Don't blame me! Blame China...

Some of you may have noticed that i haven't blogged since i left Quito. Some of you may also know that everything on the internet that teeters on interesting or social or that concerns the specifics of the Cultural Revolution is blocked by the CCP...Including blogspot and yahoo answers and youtube and nearly every other useful page that you can surf on the incredible misnomer that is the "WORLD Wide Web." So it goes... So much has happened from me hiking the Inca Trail to being DENIED entry to China to a picture of me appearing in the largest newspaper in Kunming! That said, to recount all that has happened would not only be incredibly boring for all of you who have probably already given up reading this blog anyway, but could hardly do justice to my experiences. But a few highlights--bullet-points are necessary...

1. I was nearly escorted out of Machu Picchu for crossing the practically invisible border in to the ares where the lamas grazed, only after Bridget literally peed her pants from laughing so hard at the tourist reactions to our "lama behavior"--this makes sense in context, i swear. If you would have seen the types and numbers of tourist there you would have reacted in a similar manner...that is, if you're a sane person.

2. So according to my Chinese Visa i was born November 22, 1949 and my last name is Agriswold. So there, Chinese people, with your math skills and all. Kidding, but it was an error of the Chinese Embassy. And after a 15 hour journey from Cuzco, Peru to Los Angeles CA I was prohibited from getting on the flight to China because of the visa. So i waved goodbye to the rest of the group and spent the next day in and out of the Chinese Embassy with one of my leaders. True Fact. And desperately tried to ignore the inevitable culture shock as i walked past Dolce and Gabana and all of the "fashionistas" and saw billboards for "Paranormal Activity" and even ran in to Richard Simons who asked me if i'd worked out that day and after i affirmatively replied he called me a liar. Maybe this trip has made me fatter... I'm glad i got out fast, definitely wasn't ready for that!

3. I perfected my chinese accent. Not the one of the tedious chinese language of course, but the one of Chinese people speaking english, a vital skill to master for all. But really i did learn how to say "can i have forty dumplings?" and "I am America," along with other, useful, phrases in Chinese that helped with my homestay experience. Advise: never eat hotpot, that is unless, you would like your butt-hole to turn into a garden hose, just sayin'.

4. "Chinglish" is that another word that was added to my vocabulary. A mix of Chinese and English, the equivalent of the bull-dog shih-Tsu mix of language--makes no sense and is commonly found on T-shirts (have you ever seen a real one, bull-shih(t) i mean?) Anyway, nearly all chinese apparel is decorated with common phrases like "London, Birthday Cake, Have you any Pink?" and "Imagine Peace with frosting." It's awesome really, because anything makes sense.

5. I ate a spleen, accidentally. i don't want to talk about this...

6. Karaoke is to China and what going to movies is to Americans. Accept you can't go deaf from Brad Pitt (maybe Micheal Bay.) Imagine running over a cat with a hummer again and again to the tube of a toddler pounding on a piano and this is the sound of Chinese Music, at least the music that my middle aged host mother chose to sing. over and over again in a 10 ft by 15 ft karaoke booth. Maybe it's what mainstream rap music is to youth in the US--each song really does sound different to them but to an non-listener it sounds like a sub whiffer with lycris that alternate every synonym of words like bitch, money and guns. Regardless, i was excited to leave after 4 hours in the Karaoke booth.

Okay enough for now, i'll split this up in to a few doses, wouldn't want to bore you, if you've even gotten this far. Something more thoughtful is coming. soon. tomorrow? I'm in India now, by the way. More to come!

THANKS FOR THE PACKAGES!! the blondies survived!

