Final Destination: Quito

After my night in Chicago, I successfully arrived in Quito! I was a little worried about my bags arriving with me because my flight to Miami was on American Airlines and my flight to Quito was on LAN, but no había problema, there were no problems. The one other annoyance was that I had to walk all the way from Terminal D to Terminal J in the Miami Airport. I seriously think I walked a mile. Plus, I had to leave the terminal and go through security again. Luckily, I had a two-hour layover and the lines for LAN were way shorter than for American.

Shorter lines was just the first of many reasons to fly LAN. For one thing, they board by rows starting in the back. Doesn't that just makes sense? No waiting for the front row people to get their junk in the overhead compartment and just sit down already. Secondly, the aircraft was huge but not full, so I got a window seat without anyone in the aisle seat to climb over when I had to use the lavatory, plus I had more elbow room and space to spread my stuff out. Then, they offered free wine with dinner! Now that is classy. Most importantly, the flight staff was both exceptionally friendly and exceptionally good-looking. Nothing makes a flight more enjoyable than a young, handsome, smiley male flight attendant.

After arriving in Quito and being reunited with my BFF Mandy, we dropped my stuff off at her apartment, I called home and cleaned up, and we met the North Park students studying in Ecuador this semester and the other short-term missionaries for dinner. Since then, Mandy and I have mostly been running errands to prepare for the team coming with Covenant Merge Ministries and meeting people Mandy works with.

Yesterday, we went to the zoo with a couple of former missionaries who were visiting and some of their Ecuadorian friends with little kids. The relaxed excursion changed quickly for me as I watched a stranger pass out in her boyfriend's arms. Thanks to my training as a "professional rescuer," I felt the responsibility to stick around, assess what happened, and wait for her to regain consciousness. I probably didn't actually help at all except to ease the look of helplessness and fear on her boyfriend's face. She came to pretty quickly, was aware of her surroundings, and said she thought she was dehydrated. Lucky for her, I had a full water bottle.

Today, we went just outside of Quito to Carapungo, where Mandy first lived and worked. We met her former host family, who she lived with for about six months. Her host father took us out for ice cream. Then, we went to the church she worked in and visited the Compassion project, which gives sponsored kids a meal, homework help, and Bible lessons a few days a week.

On Saturday, a team comes from Canada work with Covenant Merge Ministries. I'm still not exactly sure what my role with them will be... translating mostly, I think. We'll be going to Sumaco, which is a few hours from Quito. I won't have internet access, so I'll be incomunicada for about a week starting Sunday. So, until next time, I will be doing my best to remember not to flush the toilet paper, to diligently apply sunscreen, to drink lots of water, and to ignore the many hisses, whistles, and "mi amor" calls on the streets.

Detour

It seems there is some force that always tries to keep me out of Ecuador. In 2007, the program I wanted to do in Ecuador shut down, so I couldn't go. In 2010, a volcano erupted the night I was to fly to Quito, so I got stuck in Miami for a day. Now, in 2012, my first flight had a two-hour delay due to "unexpected maintenance issues," so I couldn't make my second flight in Chicago, so I couldn't make my final connection to Quito. There were no more flights today, so I'm flying out of Miami tomorrow afternoon. I decided to stay in Chicago with my former roommate Colleen instead of spending the night alone in Miami. An unexpected visit makes the detour much more enjoyable. Tomorrow, I will get there. Tonight, I will enjoy a few hours with a good friend.

And as Miley Cyrus sings:
"There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side
It's the climb"

You better believe I'm singing along ;)

New year... new location!

Well, a week from tomorrow, I'm leaving for South America, and I'm not coming back to the US until August.

Yep.

This plan has been brewing for a long time. Basically, I've wanted to go back to Peru since I left in August 2010. Plus, my best friend moved to Ecuador last January, and I definitely can't last more than a year without seeing her, so I HAVE to go to Ecuador, too. Really, I am doing exactly what I planned to do after graduation:

1. live at home -- did it
2. make some money -- okay, that part hasn't really worked out as well as I planned... I made more money working at Bible camp for two months than I made in four months as a substitute teacher, but I still made some money.
3. apply to grad school -- done
4. Spend January through July in Ecuador and Peru -- doing it!

I'm living the dream, baby!

