Bella Julia - el verano de español

bellajulia @ 2004-09-17T10:57:00

2004-09-17T17:03:14Z

Just for the record, I did mean Miss Monroe in my last post. I think I may burn in hell now for mixing Marolyn Monroe up with Marolyn Manson... Oh, dear. I need more oxygen in the air. This high air doesn't do good things for me. (Neither does the mixup of names when one of them is very not blond...I'm making myself look bad...)

I started this entry about an hour ago and I just can't seem to write anything. You'd think on my last day here in my little internet cafe that has suddenly decided they hate to play old ghetto English music and now only have silence and the sounds of the worker's MSN that I would be more inclined to write about my experiences, but really, I think everyone pretty much understands how it was.

This trip has been amazing, but it has been difficult and draining at the same time. I've seen a lot, learned a lot, experienced a lot, but since I am not at home and am not back in the swing of things, I don't feel like I've been extremely altered like I did when I came back from Japan. I'm not sure I can be 'changed' like that again, seeing as how it was sort of life-altering in world views and everything, but...yeah. I think I'm rambling.

So yesterday I left to go meet my host father at 4:30 in front of Cimas. Except Latin American time refuses to let anyone get anywhere on time, so he didn't show up till five. I won't recount the number of honks, stops, and looks I recieved by strange men in cars, but let's just say I was happy to see my host father's bald head, because I get less looks or offers from strange Latino men when I am with my host father. We went to the market to go shopping and I bought another awesome painting. I also bought just about everyone else I know some sort of art because I have fallen in love with the work of Guayasamin and everyone should experience the love. It's not everyone's style, and I feel like Niki's taste for modern art is starting to wear off on me. (It's not exactly MODERN art, persay, but it doesn't look like it comes from Monet or Van Gogh.) So. Yes. I bought a lot of art and other stuff and didn't realize until this morning when I sat on my bed to count my money how much I spent, but really, it's for a good cause, and considering I didn't go to Otovallo (the huge market held on Saturdays an hour north of here), I think I did okay. I really wanted a painting of Quito, but couldn't find a small one I liked. In my house, we have gorgeous paintings that span entire walls of Quito with El Panecillo and Centro Historical dramatically captured in rays of yellow and orange.

But they didn't have any small ones. And my host father paid about 300 dollars for each of the paintings in our house whereas I paid another 10 for a second Guayasamin. Afterwards, we drove around and looked at Quito at night because it is gorgeous and makes me love the city all the more at night. I really do like Quito as a place, besides the fact I can't go anywhere without strange men talking to me, and it was fun driving around talking with my host father as night fell.

We had dinner and watched a really old movie about Tarzan in the Amazon. Now that movie is bad already in English, but the fact that it was dubbed in Spanish just made it all the more entertaining. During dinner we got talking about politics and other activities of my host parents in the past few decades and before I knew what was happening, my host father had pulled out five albums of pictures to go through. There was one full one dedicated to some political friends of his who are now the governor of the province where Guyaquil is, and another is the mayor of Quito. I didn't know they were so political, but they aren't as active anymore. Oh, and for the record, Ecuador has had 7 presidents in the last 4 years. I asked my host mother, who could tell me all their names. Supposedly, one was only president for two days.

¡Que triste! So I looked through these huge albums of pictures of the kids when they were little and all the different girlfriends my host brother has had. He's currently with a girl my host father doesn't like so much, and there has been no talk of a wedding. The other night at dinner when I asked when they were thinking of getting married my host father said something that made everyone start laughing, and Karla explained to me in English that it's a running joke in their family that Paul won't marry his girlfriend because, as she put it, 'he's already taken everything he'd get if he married her.' This started a conversation about sex in Ecuador, which is a taboo topic here, but considering my host sister is pregnant and not yet married, it was a little more open in my house. My host father asked me whether premarital sex was common in the United States and that here it wasn't normal, even though both of his children seem to go against that mold. In a country that is over 90% Catholic, I can understand why it is not exactly 'normal.' It is also common here for a boy to ask the parent's permission to marry a girl before he actually asks the girl. Hm.

After looking at the five albums, I went to bed and was asleep shortly after nine o'clock. Of course, going to bed as early as I do here, I was awake by 6:30, packed by 10:00, and heading to the internet place by 10:30. So here I am, wondering whether I should go home and try to repack, but not exactly sure how else I would manage to do it. I want to take both my back pack and duffle bag on the plane tomorrow, but am afraid it is not allowed. Of course, people do it, but still. So all my souveniers that aren't breakable are in my duffle bag and then my clothes are packed around one of my pictures, but my favorite picture is in my backpack with the other breakable pictures I purchased and Alicia's bowl. (Yes, a bowl.)

Now that I have been here for an hour and fifteen minutes, I am starting to get hungry and my attention is turning towards a candy bar I know my favorite bakery here has. And also to purchasing for mouthwash because in the States, it costs like 4.50 for a big bottle, and here a medium bottle is like 1.20. So I think I should stock up. So...yeah.

That ends my adventures in Ecuador. Or at least, from what I tell from Ecuador. I'll post once more when I get back to the States because I'm sure something exciting will happen today. For now, please return to your regularly scheduled work, life, and/or both.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-16T15:37:00

2004-09-16T20:59:03Z

Several things:

School is over. It ended today and I am glad. We talked a lot about current events today and got our Spanish teacher's opinion on assisted suicide, the death penalty, and environmental policy. I wasn't able to explain things as clearly as I would have liked, with the whole Spanish barrier and all, but it was still an intersting conversation.

I finished The Counte of Monte Cristo last night. That book is the coolest. Everyone should go out and read it. I enjoyed it immensely. Tonight I am going to the mall that supposedly sells English books, I hope I can find something good for the plane because I am out of reading material.

Gonzolo took us all out for lunch today to this restaurant called Crepes & Waffles. Wow, the US is missing out. That restaurant was the bomb. I got another Coca Cola Light bottle, but it's not as cool as the one I got in the restaurant Ben, Hannah, and I went to the first night in Venice. (After my parents got over the fact that we weren't lost in Tuscany...oh, to be lost in Tuscany...I can't think of a better place to be lost in.) Anyway. I had this crepe with chocolate, strawberries, and bananas and I don't think my stomach has been happier. Of course, I did endure 2 hours of students who I thought would need one last chance to impress me and change their opinions, but alas, it didn't happen.

Politics in Ecuador is funny. People go around in trucks with blowhorns screaming in Spanish about one politician or another. It's elections for mayors and governors in another few weeks here, and there was a political rally in Riobamba that jammed traffic for the entire afternoon. Something that is also different here is that the signs for politicians always have their faces - they are plastered everywhere. Taxis, phone polls, shop windows, etc. etc. In the U.S., we just get the lovely names with a big dose of red, white, and blue, but here we get faces to put with the names. Then again, Ecuador has 5 major political parties and has had about 12 presidents in the last 7 years. And to think that it is one of the most stable countries in South America...

So, in the 15 minute walk here, I only managed to get a few honks, a 'hello chica,' and a 'wowa linda.' Today in Spanish we also talked about how blondes here are noticed so much because of two reasons: the blond persona (thanks, Miss Manson) and the historical ideal about the conquistadora. When the Spanish arrived, the conquistador/a was on top of the social pyramid and it is a feeling that still exists in Ecuador today. Caucasians are looked on as 'superior' to other Ecuadorians because of the historical role they played. Interesting.

Haha. The politcal people are going by right now.

There is a sign on the way to my internet cafe that says 'Garden of Babies.' I'm amused.

Going downtown with my host father in about another 35 minutes. We're going to the market, to find me a good bottle of Argentinian wine Gonzolo can illegal carry through customs for me, and books in English. Have I mentioned how much I love my host family? I'm sure I have, but let me say it again: They are the coolest! And I have yummy jugo de piña to look forward to with dinner. I'm going to take them out to dinner tomorrow night and I hope we go back to the Crepes & Waffles place.

So, that's that. Tomorrow is my last full day in Ecuador and I'll be at the airport at 5 AM on Saturday morning to catch my plane to Texas. (Ha, who ever thought I'd be happy to be going to Texas?) I hope Hurricane Ivan doesn't pick Housten as it's next destination, then again, I don't really know where it even is right now because I get NO NEWS HERE. So I'll go check that out. Look for a post tomorrow. I won't shut up until I've left the Southern Hemisphere.

(And probably not even then.)

bellajulia @ 2004-09-15T11:53:00

2004-09-15T17:40:22Z

Oh, I love altitude. It's my best friend. I can't breathe and my medicine is a few kilometers away and the food we were cooking was making me sick and now I am here at the internet place with a bit of bread and chocolate milk in my tummy and feeling a bit better but I am bothered by American students and bothered by the amount of time I spend talking about them because they are dumb and therefore won't say anything more because they are dumb and not worth my energy or precious breath talking about.

So. Hi.

Okay, my computer is always on crack here. I will randomly hit some button I am not aware of and it will turn off. So I hit the power button because that normally turns it back on, and it will sit and blink at me for several seconds, then pop up exactly as I left it.

I don't get it. I miss Lance.

ANYWAY.

So yesterday I went home, had lunch, read more of The Counte of Monte Cristo (classical fiction shouldn't be this good!), and then left with my host father to go shopping downtown. I am always a little apprehensive about driving in Ecuador, because, to be honest, they make American roads look good, but yesterday was out of control. From the moment I got in the car I felt like I was on a roller coaster. It was CRAZY.

So we go zipping downtown, past the markets I thought we were going to, through a yellow light, down the wrong side of the road because there was a cement block in the way of our lane, and all of a sudden there's a policeman who had been directing traffic blowing his whistle and running towards our car.