BIG love

When Assumptions are Challenged

Leaving Bua was bittersweet. Our close relationship to our family was almost beginning to match the level of intimacy we had experienced with our snuggly siblings. Host dadddy even felt comfortable enough to ask me why my parents got divorced and how much my trip cost. I pretended not to understand these questions... But really there were several magical moments our last few days living amid cacao, ratones and plantain. Leo and I had an animal noise-making contest and the lion roar that comes our of this three year olds mouth is unbelievable. The pancakes were an incredible success. But i have to say my brothers and my late-night "scrambled pancake" invention ended up being of extreme importance,(No-stick pans have not been invented in Ecuador yet.) We planted our last tree and rejoiced. Almost 4,000 in 30 days! Andersons 9th birthday was on the 21st and we celebrated with traditional reggaeton music and a hardy portion of chicken and rice. And I my dancing skills ended up being a humorous source of entertainment. It made me happy to see my family laughing even if was at my expense. Our last night the entire community came together and had a 6 hour fiesta where we were permitted to indulge in a few bottles of Pilsner, the local brew which also happens to be the grossest beer in the world. But i couldn't resist sharing a drink with host daddy (who i have guestimated weighs about 90 pounds) and taking pride in the fact that i could at least match his alcohol intake. I also learned that 8 year old kids dance in a comparable manner to high-school kids in the U.S. I can only assume this is the natural effect of reggaeton on the human body. Our last night i was sitting in the kitchen (because our sleeping quarters didnt have a light) and reflecting about the past month of my life in journal. Host mommy, who was beginning to realize that i was always hungry, secretly prepared me some plantains and a hard boiled egg. How far we came!

The following morning we got up bright and early to head to Quito and said our last goodbyes with our family. I don't know if i was more touched or confused when mommy started to cry, but i couldn't help but tear up myself when i hopped in the camioneta and saw my familia disappearing into the distance. A family that had completely defied my expectations, good and bad, of what i had anticipated and even hoped for. I guess I had assumptions that i wasnt even aware of: that the family would feel inclined to give even though they had little, that they would be interested in myself and not my wealth, and that they were somehow unaffected by so many of the consumerist aspects that i associate with American culture. But there failure to live up to these expectations ended up making my experience richer and more educational then i could ever have predicted. To be adopted by a family with such different standards of living for an entire month, really gets rid of any facade of the common perception of poverty. At first i found myself noticing the differences between us: the stuff we have, the things we value, the food we eat. With time these differences seemed to dissolve and the similarities that were once overshadowed by such overwhelming circumstances came in to light. I began to see the ambitious and some may even say unlikely dreams that we both possessed. My eight year old sister, who was still struggling to answer her three digit addition problems, aspires to one day become to president of Ecuador. My father, who struggles to support his family because of the variability of market crop pricing, has taken the initiative to be one of the key players in bringing a Chocolate micro-enterprise to Bua. My three year old brother Leo showed me that laughter has no language barrier nor does it discriminate against age or heritage. And perhaps what was the most profound was the fact that when i told them my goals and dreams, they accepted and supported them and vocalized their faith in the power of individuals to make change; something that we both strongly believed in. Regardless of what their incentives were about having two foreigners living in their house, a cultural exchange occurred that surely had an impact of both parties. Now, laying comfortably on my mattress in our urban hostel, i reflect on my days in Bua and begin to accept the reality that this family will only live on in my memory. They have no address nor email, no telephone or myspace. So i guess i'll just have to wait until Magdelena is the President of Ecuador...

Bua....

