A few highlights in pictures

Dear friends,

Though I have not written in months, I've come back to conclude this year with some final entries. Before I write about it all, though, I would like throw out some pictures that contain the highlights of the craziest, most challenging and exciting year of my life to date.

MADRID

Interning at FUNDESO, an NGO on Gran Via


Spanish family, meet my parents!


Hiking to the summit of Peñalara with good friends.


Snack time while hiking Cinque Terre, Italy.


St. Peter's Square with our new priest friends.


Ray Green, our resident director!


El Espinar weekends with my Spanish host mom, Rita.


Wandering the streets of Madrid with good friends and a great map.


ECUADOR

My host family, the Vallejos.


Thanksgiving at the Zalles house.



My sister Asya came to visit and that week we (LIGA de Quito) won the South American Cup!!


Extreme mountain biking down and around Cotopaxi with Anne and Mateo!


Halloween on our boat in the Galapagos!


Meeting a giant tortoise on the Galapagos Islands!


Ecuador vs Urguay FIFA qualifying game that didn't end the way we had hoped, but we made new friends!


Regular LIGA games.


Riding in the back of pick-up trucks all semester.


Bridge-jumping.


The crew at Papallacta hot springs outside of Quito.

What's a Jew to do?

Just realized that Passover starts on March 30, halfway through my pizza and pasta tour through Italy. My entire life, I've left chametz (bread) out of the picture for the week of Passover...what's a Jew to do?

The Frozen Phone

I brought my Ecuador phone to Madrid because I knew that the phone company Movistar was popular in Spain. Unfortunately, my Ecuador phone´s bandwidth or something along those lines did not match up to that of Spain. I had no choice but to buy a Spanish phone, but I left my Ecuadorian phone in my purse and never remembered to take it out. Yesterday, my friend was playing with her Spanish phone that looked a lot like my Ecuador phone, and when I took my phone out to compare, I was hit by a very melancholy sensation, indeed...

I turned on my Ecuador phone, just because. I saw my message inbox. I saw the outgoing calls. I saw my contact list which contained every person that made up my world for four months. Then it hit me that all of the numbers of my American friends in Ecuador were now null. I couldn´t come to understand if last semester had been only a dream or a parallel life. But, it was so real. Seeing all of this recent activity in my phone, I almost came to believe that my host brother or my friend Anne could call me at any moment.

With phone in hand, I can almost reach out and touch that life. But, the phone is frozen in time--in Decemeber 2009, and with each day I drift further and further away from that date. With time, that life really does come to seem more like a dream. But, then I turn my phone on, and it´s December 20, 2009. I know it´s silly for me to be attached to this little gadget, but all of my memories are stored within it. All my plans with friends, late-night conversations about the meaning of life, cute texts from crushes...

It´s there. December is living and breathing right before my eyes, if only for a moment, side by side with February 2010.

The Three Stooges

Stooges tend to come in threes, don't they. My friend had been wanting to go to an "intercambio" night at a local cafe for a few weeks now. Lately, I've been feeling restless, so I thought to myself why not take a nice walk to the cafe and get to know some gente.

I won't go into the entirety of what unfolded. It was one part of the conversation that my friend and I had with these three dudes from around Europe that took the cake. Of course, it was about religion.

One of the guys asked my friend and me if we were religious. Because I was feeling brave, and I do believe that it takes bravery to bring up my religion in Latin America and Spain sometimes, I said that I was Jewish.

Stooge 1: "What's that?"

Stooge 2: Put his hand on my arm and said "Let's do business"

Stooge 3: "See, that's what wrong with religion: priests raping little boys. Maybe there are
other religions out there, like Hinduism maybe (NOTE: no mention of Islam
or Judaism), but it's all bullsh*t. I'm sorry if I'm offending you by telling you
the truth about religion"

The last bit of what Stooge 3 said was a sentence-long summary of a ten minute-long rant.

That's all.