Ooops. I had a feeling with my father's driving we would get pulled over, but I didn't think we'd get whistled over. They started screaming at each other in rapid Spanish and my host father is hanging half of his Buddha-like body out of his small VW Golf and the policeman is waving his arms and pointing at the road and the trolley which is stopped, watching the gringita and her Ecuadorian host father sit in the middle of the road and hold up traffic. My father handed over his license and registration, then backed up the car about a block and sat at the stop light fuming. When we got closer, he rolled my window down to talk to the police officer again who gave us back his information, smiled disgustingly at me, and then waved us through.

Apparently, there had been a change in recent weeks and the lane we were driving to drive in had been changed to a trolley only lane, and before it had been open to all types of traffic. Who knew? My host father was a tad embarassed, and admitted that in over 40 years of driving, that was the first time he has ever been stopped. And my host father was a truck driver and a deliverer for several years, so I was pretty impressed.

So we drove to the historical district and circled this block for about 20 minutes, randomly honking the horn. Apparently we were waiting for someone and when she finally arrived, it was revealed to be my host father's sister, and a woman who was very good at bartering. So, great, I thought. Let's go. But then we had to go to some other area in the historical center and wait for another 20 minutes to get some stuff put in the back of the car.

But finally, we were off! If I had known shopping was as much fun as it was, I would have gone sooner. But I think it was only that much fun because I was with two Ecuadorian people who refused to let the vendors take advantage of me, but instead, used me to my own advantage, talking about how it was unfair of them to charge that much because I was only a poor student, or asking the vendor how they could be so mean because I was their gringita and just look at my pretty hair!

I got a lot of stuff. And then the place flooded and I got wet.

We experienced quite the thunderstorm yesterday and water poured through the aisles of the market. We took refuge right where there was a rather large drip coming from the ceiling and waited for a good half hour, watching the vendors sweep the water out the door with brooms. I had purchased quite a bit (still need more) and were headed out after the storm because I was hungry and tired of standing around watching drips fall on my jeans. Then I found IT. IT being the coolest painting, even if it is not an original, of a painting by Guayasamin. He's the Hispanic painter famous for all the paintings with huge hands, etc. We studied him briefly in a Lectura Cultural during Destinos, but I adore this painting. I think I might buy another one just because I like them so much. And I got it framed and everything for ten dollars.

So that was my steal for the day. As we were driving away, we passed McDonald's and a wave of desire for fries, greasy food, and Coke came over me. Fortunately, because my host father is Buddha, he drove us to a local, less expensive hamburger restaurant and I feasted on fried chicken. Afterwards, my stomach felt like it would explode. More scary driving and my host father practicing his English on me later, we arrived at home. I bonded with my host mother for awhile before unpacking everything, putting my laundry away, and falling into bed with my book. I had the worst cramps from that dinner (or other things, who knows) I've had in a long time and felt like I was going to die. Nothing worse than rolling over for an hour or so, trying not to make noise because the pain is so bad, to make you realize just how much fried chicken from Ecuador probably isn't the best thing for you. (Yes, Mom, I took my Peptol Bismol but it didn't do a whole lot for me.)

Now I am here, 45 minutes later, and with an hour and a half more to go befor my next class. My professor is sitting next to me smoking and making my lungs hurt, and I look forward to the day I go back to the States where smoking inside is illegal.

I have another lecture this afternoon and then I am going home to write my paper about the differences in the Ecuadorian and American families. It will probably be pretty general, but only needs to be 3-5 pages and considering I'll be writing papers for the next three months anyway, this really shouldn't hurt me. Tomorrow I have my last day of school (FINALLY!) and Friday I am packing. Tomorrow I am also going back to the market with my host father to finish buying my stuff and I need to go to the bank, too. (Too bad that only takes like 10 minutes and still leaves another hour to kill. Maybe Gonzolo wants to get coffee.)

Two and half more days!!

As Mom said in her last e-mail, she hopes that I look back on this experience as a good one. And to that, I say, it will be hard not to. The things I have seen, the thoughts I have had, the people I have encountered (even those stupid Americans...), have all shaped a very enjoyable, if somewhat stressful, experience for me. It hasn't been easy, it hasn't always been fun, but is has been valuable, and in the long run, that's what really counts. I can walk away realizing what kind of lives the people who live in poverty might lead and go back to the States and realize that people who live in poverty there are more than just workers at McDonald's, or single mothers on welfare. (Because obviously, the only people in America who have problems with money would be women now, wouldn't they? Anyway. I won't get started on this morning's conversation about class and gender in America.)

I'm done. I think I'm going to take a literature class this fall instead of something that might help me figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-14T12:22:00

2004-09-14T17:29:58Z

Just for the record, I heart my friends with a big, fat heart.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, here are a few things I have noticed about life in Ecuador.

1. Colombia is pouring its sparse government funds into tourism. There is a commercial here talking about how you should take your girlfriend, wife, mistress, daughter, or anyone else feminine to Colombia because Colombia lives for her and wants to show her a good time. Considering it's practically suicide for an American citizen to walk into the country, or at least, according to my government, I find this commercial always amusing when the cheesy music comes on, singing, 'Vive Columbia, vive por ella...'

2. I like siestas at eight o'clock in the morning. I woke up this morning, felt okay, laid around, ate breakfast, felt really sick, took an hour nap, and felt better. So my solution? Not go to class at eight thirty and sleep instead.

3. If I have more piña, I might turn into the fruit. I had piña juice and piña slices for breakfast. Same goes for pan and hot chocolate.

4. I read when I get sick. I'm halfway through The Counte of Monte Cristo. And I had been SO good by not reading it! Then I get sick and I'm halfway done. Gonzolo says I should buy Harry Potter in español and read it on the plane because the story is familiar to me.

5. I went to sleep at eight o'clock yesterday and slept through the night until 7. If I wasn't at 9,000 feet I would think I'm depressed.

6. The Pepsi products they have are far and few between, and the 7UP I managed to grab for my stomach I now realize expired in June. Oops.

7. I still don't know what classes I want to take this fall.

8. The taxi I took home yesterday tried to charge me 2.00 for a mile ride. He didn't get it.

9. And of course, whenever I sit down to write about the odds and ends of life in Ecuador, I can't remember any of them.

10. Oh! There is one. All the women here must hate jeans with pockets in the butt. J.Lo would be quite popular if she walked around here, because every girl I see around my age, has pocketless, tight jeans.

I'm going shopping with my host father today to buy lots of souveniers because I have been lazy and only gotten a few here and there for people when I see things on my trips that remind me of them. In fact, I'm late. So I think I'll go and have lunch, use the baño, and go shopping with my balding, fat host father who would look like Buddha given the right positions.

A girl went home today because she missed her boyfriend. We had another girl go home a few weeks ago because she missed her husband. Now forgive me for not being sympathetic, but when you've been with a person for a few years, what really is a month's time span? I mean, I know it must be hard, but they talked on the phone everyday. If there was a family emergency, I'd understand. But really. I miss people. I miss my family. And I'm staying here till Saturday! I just don't really get it. Why pay all this money to go home and not recieve any credit for it?

bellajulia @ 2004-09-13T14:59:00

2004-09-13T20:13:49Z

Oh, baby. My day just got better and BETTER!

So I went over to the other internet cafe to finish my post and spend the rest of my coins for another measely half hour of internet. I don't like the second cafe very much, because they have very slow computers and service, and are a lot more expensive than here. I paid .60 cents for a half hour and could pay .70 cents for an hour here. Anyway. The guy came over RIGHT when my time was up to tell me to pay more or leave, and I hadn't finished 29 or so e-mails I had recieved, and was forced to leave right in the middle of Abbi's e-mail, so was sad and thinking about her as I hiked up the hill to find some change. I normally can get lucky and get change for a twenty dollar bill at the pharmacy, but they didn't have any and I was upset already, so I almost started crying as I walked home. I wanted to take a taxi, but again, no change, no luck.

I walked all the way home and told my host mom about my inability to find functioning internet and get change. She didn't think it was so hard to get change here in Ecuador, but I guess I've been going to the wrong places. I went to bed for an hour and a half, because when I'm asleep,l I don't have to think about anything. Then woke up for lunch, which was interesting. My host father is a fruitaholic, I swear. Last night when I got back he had to be sure to point out the three pineapples they had purchased over the weekend and he goes, 'For you!' Now love the piña juice here as I do, that shouldn't be a problem, but I'm only here for another four days, I can hardly be expected to eat 3 pineapples in that amount of time! It was rather humorous. Today at lunch, though, he had watermelon and kept offering me it, even though I told him I didn't like it. I finally took a small chunk, bit into it, and set it down, and my host brother who comes home from work for lunch goes, 'Oh, she really doesn't like it.'

Then when Paul got ready to leave, I think he pulled a random man off the street and then rang up the house on our intercom system that he had change for me. Not sure how he did it, but love him for it just the same. Stopped at the bakery on my way here and got a Sprite for my stomach and a Twix bar for my heart, and am now at the internet.

But still. When I was walking here, I felt like a chocolate blond cupcake with a sign that said, 'Please eat me.' I felt like I was in RioBamba, but unfortunately, at the moment I can't blame the actions on alcohol for any of the men involved.

So I was walking down the hill when I heard a car horn honk. Big deal. I hear them every single second of the day here. But then the honking doesn't stop and I look over to see this OLD, OLD, OLD guy (we're not talking 30 here, we're talking 60 or something) leering out his window and smiling at me. I start to walk faster and turn my head and he starts to drive slower and honk more! Then he beckoned me over with his hand and then started looking for a place to park!

