doesn't know how to spell.
I was watching the news this morning in my sleepy stupor, and their commercial came on. Their cheesy jingle started to play, and the girl sang in the stupid jingle tune, "1-800-M-A-T-T-R-E-S." Um, hello. Why would I buy a mattress from a place that is not compliant with the english language. It it spelt correctly on the screen, but not in the jingle, and it bothered me so much that here I am writing about it. I'd rather buy my mattress from Sleepy's because in their commercials they jump on beds, and I enjoy a company that condones jumping on beds.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Random thoughts
Well... when am I not random?
I woke up early this morning which is shocking for a girl who typically attacks the snooze button atleast 18 times a morning.
I became immediately conscience, well Charis conscience anyhow. I got my coffee, sat in bed at 6 a.m. popped in a movie, glanced at my curtains and thought to myself, those would make a nice outfit...
Who the hell do I think I am Julie Fuckin Andrews? Then I had that stupid song from The Sound of music in my head ..."these are a few of my favorite things," ... Oh boy. This day is bound to be a long one.
That is all.
I woke up early this morning which is shocking for a girl who typically attacks the snooze button atleast 18 times a morning.
I became immediately conscience, well Charis conscience anyhow. I got my coffee, sat in bed at 6 a.m. popped in a movie, glanced at my curtains and thought to myself, those would make a nice outfit...
Who the hell do I think I am Julie Fuckin Andrews? Then I had that stupid song from The Sound of music in my head ..."these are a few of my favorite things," ... Oh boy. This day is bound to be a long one.
That is all.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Woozifrost
Summer never came that year for the people of Woozifrost. No closets were changed over from turtlenecks to tank tops, no 4th of July fireworks were ooed and awed at, no vacations were planned, no sun beat down upon their heads. It poured from June until September. The rain was cold, and the people were physically and mentally damp. Wet, tired and dejected they lost hope of ever seeing the sun that particular summer, or maybe, ever again.
Toward the end of September, Martin Shubert, a city bus driver claimed he saw the sun, but he was mistaken. He had just been looking at the sky for too long and started seeing blobs of yellow. He was later admitted to the Woozifrost center of psychiatry for better evaluation.
Sarah Sparks, the city librarian had a premonition that the flooding indicated the genesis to the end of the world. Sarah used the word genesis, which normally connoted new, to describe the end of something, because history had shown her that the end of something always seemed to result in the beginning of something else.
To be continued…
Toward the end of September, Martin Shubert, a city bus driver claimed he saw the sun, but he was mistaken. He had just been looking at the sky for too long and started seeing blobs of yellow. He was later admitted to the Woozifrost center of psychiatry for better evaluation.
Sarah Sparks, the city librarian had a premonition that the flooding indicated the genesis to the end of the world. Sarah used the word genesis, which normally connoted new, to describe the end of something, because history had shown her that the end of something always seemed to result in the beginning of something else.
To be continued…
Friday, August 28, 2009
Sometimes
things are good.
Sometimes the rocky mountains of problems cave in to dunes and the beach decorates the bad. The great things in life you take for granted glow and you appreciate what you have. You sweep up your cluttered mind for a little clarity and get out of your own way. You come to the realization that the little things are just that -little things. You understand that you are so miniscule in the big picture, and that things are going to happen (or not happen). Be kind, eat breakfast and just breathe.
Sometimes the rocky mountains of problems cave in to dunes and the beach decorates the bad. The great things in life you take for granted glow and you appreciate what you have. You sweep up your cluttered mind for a little clarity and get out of your own way. You come to the realization that the little things are just that -little things. You understand that you are so miniscule in the big picture, and that things are going to happen (or not happen). Be kind, eat breakfast and just breathe.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Bank of America
sucks.
If you currently bank there.."Take the money and run," in the words of Steve Miller Band. They'll suck you dry and then ask for your first born, and a your last piece of gum.
Do I sound disgruntled? Good. Cause I am.
Boys and girls, let me tell you a tale of a young girl, let's say of 24 years of age living in Worcester named...Maris.
Maris had a couple of occassions to attend one weekend. A graduation party and a birthday. She made sure she had the necessary funds in her bank account to cover any "extravagant behavior." She had fun. A lot of fun. She lived within her means. Or so she thought...
After her fun weekend, Maris checked her bank account. To her surprise she had negative $80 dollars. Yup, it was red -she was in the red. Shockingly she looked to see what had happened. What had HAPPENED was her internet service decided to take out $130 from her bank account. Wow, in 2009, how does internet cost $130 she thought... So, upon having 5 overdrafts, she decided to do some investigating, and begging, if needed.
