Pondering Purpose

After almost 7 months at site, I have had a lot of time to reflect on my role as a Peace Corps volunteer. Without much of a mandate, starting projects has been hard and free time has been ample. As you may imagine, it can be difficult to find motivation when you have no fixed work plan and you rarely report to your superiors.

There are many days in which I find myself without a schedule. I wake up and must decide how to fill my time. On these days, I end up reading a lot, going into town for sundries, cooking an intensive meal, baking a pie, walking the countryside, talking with people in my village, working in my garden, handwashing laundry, taking care of my chickens, or playing soccer with local kids. Some of these days are supremely satisfying, especially when I make a new connection, learn something new and interesting, or at least not sit around and do literally nothing. Some of these days, however, I feel futile. What is my position here? What can these people really learn from me? Am I intergrating as well as I could be? Will my community be better off when I leave? Am I giving as much as I am getting out of this experience? These questions fill my mind on those days in which I feel purposeless. While that is a shame to ever think of oneself, Peace Corps work requires patience, persistence, and the ability to fail.

Instead of allowing these darker thoughts to permeate my person, I try to use them as a point of motivation. (What better than lack of purpose and futility as a means of motivation? Or what worse?)

On the days in which I have something scheduled, I of course feel much more purposeful and utilized. This may include english class at the school, working in the school garden with the kids (which is starting to look quite productive), or cooking class. Yup, my zuchinni, banana, and apple-carrot breads have enjoyed such wild popularity with the Ecuadorians with whom I have regular contact, I have begun a weekly cooking class. Wednesdays at 2 PM in Messi Astaya´s house, for any of my readers who may be interested.

The first week I put up flyers around town advertising a ¨Clase de Hornear con Jacobo¨. I had originally hoped to teach the village mothers how to bake these sweet breads. Their children would certainly be grateful. However, only three such mothers showed up for the first class. I instead got a nice slice of life (mothers, children, fathers, teenagers). The same group met up the following week to make pizza, and I mentioned the possiblity of turning this into a microenterprise. We would bake during the week and sell our product at the Sunday market in town. As momma always said, ¨We shall see¨.

Although I find myself pondering my real purpose here during slow times, I look around at the place in which I live and consider myself lucky. If all it takes is a few flyers around town to get a project started, there is nothing holding me back from making a real impact.

School Garden

The greatest challenge thus far in my Peace Corps service has been creating my own work. I was placed in my town of 400 people with no real counterpart to help me in the process of integration or give me direction in my work. So, I fill my days trying to get farmers excited about organic agriculture, talking to them abstractly about building a composting toilets, tending to my garden and chickens, as well as walking the countryside. Beyond this, I work with the school both teaching English classes and running the garden. Because it is a consistent obligation (rather than sporadic meetings with random campesinos), I get to work closely with kids, and I can directly view the results of my work, what I do with the school has given me the most satisfaction of anything yet.

The previous volunteer had a school garden as well, but only used a small portion of the land available. After negotiating with the town´s group of mothers, I have full license to use the land as I see fit.

Each 7th grade student gets their own plot of land, upon which they plant, tend, and harvest. I provide the seeds (some of which I got donated, some of which I bought) and help them with both techical knowledge and the physical labor. Anything harvested goes directly to the kitchen to feed the entire student body during lunch.

The degree to which they take pride in their own land is incredible. I expected to constantly provide motivation for them to work on their plot, since after class every afternoon, they find themselves working their family´s land as a chore. Yet, even when I am not present, they are out in the hot sun watering, weeding, or simply admiring their work. Must be either the spirit of competition or challenge of doing it all by themselves, but I have some good gardeners at my disposal.

Looking into the future on this project, I would like to make it sustainable. Instead of just a few students planting vegetables during the school year, I want to include more grade levels, build a greenhouse and composting toilet, as well as get some animals to 1) provide pest control, 2) manure, and 3) protein in the student´s daily lunch diet.

Unfortunately, these fine ambitions require money, the likes of which will not come from the Ecuadorian Ministry of Education. Therefore, in the next few weeks, keep your eyes out for a means of donating both to this school garden project and my composting toilet project.

Pictures Explained:

1) Me distributing seeds wearing my indigenous outfit.

2) 7th grade students showing the seeds they are about to sow.

3) Happy face.

-2 to 6 months

After requests for yet more pictures, I have created a Picasa photo album to link to this blog.
This album summarizes my first 8 months in country though the various events for which I had my camera. For your viewing pleasure.


http://picasaweb.google.com/schwarz.jacob/2To6Months?feat=directlink

Cotopaxi

Cotopaxi Volcano. 19, 344 ft above sea level. The second highest peak in Ecuador and among the tallest active volcanos in the world. A type example of a stratovolcano. In Kichwa, Cotopaxi means ¨Collar of the Sun¨. Aptly named for the shape the sun makes when it peaks its cone-shaped body.