So that was weird. I heard an 'Are you serious!?' in English and looked around to meet some hot American guy coming to my rescue, but only found an olderly man talking to his daughter. He looked at me and smiled and said, 'Sorry, I was talking to her,' to which I replied, 'Oh, that's okay. It's just that I hardly ever hear English spoken on the streets of Quito.'

I ignore the leering old man in his ugly truck and continue walking. After I cross the street to head towards the internet cafe, I have to walk past the Firestone Tire store. There was an old man I hardly glanced out who whistled at me and completely checked me out. I may get told I glare too much in the States, but it certainly works out well, because I stuck him with one of my bad scowls and he stopped whistling.

Then there was a group of guys walking across the entire sidewalk that I had walk around (I think Latin guys do that intentionally) and of course, they whistled and called out bad words in Spanish.

I would like to now be back on the UW campus where I can walk from Pathology to Denny without having a single guy even LOOK at me. (I may be bothered by my inability to be noticed on the UW campus occassionally, but right now, I really miss it.) But now, I am on the internet, I have a little bit of change, am going to take a cab home because I am tired of walking, and then will sleep more, write in my paper journal, and try to figure out everything I need to buy tomorrow when my host father and I go to a market. I just wish today was over.

I'm okay in Quito. I like Quito. I like my host family. This has been a very interesting experience and the excursions we've gone on have been amazing. I won't forget it. But it's time for school to start, and for me to move into my apartment, and to be up to date on world affairs. (I didn't even know there was a Hurricane Ivan!)

And I need to stop hitting the power button on this computer which is right underneath the delete button, which isn't actually the delete button on this keyboard. I miss my hot baby laptop.

Now I am off to change my fall schedule because I don't want to major in political science and I need to find a class I actually want to take. Or at least need to take to graduate. And American Politics just isn't it. Stay tuned for, hopefully, a cheerier update tomorrow, when the world likes me again.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-13T10:16:00

2004-09-13T15:30:18Z

Okay, I'm ready to go home.

I got back from the Oriente last night around seven o'clock. Had dinner with my family and then hot chocolate. Talked about their busy weekend. At eight, everyone was tired, so we went to our respective rooms in the house to unwind and go to bed early. I unpacked all my dirty clothes from my trip, did my nails, enjoyed being in a room with no tarantulas, listened to the fuzzy English radio station, and then went to bed. This morning, I woke up, played plumber with my toilet because it was retarded, took my drugs, took a shower, dried my hair, and then felt awful.

It was a feeling where I wasn't quite sure whether I needed to simply eat something, go back to bed and sleep, or throw up.

So, I threw up for the sixth or seventh time since I arrived on this continent and decided it was time to go home.

My host mother took care of me as best as she could, by making me gross tea they always give me when I get sick and forcing pan on me as if I would never be able to eat bread again in my life. I went back to bed for an hour, then walked to school. By the time I woke up for the second time this morning, I had decided it was once again my enemy: altitude. I took my medicine for altitude last night as we were driving up into the mountains, and felt fine for about an hour after I got up the first time this morning, but feeling like I did reminds me of the first morning I spent in Quito.

So I hate altitude, I want Sprite, and the music class I got out of my warm bed for was going to be held downtown in some obscure building only accessible by bus, and I refuse to take the bus again while I am in South America this time around. So here I am, at 10:20, on the internet.

Today I am going to sleep, eat pan, watch TV, and sleep some more. Tomorrow hopefully will be able to get me downtown to buy the rest of the things I need to buy because I don't have the energy, nor willpower, to get on a bus to go to Otovallo. I'd really like to go see that market, but it's just not going to happen.

Anyway. The Oriente. First, let me say, if you want to give any money to charity, you should donate some of it to the rainforest. Because it needs to be saved. I didn't know whether to feel angry or sad or simply both when we were driving down the mountains and the oil lines started to appear. It felt wrong to follow the pipeline for two hours, as we drove farther into the rainforest.

We got to our cabañas around lunchtime on Thursday. They were cute. We had lunch and looked around. Then we tromped off through the forest to learn about medicinal leaves and trees and see some bugs. (Did I see a lot of bugs this weekend? Oh, yes.) Our guide was named Lenny and said 'yah, okay?' a lot after an explanation. We walked through the forest, marveling at how tall the trees were and all the different shades of green you could see with one glance. We swung on a vine, forded a river, ate ants and other various foresty things, then got caught in a rainstorm and were absolutely soaked within five minutes. It had been raining lightly when we started our walk, but because we were on the floor of the forest, you couldn't feel it. Well, suddenly, you could.

Thursday night we listened to a shaman talk for two hours, which was interesting, except I was exhausted. Then we went to bed, got up on Friday morning to more rain, had breakfast, and met our canoe that was bright yellow, had a canopy, and a motor. Now, I'm not sure how this works considering the indigenous people are against oil companies, yet they use motors which require forms of oil to get from place to place. Just an observation.

We drove down river and went to a village where a group of indigenouss people live. They just got electricity 8 months before and were having a party that night which we got invited to. We watched a woman make chicha, which is corn beer, in her small hut with eight children about her and I was glad for the forms of birth control American women are priveleged enough to have.

After the village, we went to a museum about the kinds of traps people used before 'modern' civilization arrived and had lunch. Then we went to a wildlife refuge deep in the forest and saw monkeys, parrots, and other kinds of animals. It started to pour again, and we got caught in another rainstorm. It lightened up towards the end of the tour and everyone wanted to go swimming.

I'll pause here to talk about the river. It wasn't the Amazon River, but it was larger than I had expected it to be. The day we arrived, I had walked down to where we caught the canoe Friday morning, and there had only been small pools of water with some mud islands. The next morning, it was a roaring tributary and after the rainstorm on Friday, the water was even higher. I'm not sure I'd want to see what that place looked like during the wet season.

So we went swimming. And some girls thought it would be a good idea to walk way upstream and float down in the current. Sure, why not? I mean, what is all that rain, anyway? Obviously, it wouldn't do anything, like, you know, really strong or anything. So we walked upstream on these rocks which made me feel I was back home at 15, going creek walking with Alicia, and then jumped into the current to float down to where Antonio and Danny were waiting for us. And my internet is funky right now, so we're going to save the rest of the story after I have made sure I can still post this!

So, it posted, and I thought I was good, but then I lost my internet and half of the rest of Friday. So here we go again. I only have a half hour more because I'm down the street and out of change, and it is impossible to get a place like this to break a twenty. So, yeah.

We're floating down the river and I am almost out of the current, when I hear cries of 'help me, help me!' from a few different girls and then run almost right into Geneesha. I thought I was out of the current far enough to be able to help her, but when I grabbed hold of her and she stopped kicking, I felt the current take us out further. So I let go of her when I saw the boat going to rescue the people who were very far out and kicked myself to shore.

After three girls almost drowning because they don't know how to swim very well, we decided to go meet an anaconda. That was fun. I didn't hold it around my neck because I hate snakes, but I did get a picture with the alligator. That night, we ate dinner and then went to the party at the village, which turned out to be a beauty pageant of some Ecuadorian variety. We sat for two hours and watched some girls dance and play the 'gatherer' of the hunter-gatherer variety and become exceedingly bored. It was interesting, sure, but so sexist I couldn't even believe. Gonzolo left for a smoke break halfway through and offered to teach me how to smoke. I was just about take him up on his offer to save myself from dying, but decided to save my healthy pink lungs instead.

When we got back, Mr. Bug Man who was staying in the cabaña across from ours found a tarantula on our ceiling. I didn't get a lot of sleep that night, even if they are supposedly in every cabaña in the place. I hate big spiders with fur.

Saturday was also good. We motored up river through some scary rapids to a town, where we then took a bus further up, to hike up a freaking mountain in the middle of the afternoon to swim in a waterfall. While I felt like I had do die on the walk up there, swimming in the waterfall was definitely worth it, as was lunch sitting by the river. The Amazon humidity sure does great things for my curls. At dinner the night before no one had believed me I had naturally curly hair because it was pulled back and gross from our adventure in the river, and normally when they see me it's straight because I blow dry it. Well, as we sat in the hot sun for 40 minutes waiting for the bus, I gave some of our other curly haired students a run for their money. Everyone decided they really liked it, enough to convince me to perhaps try the curly haired thing back in Seattle. But I've never really liked my curly hair, and even if everyone else likes it better, if I don't, well, too bad.

We got back to the town, went to a butterfly place and got ice cream, then headed back to our cabañas. Saturday night was spent playing cards and playing pool. I actually played two games of pool, and even though they took forever, I can hold the stick now! Gonzolo said we'd play a whole game until we won, and was good as his word. And you know what else is freaky? Gonzolo worked for Pathology when he first came to the States! Ahhh! It's following me, even to the Amazon!

Sunday morning we went to a botanical garden which wasn't that interesting and then headed back. Lots of bus and now I'm here, since you already know about my morning. Now I must turn my attention to my e-mail, then go home and eat the soup I know is waiting for me. And a nap. God, I hate altitude.

Wednesday afternoon

2004-09-08T17:58:44Z

Okay, so my last post got me a long e-mail from my mother with the much needed pep-talk. I wrote in my paper journal last night that I knew my last post would get some sort of reaction out of her, as it did. So, thank you, Mom. I will try to have a better outlook on the people in my group then previously, but it's sometimes rather difficult when they don't have mothers as great as mine to remind them to be positive.

