard for us. My horse’s name was Treble and in all honesty, I really think it was the best one.

Okay, despite all the screaming and heart stopping moments, the view was absolutely BEAUTIFUL. I looked around in awe at the surrounding mountains coming short of breath every so often. I had never seen landscape so incredible, so green, and right in front of my eyes. Dear God, I truly do stand in awe of You and Your creation of this world.

Here, we finally stopped to give the horses a break.

And this is what we saw.

Though the camera doesn’t do justice. At all.

Before we began the rest of the climb (via our feet), we stopped for our lunch. The guide pulled out of his sack some cheese, some guacamole, and some bread. He began to cut the cheese (hehehe) with a random knife that he pulled out of his pocket. He sliced it and I am a woman with a small fear of germs and so I thought to myself, “Self, what else do you think he has cut with that knife?” But, I ATE EVERTHING. I was too hungry to worry about it and everyone else was eating it so…..

After lunch, we began our climb to the waterfall. We slipped, we fell, we laughed, and we held on to any and everything for dear life. God was with us. That’s the only thing I can say. At one point, I was on my booty with my hands in the dirt crawling though a tunnel of weeds and branches, sliding around in mud trying to get a foothold. Another thing I can say, I was dirtier than I had ever been before.

Christina was brave enough to jump in the water once we reached the waterfall. I would have jumped in as well except I didn’t have my suit on at the moment. And, I knew we had a LONG way to go.

You go Christina. She laughed at me so many times and told me she was going to make a country girl out of me. What’s funny is that I’m not a city girl either. Ah, what am I?!? Christina probably is the most adventurous person I know. She is fearless. I envy her.

 The picture below is us climbing the mountain. Though it doesn't look like it, it was extremely steep, and at times, there was a section of rope tied to a tree or rock which we used to pull ourselves up the mountain. I was shaking and sweating and a mess. Much like the time I almost missed my flight to Panama City! Except this was much worse.

Again, you can’t tell, but if Christina would step to the left even just a little bit, down the mountain she would go. (Below)

 And if our horses stepped to the right just a little bit, down we would all go! (Above) This was on our way back. We had to go back the same way we came. By this time, my legs were aching from walking and being in a saddle. But I was loving every moment. (Looking back on it anyway)

        
                                                    Vilcabamba at night.

This picture I took after it was all said and done. It was my last night in Vilcabamba. It was one of the most memorable experiences and I will probably carry it with me for as long as I live! I wish I could share the sights with you. I wish you could look inside my memory to see what I saw. And, I also wish that you could meet Christina. Sadly, I have cried several times thinking about how I will probably never see her again. You know, along with moments like the mountains of Vilcabamba, there are also moments that you share with a friend that leave a little print on your heart. Moments that were so short and only lasted a few days, but they’re the memories that last a lifetime. How I wish she were here for longer…

                                        Goodbye Christina. Que Dios te bendiga. 

Summer Fling

No worries! Not happening. But, it sure does seem to be the topic of discussion everywhere I go. And an interesting topic it is…

It actually started a little bit before I left for Cuenca when a certain someone found out that my host mother has a rather close to my age son, not to mention the fact that the boy from Switzerland who also lives here has already found himself an Ecuadorian lover.  (By the way, I didn’t know about him until my host mother told me at the Cuenca airport.) My question is, “how????” How does one actually find someone in six weeks? And what’s more, how can someone allow it to happen when there will be an inevitable separation in the very near future?

Don’t worry readers, I won’t get too personal with you nor am I feeling any need to have a summer fling! I just think it’s interesting to watch it happen and listen to how it needs to happen for me as well. Sonia says I need to “live in the moment.” She has said it on more than one occasion….

Let me introduce you to Sonia. She is my host mother and she is a doll. I was actually a little worried about Sonia after my first day here in Cuenca, because she is SUPER organized and is always and forever cleaning and cooking. I get tired just watching her. She cleans the whole house every morning, then cooks our lunch, then cleans again, and makes us take off our shoes to put on slippers so we don’t dirty the house. She is super woman. 

However, despite her strict cleaning schedule, she has an attitude about life that I wouldn’t quite match with someone of her mad (mad as in amazing) organizational skills.