Roberta and the Piano Player

Friday night in Granada. I saw the worst performance (of any and every kind) of my life. My friends and I left in the middle of this "flamenco" show because I was on the verge of going up onto that stage myself and ripping the microphone from these peoples' hands. These performers were an embarrassment to art. After we bolted, we went on a hunt for a place that wouldn't make me want to throw anything at anyone. We came across this bar that required going down three dark, graffiti-ed ally ways. We walked in and heads turned. We were probably the first Americans to ever step foot in this place. We ran to a table, and I tried to make myself invisible. Flamenco playback music was blasting, and almost all the people in that bar clapped along. It was a dance party of hands.

Suddenly, a curious little man sat down at the piano a couple feet away from us. The bar staff silenced the speakers and this man began to jam. A girl came over and sat there watching him. My friends and I immediately began to create a storyline for them--whether they were together or not, what kind of lives they led...

We narrated their relationship for about an hour. There were moments of tension as, for example, when a man with a very bold mustache approached her and tried to steal attention from the curious little man. All this time, two other men had joined the curious little man at the piano and put on a great show.

We left this obscure bar that night not knowing what would become of this man and woman, but we were rooting for them.

Today, at five in the morning, my friend Elena and I walked up to the bus stop where we planned to catch the shuttle to the Granada airport. Our questions were answered in that moment. Out of all the people in Granada, standing at that bus stop at five in the morning were the curious little man and the cute girl intertwined in each others' arms! It turns out that they were very much in love. And mustache man, who showed up the bus station as well, was the third wheel. They weren't even Granada locals. They were Italian! And, even more coincidentally, on our flight back to Madrid.

So, we didn't even have to make up the end to that story. It played out right before our eyes. It's a crazy world we live in. We first saw these people in the darkest, most hidden bar in Granada and then found ourselves on the same flight days later.

Ryanair is a European adventure in and of itself

Dearest reader,

During the past three weeks that I spent coughing up both lungs and talking like the Godfather, nothing seriously amused me. Therefore, you see no posts from that rather dark time. However, everything changed this weekend when I took a trip to the south of Spain with my friends Elena and Neha (and Neha's parents visiting from Los Angeles).

This amusement which came in the form of an almost near-death experience can only be described in one word: Ryanair. Dear, sweet Ryanair with its 5 euro tickets and 50 euro fees. Do you, Ryanair, really think I didn't see those additional $5 charges for nothing at all that show up on my bank account every few weeks after I've paid everything you've stated in the fine print?

My Ryanair adventure began at three in the morning on Thursday, just three hours before my flight to Granada took off. Elena and I decided not to sleep that night, knowing that we would have to get up in the middle of the night anyway. We got to the Madrid Barajas Airport at 4:30 in the AM to find hundreds of young, mainly European college-age students who had obviously slept on the airport floor so as to not spend 30 euros on a taxi after the metro had stopped running.

The way Ryanair works is very simple. No one has assigned seats. Around boarding time, the passengers pushed and shoved to create a line. First come, first serve. When we finally boarded, we were not allowed to sit before row 9 and after row 25 for "the balance of the plane". You can imagine how "safe" I felt when the flight attendants told me this. Only one carry-on was allowed--including handbags, ladies. Not only that, but as the flight attendants checked the boarding passes at the gate, they made almost every single passenger put their bags in that measuring box to prove that they weren't over-sized. Yes, after check-in. After security. On my boarding pass, there was a warning to not attempt to buy an extra seat to try to bring two bags. What other airline in the world puts that as the fine print?

The entire flight the plane made noises that planes shouldn't make. And when we finally landed, alive, at seven in the morning, Ryanair woke us up with a recorded military trumpet wake-up call. Thank you, Ryanair.

On the way back to Madrid this morning, the security check-point didn't open until half an hr before our flight. But, that's just the Granada airport.

The point is: I'm alive. And I've shared my Ryanair adventure with dozens of young Europeans and Americans having their own shoe-string budget European adventures. I swear I've heard almost every language of Europe spoken in the past few days.

To more fun times with Ryanair!

Getting there...