However, a week before departure, the dream is proving to be slightly scarier than I expected. Although I've been scheming things for a long time, I made the decision to go rather quickly. After Mandy searched for jobs in Quito for me all fall and suggested other opportunities for me (that I loosely agreed to and usually backed out of), she told me, "Abby, I talked with Merge Ministries and they say you can help me lead the team and be a translator in January. Do you still want to do that?"
To which I replied, "Yeah! I do really want to do it. Just let me talk it over with my parents."
"Okay, well just tell me as soon as you can because I need to tell Merge whether they need to find someone else or not."
"Well... I want to do it. Tell them I'll do it. I'm doing it!"

The day after that I talked to my friend Lisa Merritt (director of Inca Link), and the dates of every thing I wanted to do all lined up, which I took as a sign of God's approval. So, five weeks ago, I decided to do it all. I talked to the mission committee at my home church for support, I bought my ticket, I set the plan in motion.

I am very excited to see my BFF Mandy, visit Machu Picchu with my old roomie Valerie, spend time with my friends in Peru, and work with Inca Link again, but six months is a long time! Moreover, I am leaving with no idea what I'll return to. Hopefully grad school, but where??? I applied to seven schools in six states. I could end up at any one of them, or none of them.

Being at home would not erase the question mark looming ahead, so onward I go, having faith that God will guide me, work through me, and clear a path before me.

The Joys of Teaching

As a substitute teacher, I hear it all. I sub for kindergarten through high school, so the topic of conversations I have with students vary from pet stories to break ups. No matter what age, I'm bound to hear something interesting.

I hear about bathroom trouble:

After returning from the bathroom, "I forgot to poop!" (Kindergartner)

"My mom had a baby five days ago. She pooped it out." (1st grader)

7th grade boy muttering to himself, "I have to fart, but I don't know which way to lean..."

I get a lot of questions about my age:

"How old are you?"

"Are you sixteen?"

"Do you have kids?"

2nd grader, "Are you in high school?"
Me, "No, I already went to college."
2nd grader, "Yeah right!"

Even high schoolers themselves, "Are you a new teacher or something? You look kinda young."

Sometimes, I practically laugh in their faces:

"Miss Fish, Zach is coloring on his face in red marker!" Yes he is, and his arms are covered too.

"Miss Fish, I told Ann Marie to take a chill pill, and she said I was calling her a drug addict." (4th grader)

But, I know they adore me ;)

2nd grade girl, "Oh, we get my favorite teacher today!"

5th grade boy, "Hey Sub."

10th grade girl says to me, "Hi Miss Fish," and to her friend, "I like that teacher."

Best of all, some senior boys asked another substitute teacher, "Who is that? Is she a new girl? I'm gonna ask her out!" I'm pretty sure high school boys did not talk about me like that when I was actually a high schooler (if they did, I was unaware) Better late than never? Not so sure that applies here...

Invariably, some kids are adorable, some kids are little devils, and some kids are just plain weird.

Urge for Going

No one describes days like today better than Joni Mitchell:

"I awoke today to find the frost perched on the town.
It hovered in a frozen sky and gobbled summer down.
When the sun turns traitor cold and all the trees stand shivering in a naked row,
I get the urge for going, but I never seem to go.

"I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown,
summertime is falling down, and winter is closing in.

"I had me man in summertime; he had summer-colored skin,
and not another girl in town, my darling's heart could win.
But when the leaves fell trembling down,
and bully winds did rub their faces in the snow,
he got the urge for going, and I had to let him go.

"He got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown,
summertime was falling down, and winter was closing in.

"The warriors of winter they give a cold, triumphant shout.
All the stays is dying; all the lives is getting out.
See the geese in chevron flight, flapping and a-racing on before the snow.
They got the urge for going, and they had the wings so they could go.

"They get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown,
summertime is falling down, and winter is closing in.

"I'll ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets up to my chin.
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bind my wandering in.
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so,
but she's got the urge for going, and I guess she'll have to go.

"She gets the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown,
and all her empire's falling down, and winter is closing in."

Meeting Meat

Since I've been living with my parents, I've begun to cook a lot. Most days, I don't work and they do, so I cook dinner for them. I enjoy cooking and experimenting with new recipes. Cooking for other people has been a good lesson for me because when I cook for just myself, I often end up throwing things together and calling it a meal. Cooking for others has also pushed me into new areas. Not every one wants to eat lentils and goat cheese for dinner -- though add some red onions and cilantro and people might reconsider. Occasionally, I have to let my own personal preferences go in consideration of other diners. Thus, I have been shoved into cooking a food group I've been leaving out: meat.