Hiking this mountain was definitely among the top 5 most intense things I have ever done. Up there with summiting two Colorado fourteeners in one day while winter backpacking, biking over 90 miles per day across the Nevada summer desert, and skydiving.

Logistics:

Sunday afternoon - Gear check and hike to Refuge (4800 meters, 15, 800 feet.) Learn to walk on the glacier with crampons and an ice axe. Try to rest.

Monday morning - Wake up at midnight. Dress, eat breakfast, and begin climbing by 1 AM. Reach glacier at 2 AM. Begin ice climbing. Reach summit at 6 AM just as the sun is rising.

Here I show myself and my 5 companions doing our gear check before our hike to the refuge. I cannot decide whether Jack there on the left ruined the picture or enhanced it with the behind the legs crotch-grab.

I came highly equipped for this climb. Layers included 3 pair wool socks, two pair glove liners and one pair waterproof winter mittens, three layers on bottom, 5 layers on top, a scarf, a bandana for the face, and two hats. In my opinion, unless you are Sam Horstmann, no matter how many layers you wear, you will freeze your ass off.

Regardless of all these layers, most of my group neglected to bring along a sleeping bag. Not for the climb itself, but for easy resting in the Refuge before its start. With the temperature hovering around freezing, we lay spooning on top of bare mattresses wearing all of our layers. More than rest or relaxation, this was a period of mental preparation.

Hiking to Refuge from the parking lot below. You can see our equipment on our backs and the behemoth mountain towering above us.

The hike itself started out harmless enough. After an hour of hiking up scree, we reached the glacier. From then on, the going got easier with crampons and ice axes. Two climbers per guide connected by a rope. As it was dark most of the way up, we could neither see the large drop offs awaiting us below 8-inch-wide ledges, nor peer into the depths of the ice cravasses we so giddily jumped across. Say hello to our energetic 3 AM faces. One of the first stops, and not yet drained of energy or sick from altitude.

The sun came up as we were just below the summit. The entire night had been headlamps and lack of visibility. When the sun came up, and the colors of the sunrise replaced the darkness of stars and night sky, the beauty was tantamount to anything in my recent past. Out of this world.

The summit was invigorating, but not quite as climatic as one may expect. We got caught in a snow storm with zero visibility, not to mention temperatures far below zero Fahrenheit and piercing winds. After the obligatory yodeling, pushups, and summit photo, my two American companions and I started down. A few minutes down, we encountered the other three from our group. One was vomiting from altitude sickness, another hallucinating stars in the air and electricity flowing through his rope, and the third (we were told) passed out in the snow 30 seconds after our salutation. Regardless of the challenges, all six of us made it to the top.

I did not feel much altitude sickness. This I found strange, since it has affected me at 12,000 feet. The most I felt was some lightheadedness and dizziness walking down. Goes to show that it affects everyone differently and can be very unpredictable.

Once all down (at 9 AM remind you), the collective attitude was one of such miserable fatigue that although it was a great experience, we would never attempt such a crazy mountain again. An hour later, back in the van on our way to Quito, we decided to attempt Chimborazo (longer, taller, steeper, and with more ice, but 1) the point in the world both farthest from the center of the earth and 2) the point closest to the sun).

Smorgasbord

While sauntering recently, I stumbled upon a group of young boys at the irrigation reservoir. When full, they treat it as a swimming pool. None had gone in yet, so I agreed to go first if they all followed. We had some swimming races, caught a few fish, and basked in the sun. Afterwards, we searched the forest for wild blackberries, topping off the biggest event of my day.

For the past few months, I have cringed every time I buy a carton of milk. Costing the same (if not more) than in the U.S., warm in a box, and pumped full of hormones for preservation, milk was not my favorite thing to buy. My desire for calcium and vitamin D routinely overcame these other factors and I forked over the money. However, I recently found a family about 30 meters up the road who not only has a cow and milks every day, but also sells the milk. 5 liters for $2.50. Fresh out of the cow´s utter, I must boil it to kill any bacteria. The wholest of whole milk I have ever tasted.

5 AM. Coastal bus terminal. Post overnight bus trip. Weird black insect I've never seen before. Bite! My hand swelled so large I could neither see my knuckles nor make a fist. I took no comparative picture, so imagine a hand of the chubbiest little baby you have ever seen. Larger though.

I already showed you the style of houses built by those living at the highest altitudes in Ecuador (Reference: El Páramo entry). Here is a house built at the lowest possible elevation. Propped on stilts and made of wood, it is designed to monopolize the ocean front property while not drowning in the high tide. Next installment: the jungle hut.