Last week was rough. For starters, I was sick all week. My first few days at my internship made me realize how difficult my potential life path is. I was on constant information overload, and not knowing the right way to consolidate all of it was making me wonder if I'm cut out for this business. Madrid was slightly failing to keep me engaged. I didn't feel very connected to my host family, though they were nothing less than attentive and caring. Twelve hour days had never felt so long. I missed Ecuador more than I had ever before. I felt a little lonely even when I was with friends. I failed to book a single flight for this semester because Ryanair failed me. Spring break was (and still is) looking like a failure. I woke up every morning missing the sun because the way my window is set up/the hour the sun rises in Madrid, it's dark until almost nine in the morning! I was sick and tired of everyone from all over the world telling me how great Spain is and what I should see and how I should see it. Oh, and I'm gaining weight. Fast.

I was at no point regretting being here. I would much rather be abroad than in Boston right now. But, this heaviness set in and brought me down. So, dear reader, that was my first full week in Madrid. You know me, I'm always honest with you, and though I wish I could have written about some wonderful first week...well, it was what it was.

Good news, though. Things started looking up when I went on a day trip to Toledo with the program. Though everyone was tired, there was a happy buzz in the air. Plenty of good conversation throughout the day. Too many (but not enough) delicious coffee and pastries. The city itself was very charming. Just the cathedral of Toledo made my day. When we got back to Madrid, we decided to go to a club and dance till six in the morning. Used to going out dancing every weekend usually for free in dear, sweet Ecuador, and not having gone out dancing once in Madrid before last night, I finally felt at least a bit weight lifted off my shoulders. My body had been angry at me for not moving it for so long. Today, we went to a special exhibit at the Museo Thyseen. The exhibit, "Lagrimas de Eros" followed themes of erotic love and the death instinct from the sixteenth century to present day. Later, I went to see the new Spanish movie "Celda 211"--blew my mind!

I also connected more with my host family, my friends and my sense of direction in regard to what I want from this trip.

I apologize that these last few posts haven't been the amusing anecdotes I'm so used to sharing from my Ecuador days. But, this is what's going on in my life right now. I miss my family in Boston but I don't miss Boston itself. After Toledo, I'm all the more excited to travel around Spain. Maybe, one day, I'll call Madrid as I do Quito another home.

Oh, but I must share this. This makes me so angry, I can barely control myself. Bouncers at bars and clubs at Madrid are just plain old mean. I want to know what self-esteem issues they have that they take so much pleasure from belittling and insulting 20-year-old girls. I hope you don't have trouble sleeping with that dirty conscience of yours, Mr. Madrid security guard. Do you enjoy ruining teenage girls' nights with your snide remarks? Go take a look at yourself in the mirror and rethink your attitude problem. Geez.

Weekend Getaway

After going a whole semester without catching a cold (unheard of), here I am in Madrid "resfriada" my first week. That aside, last night I got back from a truly lovely weekend with my host family in my host mother's hometown, El Espinar. El Espinar is located in the mountains an hour away from the center of Madrid. I also brought along some friends, Elena and Dave...and our family dog, Pongo, of course!



Although we did hike for a few hours the first day, most of the weekend consisted of eating. We must have had what felt like six full meals the first day, and four the second. And the second day we only stayed until the afternoon. Soups, chorizo, chicken, garbanzos, cake, pastries, cheese, wine, more pastries, hot chocolate and churros, PAELLA, coffee, chocolate, pizza, and more!!



Below, are some pictures from our hike!




(That's my host mom and me above, by the way)

Primeros Dias

Where to begin, where to begin...

After a painful red eye across the Atlantic on Wednesday night all 82 (or 83, I forget) of the Madrid study abroad-ers landed at the Barajas Airport. Why was the red eye painful, you may ask. Well, there's a certain beauty to flying internationally, and this beauty comes in the form of leg-room. Yes, leg-room. Yes, fine, I can handle an hour or two on a domestic flight that doesn't give me this luxury. But, not being able to even shift my legs two inches for eight hours left me praising the heavens that there are a lot of stairs to climb (and let me stretch my legs out) at the Barajas Airport.

