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...