It´s getting harder and harder to smile and laugh at many of the unfarmiliar obstacles we are coming in contact with. I think everyone in our group agrees that Calypso and I have the most difficult living situation. The bathroom and the not showering i can get past but when youre awoken in the mmiddle of the night by warm liquid running down your leg things start to get beyond livable. And by warm liquid i mean piss. Sleeping in general has been hard because our host brother is afraid of the dark and is constantly switching his flashlight in the middle of the night. And there´s the rats that are constantly munching on the food surplus in our room (which doubles as the pantry). But this has all made for some funny midnight dramas. The other night the rats were so noisy and distracting that Anderson went to get his dad, asleep just a curtain away. His dad walked in, pool stick at hand with his wife close behind, and began to viciously stab any mysterious animal that was invaiding the food. Once we got over the inicial shock we all just began to laugh and hope that he had killed something. After about five minutes of near war and no found casualties he gave up, but confidently said ¨Ya salgo,¨ it already left. If only i trusted this man...
Food has also been an increasingly pressing issue. Each day were given another meager serving of plantains and rice if were lucky. And this could be Calypso and I just conspirisizing out of starvation but were pretty sure our family is hording all of the good food and keeping it for themselves. The other day we saw them eating chicken and carrots and were on the verge of attack.
Unfortunetly enough ive been really sick for the past week. I was running a 104 fever and am pretty sure i threw up half of my body weight. But this weekend has been amazing. It our first independent student travel trip and me and two other crazies decided to venture down to the small andean resort town of Banos. Our first night we ended up jamming with locals, meeting some friendly Australians, and sitting in the back of a painted VW mini bus with some travel bums from the US. Yesterday i Bungee Jumped! 120 meters off of a bridge in the middle of a narrrow valley with raging river beneath. It was such a terrifying but envigorating experience. The people who were giving us directions before we jumped didnt speak any english and it seemed right then that my 6 years of spanish went out the window. I couldnt look down once i was standing on top of the bridge. Goodthing the word superman is the same in spanish and engligh because all the guy kept on teling me was SALTA COMO SUPERMAN! jump like superman! I´m pretty sure i passed out after about 2 and a half seconds of freefall but was quickly brought back to life by the wiplash...
So i actually wrote all of that a week ago but the computer died so i couldnt finish it. Only 5 more nights in BUA and to be honest i am really realy to begin our next adventure. Not only has the living situation been difficult but the project were doing here is a testement to the difficulties and confilcts that come into play with development projects. The village were working with is a perfect microcosm of globalization taking place in an indigenous village. The farmers were working with will have a cell phone in one hand and a machette in the other; such seemingly polarized technologies when it comes to novelty. The combination of the introduction of inorganic trash and a lack of community education makes for a seriously unasthetic and unhealthy working environment. There have been times when i have been digging to plant a tree and i have had to dig through diapers and medicine bottles just to make a hole. Inicially i felt that our time could have been better spent doing a different project because it seemed that there were so many other more drastic problems that need attencion in the community. And our partner grassroots organization told us we were going to be doing reforestation but really were doing an ¨agroforestry project¨ which seems to translate to helping local farmers plant fruit trees to eventally sell or wood trees to be cut down. But other than that, life is getting better everyday!
We have several characters in our group and many hours are wasted away laughing mindlessly. We were placed in homestay families so that there would be one person with some spanish speaking abilities. And we were all surprised when the organization paired Bridget and Johnny who are not only two of the funniest kids on the trip but neither of them speak spanish. Or really Bridget didnt pay much attencion during her 4 years of high school spanish...But anyway three weeks into the homestay they pretty much gave up trying to communicate with their family. They would bring dictionarys to dinner and look up words but there family never seemed to understand. It wasnt until they found out that their spanish skills, or lack there of really, werennt the problem. There family only spoke Sanfiki, the native indigenous language.
I also had my first experience with South American narcotics. Dont worry parents, not cocaine...but i wouldnt be surprised if the medication i took mwas durived from the same plant. I got some unlabeled sketchy medication that was apparently for a high fever and diahrea. Lets just say i havent pooped in five days... And the trip leaders are pretty sure i have a parasite and thats whats causing my weakened immune system and tummy issues. Uh oh!
I´m picking up a light wieght halloween costume this week to carry up the 4 day hike to Matchu Pichu. I´m thinking slutty Inca girl, but havent settled on anything yet.
Calyspo and I elected to cook breakfast tomorrow morning to avoid one more day of fried plantains. I think were going to pick up some pancake mix today. WHOOOOOO!!
I would give anything for a chocolate chip cookie right now. Last night dinner was literally a fried chunk of cheese and what has been informally dubbed as ¨the log¨ by our group. The way its made is you squish up and planain and then reshape it back into the figure of a plantain. Its so bizarre and has no taste. But yes that was dinner and I´m so hungry!
5 more days. I can do it! Ill be able to blog much more often now, its jyst everytime weve had internet access ive been too sick to use a computer. So hopefully on thursday ill post again. FROM QUITO! cant wait, but still finding a way to love and learn in every moment.