We spent the first few days in a beautiful hotel in the middle of Madrid orienting ourselves and getting to know each other a bit. There were times, when we'd all be sitting in the dining area speaking English, that I'd forget that we were in Madrid. But, when we went out, it obviously became very clear. I got my new phone, had some tapas and vino, strolled through the front yard of the Palacio Real, and visited the Instituto Internacional in which I'll be taking all my classes.

I roomed with Elena, one of my best friends from BU. However, come Saturday we bid our farewell to Hotel Regina and set off in cabs to our host families. Elena actually lives in a host family fives minutes walking from my house. We both have beautiful dogs-->dog-walking buddies!

I have a lovely spacious room with a great host family in the beautiful neighborhood called Chamberi. Lots of positive adjectives in that sentence. I'm a five minute walk from class and a five minute metro ride from the center of the city. My host mom is just a master cook. Very, very dangerous. And she's offering me unlimited access to the house supply of chocolate. All the more dangerous.

Well, after moving in yesterday, I unpacked and had lunch. Come 10pm it was time for dinner. A few of us from the program met up and walked to one of the main streets. We found a cute place on one of the side streets and ate surrounded by locals. Even Elena didn't understand like half the menu, but no meat was served to our vegetarian friend and everyone looked pretty happy with what they got. After, we went to a cafe around 12:30am for some coffee. Around 1 in the morning we decided to go check out a jazz club in a popular going our area on la Calle Huertas. Bar was packed, but in Madrid there's as much nightlife on the streets as in the bars. We walked for hours with hundreds upon hundreds of other people. At four in the morning the streets were packed.

When we finally decided to call it a night, we took our time figuring out the night owl bus system that runs till sunrise because the metro closes at 1:30 in the morning. I got home safe and sound, but couldn't fall asleep till about 5:30am or so and have to get up at 10am to go for a great historical tour of the famous Retiro park (like Central Park in New York) with the program.

Basically, in these first couple of days there's been a lot of walking and "oo-ing and ahhhh-ing" at the architecture. The metro system does no cease to impress me. And I can't explain how happy I am to be back in a Spanish-speaking country. Although, my host mother says that my Ecuadorian way of speaking Spanish must be "fixed".


Tomorrow, I have my final interview for my internship. I'll tell you how that goes. Wish me luck!

Bon voyage...to me!

Tomorrow, tomorrow...I'll be off to Madrid tomorrow!

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to part II of my grand junior year study abroad adventure! I hope you're all excited, because I know I am, to see what will inspire my blogging this semester.

Even though I'm (actually, not really) packed and saying my "hasta el verano, chicos!" it still doesn't feel like I'm going to Spain tomorrow! I'm definitely ready (as you remember from my freak out about culture shock) to get outta here, at least for a semester more.

Yesterday, I reunited with a bunch of the Ecuador program kids for lunch at BU. As I was walking away, I turned back and felt my heart drop. Every person on that trip, so different and engaging, contributed to a group dynamic I had never known before. Our energy together is just explosive. That's the only word I can think of. I know I've said this before, but this group was truly a blessing. Anyway, walking away I realized that there were some serious good-byes said, and I realized just how much I was going to miss them.

I'll miss my family very much, too, but Skype is a miracle.

Speaking of family, I'll give you all an introduction of my Madrid host family, though I know nothing more than their names and ages. I will be living with a host mother, a 26-year-old host sister, and 19-year-old twin brothers, and a dog (don't know his/her names yet). I will live a ten minute walk away from the International Institute, where I'll be taking classes. Check out the website: http://www.iie.es/

I'll also be living five minutes away from one of my favorite museums in Madrid, the house of Sorolla, and a ten minute walk away from one of my best friends at BU (she also has a dog). On top of all of that, I'll be living another five minutes away from one of my favorite little squares in Madrid. I'm familiar with this little square because it's located next to the apartment of my friend who spent last year in Madrid.

Going back to some of those goals I made for myself at the beginning of the year, I would like to remind myself to always keep an open mind, know my limits i.e. know when to rest, and not take a single moment for granted! I'm very excited to travel around Spain and get to know the country. I'm reading a book that the resident director recommended, that I would like to recommend to all of you. It's called The New Spaniards, by John Hooper. It's very well-written and fascinating. Check it out!