Yesterday, I went to a museum (those damn horns!) in downtown Quito. It was kind of a random museum because it started off very anthropological, with little displays about the different ethnic groups that lived in Ecuador before the Incas came and assimilated everybody, but then turned into a freaky art museum with some great religious pieces. It ended up with some modern art that I know Niki would have enjoyed. However, we weren't allowed to take our purses or anything into the museum, so I wasn't able to get pictures. After the museum, we grabbed a bus that goes past my school, but I wasn't sure how to tell the driver when I wanted to get off. I ended up getting in an argument with him about wanting to leave. He kept motioning me to sit down and I kept trying to edge farther towards the door. Finally, I just shoved by him and was free.

Free to breathe in the pollution of the city. Have I mentioned the pollution here? It's bad. Really bad. Whenever I blow my nose, it's all black and gross. So that sucks. Diesel here is pretty cheap, so all the buses use that, and with the way the city is situated on hills, it is hard for the air to escape. Not so bad when I walk back home because I leave the main road pretty early, but still. Lots of pollution here.

When I got home yesterday, I vented at my host parent's about the stupid el hombre del autobus. They laughed and offered me a 'small' glass of pineapple juice. Not sure if I have mentioned the juice in here or not, but oh, my gosh, it is to die for.

Of course, only the kinds I like. But everything is so fresh, a glass of freshly squeezed juice is a taste of heaven. My parents use bottled water, ice cubes, a bit of sugar, and the fruit. It's thick and frothy, and nothing like the crap all you people are drinking in the States. I don't think I can ever drink American juice again. (Well, maybe apple juice.)

So my host father wanted to make me pineapple juice because I absolutely love it. I went upstairs and they put on a bad soap opera that I am always amused by. The people in Spanish soap operas are worse actors than on American soaps, but they sure where less clothing. But I'm always amused by the cross hanging around their neck while they're wearing what looks to be a bikini top with skin tight leather pants. Cultures colliding, ¿no?

Anyway. The juice. He's making the juice and my host mom is fluttering around, a bit nervous about the man of the house being in the kitchen. She kept offering him all of these different kinds of pitchers, and he kept choosing the ones she hadn't offered him. It was cute. Then they gave me my 'small' glass of juice. You know those glasses you get at Spaghetti Factory when you order Italian sodas? Yeah. My small glass of juice was as tall as that, only about twice as wide.

Filled to the brim with jugo de piña.

I was a happy girl.

The food got better yesterday when I had FRENCH FRIES at dinner! I was quite excited.

Carlita dropped me off at school to go to Nocturnal Quito and I actually ended up having a good time. The two girls who bother me the most on this trip were both sick yesterday, so they didn't go, and while I definitely feel like the biggest outsider of the remaining people, it wasn't so bad. I guess I've just gotten so used to the role I have in groups at home. At home, I'm around people who know me and know me well. I don't normally have to think about the way I act around my friends or family anymore, because everyone knows me so well, the way I act is my natural way. (If that made sense.) However, here, it's as if I can't act like myself.

It's weird. Not being able to act like yourself.

It's like myself doesn't fit in with the group dynamic and I'm not sure why because a lot of the people, as much as they drive me crazy in moments of insanity, are actually very nice, very understanding, and some are very similar. But because of circumstances or conversations we've had, I feel like they think I am a different person than who I am.

You know, having so much self reflection on a trip of this magnitude is really annoying.

I decided last night that the next time I go abroad, it won't be with a group.

So, Quito is gorgeous at night. It's hard to hate it here when you're seeing gorgeous churches lit up by great lights. It's easy to hate it when you're sitting in an internet cafe and there is a group of eight year old boys screaming in Spanish, acting like stupid eight year old boys, with cars honking every 5 seconds. But last night, as Gonzolo said, 'The city is almost beautiful.' Gonzolo, of course, is spoiled with having been born in Paris, so his opinion is a bit muddled. But, Quito is gorgeous. And my camera was behaving really well last night, and I was able to get some pretty pictures of my favorite church at night.

Then it started to rain and we took a ride in horse carriages. Yes, if we didn't look like gringos already, the fact that we took a horse ride around at night cemented that. Of course, as Alex and Geneesha said last night, no matter where we go, we're going to look like gringos because of my hair. They are both half-African American, half Caucasian, so their darker appearances enables them to blend in a bit more, and the other girl can pass (god those kids are annoying) because she has darker hair.

But I kind of stick out like a sore thumb. Or some other American expression.

After we took our carriage ride in the pouring rain, we found this cafe halfway up a hill, overlooking my favorite church and the city. Unfortunately, fog had set in, so part of the city was muddled, but we still were sitting in a cute, posh cafe overlooking the gorgeous buildings of colonial Quito.

And they had vino caliente. (Hot wine, for you stupid people.) And it sounded so perfect.

But I can't have any sort of alcohol at this altitude or I'll be sick the rest of the week.

So I had hot chocolate and looked with envy on Kristin's vino caliente. She let me try some and I think I would have died and gone to heaven had I been able to drink an entire glass.

Maybe I lied when I said all the food here was bad. The food, yes. The different drinks? Not so much. Even though I think I live on hot chocolate and bread. I've heard of worse diets, though.

This morning I started my malaria pills and thankfully, I didn't get sick. So let's hope that continues, because I will be taking them until the day after I get home. (Another way to count down the days! I already get to turn my calendar every day when I take my pill in the morning!)

I'm going shopping with my host parent's this afternoon. They're so cute. I do love my host family. My host sister says I should come back to Quito for a one day vacation so I could go to her bachelorette party with her. 'Tengo un stripper! Mis amigas son loca!' Interesting dinner conversation, if I do say so myself.

There is a soccer game tonight, but I'm not sure if I'm going to go. Don't really know where everyone is meeting, because, again, that would involve being part of the group, but if my host brother comes home before it starts, I might mention it to him. I guess he's a rabid soccer fan. Can't say soccer really gets me going any direction, considering I think of it as only slightly better than football, which is only slightly less than basketball, which rests only slightly less than baseball.

Yeah, no me gusto deportes mucho. Pero, esta bien. Esta bien.

So. Yes. I survived last night. Afterwards, everyone was going to go out to get a late dinner and then go to No Bar, which is in Gringoland and apparently the hot spot to be on Tuesday. But it's crowded and I get tired, so our Magic School Bus Driver took me home, and I was warm and wrapped up in bed by 10:45. I got my wish by having my cooking class cancelled this afternoon, becaus I guess our teacher is in Miami and didn't tell anyone she was leaving. So, whatever. I got out early, had some birthday cake for Alex, and am now here. Going to go home soon and shower and probably get lunch from my host mom because she never believes I eat enough.

Which is probably true. But still.

Tomorrow, we are off to the Amazon, and if I was a bit nervous before, I am really nervous now. I don't think we'll have many problems, because we have boots and ponchos supplied for us, but mosquitoes have a reputation of loving me (I remember a certain trip to Wyoming when I was little that was almost the end of little Julia.) and I'm dreading a bit how the room assignments may go. But the room is only where I am going to sleep and I need to concentrate on the positives.

1. I'll be in the Amazon.

2. It's a once in a lifetime experience.

3. Even if the people bother me and I don't feel like I can fit in, I can still experience the natural surroundings and issues threatening that area of the world.

So, stay tuned for a report on Monday afternoon sometime. Then the countdown will really be on and I will scurry around, trying to finish everything I want to get done before I leave Ecuador.

In two weeks, I'll be back in Pathology. Isn't that a pleasant thought?

I want to go home.

2004-09-07T18:03:24Z

This trip is a mental nightmare. That's what I have decided.

First off, let me talk to you about altitude and elevation. I have a mile walk to school. I walk fast, but not abnormally so, but by the time I get to school, I am physically winded and panting. I shouldn't be panting after a 15 minute walk and it is not because I am out of shape. (Yes, I am out of shape compared to last winter, but no where near to the extent of not being able to walk for 15 minutes.) Today, when I came panting into class, my teacher greated me with a Buenos Dias, como estas? and then looked at me again and said, ¿no bien? and I had to explain to her the altitude problems.

Altitude also makes me tired. All the time. I go to bed at nine o'clock every night. Without fail. Tonight I have a tour of Quito at night that lasts until 10:00 o'clock and I seriously wonder how I am going to manage. I go to sleep right at nine, and get up between 7:00 and 7:30. During the summer, I had class the same time I do now, but I wouldn't go to bed till midnight, or later sometimes, and feel just fine. Without sleep, I don't feel fine. I miss Seattle, where I can sleep for only 7 or 8 hours and feel okay, and where I can walk to my job without feeling like I need to stop and rest like I'm 100 years old. I believe the ten dollars my parents spent on my altitude medication was the best medicine for this entire trip. That, or the Peptol Bismol Mom bought me before I left.

Now that I'm on the subject, let's talk about medications. I already take Pill #1 every morning, as soon as I wake up and so far I've been pretty good at remembering to take that. I forgot once, but everything turned out okay. However, now I also take PB whenever I leave the house, and carry some in my purse, and take some after dinner, etc. etc. Besides those two, I occassionally take my altitude medication, when it gets really bad, and starting tomorrow I get to start my malaria treatment. On top of all this, I have some medication I take twice a day (at morning and night) for my skin. Now, normally this isn't a problem. I take it with Pill #1 with lots of water, because that's what it calls for. However, at night, I have to take it a half hour before I go to bed with lots of water and not to eat anything afterwards. In the morning, I can do this and then shower, and eat breakfast a half hour later and feel okay. But if I eat soon after, I start to get a bit queasy. Not a problem. But tomorrow when I start my malaria medication, I am supposed to take it with milk or food, both things I try to avoid after taking my other pills.

