Goat parking

Padre Chupa

I continue to discover new shades of green amidst the patchwork, rolling hills and ravines of the Andean ´sierra' region. Otavalo is situated in the midst of various volcanoes and their respective hills and small mountains. The topography makes transportation a real issue in accessing healthcare, though buses, trucks delivering gas, and even potatoe venders make the trek to surprisingly distant communities. And though bouncy to say the least, my charge of meeting with community leaders and school presidents before the upcoming health brigades has been a real treat. Accompanied by an impossibly sweet cab driver - the best grandfather character and a wonderful conversation parter, I´ve hopped around to a handful of the communities we will be visiting, to deliver letters and concrete information as to when the bus full of medications, doctors, and a guitar will be appearing. As Tandana has longstanding relationships with all these communities my job has been very easy, the hardest part being tracking down presidents living in communities with no cell service. Luckily, when lost and asking for directions from the man wrangling his horse in the driveway, sometimes you that very man is the president.

Beautiful traditional women´s wear + reproductive health

As preping for the health brigades has ramped up, I´ve said goodbye to my lovely hosts at a number of health centers. As per usual, the most interesting of these departures was with the nurse Mercedes, who was doing another training with local midwifes, this time on pregnancy risks and warning signs.The training started with a video, describing conception and quickly segwaying to a horrifyingly graphic and propogandized piece on abortion, produced by the Catholic church. Eventually the head doctor at this clinic ran out of the room, returning with a different video, which actually pertained to pregnancy risks. I´m still not sure if it was an honest mistake or an intentional move.

Yesterday, I luxuriously emerged from my now-pretty-smelly-sleeping bag to find the sun shining and the puppy playing. It was awesome, particularly after a week straight of gloom and rain, thanks to my oh so romantic description of the harsher weather. Like a dummy, I left the house with not a jacket nor rain coat, relishing the rays of sunshine (and getting sunburned) and freezing from 2pm on when the downpour began. The day epitmozed the weather here - no month-based seasons but all possible weather within any given day.

In a few weeks I´ll be leaving here, and as always is the case, I'm now more than ever 'at home' with my family and finding friends in the community. Though my routines feel normal and Otavalo familiar, stills from the community and town continue to capture my attention :

Post-market goat parking

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Thunderstorms and puppies

The headlamp yet again proves to be the best object in all the lands.

We hustled the 10 ft. across our courtyard into the small two room addition to eat dinner. It had been spitting all day and the rain was starting to pick up. Sitting on tiny benches or the one large woven mat, eating by the fire always puts me in a good mood, both for the palpable communal energy generate by eating in such close quarters as well as the rich flavors that accompany cooking on wood rather than gas. Last night, out of the caldron (I think reading Harry Potter in Spanish is affecting my vocab...) my mom poured out fava beans and potatoes while my dad used the mortar and pestle to pulverize the aji peppers and chives into a thin but flavorful salsa, as we would say. One of my brothers mixed the toasted corn kernels with fresh though flavorless cheese from a hacienda up the hill, while the youngest arrived carrying the obligatory stack of bowls and spoons (the only utensils we use). The rain was now at a solid downpour, the open windows in the unfinished cement room facilitating a crazy conversion of heat from the fire and cold wet air, shoving the smoke to the top two feet of the room.

Best surprise to ever -  arrived in a sac of potatoes

I sat in my happy corner; Diana resting on one leg occasionally throwing her hair into my food, Abuelita on my other side, invading my personal space as always and making fun of my inability to spit out the fava bean casings with any competency, and behind me, the most recent addition to the family, an adorable golden puppy nuzzling into my back to try and sleep away the new-home and rain-storm scares.

The first bolt of lightning lit up the sky about two potatoes into dinner, with the thunder waiting a polite six or seven seconds to release the pent up screams of all the kids. With every bolt, everyone said a prayer and touched their head, torso, and shoulders in the form of a cross - I recieved more confused looks than usual when I failed to follow suit.

Shameless puppy photo shoot ensued

After many rounds of lightening and water creeping in the corners of the room, electricity had had enough - a ground shaking roar that gave me that exhilirating, unweildy-storm feeling as well, did the community power system in and the lights (naked lightbulb hanging from the roof) went out. Diana leaped into my lap spilling tea all over, the dogs started crying louder, and grandma and I went by light of a cell phone to find back up - candles and my headlamp. We rigged the light to the ceiling, wolfed down the rest of our food, and raced across the small pond now in the courtyard.

I fell asleep feeling like a tiny but wholly integrated part of this amazing, powerful world. My lips burned from the aji, my hair still wet from the fleeting moments outside findings lights and feeding the pigs, the continuing downpour, intermittent thunder, and little bits of Latin pop music coming from a brothers phone, left me feeling content and sleeping like a baby.

On a totally unrelated note, here is one of the few pictures from last weekend, when I went to Ambato with my friend Jake for Carnaval. In lieu of throwing water, Ambato celebrates with a parade of fruits and flower. That being said, kids and adults alike were still ruthless in their foam attacks of the two tall gringos.