Well, I guess I'll get back to packing and being angry at Continental for only letting me check one bag free. How in the world am I supposed to pack my whole life into one bag?!

Until we meet again in Madrid, my dear readers!

Culture Shock

I never thought I'd say this but, Boston just doesn't really feel like home anymore.

I had never thought of saying such a thing because Boston had always been home for me. All of a sudden the city and I don't flow, don't mesh, just straight up don't get along like we used to. What's up with that?

I'd bet my money on culture shock.

I feel great when I'm in my house in Brookline, relaxing alone or with the family. I will always consider home as where the heart is, if I may say so...

Before I begin with the whole new wave of culture shock I felt when I landed at Logan International, I will share an unforgettable experience I had in the Miami airport:

So, I was waiting to check in at the self-service counter, which was completely pointless, by the way, because after getting the ticket from the machine, everyone still had to wait in a long line to talk to a representative about baggage AND THEN drag the baggage to a special "baggage drop-off" location a ten-minute walk from check-in. Everyone checking in there was confused. Why? There were no signs, and most people did not speak English proficiently. Every single person that tried to check in at self-service messed up. Including me. In short, it was a mess. Thank you, American Airlines.

As I was waiting in line, a Spanish-speaking man and his family were walking by. In front of me stood a pretty a family I could safely label "gringos". The father was tall and upset about something. The daughters had super straightened, super dyed hair. The Uggs, the Northface, the designer handbag. The girls were spitting images of their mother. The Spanish-speaking man approached the white man, and told him that further down the hall it was possible to quickly check in and get the baggage taken care of at the same time. I assume he was talking about the regular check-in (which, I believe him now, must have been faster than self check-in). For self check-in you had to get this special white slip of paper (a waste of paper); anyways, all of a sudden the two men are in a yelling argument about the slip of paper and the right place to check in (I think both of them were right in what they were saying). The white man then said to the Spanish-speaking man, "So, then you're being stupid right?!" The Spanish-speaking man responded sarcastically/angrily, "Yeah, I must be stupid," and walked away. I couldn't control myself, and sighed, "Oh, America..." under my breath. The white man heard and growled.

Perhaps it was that I didn't understand everything everyone said to me in Ecuador, or perhaps it was the coarseness of the English language that I began to feel instantly when I landed in the States, but that moment in the Miami airport really stuck. In Ecuador, no bus driver had ever yelled at me. The first time I took the bus in Boston, the bus driver was giving me lip.

I know that I'm just angry and confused from "culture shock," but way too many people I interact with in Boston these days just seem rude. Maybe it's also the cold weather, or the economic crisis that's bringing out the bad in everyone. I'm not the only person to come back from Ecuador to share an experience of people in Boston being rude.


I don't know what shocks me more, the fact that no one talks to me in Spanish here or the fact that I'm no longer in a developing country. I miss the Spanish language dearly, mas suave. Though I hate to admit it (although I actually don't hate to admit it), especially as an immigrant, I am so thankful for being able to live in the United States (despite the occasional rudeness). I wouldn't have been able to see Ecuador if I were still living in Ukraine. Coming back from Ecuador has some benefits, too. I am shocked that I am able to walk around Boston alone, day or night. I am shocked that everywhere I go I can get change for a twenty-dollar bill.

Basically, every country has its problems. Coming back to the U.S., I really feel that I can see the world (a little) clearer. I have another piece of the bigger picture. And the effect of that little piece on my life is more drastic than I expected.

There is so much of Ecuadorian life I wish I could inject into American life, and vice verse. For instance, I wish I could just pop the personal space bubble that closes off too many Americans from each other. I wish democracy could work, really work in Ecuador. But, you can't have it all, I guess.

To sum up, I'm filled with many mixed feelings. As a result, I find myself walking around everywhere looking confused all the time.

I'm excited to leave for and get to Spain in exactly one week. I will miss my family, but maybe I need a little more time away from Boston to really miss it.

Saved in Miami

My house in U.S. got a call from American Airlines at two in the morning the night before my flight home to let my family know that my flight from Miami to Boston was already canceled due to the snowstorm. I got a call at my house in Ecuador at 6:30am. It was my mother letting me know that the day was going to suck. Big time.