Techno, the Universal Language. Farting the Universal Laugher-Maker

So i write to you all in Santo Domingo, a literal concrete jungle, littered with trash, sewage, and hair gel. About 20k from here is Bua, the small Satchilah Village that we have been staying in for the past three nights. Upon arriving to the Puebla we each hoped off the back of a truck and were set into our homestay houses in pairs. When my parter, Calyspo, and i hoped off of the truck we were greeted by two timid parents and four anxious kids who would become my adobted family for the next four weeks. The kids Anderson 8, Magdelena 6, Leo 3, and Julio 1 have since become our sleeping buddies for the past few nights. The family only has two double beds for the 6 members alone so Calypso and I somehow squeeze on to a bed with Magde and Ande. Their house is made of cement bricks and has just a tin roof that sits unbound on the top of the house. Just two tiny rooms, one for cooking and one for sleeping, is all they have, but as the majority of poor families here they somehow managed to fit a small TV in to the corner of the bedroom. Meals have consisted of starch and carbs, yuccah, potatoes and plantains. Definitely not my first choice of food. The kids love my bose head phones and my polaroid camera and most of all, the activity that brings the most joy and laughter into the house seems to be the farting. Perhaps it´s all the starch, parasites, or the altitude or maybe just an unfortunate indiginous gene, but whatever it is it´s ceasless. The kids are always farting and when we toot just a little an eruption of uncontralable laughter outbursts. One thing sort of on the same subject is the toilet, or hole rather. The bathroon that our family uses is more or less a hole in the ground dug between a few small trees. AHH So the next time you flush your toilet, eat anything yummy or take a sip of water think of me, and then say a little prayer, or at least send a ball of energy (k!). BTW we are showering in the River that we have come to restore which doubles as their sewage system, septic tank, laundry room, and pesticide collector. To wash or not to wash?
Last week we had a five days of work in Quito, Ecuadors Capital, sprawling east to west in a valley of the Andes Mountains. We stayed in a small hostel and spent the days visiting water plants and sanitacion experts, dancing with Salsa teachers and Ecuadorian gentleman, and practicing spanish with teachers and locals alike. At night we got in to a routine of going to a hole in the wall discoteca near our hostel. Many a nights were spent fist-pumping and dancing uncontrolably with the Ecuadorians who were brave enough to step in to a rave with a bunch of Gringos.
Our first project here is reforestation. Yesterday alone we dug, watered, and planted 300 cacao trees! woooo. Planting is hard and dirty and when you dont have a comfy bed or shower to come home to it can make the situation a little funny and a lot uncomfortable. Our bed, which is made of a wooden frame and a few pieces of wood laying perpendicular, breaks nightly and makes rolling over or readjusting a bit difficult.
So i am taking these malaria pills that are supposed to give you ¨colorful vivid dreams¨ and give you mood swings and make you depressed. I have been experiencing all three. Or maybe the depression part has to do something with me checking my email once a week and only have inbooxes from Priceline. But i dont know.
Anyway we are heading back to Bua right now, so no internet for a week¨...Adios

Poop and other Adventurous Subjects

So one thing that has taken some getting used to is the way the Costa Ricans go to restroom. Not because it's disgusting or dirty but really because it's so similar to the way we do it in America, with one small difference. Here they separate to toilet paper from the "human waste." As you can imagine this can be hard to remember and can result in some unanticipated "fishing." But the other day this simple difference led to an even funnier and, perhaps, more grotesque incident. Me and two other girls were winding down one night sitting outside of out screened in room contemplating boy problems, girl problems, and the surrendering of our vices. At a moment of weakness one of the girls decided to smoke a cigarette to relax and calm down. When we were done outside i went to use the bathroom (it had by then reached the point where we didn't feel the need to close the door, so accordingly i left it open) and one of the girls can in and but the cigarette out in the trash can. In a matter of seconds our trash was up in smoke and i intuitively reacted by sticking my hand in the pile of tissue to put out the fire, but in those few seconds i had forgotten that it wasn't a pile of used tissues but used toilet paper. Upon realizing what i had just done the two girls erupted in laughter. Before i knew it one was peeing in the near by shower (i was still using the toilet) and the other was filling up her hands with water from the sink to put out the fire. Once the fire was out we all continued to laugh for minutes more myself seated on the toilet, another pants down in the shower and another trying to maintain her footing on the tile floor. Needless to say, i washed and sanitized my hands thoroughly afterwords.
The past few days have been packed with seminars applying our knowledge of development and to questions such as "How big is the world?" "Can you live in America without affecting the lives of others?" "What do we assume about ourselves and others?" and "Who is responsible for development?" It's been both rewarding and disappointing that these questions lead to no clear answers but really just a greater number of more directed and specific questions. One thing I can say with confidence is that they are incredibly relevant and vital for every human, "developed" and not, to think about. I really could go on and on about how interesting and stimulating the classes have been but, for the sake of keeping you alert, that will do for now.
Today, as i have done most days, i got up a few hours before breakfast and carried my board to the beach to surf. Me and two other surfer-wanna-bees arrived at la playa and it was super low tide but the waves were huge. After getting beat up by the big stuff we decided to regain our confidence and just catch the white-water. ONce i was ready i made the tough paddle out to behind the where the big ones broke. There were several moments when i was on my board paddling in over a wave and thinking to myself "oh my god, this could be the end." They were huge, but i wanted to catch a big one so i reminded myself of all of the tips Del and Big Mike gave me on my lessons from Hawaii and right then i saw the perfect wave to drop in on. I paddled hard and when self doubt crossed my head i didnt even recognize it, i just kept paddling, stood up, and before i knew i was ripping down the face of the wave. It was the first time ive had a drop that big and it was awesome. A great way to start the say.
Anyway, feel free to email anyone, apparently Wallace is the only one who remembers me...BUT i love the comments! And SUSAN!! thank you and BGs love you. Everyday just gets better and better. Off to Ecuador on Saturday for a briefing in Quito and then we begin our homestays and projects in Bua. More to come. Love you all.