I keep a mostly vegetarian diet, a "flexitarian" diet. There's a book about it. Look it up. When I cook for myself, I never buy or cook meat of any kind, even fish. If other people cook meat for me, I feel bad refusing their hospitality, so I eat it. When I cook for other people, I often cook vegetarian meals. Many people don't miss the meat for one meal. After tricking my parents into eating vegetarian for over a week straight, my mom admitted she hadn't missed the meat at all. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that my dad missed his meat. He never said so, but I suspect it.

On top of that, there was a feature in Real Simple Magazine in October that was a month of easy dinners. I wanted to try it. I followed the first week: salmon, pork chops, roast beef paninis, and chicken included. I ate the salmon, and cooked other options for myself for the rest. Sometimes the meat tempts me, mostly out of curiosity -- did I make something good? However, the process of cooking meat... not so tantalizing. In fact, it makes me gag. Although I've (mostly) overcome the bloody sight of meat, the drippage and the stink of meat still disgusts me. I'm paranoid of getting raw meat juice on the counter or in the sink and spreading fleshy bacteria all over. While the completely cooked meat smells okay, there's a certain point mid-cooking that smells rank to me. Bluck.

Even though I don't really like cooking meat, I think it's good life skill. I might need to know how to cook meat someday. For instance, if I were stranded in the wilderness and got lucky enough to hunt an animal, I would need to cook it for survival. Plus, what if I fall in love with a meat eater someday? I hear compromise is important for marriage and making "meat eater" a deal breaker severely limits the selection of eligible bachelors (which already seems rather small).

There are plenty of ethical and health reasons to go vegetarian, all of which influenced my decision to reduce my consumption of meat in the first place. But, sometimes serving meat is the best way to serve people, so I'll make it... occasionally... when other people pay... if I can tell they really, really want it.

Fall in Love with Fall

There is no better time in the U.P. than early fall. The weather is mild, not too hot, not too cold (all you need is a light jacket!). The colors of the changing leaves are fantastically bright -- red, orange, yellow, set against the dark green conifers. And the dusty yet fresh smell of crunchy leaves permeates the area. I have fully embraced fall.

Although I have yet to rake leaves and jump in them this season, I have entertained myself with a few high quality fall activities. I went for a bike ride to admire the colors on a sunny day. I walked through the woods on a warm day. My mom and I went to Cranberry Fest in Eagle River, WI, where we bought honey, mittens, and hair feathers (for me, as a consolation for having to remove my tragus piercing). But my best activity yet: my very own Backyard Apple Festival.

An apple tree grows on our property a little ways down the dirt road (yes, people, I live on a DIRT road). This year, the tree is laden with apples. The branches bend down toward the ground groaning with the weight of the ripe, red fruit. What is the only way to relieve the Tree of its autumnal burden? Pick the apples, of course.

I feel a moral obligation to pick and consume as many apples as possible from the Apple Tree. At first I just reached up and pulled a branch down to pluck a few from the underside of the branches. Then, my dad and I stood on the truck bed of the Gator to reach higher. A few days later, I carried the ladder out, and my mom steadied it as I reached up even higher. The problem is that all the very biggest and bestest apples grow at the tippy top of the tree -- we can't even reach them on the ladder.

With the dozens and dozens of apples we have harvested, I've mostly made apple sauce. It doesn't sound that exciting, but homemade apple sauce is sensational. Our wild apples are very tart, so cooking them with a little water, sugar, and a cinnamon stick makes a wonderfully flavorful apple sauce. It's the culmination of tangy, sweet, and warm spice -- the ultimate fall flavor. After eating this apple sauce, I wonder why anyone ever buys mass produced applesauce -- pale and tasteless -- instead of making it at home. I leave the skins on for more nutrients and flavor (and it's easier), so it's nice and chunky, or if I puree it, it turns a lovely pink color from the red pigment in the skins. Mmm... I want some right now.

I've been making big batches of apple sauce and eating it warm as dessert or using it to substitute oil in zucchini bread or occasionally giving it away. We've used the apples to make tart apple crisp, which is also yummy. Fall is delicious in every way -- sight, taste, smell, sound, feel. Of all the seasons to be home, I'm glad to be here now when it feels homiest.