We landed in Miami and immediately I called one of my best friends from BU and a resident of Miami, Elena. She was still stuck in Boston! After a couple hours of figuring things out at the airport, our plan went from splitting a hotel between three of us girls on the same flight to Boston to the two girls managing to get on later flights to Boston that night (which I'm glad they took, by the way). When all of this was being figured out, Humberto, Elena's boyfriend called me and offered to pick me up.

Well, if he insisted...

He and my friend Joel picked me up at the airport, treated me to a delicious steak dinner and took me home to Humberto's so I could rest.


(At dinner)

At night, I saw Elena, and Elena and Humberto woke up at 4am to take me to the airport for my early morning flight. I know I've expressed my gratitude, but I'd like to take a moment right now to express it again. Thank you guys for being truly great friends! I loved seeing you.

Not to mention, I spent all day speaking Spanish with them. That eased my culture shock..

Feliz Navidad!

Feliz navidad, feliz navidad, feliz navidad, prospero año y felicidad!!

Happy Holidays! I hope that everyone's holiday season has been full of cheer!

I had a very emotional transition from life on the equator to life in below zero (in celsius) weather in good ole Boston. Good-byes were hard. I mean, look at these lovely, beautiful, incredible people I called family for four months:


(The kids- Alex (18), Dany (19), me (20), and Juli (21))


(My Ecua-rents and I)



By the time I got on the plane and that beautiful city nestled in the mountains was fading from reality the farther we rose into the clouds, I had no tears left. Some of those tears went to a screaming fight I had with a cab driver the night before...

It was my last night in Quito. A few hours after meeting up with everyone from the program in the Mariscal (the going out center of Quito), we decided to go our separate ways. Some of us thought of going to a club that my host brother and his friends had gone into an hour or so before. After catching a cab to this club, we were told that the entrance was $12. Too much. At this point, I was very sad at the thought of not being able to say good-bye to my brother. Luckily, he came out for a second and I was able to give him a hug...and bawl my eyes out in front of him and the club security guards and my friends. So after this very difficult moment, it was time to catch a cab home. There were two cabs parked outside the club. My two friends went for one and I for the other. Now, I knew for a fact that during the day it would've cost at most a dollar with the meter to get home from that spot. At night, I would pay $2. Max. How much? I asked. $4, he said.

Four U.S. dollars! Now, in Quito, after dark the taxi meter goes off and you have to bargain for your price. But, four dollars!

(this was all in Spanish, by the way):

"No, sir, $2 dollars, please..."
"No, $4, nothing less!" (He wouldn't even lower the price by fifty cents).
"I know how much it costs to get where I'm going, and it's not $4. No sea malito, $2!"
"No way, $4 and that's it," he yelled out.

At this point, I let it rip:

"You're a bad man. You're a thief. Don't think that you can cheat me because I'm a gringa. I live here. I know exactly how much it costs to get home. You're a bad, bad man."

He kept firing back. And that's when I started to cry. On top of everything he turned to his friend and started calling me a stupid drunk even though I had had only one celebratory cocktail four hours earlier. I bawled. From this cab driver's nonesense, from saying good-bye to my brother, from leaving Quito, from leaving my friends. It all hit me.

My friends and I just walked away, and two blocks later I hailed down a cab that only charged me $2.



Study abroad is strange. You fly into this new place. You know you have four months. And you know that in four months, you'll wake up one day and everything, your friends, your family, your daily routine, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in will be gone. Just like that. I got home to Boston and hated the fact that it just felt like I had never left. But, I really had a life there.

At this point, I would like to make a special shout-out to the country of Ecuador for everything it has taught me about life. I didn't even realize until I got back to the U.S. how much clearer I see certain things about this world.

Odds and Ends...and how I got half a stadium's worth of soccer fans chanting my name...