Pill planning is giving me a headache. I hope I don't get any negative side effects from my malaria medication, because I'm already at my wit's end. If I don't feel well, this will not be a good vacation. Am a bit nervous about going to the Amazon, but realize most things will be okay. I am going shopping tomorrow ith my parents for some cotton, long sleeve shirts I won't mind taking into the jungle, because the ones I brought are ones I am rather fond of and are not Amazon Jungle material.

So. Today. Right now I have been on the internet for 40 minutes. This is the longest I have sat at a computer for two weeks. It feels nice. However, it is also the only way I can be by myself. If I go home, I will have to speak Spanish and pretend everything is okay before going to my room and feeling confined within my cement walls, surrounded by the bare necesities of my American life. Going with other students is not an option because going with other students is simply my problem.

I don't know whether to feel offended, sorry, confused, or simply forget about what happened this morning, but everytime I think of it I feel like crying, and really, it was such a big misunderstanding, I shouldn't feel like this. But I do. And everytime I look at the people involved, I get upset again. Oh, if only I could blame this on womanly issues, I'd feel so much better. But I am not PMSy and I am not having womanly issues, so this is purely how I feel (and would that damn car stop honking its damn horn, already!). UGH.

So, in conversational Spanish, we talk about a lot of crap. Like, movies, and culture, and books, and our living situations, and all this other stuff. After sitting for fifteen minutes listening to our resident sorority sister try to explain the Greek system to our Spanish professor, I was already a little bit annoyed. I don't really like this girl, not that she has ever done something mean to me, we're just different. She's a typical sorority girl. I am not. Anyway, the girl who had the bad experience over the weekend was in a sorority for a few years, so together, they were trying to explain it.

Afterwards, we started a new conversation about the attitudes of men towards women in Latin American countries. Now, okay. I realize I cannot speak Spanish as well as some people in my group. I will admit sometimes I don't know words in Spanish, but when I start out my story saying, 'When we were in RioBamba and Gonzolo and I were walking back from a restaurant, and there was a group of drunk men walking towards us...' what part of that includes 'I was falling asleep when I heard you having sex and then crying help me, help me?' I mean, yes, the situation with the man grabbing my butt and calling me blond happened in the same city the girl had a bad experience in. I understand that. But seriously, what kind of person does she really think I am that I would tell a story to the rest of our class and a professor who has no idea what happened about something that obviously is a bad situation and really none of my business? So when I'm in the middle of trying to explain how a group of drunk guys was walking past me and saying Gringita, gringita to ME (when this girl wasn't even with us), I'm obviously not talking about what happened to her! Doesn't seem to matter, though, because she started telling me to stop talking, to not bring it up, and I'm thinking, What the hell? I'm not even talking about you! Romeo stepped in and told her I was talking about something completely different, but it was still just... I don't know. Another girl told me stop telling the story, too. (Even though it was different!) Sigh. A few things. A) People don't listen. RioBamba is a city where both me and this other girl had bad experiences with Latin men. But when the story starts out 'The time our professor and I were walking back from a restaurant' shouldn't it be obvious I am not talking about her? B) What kind of person do these people really think I am that I would do something so blatantly rude and awful as tell a story about a girl who is sitting in the room and her bad experience with Latin men? I mean, it makes me wonder if my behavior has been different or abnormal to make these people think I would be such a cruel person. C) Of all the people this weekend, I tried to keep my nose out of her business. When it first happened, everyone was still standing in the hall watching, and I kind of herded everyone into one room to give her privacy. The next morning when Sorority Sister came back talking about her side of the story (the part she could remember, at least) I didn't crowd around like everyone else did on the bus and listen to the news like fresh meat. I tried to act normal to the girl yesterday when I saw her by saying good morning and acting as if it was a normal Monday morning.

So out of all of this, I'm the one jumped on as soon as I open my mouth about an experience that didn't even involve her in RioBamba? For the record, she did apologize, as did the other girl who had something, but the damage has been done. I sat in the rest of class feeling like I could start to cry at any minute. It just didn't seem fair. For her to get mad at me, of all people, for supposedly talking about it (even when I wasn't!), it just...bothers me. A lot.

And I get to spend the rest of the afternoon with these people, have a dinner break of sanity with my family, then spend two more hours with them. I think I'm going to get sick.

The morning got slightly better during dance class. I always get to dance with Gonzolo or Romeo, but since Gonzolo grew up in Venezuela, he actually knows how to salsa, whereas Romeo doesn't. Not that he doesn't look amusing when he tries. Sigh. So, salsa is always fun with Gonzolo because he basically leads me into what I need to do and I feel like I can actually accomplish dancing. It helped for awhile to get my mind off of what happened, but now it's back, and everytime I look at the girl, I just have to wonder what was going through her mind. I wasn't even talking about her! And I just don't understand how she could jump down my throat like that after I said, 'When I was in RioBamba and Gonzolo and I were walking back from a restaurant...'

Ecuador isn't my problem. Spanish isn't my problem. Men grabbing my butt isn't even my problem, as offensive and abnormal as that seems. People who don't listen, nor take the time to understand things. That is my problem.

So, now I'm annoyed and not even looking forward to the Amazon this weekend. I feel bipolar with my moods here, and think this is the last time I will travel with American students. A few can ruin the whole litter and I sure feel ruined today.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-06T12:41:00

2004-09-06T17:57:35Z

Wow. A lot can happen in the six hours after I wrote my last entry. It feels pretty crazy that it is already Monday afternoon, because seriously, the last 48 hours were pretty wild.

I went back to the hotel and had dinner, which was bad. I have given up for normal food my stomach can handle here. They rice was basically a cup of salt, their pop was flat, and the main course was steak, and I haven't had steak in more than a year. Was not very into that. But during dinner we started to play ´The Movie Game,´ which is where you say the title of the movie and then have to come up with the next title from the last letter of the first. That turned into a marathon 2 hour game between me and the cinema major. I was joined forces by Gonzolo, my hilarious gay French professor. We kept getting stuck on movie titles that start with E or Y, while Daniel wasn't so hot at titles that started with N. But it was some goodtimes. Afterwards, I played pool with some of the other students before having a conversation about astrology and how, according to Gonzolo, my family is a cosmic nightmare because of our signs. Then we went out for food because again, the food at dinner was not so hot.

We were looking for a McDonald's. I just wanted french fries. What we found was a cafeteria americana bustling at 10:30 at night with a jukebox and chocolate milkshakes. I split a platter of fries with Gonzolo, got my milkshake, and everyone else had pizza. It was great. Then we hit the jukebox and played some hardcore Avril Lavigne and classic Madonna hits. After two rounds, a Ecuadorian guy who had been making eyes with me across the room got up. Romeo goes, 'Oh, the gauntlet has been thrown, Julia. He's going to show you how it's really done.'

'Yeah, right,' I replied. 'He's probably going to pick Christina Augielera or something.'

'Ladies, gentlemen...' A few minutes later, Dirrty was blaring out of this jukebox in freaking RioBamba, Ecuador, and the seven of us were laughing so hard. It was a moment.

We left the cafeteria and walked back towards our hotel amid drunk RioBambians who felt the need to holler out GRINGA GRINGA at me. Gonzolo decided I was the most gringo-looking person of our group because of my blond hair, and as we walked past a bunch of drunk men, one turned around and said, 'Gringita! Gringita! Pelo Rubita!' which is basically, Foreigner, foreigner, blond hair... etc. etc. I was squeezing closer to Gonzolo because this was the most attention I've gotten from Ecuadorian men (no problems in Quito) when all of a sudden, as the guy walked past, he pinched my butt.

I am seriously not joking.

I, of course, went off like a rocket and started dancing around. Everyone else burst out laughing and while my pride was a bit wounded, hey, if I was a RioBambian man, I'd grab my butt, too. :) Or something. The way women are treated here and in the States is just completely different. So I have a topic for my essay now.

Then, sadly, the night took a turn for the worst. As I was trying to get to sleep, I heard sounds. Yes, sounds. Those sounds that you really should not be able to hear unless you're sleeping in a hotel with thin walls. One of the members of our group was engaging in some special activity with a hot soccer player she had met. And was not being quiet about it, either.

Trying to ignore it and go to sleep, I was almost drifting off when all of a sudden I heard sounds of 'Ayudame! Ayudame!' The door was thrown open at the same time as mine, and everyone else in the hall's were. Apparently, the soccer player attempted to, well, you know, I don't even know, but it was a situation that had BAD written all over it, and it turned bad really fast. Yes, she was drunk. Yes, it was not a smart decision to do stuff with him anyway. But no is no. Period.

No one got much sleep that night, but when one of your fellow students has an attempted rape made, it's kind of hard to concentrate on sleeping. She went to the police station, Gonzolo stayed with her, and we continued on to Ingapirca the next morning. Ingapirca was absolutely fascinating. We stayed in this cute hotel, had some good food for a change, had a great tour guide who spoke English but seemed like a Man of the Mountains, and then went to take the train on Sunday morning. The actual train ride to Nariz del Diablo was kind of anti-climatic, but then we took the train to another town to avoid more monotonous hours on our Magic School Bus, and that was very interesting.

The countryside of Eucador is impoverished country. When you see livestock and realize it is all the people have to rely on, it kind of makes my room full of possessions sitting in my parent's house hard to think about. When I see girls standing by the train tracks, lifting up their arms to wave at me, as I sit atop the train, it makes me wonder what kind of power in this world gives me the option to look, but them only the choice to look back.