Continued..

Our discussions unlike any dialogue i've ever participated in. IN high school i remember, rightfully so or not, a lack of enthusiasm to contribute to in a class room setting because i didnt feel it was an appropriate audience to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of. But here every one has such a thorough understanding of the material that we are covering which enables the discussions to reach a much higher, more thoughtful level. I find myself not only inspired by what everyone has to say but challenged and encouraged to think more and harder than ever before. Yesterday, during the time allotted to writing a letter to ourselves to be opened in MAy, i decided to sit by the pool and catch some sun, sparing in the monsoon season here. I was quickly distracted by two local boys who were swimming in the pool and looking at me and giggling quietly. After a few unproductive minutes i decided to ask them what was so funny (in spanish, of course.) This quickly turned in to a underwater holding-your-breath contest followed by other simple pool games. One of the kids, Jordan, challenged me to race him across the pool underwater. The pool, which i think way contain more chlorine that water, was irritating my eyes terribly so i decided to close my eyes and just wait until i hit the wall on the other side. The race began and underwater i held my breath and did about 4 strokes of underwater breast stroke and was quickly put to a stop by the pool wall, except instead of my hands reaching the wall it was my head. I emerged from the water with a cut on my forehead, the bridge of my nose, and on the interior of my upper lip. Let's just say big lips actually don't look good on me. Yes, i swam into the pool wall. So my first wound abroad, (mom please dont get on a plane and fly to Costa Rica, I'm fine, really.) But about to begin another seminar on "Fear" so got to go. ok bye

CO-A-TE and Academia

We've been staying at a hostel in a small beach town called Ballea for the fast 5 nights now. We have reached the point to where the "how many siblings do have?" conversation has mostly come to an end. With that some real characters have began to emerge in the group. ANGIE or KAILEE if you're reading this, CO-A-TE has slowly but surely declared her tittles and the self proclaimed "LOD." Good thing there are a lot of people here to laugh with. To mention names or even recollect certain stories would be problematic given that my blog has been discovered by other members of the group. So as much as i would have loved to be a world traveling gossip-girl unfortunately that's not going to happen.
This morning myself and two other travelees decided to make to 30 minute walk to the beach with surf boards in hand to catch come OBOMERS (waves.) Our journey began at 6 to the rising sun and before we knew it we were in the warm pacific water, getting destroyed by waves. Luckily we all made it back in one piece to a breakfast of Gayo-pinto to eight. Each day we have a few seminars discussing topics such as "What is development?" "Who are you, and is that defined by yourself or how others perceive you?" BAh ok someones talking over this computer i'll finish tonight. more to come!