After a few missed opportunities and misinformed attempts, I attended the weekly Animal Fair in Otavalo. Planning only to check prices and find the strangest animal for sale, I wandered through pigs, horses, goats, cuy, sheep, cows, ducks, chickens, roosters, and people making lots of noise. I succumbed quickly and bought 2 chicks and 2 ducklings. Bargained down from $6 to $5. They are currently set up in a little house outside getting accustomed to a lot more space than they have ever seen. When the ducklings get larger, I will install a small pond so they can to swim. The chicks should be fully mature in two months, while the ducklings will take about four. At which point my amigos and I will slaughter and eat them, while drinking and being merry. Mmm, duck.

I had trouble keeping these cute little birds in my hands for a proper picture. As you can see, they are timid and scared on their first morning in new housing. Coming from a crowded box with dozens of others of their own species, these two pairs had probably never seen any creatures beside their own kind. By the random choice of the vendors arm , I bought these two particular ducklings and these two particular chicks. The developing dynamic of this incipient group sparks my scientific curiosity. At first, the pairs maintained special (speecial) loyalty, huddling close to their partner. They then began exploring their new housemates, the smaller ducklings retreating behind the larger chicks when their scary new human owner entered their quarters. They now travel as a group, feeding together, drinking together, and yes, retreating into the corner when I show up.

My village is currently celebrating the three year anniversary of the church. While hanging around the festivities yesterday, I started talking to some teenagers from a nearby town. They had a few musical instruments and asked me to play with them. After running to my house to grab my guitar and harmonicas, we played two songs for the crowd praising God as ¨todo poderoso¨. After our performance, we established a weekly time for me to teach them music. Their knowledge is very basic, they cannot yet hold a rhythm, and they get nervous in front of an audience. They already have instruments, they enjoy playing together, and they want to learn. The potential is astounding.

Census

Integration into a completely new community which functions with its own set of established rules has proved difficult. To ease the process, our superiors gave us specific instructions to conduct interviews of as many people as possible in the community. The purpose of this is two-fold: 1) to get to know the people and community more intimately, and 2) to see what they want and get some ideas for projects. An intimidating prospect, but doable once the motivation is found.

Once started, my project became almost academic in nature. I walked from house to house for about 2 hours each day, speaking with at least one person per household, jotting down notes in my brown Moleskine notebook.

To put some figures on my experience - I walked past 22 cows and 54 pigs. I encountered 4 people too drunk to answer my questions and 3 women unable to communicate due to the Kichwa language barrier. I was bit by 1 dog (through my Carhartt work pants). I quickly learned to walk with an intimidation stick. The interview process took me 2 1/2 weeks.

The questions went as follows:

1) How many people live in this household?
2) How many years does each person have?
3) By what means do you earn money?
4) What do you have planted right now?
5) How do you dispose of trash? Burn or throw in the river?
6) Are you part of any community groups?
7) What is your house made of? Packed earth or concrete blocks?
8) Do you own a television? B&W or Color?
9) Do you use chemicals on your crops?
10) If you could raise your standard of living, what would you require?

_________________________

Please excuse the lack of figures, I tried many formats and my Excel graphs will not work on the blog.
_________________________

Population: 418
Average number per household: 6
Number of families: 27
Average number per family: 15.5
Number of interviews conducted: 69


-Trash Disposal-

Burn: 59 households
Throw in the river: 15 households


-Use of Chemicals-

Yes: 21
Sometimes: 18
No: 29


-Employment-

Agriculture: 50 households
Construction: 4
Store Owner: 3
Flower Plantations: 6
Misc: 17


-Television-

B&W: 26
Color: 30
None: 15


-Raise standard of living?-

Sewage system. As of now, there is no public sewage system in my village. They have running water and toilets, but the waste goes either into wells or into the drainages. The larger scale solution would be to install a public sewage system, but that is far outside of my control. I can however, teach them to make composting toilets. Two birds with one stone. No more sewage problem and copious organic compost.

Views from my house

I recently moved out from my host family to my own house. While I highly enjoyed living with them, the house was ready, I had culturally absorbed as much as I would from living there (in a concrete room with no windows and a roof that leaked), I looked forward to not getting woken up at 6 AM by crying babies, and I wanted to cook a little more protein into my diet. Ok, enough justification.

Here are the views looking west and east from my new house.

Picture 1 (looking west) you can see the corner of my house, the greenhouse, and part of the garden. In the middle I show the dirt road with no name as well as the Volcano Mama Cotacachi. It looks a lot bigger in real life.

Picture 2 (looking east) is much simpler, showing a recently-tilled field and the Volcano Papa Imbabura. Legend has it the mama and papa volcanos fornicated to form the valley below. This is technically the case, geologically, as lava mixing is the closest two volcanos can get to fornication.