I've seen poverty. I've seen hungry eyes. I've recieved the looks from people as I pass, who automatically have me marked as a foreigner. Because I am foreign, I am rich. Because I am rich, I think I am better. I am a foreigner in a foreign land and am marked as such. I know that I've had a harder time dealing with being gone from home then before when I've traveled abroad. And as much as I'd like to be at home right now, I know that these feelings, these reasons, these experiences, are the reason I'm here. If I don't acknowledge the differences, then I'm being like every other person who is priviledged like me who chooses to ignore them.

I don't want to be like those people.

I may look, and they might look back, but when I look, I attempt to understand.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-03T17:52:00

2004-09-03T23:11:10Z

So I lied. I couldn´t stay away from the internet when there is a cafe right next to our hotel. And I´m homesick and sharing a room with the girl I like the least in my group, so frankly, to quote Rhett Butler, I don´t give a damn.

Last week I was reading about the places we were supposed to go to on this excursion. I remember reading that the Nariz del Diablo (Devil´s Nose or rather the crazy train trip through the Andes where you ride on the roof) only ran on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Well, on our schedule, we were supposed to go on Saturday. So tomorrow we´re going to the Inca site instead, which is a 4 hour bus ride, then walking around there for 4 hours, before supposedly somehow catching a train to get somewhere in between to take the train on Sunday. Don´t ask me. I´ll report what actually happens when I get back to Quito on Monday.

We spent the last 24 hours in a tiny town at the end of a 15 mile mountain trail our busdriver thought was safe enough to take our Magic School Bus on. I am reminded of forest adventures with Alicia´s truck a few summers ago and thinking my life was in danger. I found myself wishing for the tiny cab of her white truck to the bus teetering on the roads of the Andes.

The little town was called Salisnas and it is formed of 31 cooperatives. 30 years ago a priest from Italy came to the town when it had no economy, industry, or anything going for it. He set up different cooperatives (wool, ceramics, cheese, chocolate) and 30 years later it is a productive community that shares all the profits and live at the base of their cliff in relative peace. It´s an interesting idea.

The town was quiet and a nice change from the city. I bought some pretty interesting things and while some students felt they only reason we came to this town was to empty our thick American pocketbooks, I didn´t find myself minding too much. I did mind a few members of the people I´m traveling with getting wasted and keeping me awake last night, but the again, I´ve become pretty short with members of my group in general lately, so them getting wasted shouldn´t surprise me.

(Not that I´m a total nun or something when it comes to alcohol, but unlike some people I understand the issue of drinking socially and responsibily. But I guess they don´t teach those things in the Greek system.)

I had a scary experience yesterday. For the first time in my life, I couldn´t breathe. I´ve had friends struggle with asthma, allergies, and other lung problems, but have been blessed with a pretty nice pair of lungs. However, altitude and scaling mountains does not mix well with me, and while it would be interesting to scale a cliff to see the cross that stands above Salinas, it is also nice to breathe. However, yesterday, as I climbed that mountain, I couldn´t. My throat still burned last night from gasping for breath when I tried to go to sleep. Very scary and not very fun.

So two weeks from tomorrow I will be at home and not a moment too soon. This trip is exhausting and the people I´m traveling with grating. I am learning a lot, experiencing a lot, thinking a lot, feeling a lot, but also missing home a lot.

And that´s weird for such a traveler that I am.

But it´s the truth.

bellajulia @ 2004-09-01T12:29:00

2004-09-01T17:53:17Z

I am on a computer that has popups and issues with opening random programs. Gotta love internet cafes. Oh, well. This will be the last time I check my e-mail for at least four or five days, so I'll smile and bear it. It doesn't help that the people who run this joint keep switching the radio to try to get a song to come in, and do not seem to realize that the song is just not going to come in. But you can't win all your battles, as life in Ecuador is quickly teaching me.

Oh, how I miss fast internet and my baby laptop. I will be back soon! Well, today I walked to school, and even though my host family assured me it only takes ten minutes, it's more like 20. But I need the exercise (ha, ha, ha) and it is getting me in shape for my 5 miles a day this fall. But if that wasn't enough, there is also something working for me getting my five miles in. It's called scaling a freakin' mountain without lunch looking at rocks that a Spanish tour guide claims comes from a culture of people who lived in the area before the Inca's came in. Now, I understand I am a history major, and if this weren't the third time we've looked at rocks while walking around mountains, I might have cared a bit more. But if you add the llamas following us, no lunch, probably another 500 feet in elevation, and the 50+ mile winds, I am not a happy camper and don't give my left foot where they kept the corn in their little huts.

That was the bad part of yesterday. The good part was going to the small village that Cimas (my school here) sustains, meeting little cute Ecuadorian children, buying some really pretty souveniers that will go to help sustain the said village, and having a little boy pick me out of the crowd of 6 other girls and go, ¨What's your name!?¨ I told him it was Julia, and he kept saying it back to me, back and forth, back and forth, and then when we left, he stopped, smiled at me, and said, ¨Ciao, Julia!¨ It was the cutest thing in the world and I think I left my heart back up on that mountain with him. The village is for women who are victims of rape or who have other disabilities. They are supplied with work, a home, and childcare, so I didn't mind spending as much money as I did there.

After we left Tocachi (the village), we scaled that stupid mountain, came back to Quito, had Spanish class, and learned more salsa. R.J. still tries to throw out my shoulder whenever he spins me, but I think he is learning. Not that I can really dance, but it's fun to try. (Greg, watch out. You might be learning when I get home.)

So...what else is new? I am unsure of what I am doing after class today, and we are done at 3:30. I do not want to go home right away because I end up reading my Ecuador book for an hour, eating dinner, and going to bed by 9. I actually stayed up till about 9:30 last night because I found a station on television that was airing the Republican National Convention. You know, I didn't like Arnold before he was governor, while he has been governor, and I really don't like him after his speech last night. Made me glad I was not at home to get coverage of the convention for the three days it is being aired. Then again, I belong to the party which only tells ¨True Lies,¨ so what do I even know? God forbid we have an immigrant who comes to America and joins the Democratic Party. I mean, sheesh.

Uhm, what else. My host sister wishes I could stay another week and be in her wedding. I saw her wedding dress last night and it is gorgeous, but she has to have it altered because when she bought it in March, she wasn't pregnant. She is also sick and tired of planning the wedding, and it seems it is more of the family want to have a lavish wedding, and not hers. I told her last night I had sympathy but didn't understand, because my sister just eloped, and she said she would have been fine with that. Poor thing.

Today in Spanish class we started talking about values and how they differ in Ecuador and America. One thing that came up was the responsibility to the family. Even though my sister might not want to have a big wedding, she has a duty to her family to do so, for the cultural and societal practices she's been raised in. In the States, those kinds of things aren't as prevalent.

Tomorrow I am off to the South of Ecuador, which I am sure will be quite an adventure. They seem to have us being very busy, and I have a 5 hour bus ride tomorrow. I will be sure to remember all my medication this time, and hopefully won't die on the 8 hour bus ride we have back on Sunday. Will probably post again on Monday afternoon, but I have plans to go to the old district of Quito with another student and do some mad photography. Will be in touch. Hope everyone is well and has a good Labor Day weekend!

(And a big happy 80th birthday to my dear grandpa!)

bellajulia @ 2004-08-30T17:12:00

2004-08-30T22:29:26Z

1. Mom e-mailed me a lengthy e-mail in reply to my last post, saying she thought I was sicker than I let on, because I was starting to sound like the other American students I'm traveling with. Ouch, mi madre, ouch. :) No, really, my other students haven't been as bad. There are a few of them who I could take or leave, but since the day at the mall, they have redeemed themselves.

2. I'm in an area of Quito right now called GringoLandia. Not sure why.

3. Am supposed to be home in 25 minutes. Think I will take a taxi because they are cheap.

4. It looks like it might rain.

5. Am feeling better, but have lost all appetite for Eucadorian food. Grandma, I am craving your chicken dinner more than life itself.

6. We're going to some rural area to visit a program site that Cimas (my school) runs. Should be interesting. Have school from 7:30-5:00 tomorrow, which will not be fun, but I shall survive.

7. Since I slept so much this weekend, I stayed up pretty late finishing Gone With the Wind, but then fell asleep until 6, when I finished it. That book is a beast. But a good one. Someone care to look up and see whether it has a sequel? Internet is slow here and the way it ended, I almost think it should have some lesser-known follow up.

8. Dogs in Ecuador still bother me. I'm scared to death of them.

9. Have I mentioned crossing streets here is like taking your life in your own hands? In the States, there is a wonderful thing called the RIGHT OF WAY. Yeah, here, it doesn't exist. Cross at your own peril.

10. I hope the taxi person knows where I live. The last thing I need is to be stuck in a city where I can't communicate effectively at night when I'm supposed to be home in a half hour. Good times, living abroad. Good times.

11. There are ants in my bathroom.

bellajulia @ 2004-08-29T11:08:00

2004-08-29T16:21:54Z

Well, my weekend didn't turn out as I expected it to. As soon as I got back from writing my last entry, I collasped onto my bed in half-exhaustion, with plans to simply read Gone With the Wind. I fell asleep at some point, woke up, and felt like shit. (Sorry for all those mild-eyed readers out there, but it's the truth.)

I can't remember a time in my life where I have felt as sick, as nauseated, as helpless. Friday night consisted of sleeping, gulping water, and throwing up. I called my parents sometime in there, and don't really remember a whole lot of the conversation. I'm sure I talked to them about random crap, but I honestly don't remember the conversation very well. So, sadly to say, I did not go to the music festival, but instead stayed home to give my offerings to an ugly blue porcelean toilet bowl.