First of all, I just got one of the best hair cuts of my life. Yes, my whole life. How much did I pay? 5 USD. I walked into this hole-in-the-wall salon tonight. The couch leather (or pleather) was peeling, "2012" was playing on the 10" TV screen, and cigarettes were cooling in an ashtray on the microwave. Enrique, 39, blue-haired (was bleach-blonde a couple days ago), and gorgeous, had me take a seat. He told me to trust him, and I did, after a few minutes. Because it only took him that long to figure out my hair. He knew exactly how I wanted it without even asking. It seemed so effortless.

So, after one of the worst days ever, worst because I took one of the most ridiculous finals in the history of college finals, all of a sudden I feel sane.

In a taxi on the way to get my haircut, I was listening to a talk show (in Spanish, of course). The host was interviewing an Ecuadorian Jew about Judaism. Fascinating, yet just a little awkward. It was interesting how the host was asking the Jewish guy why it's the year 5770 and not 2009. It got awkward when the topic of Jesus came up. The host was saying something along the lines of "I'm not trying to criticize you, but you're saying that for the Jews, Jesus is not the son of God?" The Jewish guy replied, "well, no." The host went on to say, "So, because most of the listeners of this show are, well, Catholic...ummm...so Jesus was a prophet then?" "Well, a teacher of sorts, yes." "So, what, in Judaism, is the equivalent figure of Jesus?" "Well, there isn't really...."

And on it went like that. I thought it was great to hear a relatively respectful discussion about religion on public radio in Ecuador. Especially, around an important holiday time for Jews and Christians alike. Yes, it was awkward, but it was a step. I think everybody learned a little somethin'.

FINALLY, I totally forgot to mention this around the time that Liga (one of the Quito teams/won the South American cup) won one of the final games. What I'm about to share with you, I can safely say was both my most glorious and most embarrassing moment.

Here goes...

So, all of us BU kids are leaving the Liga stadium, every emotional. We see this sea of people in front of us heading toward the exit. To our left is a twelve foot high dirt wall, so we decide to scale it to avoid the crowds. Everyone struggles a little but somehow manages to get to the top. Except me. Two things happened.

1) I was brought back to a very traumatic rocking climbing incident from earlier on this semester. I was the only one that failed and it was determined in my mind that I was indeed, the weakest link.

2) A uncontrollable fit of laughter overtook me.

Here I am trying to get up this wall by grabbing at roots. I'm smeared in dirt. My hands are black, my Liga jersey is blotched with soil. And to make this experience EPIC, hundreds upon hundreds of Ecuadorians have stopped in the middle of the road at this point to cheer me on. My friends recorded a video, and I'm trying to get my hands on it. So, every time I make progress the crowd explodes with cheers, and every time I slip the crowd gasps and feels my pain.

After about five minutes, there's no way I'm getting up there. My friend Garrett is yelling to me to grab his hand...I grab it but then I lose his grip. Eventually, my other friend Matt throws a big Liga flag down to me. With the flag in one hand and Garrett's hand in the other, FINALLY, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I get up, the crowd cheers and I roll around in dirt from joy. I think one of my friend's peed her pants from laughter.

I've always wanted an epically embarrassing moment, and now I have one to share with the world!

Two Weeks Left: Separation Anxiety

Here I am. With just two weeks left in Ecuador. I know it' silly for me to say this, but I'm crying right now just thinking about it. And I know that it all is what it is, and I knew when I landed I only had four months, but as the date approaches I can't help but feel heartbreak.

I know that I'm sensitive, I know that I'm emotional. But, I also know that in two weeks I will leave a life that I created for myself here, or really this life that just happened that is now so much a part of me. My life started in Ukraine, and by the time that period of my life was over I couldn't remember all that much of it. Every since then, even though I've transitioned from middle school to high school to college, I've always been in Boston, and transitioning from one of these institutions to another with a big group of people going through the same thing. I entered the world of South America with twenty three people by my side. Even though others have taken on this program before, and many more will, no one will ever understand exactly what the twenty four of us went through. It's not to say anyone else with have a better or worse experience, but it won't be ours.

