I have arrived in Quito and am breathing in the urban but surprisingly fresh Andean air. Aside from the dizziness and headaches resulting from the altitude adjustment and the clear language barrier due to the expected disparities between my level of Spanish and my host family’s, I am content. (Pause for deep breath).
As of right now, the extent that I have seen of Ecuador was from the dark, street- lit drive from the airport a half hour away to the Savoy Inn last night (which was beautiful), and the short taxi trip this morning to Cimas, the education center where we will be taking classes. I can’t speak much to the beauty and vibrancy of the city having seen only a small portion, but I have a feeling I am in for a treat this upcoming week.
The view so far, though, is incredible. Looking out over Quito’s skyline from the balcony of our hotel when we arrived was breathtaking—lights from streets and houses were scattered about illuminating the landscape, and our elevation was the perfect vantage point to look over the entire city to its contoured limits. When we woke up to the morning light and looked out once again, we noticed a massive geological feature that we hadn’t been able to make out in the dark: Mount Pichincha. Quito’s mountains create a serene edge to the city, making me feel as if I’m inside a god-sized bowl. Although on a much smaller scale, it reminds me of my high school town of Spring Valley, Wisconsin. “The Valley” is a small, 1,300 person village that is home to Wisconsin’s largest man-made turf dam, and if standing at the bottom of that construction made me feel small, the Andes make me feel microbial. The little old houses, shaky streets, and clear sense of community also remind me of little Spring Valley, and so far everyone has been incredibly welcoming yet obviously intrigued by these foreign strangers (particularly my blonde classmate). The Quito that I have experienced so far is quaint but bustling, and I can’t wait until Wednesday to tour the Historic District and visit museums.
I also met my host family today and am writing this from the comfort of my new Ecuadorian bedroom (every word sounds better with “Ecuadorian” in front of it. Example: Ecuadorian food. Ecuadorian dog. Ecuadorian ecosystem. It’s a great adjective.), the walls are bright golden-yellow and lined with eccentric decorations from around the world. Any of my roommates at school could attest that I am probably feeling right at home. I haven’t gotten to know my new host parents or 19-year-old host brother very well yet, but I know that will come with time and the improvement of my Spanish skills.
Already I have noticed a few interesting similarities and differences between my American family and my Ecuadorian family, but the way that my host mother sighs understandingly after I stumble over my responses to her questions, or the way my host father congenially corrects my colloquial grammar mistakes reminds me that despite language differences, mannerisms and conversation around the world really are the same regardless of where you are. People speak the same in different languages.
Our academic director, Emilia, lectured us today in Spanish about contrasts between American and Ecuadorian culture. I’m sure I missed a few of her points due to the idiomatic gap, but the most important thing that I learned was this:
Americans think primarily in terms of “Time is Money,” Whereas the philosophy of Ecuadorians and most Latin Americans, is “Time is Life.”
It is often said that we as Americans live to work, devoting hours upon hours to career advancement and competition. In most other parts of the world, people simply work to live and enjoy the rest of their time doing what they love with the people they love. The past 48 hours have been a blur since the moment I got on the plane to Miami, and on the airport grind, time was money, as we worked to make our flights to arrive at our destination without difficulty. Since reaching Quito, I have felt no sense of urgency to hurry, to worry, or to stress myself out with mundane things. I have been relaxed, pleasantly conscious of my new surroundings, and welcoming of new experiences and opportunities. My time here is not about deadlines or pressure to please, it is about learning and taking time to enjoy as much as I can with my new friends in these short seven weeks. Time is life, and I intend to live it fully.