Planes, People, and Pizza

Today began really as a continuation of yesterday. Amid last nights frantic packing, modge-podging, picking out flattering family pictures and downloading the several discographies little sleeping was had. Actually no sleep at all unitl my flight to ATL at 5 am. where i passed out on the trey-table. Then another, stightly more alert flight to Houston where i met the rest of my traveling buddies. Immidiately after i got off the plane in HOU i saw another student who i had recfognized from the student contact information tbb had given us. After a few awkward minutes of stealthy stalking on my part i did my first dive of the day and introduced myself. Turns out it was one of the kids from my program, SAM, and we were both confused and desperately seeking a companion to make our way to the other terminal. To our luck, both of us had a terrible sence of direction and invaded utility elevators and several other places we probably should have been but eventually made it to Termial D. There we were greeted by a few farmiliar faces and went through monotonous introductions even though Im pretty sure we all knew eachothers names, home towns, and whether we were "rudamentary" or "conversational" in three different languages. Not quickly after introductions i walked with a few other students to go get a coffee and a muffin at the only place selling food in the international terminal. When i was forcing the plastic lid onto my coffee cup i pushed a little too hard and the coffe literaly spilled all over my face and white tank top. The kids i was with didnt know whether to laugh or run over to me with hand fulls of napkins. I cleaned myself up and tried to regain any good opinions anyone had formed of me. Flight number three to san salvador with a gas stop in Belieze. ON the last flight from San S to San Jose some one had taken my assigned seat so she could sit with her husband and she asked me if i would switch. I agreed (in spanish!) and ended up in the middle seat of an exit row between two burly men. Inicially i was pissed off at the woman and wanted to go practice my spanish curse words but my6 mind quickly changed once i began to talk to the men. The one on my riht was the Head of the Latin American Habitat for Humanity and the one to my right was the sustainable energy advisor for contries all over the world. I left not only with a load of new facts about green energy and consumption but with two buisness cards!!! NETWORKING. WE finally arrived at our hostel in San Jose at 10 pm and had a traditional Costa Rican meal...PIZZA! then quick dip in the pool and now sleep with my new buds. thanks parents! love you. More to come.

BIG LOVE, lucy pura vida

I don’t like to call it a gap, a year-off an interim.  Because really it’s none of those things.  A gap is an empty space, surrounded on both sides by content or matter (in this case, high school and college.)  But this year is hardly one that could be described by the word “gap” or anything synonymous with it.  I look forward to living with host families in eight different countries, coming face to face with some of the words most pressing challenges, and seeing how I can contribute myself in the future to those many varied issues.  But for now I am saying goodbye.  Goodbye to my car (which my dad has decided to sell?) goodbye to my phone (unless you have bbm!) goodbye to chocolate fondants and blondies cookies.  A few, more personal, goodbyes have already been had.  I walked in to what used to be called Sam’s room; now Charlie’s room of course, and quietly interrupted his game of WOW and facebook chat.  Then it went a little something like this…

           

              “Charlie I’m leaving….” no answer, “forever.”

            “Oh yeah I forgot about that, Bye lus.”  Charlie then reached his hand from down his pants and gave me a weak one handed hung.

            “Love you Sidie,” I said with a grotesque look on my face.

            “Love you too,” I hear over the sound of his keys typing.

                                                       THE END

 

Less distant, and more thoughtful was my dad.  He walked me out to my car and when we neared the front headlights he said,

            “Be careful hugging me, watch out for my arm.” We hug “EEeeEEkkkKK,” he screeched with a painful look on his face.  Then a few seconds of recovery time passed.

            “Ok, have an amazing year, learn a lot, and wear a helmet whenever there’s an opportunity.”

            “Thanks dad.” I said.  Then we exchanged a few, brief, more thoughtful words and that was that. See you in May.

 

Right now it is 11:08, Tuesday night and everything and more that is supposed to fit into my tiny backpack is strewn across my bedroom floor.  I threw away the suggested packing list and compiled my own supply of necessary objects.  Two to Three T-shirts? For one year?  Needless to say I am bringing 12.  It gets worse 5-7 pairs of undies? I decided to times that by four.  I have yet to attempt to fit all of my highly practical belongings into that tiny backpack…talk about pressing challenges, my plane leaves in six hours.  I also have to make room for my vision board, 4 cameras, 50 sheets of stickers and a year’s supply of tampons. BAH.  As Helen says, “See you on the other side!”

                                               

                                                                        Big Love, Lucy