It was probably Tuesday of this week. She sat down at the breakfast table with me and since I, too, love to talk about romantic things, we began to have a conversation about love. Okay, maybe I WILL get a little personal with you, but it’s no secret to anyone who knows me. I’m a hopeless romantic. But what doesn’t quite work so well for me is the fact that I’m a hopeless romantic with really high expectations of what I think love should look like. I have had this conversation with SO MANY people, and now let me go ahead and express myself to everyone else who may know me! Basically, I have created this idea in my head that when the time is right (IF there is a time, because I know that it might not be in the cards for me), I will know it. It won’t be something stressful, it won’t be something painful, and there will be no doubt as to whether or not I want to spend the rest of my life with this guy. And I most certainly won’t have a constant battle in my mind as to whether or not he loves me.

J Go ahead. Feel free to giggle with me. Sonia definitely disagreed. She was like “No way, Tina. You’ve got it wrong.” You see, Sonia has a bit of a different view on love. Her words exactly, “Love is giving, not receiving.”

Now, I’d hate to think that I have had a selfish view on love this whole time, but Sonia said my idea was “tonta.” Tonta? Hmmmm please tell me more Sonia, because I’m not tonta!!!

She proceeded to tell me, “Do what makes you happy. If you’re interested in him, then give of yourself without expecting anything in return. Don’t even worry about how he perceives it.”

Okay. This was a bit confusing for me. In my opinion, that means I shouldn’t wait for him (hypothetical boy!) to respond, or even continue to initiate conversation. Right? Just keep on keeping on? Because it makes me happy? Because I'm living in the moment? 

Exactly!

That’s exactly what she was telling me! Ah! Mind blowing! Maybe it really is as easy as that? Am I really closed like my host mom says I am???

 “And when my heart is broken, Sonia? When it doesn’t work out?”

“Then you move on, Tina. But, at least you’ll have experienced. You’ll have felt, and you’ll have lived. Everyone has his or her own definition of love, but you cannot place that definition on anyone else. Don’t have expectations. That’s not love. Love is giving what you have, without fear. Open your heart.”

Now my friends, do I agree or disagree? What shall I do with this newfound perspective on love? Of course, I agree with my lively host mother on some things and it was a wonderful opportunity to get to know the real her. And she definitely reminded me that expectations can be very negative. Can I even live up to my own expectations? I can’t. But, there is a fine line to cross (or not cross) when it comes to love, and Sonia has helped me see that line a little clearer whether I agree or disagree with her. One of the advantages of meeting new people – hearing what they have to say and sharing it with others. Wonderful food for thought…..

Tina’s First Impressions of Cuenca List

Good Cuenca List:

1.  My host house. I have a cozy little upstairs room that sort of looks like a loft with a window looking out into a garden. Love it.

2. My Spanish teachers. Lucia and Olympia. They really know their grammar. Love them. 

3. Being surrounded by mountains. Did you know that mountains surround Cuenca? Love that.

4. The juices. Passion fruit and blackberry and other fruits whose names I can’t remember…..love good juice drinkin’.

5. The fact that the national currency in Cuenca is the American dollar! Okay, I realize I should have already known this about Cuenca and I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t know it until the day before I left. So if you decide to travel to Cuenca…..say that it was me who gave you the currency knowledge.

Bad Cuenca List:

1. I almost get run over every single day. The traffic is insane! The cars don’t stop…actually they speed up so you will quickly move out of their way! And honk their horn to let you know they’re comin’. Not a fan.

2.  THE WEATHER THE WEATHER THE WEATHER. It rains EVERY DAY and when it rains…it’s COLD. But…then….for a glorious moment, the sun will peek out and then all of a sudden it’s hot. Of course, it goes away and begins to rain again and the temp drops. It’s June and everyone is in winter clothes. What? Not a fan of winter.

3. The sun goes down at 6. (when there is sun, but basically, its dark at 6)

4. Anyone know what a “Tiburón” is? It means shark in English. And it’s a term here used for….certain types of men. I’ll let you figure out the rest. Hehehe.

5. The altitude. I went running this morning for the first time since I’ve been here, and I was doubled over before I finished a mile. I can’t breathe in this high of a city! Shameful. 

Frozen in Quito

Question 1: WHY IS IT COLD?

Question 2: Why am I STILL in Quito? Oh the joys of traveling. I don’t know how I feel about those peeps who believe that “getting there” is half the fun. What I want right now is to be warm and in bed.

Here’s what went down. I began my Ecuadorian journey Saturday night/Sunday morning when I woke up at 2:30 a.m. I really do consider myself a pretty punctual person despite my Latin background, however, my punctuality did not pay off this time around.

My flight was supposed to leave from DFW to Houston at 6:30 am. So my amazing and most wonderful friends got up at the crack of dawn with me to take me down to DFW. (They rock my world)

Well…the first delay was already upon me and I arrived in Houston with about 4 minutes to SPRINT to my next gate, which happened to be the distance equivalent to that of China from the U.S. Not to mention, I had my heavy carry-on with me. As soon as I stepped off the plane in Houston, the announcement comes on “LAST CALL FOR ANYONE GOING TO PANAMA CITY!” Or something like that. So I swung my backpack around and ran like a mad woman. I think people actually laughed at the sight of me with my panicked/confused face running in circles looking for that awful Gate E. By the time I was sitting in my seat on the plane, I was shaking and sweating and out of breath. I was a mess.

Upon arriving in Panama City, I felt my first real level of discomfort. I felt far away from home. The sight of the airport didn’t help. And there the doubtful question began...“What on earth am I doing?” 

Little did I know, that question was an understatement or I guess you would call that an underquestion? As I arrived in Quito, several things confused me.

Why was I filling out an immigration and custom form when I still had one more flight to go? Why did I have to go get my bags and recheck them in and then go through security again? Why is this Quito airport so hard to stinking navigate? Where is check-in? AND WHY IS THIS LADY TELLING ME THAT THE GATE IS CLOSED?????

Ladies and Gents, I officially hate airports. As you may have guessed, I missed my flight to Cuenca. The hard part to swallow, I missed it by 5 minutes. This lady telling me this was not mean…and I’m a Christian…and I STILL wanted to punch her. Of course, I didn’t want to punch her as much as I wanted to kick the man who led me around the entire airport for nothing. HE seemed to find the whole situation humorous.

I really have to watch out for times like this. For those of you who know me well, I know you’d agree that I can be pretty emotional. Often. And I was so tired, and still hadn’t eaten, and just wanting to see my host mother, and frustrated with the fact that I couldn’t understand everything that was happening around me. I found it hard to explain my situation in Spanish and well….that’s why I came here, so that expressing myself in Spanish becomes a cinch (sp?). But survival mode is scary when you don’t feel 100 percent confident in getting the message across. I’ll get there. I know it. It’s just a lot for one day.

Ok ANYWAY, all that could be done was to purchase another ticket. So, I did. And now I can join many others in saying that I have had the luxury of trying to sleep but not sleep in an airport all night on the hard ground with all my luggage under me, with my arms trying to touch everything so that no one steals anything with a sad little lost puppy look AND freezing cold because at night, it’s freezing in Quito!!! For those of you English majors, yes I know that was a run-on sentence, but it was a rough night!

(I started this blog the morning before I arrived in Cuenca. I am finally currently in Cuenca needing desperately to do my Spanish homework before lunch at one, a museum at 2, and then class at 3. Until then…..)

LOVE LOVE LOVE

The Reason

Confession: Traveling terrifies me. I’d absolutely love to think I am one of the brave ones…one of those that God calls to go to faraway lands to spread His word. But…wanting to be brave and being brave are two very different things!

I remember the first time I mustered up enough courage to go aborad. I was a wee little sophomore in college on my way to spend a semester in the bustling Latin city of Montevideo, Uruguay. I had been a bit ill from nerves and kept asking myself if I really wanted to study in a foreign country.

And now…5 years later, I hear that little voice in my head again telling me it’s time – that it may be the last time for a LONG while.

Sooooo why you ask? What’s the real reason I’m getting on a stinking 3 layover/four plane trip to South America? (And that’s just on the way there)

You already know why! Is is not because I’m in my prime (that’s what people are telling me anyway) and still semi-young and because we only live life once so we gotta grab it by the horns and stress our parents in the process?

Yes.

But also, there’s something about traveling that makes my heart beat faster and forces my eyes to open a little wider. I think maybe God sometimes calls us to reach for more – always for His glory.

So my friends, Cuenca, Ecuador is my destination. I wouldn’t call myself brave, because I fear the unknown and sometimes let my doubts get the best of me, but I do want to see more. And of course, I’m in desperate need of practicing my Spanish!

Wish me luck. Day one begins tomorrow. 

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience”

-Scope Magazine :)