Verizon internet was charging her accurately. Okay, Maris understood that. But she was still upset that she had no warning. So Maris, having a very good banking history marched herself right down the street to Bank of America to see if she could explain what happened to a nice customer service Rep to bypass the charges...
She met, let's call her, Ivanna Be-a-bitch-alot. Maris sat down with Ivanna and explained her situation. Ivanna didn't seem very compassionate, but said she would ask "the computer" what it thought. "the computer," did not want to appease Maris' request. So Maris went on to ask Ivanna, "well it's a computer? Can I speak with a manager?" Ivanna explained that the computer was the end all, be all. Really?
Maris started her rant. "Well, I have been banking here for atleast 10 years -with no problems. People say bad things about Bank of America, while I defend you. If I am really having a relationship with a computer, and you will not even reason with me and take 3 of the 5 $35 overdraft fee charges away I am going to come in to tomorrow (pay day), empty my account, and bank somewhere else." Ivanna didn't give a damn, even though Maris was bluffing.
Maris thought, if only I were a 40 year-old man in a suit. That would have made the difference. But, unfortunately, she was a 24 year-old khaki wearing girl with dimples, lacking any leverage. This may have been a bad story, but "take 'your' money and run" people. Take the money and run.
The End.
If you currently bank there.."Take the money and run," in the words of Steve Miller Band. They'll suck you dry and then ask for your first born, and a your last piece of gum.
Do I sound disgruntled? Good. Cause I am.
Boys and girls, let me tell you a tale of a young girl, let's say of 24 years of age living in Worcester named...Maris.
Maris had a couple of occassions to attend one weekend. A graduation party and a birthday. She made sure she had the necessary funds in her bank account to cover any "extravagant behavior." She had fun. A lot of fun. She lived within her means. Or so she thought...
After her fun weekend, Maris checked her bank account. To her surprise she had negative $80 dollars. Yup, it was red -she was in the red. Shockingly she looked to see what had happened. What had HAPPENED was her internet service decided to take out $130 from her bank account. Wow, in 2009, how does internet cost $130 she thought... So, upon having 5 overdrafts, she decided to do some investigating, and begging, if needed.
Verizon internet was charging her accurately. Okay, Maris understood that. But she was still upset that she had no warning. So Maris, having a very good banking history marched herself right down the street to Bank of America to see if she could explain what happened to a nice customer service Rep to bypass the charges...
She met, let's call her, Ivanna Be-a-bitch-alot. Maris sat down with Ivanna and explained her situation. Ivanna didn't seem very compassionate, but said she would ask "the computer" what it thought. "the computer," did not want to appease Maris' request. So Maris went on to ask Ivanna, "well it's a computer? Can I speak with a manager?" Ivanna explained that the computer was the end all, be all. Really?
Maris started her rant. "Well, I have been banking here for atleast 10 years -with no problems. People say bad things about Bank of America, while I defend you. If I am really having a relationship with a computer, and you will not even reason with me and take 3 of the 5 $35 overdraft fee charges away I am going to come in to tomorrow (pay day), empty my account, and bank somewhere else." Ivanna didn't give a damn, even though Maris was bluffing.
Maris thought, if only I were a 40 year-old man in a suit. That would have made the difference. But, unfortunately, she was a 24 year-old khaki wearing girl with dimples, lacking any leverage. This may have been a bad story, but "take 'your' money and run" people. Take the money and run.
The End.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Ashley
is my sister.
I miss her. She will be back in America soon with my nephew, Aiden, and after living on separate continents for a year, I have become more appreciative of having a sister, and a good friend. We call that, a "twofor."
We are only 16 months apart, and have had our ups and downs through life. Fighting to the point of almost killing eachother one moment and then being best friends the next. We are extremely similar, yet polar oppossites. There's a contradiction for ya.
She once threw a basketball at my head out of anger. On that same note, she also through a phone, a book, and many other objects at my head -but the basketball is the most memorable. It was infront of our whole Junior varsity basketball team, and well, it hurt. Maybe while I had my secret littering addiction, she had a secret "throwing objects at people" addiction. I think she has grown out of it, but I still wear a helmet when we hang out. Just incase.