So, basically, I have never had to leave a whole way of life in this way before. My family that I have seen everyday since I landed, my friends and everyone I've met, my school, my block, my view of the city, my bus route, my places to eat, my casa, my room, my keys, my streets. I don't even know half of Quito, but I feel like it will always be my city, like Lvov or Boston. It will always be a part of me.

I'll miss my family here more than they know. They've been nothing but amazing to me. They've listened to me, and I've listened to them. I just want them to know how much I love them.

Anyway, I know that the time has come and I have a whole new adventure waiting for me in Spain, but right now...let's just say I'm having serious separation anxiety.

LIGA CAMPEON!

The Quito soccer team, Liga Deportiva Universitaria de Quito, is officially the best team in all of South America. Just less than two hours ago, la Liga met the Brazilian team, Fluminense on the battlefield to win the Copa Sudamericana. Liga Campeon! Not to mention, this is especially perfect timing because of the ongoing fiestas de Quito, which celebrate the city's founding with bullfights, chiva (a bus with no windows or doors) rides around the old city, drinking, and street parties.

Pookie and Froggie Reunited

So, my sister, Asya, just left today. She was visiting me for a week here in good ole Ecuador. I was very proud of my parents for letting her fly by herself. We had a fun, packed week. The highlight was either being at the game at which Liga (the Quito team) won or the epic five hour trip to the cloud forest in Mindo. Extreme. Anyway, miss her already, but I'll see her in a few weeks. Oh boy, just a few weeks left. On the one hand, I find myself tearing up once or twice a day at the idea of it. On the other hand, I have three ten page papers to happen by the end of next week. I haven't started any of them.

Lights Out

Take a city like Boston. For starters, multiply the danger of walking in a city like that by a hundred. Take away the traffic and crosswalk lights. Turn off all the lights in every building while you're at it.

That's been my evening experience in Quito a couple nights per week since the entire country realized it was in an energy crisis. The country gets the majority of its energy from hydroelectric plants. It hasn't rained. Someone needs to do the rain dance, ASAP. Peru and Colombia are potentially willing to sell energy, but political tensions seems to be preventing a definite deal. Either way, these "apagones" that occur daily in different sections of Quito for five hours at a time, as well as in all other regions of the country, could last until March.

What's worse, the economy isn't looking all that good either. Unemployment/desperation for resources + dark, abandoned streets = bad news for your average pedestrian carrying anything of value. Also, businesses are being forced to slow down or close early, clubs can now only be open till 1am on Tuesdays and Wednesdays (--> loss of profit from alcohol sales). It's bad. It's not as bad right now as it is in Venezuela, where neither light nor water are to be found.

Ojala que llueva, ojala que llueva. A country shouldn't face problems such as these, especially, potentially in the long term. We need solutions, and we need them fast.

LOVE

Six Weeks Left

I promise to write about the Galapagos very soon, but since I only have a few minutes at the computer, I just wanted to express my sadness at the thought of leaving this country.

After a little over two months in Ecuador, I feel like this has been and always will be my life. I feel alive here. I know the big streets of Quito like I know the big streets of Boston. Of course, I take the Ecovia bus line, of course, my classes are in Spanish, of course, I barter for everything I buy.

When I was sitting on the shore in the Galapagos this weekend, I started to tear up at the thought of leaving this place, leaving my life here. Yes, it's true I get very emotionally attached to people and places-my mom can tell you because she always sees me crying about giving them up, but this is big. Four months of my life.

Yes, I would like to see my family and friends because I miss them dearly, but other than that, there's nowhere else in the world I would rather be in this moment.

Perhaps this is all coming out because I'm still a little loopy from being on a boat all weekend, or perhaps it's all that sun, but I'm already really upset.

Also, I'm actually a little overwhelmed to be back in Quito. I will say that coming back from the serene, pristine Galapagos to good ole dirty Quito was quite the drastic transition. I could smell the fumes before I even got off the airplane. And I also almost got into a screaming fight with the cab driver at the airport because he wanted to charge me $4 to go home...that was before I realized the fare included the airport exit fee. Anyways, I'm going home right now to drown myself in homework. Wish me luck.


Oh, but as a special treat, here's a picture for the Galapagos to give you guys a sneak preview of my next post: