The
day of August 19th 2005 was unlike any I've experienced in my life.
Could the uniqueness be attributed to the fact that I
hadn't gotten any sleep previous night, or the fact that the entire
day revolved around many soggy-eyed, lustful goodbyes or perhaps the
fact that the day was filled with swarming friends and family like
that of a biblical plague? Perhaps it was the fact that
the 19th would be a day marking the beginning of a new metaphorical
chapter in my life. As previously mentioned, I had gotten no
sleep the night before my year long expedition into the culture of the
not-so-foreign Latin Americans, staying up with friends as if to make
a last stand, the final all or nothing night that I would be able to
share before everyone was to go their separate ways to pursue what it
is that means most to them, for many that meant college. Time
seemed to melt away as last minute packing took place and since there
was actually extra room in my luggage, I figured why not pack on a few
more of the inessential. Friends continued to come by the house
in an attempt to say one final goodbye before I was off for the next
ten months. As the clock struck three in the afternoon, mayhem
was unleashed and yells were heard throughout the halls signifying
time to get a move on and as suitcase by suitcase was taken down the
stairs out to the porch and the coincidental rain/lightning storm
ensued I knew something of incomprehensible proportions was about to
take place. A final good bye was said to my room as if it was to
personify the life-long friend that had always been there for me, a
medium of refuge that was going to have to be left behind.
Next, a final goodbye was granted to the family dog, Oreo, whose
persistent enthusiasm when the jingle of car keys sound in the hands
of my father had never ceased to make me grin. A final
picture was taken on the porch, the family, the friends, girlfriend,
dog and the pouring rain in the background insisted on making its
appearance. So it was that Mom, Dad, Sister, Ilaria (exchange
student from
Italy
living with us), girlfriend and I loaded up in the family SUV. for the
drive to
Miami
International
Airport
. Though I've made this drive hundreds of times, this one felt
different, my forehead glued to the window trying to take in every
square foot of the trip? I made it to about
Bird Road
when it started throbbing so I figured it was best to just keep the
eyes straight ahead.
Before
I knew it we pulled up to the airport roadside baggage check in, hours
in advance of the plane departure as though to assume security would
take half an hour to personally check every item in every suitcase of
every vagabond in the confined walls of the third largest
international airport in the
United States
. Once the bags were checked and sent for my American Airlines
flight 1945, we did what any American group of travelers trying to
kill time would do; we went to the airport Starbuks. Then after
a few more pictures were taken, and we embraced each other for the
final goodbye, I made way to the portal of metal detectors, x-ray
scanning machines and a sea of stern eyed security guards. With
no problems, I waltzed through to Gate A6 to meet my cheery Bokoff-Kaplan
rep., signed in and went to find a seat next to any of the pin-laden
exchange colleagues of mine. Small talk and senseless, 'hello,
how are you, where you froms' distracted me from the fact that I still
had a hoard of people to call and wish a last farewell. My cell
phone battery was dieing quickly so I wasted no time in excusing
myself from the seat and furiously punching in numbers. Before I
knew it I was halfway through a conversation and the clock struck
645pm. Instantaneously the clear voice of a woman came over the
intercom and announced that our plane was about to board. As my
heart stopped and the voice on the other line of my almost dead cell
phone was lost in the sea of other clamoring voices in the hectic
airport, I collected my things and waited to embark on the 110 ton
hunk of Boeing 757. Then remembering I had a phone stuck to my
ear I tried to finish the conversation quickly so that I could check
to make sure I had everything. I might add that taking the extra
time to double check that everything is packed proves worthwhile as I
had no problems quickly finding my papers, boarding pass and my
essential sour gummy-worms, an unquestionable commodity for any trip.
From
that moment on, the movie of my life seemed to be in fast forward,
voices were no longer heard, only high-pitched chirps and blurred
movements of greeting pilots, airline stewardess and fellow
passengers. Takeoff from the airport resembled the blast of a bullet
out of a high-powered rifle? clouds streamed past my window seat as if
the white after burn from an enormous jet engine in the sky.
All went dark. Then after a couple sodas and a bad attempt of an
airline meal, time resumed its normal speed and for the first time I
saw the lights of
Quito
. The plane touched down, pulled into the dock and like
always, everyone was in a rush to go nowhere so I just sat and let
everyone gather there things and race off the plane like staying on
was a carcinogen. After getting off the plane I scurried
to baggage claim in hoping that the quicker I moved the quicker I
could get my things and thus the quick I could get to my new home and
get some shuteye for the first time in 48 hours. Before I made
it to baggage claim, there was the stop at customs. That was a
joke because as I walked up to the customs agent and she asked me
something in Spanish which I wasn't able to recognize, I just smiled,
she stamped my passport and let me walk through. What followed?
more waiting. Then, as if a beacon of light I spotted my two
large black suitcases amongst the dozens of others similar to it due
to the fact I had a large blue tag on each. I collected my
things and I was off. Proceeding through the astonishingly new
airport and into the main terminal, I was overtaken by a sea of
onlookers, scanning the crowd in order to find their awaited arrivals.
Likewise I was searching for any sign of something recognizable, let?s
just use my name for an example. So it was that halfway past the
crowd, I spotted on a loose-leaf sheet of paper the only familiar
thing in the airport, '
Theodore Arch
'. I smiled at the trio gathered around the sheet of
paper, my host mom, Ana-Maria, host dad, Rene and rotary counselor,
Leonardo. We exchanged our warm greetings, then insisting on
helping me with my things we made our way to the parking-lot directly
outside of the terminal doors, which is great compared to M.I.A. where
in order to get to the parking garage requires a platoon of Himalayan
Sherpas.
Waiting
was my host sister, Daniela, eager to drive home and get out of the
chilling mountain cold. She and I instantly engaged in a
fragmented Spanish conversation about all kinds of exchange
conundrums; she, having gone to Kentucky for a year as an exchange
student mistakenly assumed that everyone from United States was the
same, and asked what kind of pickup truck I drove, and who my favorite
Country artist was, along with other fascinating things about her
experience in the Bluegrass State. The drive was a little under
an hour; we live in the valley municipality called Cumbaya. We
drove through the little pueblos which were littered with road side
cookeries, street venders, local bars, and other unique cultural
elements, all open in late hours of the night, which was interesting
to watch through the eyes of an ?gringo?. Soon however, these
niches no longer caught my attention as they are quite commonplace.
We pulled up to the gated in community where I now live, ?Portal De
Cumbaya No.
1?
, and we were greeted reassuringly by the stationed security guard
sporting a bulletproof vest with a handgun, Velcroed to the chest
section. When we pulled into the garage of my new home, I was
overwhelmed by the smell of ?new?, like that of climbing into the new
car your friends family just purchased. Apparently the house was
just remodeled and new sections added onto the house, such as the new
garage. I was given the tour of the house, everything amazingly
furnished and awe-inspiring. With my parents tired from work,
and sister tired from studying at the university, it was needless to
say sleep was on everyone?s mind.
From
the moment I laid my head down to sleep to this day, the hours go by
in seconds and time just seems impossible to grasp. I?ve been
here for a little more than a month and it seems like I just arrived
yesterday, I guess the old adage is true, ?time flies when your having
fun?. Since my first day here I?ve been busy with family and new
friends doing everything from riding bikes down mountain trails,
enjoying the Arrayanes country club we?re members of, going to various
discotecas with my host sister and her friends, enjoying the amazing
night life? which unexpectedly is comparable to that of
Miami
. Adventures have also taken me to the hot water pools in the
mountains which flow with hot spring water, gone camping out at a
family friends lodge in the mountains of Nono to go horseback riding,
been up cable cars to the highest peek in the mountain range where I
live, attended newly made friends birthday parties, picked up games of
soccer and so on. I?ve enjoyed the rich culture of food here,
eaten everything from cow skin soup to various types of ceviches,
sushi, fondue, and much, much more. School is an adventure in of
itself, though a smidge unorganized at the moment this is my second
week of school, it started a week late due to the fact that everyone?s
schedules where unaccounted for and problems of the sort ensue to
today. I for one only have three out of the 8 classes at the
moment, but progress is being made each day. Being 18 I?m
one of the oldest at the school, and standing almost at six foot puts
me in as just about the tallest student here so its fair to say I?ve
acquired plenty of minions to carry out my biddings. My host
rotary club has been very kind and supportive; we have monthly
meetings at this extravagant hotel in the city where they hold their
discourses on complicated matters which in the
still-learning-Spanish-mind of mine are still sketchy. I believe
it?s fair to say that I expect nothing less than the best year of my
life here in this now not-so-foreign land I now call home. I
believe that brings us all up to speed on what?s being going on south
of the border. I?ve been taking plenty of pictures so they will
be on the way shortly. Hope all is well post Katrina & Rita.
Stay safe and enjoy, I?ll be keeping in touch.
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