I woke up at 6:00 on Saturday morning, showered, and had allthe plans to go to the market, except when I collasped dizzily into my chair at the breakfast table and realized I hardly had enough energy to walk down the stairs. A two hour ride in a bus with the nightmares I experienced from the day before was enough for me to simply not care about missing an exciting day, because my bed sounded all the more inviting. I drank some water and plowed right back into bed, where I did not emerge from for the next 5 hours.

Most of Saturday afternoon was passed in a hazy, dreamlike state. I remember eating some soup, trying some pineapple juice, and tossing and turning a lot. My soft bed had turned into an awful hard rock but I couldn't gather enough energy to leave it. At one point, my tia came in to say she was going to go get Kristy from Cimas and left. She had her nephew over that day, so I have vague memories of an eight year old boy face looking into mine. At one point, he had an instrument of some sort, and was blowing air on me. Mas viento, he would say. Mas viento! (This keyboard doesn't have functioning quotation marks.)

So then they left and then the doorbell rang a lot. I was too lazy to get out of bed to answer to and try to talk to them in Spanish, so I let it ring. I figured it was the boy's parents to come pick him up, but I wasn't moving. Kristy came back before tia did, because she didn't know they were going to meet her. When everyone was back, we had dinner (more soup and water), and then I fell asleep again until 1 AM. I woke up around six this morning and spent most of the morning reading Gone With the Wind, but then mustered some energy to go look for internet, find nothing, then come with tia, Kristy, and tio into the city to find internet and do some other stuff. Not sure how long my energy is going to last, but it helps when I am sitting down and not walking about.

Really not sure what caused my illness, but Mom is theorizing that it was my red wine, a mixture of elevation, the bus ride, and the food finally being rejected on my stomach. I'll tell you one thing, though. I am never eating a corn tortilla again in my entire life. I am now patiently waiting for my energy to come back.

Other things I have noticed while on my deathbed:

1. There are enough dogs here to make me hate them. I like my dog, sure, and I have never been anti-dog, but I haven't seen a damn cat since I left my parent's house a month ago. They bark all the time, look mean and vicious, and I have no idea why people keep them when they are so mean.

2. People honk all the damn time. ALL THE TIME. For every damn thing.

3. And you thought car alarms were a problem in the States? Don't come complaining to me about car alarms until you have laid for 24 hours listening to them go off every five minutes, without fail, and then keep going on for the next ten minutes.

So while you may think Ecuador has done me in, it has not. I will survive and make it home in 19 days, where I will steadfastedly embrace my American ways and American life.

Guess I'm just like everyone else. You can take the American out of America, but you can't take America out of the American.

bellajulia @ 2004-08-27T15:22:00

2004-08-27T20:33:05Z

I can not figure out showers here for the life of me. Like my host family's house, I am supposed to turn the water on, listen for a noise that sounds like a car starting, and that is when I will know the water is warm. Well, with the water running, I can never hear this noise, so half the time my shower is freezing and the other half it is only luke-warm. I keep turning the shower on and off through my 10 minute shower, just to try and get some warm water. And let's not even talk about the water pressure.

So yesterday got better. I went back to my host aunt's house and read 200 pages of Gone With the Wind. That is a really good book, I am surprising myself by how much I actually like it. One thing that is nice is the length. I am only 400 pages into it and still have 600 left. Definitely something to look foward to.

I can now say I have been to the southern hemisphere. We went to the equator today and although the location is really touristy, in 20 years I can look back and say, ¨Damn, I looked good when I stood on the equator!¨ But the group leaders were a bit vague with when we were supposed to leave, so I went off after leaving Danny with Gonzolo, my professor (who either has a cigarette or a cup of coffee in his hands at all time), at a cafe and was looking at some of the stores. Ten minutes later, after buying a cute original painting and a present for Abbi, I left and went back to the cafe, expecting them to still be there.

They weren´t. I wasn´t worried. I simply walked back to where we came in and then saw our Spanish guide running towards me, screaming my name. ¨Julia! Julia!¨ Apparently, Gonzolo was on the search for me, too, so they must have decided to leave right after I left to go browsing. I got on the bus to choruses of ¨She's alive!¨ Yes, everyone, it is true. I went to the equator and lived to tell the tale.

Then we went to this area called Pullahua or something, which is a valley that is protected by the government, where like 40 people live and raise food, and is surrounded completely by volcanoes. The people live in the crater and aren´t allowed to sell their property or have anyone else move in. The view was spectactular from up top, but some people wanted to walk down in the valley that was a straight drop down practically. While this would have been fun, I was wearing my nice black capris and flip flops, so a group of us went up to the restaurant overlooking the crater, had lunch, drank some sweet Argentinian red wine, and relaxed for two hours. It was nice to just sit and talk with the people I am traveling with, I'm even feeling better about everything from yesterday. And I accomplished one of my goals for this trip: try some of the wine that Destinos was bragging about when Raquel went to Argentina. (For those who don´t know Destinos, it was the Spanish soap opera I watched every day to teach me Spanish. They had cultural segments about the areas of the Hispanic world the narrator traveled to.)

I got a bit sick on the busride back to Quito, but was pleasantly surprised when we went upstairs to the kitchen of my school and had cake and ice cream waiting for us. I got to celebrate my birthday again, as well as my professor´s 47th birthday which is today. Kristen and I are now at an internet cafe on our way home, where I think the plan is to take some books, go to a cafe, and people watch. Tonight we´re getting dressed up to go to some sort of festival with authentic Ecuadorian music. Tomorrow we´re going to an open air market that is supposed to be really amazing, and I´m not sure what Sunday has planned.

Random thing I noticed about life in Quito: The furniture in all the houses looks as if it was bought 30 years ago. It´s nice, but definitely old looking, and with the amount of money the people I'm staying with make, I'm surprised it's not newer. I realize this is simply me being a product of my culture, where everything in America is new, new, new. Everything always has to be new. But it sometimes makes me feel like I am living in a different decade, rather than a different city.

And I'm done.

bellajulia @ 2004-08-26T16:15:00

2004-08-26T21:27:15Z

Hi. I am back. With a computer that does not have a keyboard with functioning apostrophes. So be prepared for some hot, good English because I cannot stand to use words without apostrophes. So I will just write the whole thing out.

So today has been interesting. Traveling with a group is always interesting, and traveling with people who have never been abroad is especially so. I do not really know whether I have been able to find my footing within the group and occassionally it feels as if no one understands me.

This was cemented today when I went shopping with some of the girls on my program and spent a good two hours shopping in American stores, watching them eat American food, and then getting nails done, all things they could do at home. I understand the experience is different here, but still. I cannot say with any certainty that I had a good time.

So, Alicia wanted to know about my house. House. Well. All the houses here are gated, so once you are inside my gate you are struck with four cars that all belong to my family. I do not think my host mother drives, but she must have a car for her. They have a VW somethingorother, my brother has a hot Italian car, then some random Cheverolet for my host sister, and this old beater blue car. They are all parked on a slope and off to the left when you enter my driveway are some buildings tha tI have not exactly figured out what they are for yet. I think storage. You walk down some stares and on the first floor of the house is what appears to be an apartment of some sort. Basically, we do not live there. You have to walk past the door to that apartment, and then up the stairs and around the back of the complex to our house. Once inside, you are on the ground floor where all the rooms are. My room has its own bathroom, and the same goes for the rest of the rooms. So four rooms on the ground floor and then there are stairs leading up directly to your right when you enter. Upstairs, there is a sitting room, dining room, and extended kitchen. The upstairs offers some great views of Quito and in the morning when I wake up, I have sun streaming in across my bed. I always check my watch and realize it is only six, and I still have a good hour and a half to sleep. Gotta love that feeling.

Of course, at the moment I am staying with my host aunt, so I think I am in the room of her daughter, but I could be mistaken. It will be nice for a few days, and I am feeling better now that I checked my e-mail, but honestly, there are times when I do not think I will ever understand the way people think.

It is normally said traveling shows the true extent of a relationship. If you can travel with someone, you can be friends with them. I do not know whether there is anyone in my group who I really could stand traveling with for any longer than a trip to the mall. Is that bad? Am I simply anti-people?

Tomorrow we are going to the Equator, or known here as the Middle of the World, and then on Saturday we are going to a popular market around Quito. Also, tomorrow night, the family I am staying with, are taking me and Kristy (the other student) to some sort of festival, which requires dressing up. Glad I brought a skirt. My host family gets back from the beach on Sunday, and I think I will be glad to see them.

Have I mentioned how much I heart my host family? I found out last night my host sister is 2 months pregnant, and is planning to get married in October. I knew the October part but the fact that she is pregnant already...I do not know, but I believe I have a bit of Spanish soap opera on my hands. My host parents are totally cool about it, though, so that is good. It is weird, though. When I first met her, I thought she might be pregnant. It was just some weird feeling I had. And here she tells me three days later, she is! Also, at the grocery stores here, they have parking spots for a Futura Mama. Then there are pictures of pregnant ladies in stick figures.

And that is all I have from Quito. My time is about up.

bellajulia @ 2004-08-25T12:39:00

2004-08-25T18:06:14Z

Here I am.

Bet some of you were wondering whether I was actually going to make it to another continent, but that really wasn´t the issue. I just managed to call my parents this morning at six o´clock PST, and I´ve been here for four days.

So. Ecuador. Quito. First of all, the city is gorgeous. Really, really pretty. Stuck between two huge mountains (actually, there are like 5 or 6 mountains around the city), houses go clear up to the top and fill the entire basin of the valley. We went to El Pancillo yesterday, which is a HUGE HUGE HUGE angel statue on the top of the ¨smallest¨ mountain and the views were amazing. Facing north, you can see Modern Quito, where I´m staying and where the Foundation I go to school at is located. Lots of big, modern buildings. Then as you look South, you see more of old, Colonial Quito with these huge, giant, gothic looking churches that remind me of Italy. And over to the other side, as far as the eyes can see, are more houses. Quito only has 1.5 million people, which is a bit more than Seattle, but in Seattle, just as everywhere in the United States, everything is spread out. Here, everything is crammed into a few valleys and there are buildings, restaurants, businesses, etc. etc. everywhere. One thing I find interesting and/or sad are all the American restaurants. Sure, there is McDonald´s but Quito also has Tomy Roma´s, Pizza Hut, Burger King, T.G.I Friday´s, and Dominoes Pizza. These are businesses you´d never seen in Europe or Asia, so to see them in South America is kind of strange.

My host family are some of the nicest people I´ve ever met. I´m once again amazed at the human capacity to open one´s homes, arms, and life for a foreign student who will require attention, food, time, and energy. However, the very first night (my birthday!!) my host father told me that ¨mi casa es tu casa¨ and he wanted me to feel like a member of the family. My host sister is getting married in October and speaks fluent English, and my host brother is also very, very nice. There have been moments when I don´t feel like I can understand anything or communicate with them, but that is more when it is all of us eating dinner. One on one is much better. So, yes. Host family is good. Everyone here is very affectionate with one another - hugs when I get up in the morning, hugs and kisses on the cheek when I leave for school, the same thing when I come back from school, before I go to bed...It´s a bit to get used to, but it´s not bad.

I went to a Spanish circus last night. A circus that included no animals, some acrobats, a few weird clowns, a woman who could twirl 70 hoops around her after doing the tango, and then this really annoying clown who made fun of President Bush and Saddam Hussein. I feel pretty out of the loop when it comes to news, but here in Ecuador, they don´t seem overly concerned with the going on´s of the rest of the world. I´ve gotten a lot of interaction between South American countries, and there was a story on the news last night about Cuba and Panama having some issues, but for the most part, I haven´t seen very many headlines or news reports about Iraq or Bush. People here, for sure, don´t care for him or his policies, and have started to compare John Kerry with John F. Kennedy, which I´m not sure how that happened, but it´s always a good time discussing politics with people from other countries.

I got a 3.7 in Spanish. Go me. My host family is going out of town to the beach this weekend, so I´m going to stay with my aunt here, who is actually a host mom for another student, for a few days. We´re going to the equator on Friday and then a market on Saturday. Sunday I´m not sure what we have planned, but knowing that there can never just be two hours for siesta here, I´m sure we´ll be busy.

As for my typical day, I get up about an hour before I have to leave. I shower in my luke-warm, bordering on cold, shower, and wonder why South America has yet to discover the great thing called a shower curtain. Like in Europe, the showers are right next to the toilet with no curtain, so water gets everywhere, no matter how hard you try to make it not to. I miss Japan where there was a separate room for showering. After I shower and get dressed, I dry my hair which has taken well to the altitude, and then go upstairs and eat breakfast. They have some interesting juice here, and my host mother has been making me eggs every morning. My host father was amazed this morning when I didn´t like salt, so I had to explain to him I didn´t like salty things. They also have hot chocolate every morning, or tea. My family has this great orange tea I had the first night that I really liked. I might be finding the taste for it. After breakfast, I brush my teeth and my father drives me to school.

School consists of an hour of conversational Spanish with 5 other students from my program, then a half hour break (we walked across the street and got coffee this morning) and then an hour of Ecuadorian culture. The first day we had music, yesterday we learned a bit of salsa, and today was a very weird Traditional Medicine type thing, where we all stood in a circle with our eyes closed, hummed and raised our arms a lot, and got sprinkled with water from perfumed flowers while a man spoke Spanish to us. Yeah, it was a bit weird, but I went with the flow. Now we have a break, but some days we don´t, and I have to be back in an hour for a lecture on some aspect of Ecuadorian culture. These lectures are normally REALLY, REALLY boring, but I try and stay awake out of respect. Because I know I should care but after an entire day of dealing with people speaking to me in English, with weird food, and still becoming used to the way of life, it is sometimes hard to care about biodiversity.

Okay, this is really, really, really long. And I have to go find something for lunch because I am hungry. The girl I came to the internet cafe with left long ago, and I have no idea where everyone is, but I do know there is a random sandwich shop by my school, and a market that sells chocolate (mmm, Snickers...), so off I go. Stay tuned for my adventures next time: A trip to the equator and Southern Hemisphere, more Spanish days, and a description of my house, by request of Alicia!

bellajulia @ 2004-08-19T23:00:00

2004-08-20T06:04:50Z

Yes, I truly am alive.

Michelle reminded me today I had not recently posted, so here I am.

I leave in three days.

My lights are still hanging on my walls, I am not packed at all, and all of the boxes sitting in my living room do not seem to make enough of impact in my mind when I look to see all the stuff I have yet to do. Tomorrow will be a late night.

Thankfully, I will have Alicia here to keep me sane, go underwear shopping with, and help pack. Because all of those things she does extremely well. Yay her.

I had McDonald's for dinner tonight. It was muy fantastica. Must thank my wonderful roommate Kristy for that. I'm going to miss living with her. Sigh.

So, I'll soon be leaving on a jet plane, and at this point Mandy is somewhere in Amsterdam, sitting in the airport, waiting for her flight to South Africa to take off. Glad she's going, wish I could, too. Time I hit the African continent, huh? Maybe next time. South America will be first.

What do you pack when you go to another continent? This isn't like Europe. Or Japan. I had my mom's assistant for the second one. And I was only going for 1/3 of the time for the first. Haven't the foggiest idea, but hopefully will become clearer tomorrow once I have taken my last Spanish test and can fully devote my attention to the fact I'm leaving the country for a month tomorrow afternoon.

I love that. Leaving the country.

So refreshing.

bellajulia @ 2004-08-05T09:43:00

2004-08-05T17:05:18Z

Wow. I'm a bit woozy.

I just got back from my travel doctor's appointment. The professor accompanying us to Ecuador strongly recommended it, and I don't think he let me down. The doctor I talked to was very helpful and gave me prescriptions for typhoid, TD, altitude sickness, and malaria. I've already been innoculated for Hep. A&B before I went to Japan, and measles and everything else is pretty much taken care of.

But the yellow fever shot has made me feel a bit woozy. Supposedly it's normal, at least in 1/4 of the cases, but I didn't think it'd be me. I should be in class right now.

However, as you can see, that is not happening. Kristy called when I was walking back to refrigerator my Typhoid vaccine (it's in pill form) and told me to take my time because the alternative is throwing up between here and the classroom. Or in the classroom.

I can't be sick. I need to go to work and study for my test. I may only work for a few hours today. Sigh. Man, I'm hungry but I'm supposed to take my typhoid medication on an empty stomach. Guess I should take that now. Okay, that was unpleasant. One of the typhoid medication's side effects is nausea, too.

Great. That's all I have to say about that. Just great.

I can't sleep and I don't know why.

2004-07-17T07:01:32Z

I think that I'm still mad over my bad luck with airlines.

If United flew to South America, I wouldn't be having this problem.

But it doesn't. So I am. See, this is just a sign I shouldn't switch airlines. Ever.

Continental. Continental, my butt.

I bought my ticket yesterday for around $775 dollars.

The price went down today to $611.

Granted, that is only a loss of $164 dollars. And $164 dollars is just a $164 dollars.

Still! It's $164 dollars!

bellajulia @ 2004-07-16T18:10:00

2004-07-17T01:11:50Z

I've been playing around with my journal. Tweaking it. I have some great colors going on and I love this layout. Maybe I should redesign my other LJ, as well...

Oh, the possibilites for procrastination on a Friday night.

bellajulia @ 2004-07-15T22:39:00

2004-07-16T05:43:57Z

I'm committed. Mom bought my airline ticket today. I am now in debt to my parents by $700 dollars and have a date with me and a hot airplane seat on Continental for the night of the 22nd of August. It'll be great - me, myself, and I, and that seat. We'll have dinner, maybe watch a movie, take a walk. On said walk I'll meet another great chair. We'll have dinner, maybe watch a movie, then I'll leave him.

As it should be, as it should be.

I was trying to figure out earlier what I should pack. Mom asked whether it'd be warm there, and if I was past the equator and in the Southern hemisphere, wouldn't it be spring time? I looked on my map hanging on the wall for the equator line, and couldn't find it.

Then I realized the equator goes through Ecuador, not the bottom of Peru. Heading north I found Quito, with the equator driving right through the middle of it. Something tells me I don't need to worry about seasons. My guidebook says Quito doesn't really get seasons, living next to the equator and all.

I'm excited. Mom's boss asked her what person she knew who was flying to South America. When she responded, "My daughter is going and she's not even 19 yet!", he replied with, "Did you do that at her age?" Mom's answer was an emphatic "no!"

"Isn't it amazing what kids are doing these days?" He asked.

Yeah, isn't it?

bellajulia @ 2004-07-15T19:58:00

2004-07-16T03:00:14Z

The first entry! At the moment I am procrastinating and not studying for my la exama de español. It's tomorrow morning. It's Thursday night. I still have a lot to learn, but, like always, I can't concentrate. So here's the first entry. I'm very boring.