Another memory that just popped in my head... We were young and she told me to put my middle finger up. Me, not thinking this was an odd request, did it. I did not realize it held any symbolism at the time. Wanna know what she did the second I did what she requested? She told on me. Yup, that's right, she ratted me out. "Mom! Charis stuck her middle finger up!," My mom was appalled, and I started crying. In between sobs, I said that I didn't know what it meant, and Ashley whispered, "It means you hate Jesus." I cried louder, "BUT I DON'T HATE JESUS." Ashley probably does not remember this memory, but apparently it took a toll on me.
We were pretty strange children, and come to think of it, we are pretty strange "adults." We would write short stories. I think that is how I got in to writing. We would tell ellaborate tales about ghosts and mysteries. We read a lot too. She was in to Nancy Drew, and I was in to the Valley Girls. We did this for fun, believe it or not. We also would play a lot of make believe games. Our bikes were cars, trees and mail boxes were stores, and our brother Scott was a pon in our games, doing whatever we made him do. We called this particular bike game, "Life." We thought it was so fun to pretend to be adults. Stopping at trees to buy fake groceries, opening our neighbors mailboxes, pretending they were banks. Why is it that children want to be grown-ups so badly and then we you grow up, you want to be children again? Riddle me that.
Excuse my random nostalgia, I just miss my sister.
I miss her. She will be back in America soon with my nephew, Aiden, and after living on separate continents for a year, I have become more appreciative of having a sister, and a good friend. We call that, a "twofor."
We are only 16 months apart, and have had our ups and downs through life. Fighting to the point of almost killing eachother one moment and then being best friends the next. We are extremely similar, yet polar oppossites. There's a contradiction for ya.
She once threw a basketball at my head out of anger. On that same note, she also through a phone, a book, and many other objects at my head -but the basketball is the most memorable. It was infront of our whole Junior varsity basketball team, and well, it hurt. Maybe while I had my secret littering addiction, she had a secret "throwing objects at people" addiction. I think she has grown out of it, but I still wear a helmet when we hang out. Just incase.
Another memory that just popped in my head... We were young and she told me to put my middle finger up. Me, not thinking this was an odd request, did it. I did not realize it held any symbolism at the time. Wanna know what she did the second I did what she requested? She told on me. Yup, that's right, she ratted me out. "Mom! Charis stuck her middle finger up!," My mom was appalled, and I started crying. In between sobs, I said that I didn't know what it meant, and Ashley whispered, "It means you hate Jesus." I cried louder, "BUT I DON'T HATE JESUS." Ashley probably does not remember this memory, but apparently it took a toll on me.
We were pretty strange children, and come to think of it, we are pretty strange "adults." We would write short stories. I think that is how I got in to writing. We would tell ellaborate tales about ghosts and mysteries. We read a lot too. She was in to Nancy Drew, and I was in to the Valley Girls. We did this for fun, believe it or not. We also would play a lot of make believe games. Our bikes were cars, trees and mail boxes were stores, and our brother Scott was a pon in our games, doing whatever we made him do. We called this particular bike game, "Life." We thought it was so fun to pretend to be adults. Stopping at trees to buy fake groceries, opening our neighbors mailboxes, pretending they were banks. Why is it that children want to be grown-ups so badly and then we you grow up, you want to be children again? Riddle me that.
Excuse my random nostalgia, I just miss my sister.
Littering
I've done it.
In fact, I have a confession. When I was a child I loved to litter. I am ashamed to admit this, but it is time to confess. I cannot keep it bottled up any longer.
Using the world as my trash can and disobeying my mother gave me a rush, it was amazing. I remember my favorite place to litter out of was the car on the highway. I remember so vividly taking the remnants of my happy meal container and throwing pieces out the window, watching in the side mirror as the trashed released from my grasp and whipped away. I was such a compulsive litterer that I even took a flip flop off of my foot once and chucked it out the window. I was stealth. I had to be. I would peer at my mother, to make sure she was focused on the road, and then BAM I would litter. It was rather difficult explaining to her what had happened to my left flip flop once we met our destination. But, being probably 5 or 6 years of age, I could get away with just "losing" things.
As I got older, my addiction got harder to cover up. People would see, and would look at me with the look of disgrace. You know, everyone's like "save the planet, recycle, be green." Nope, not me. It just wasn't my nature. I loved to litter and refused to seek help. But then, things changed. I started to realize the importance of having both of my shoes, and the satisfaction of placing things in trash cans. The litter club I wanted to start didn't seem as alluring. I am happy to say I have been litter free since 1997.
Thanks for listening. The first step is acceptance.
In fact, I have a confession. When I was a child I loved to litter. I am ashamed to admit this, but it is time to confess. I cannot keep it bottled up any longer.
Using the world as my trash can and disobeying my mother gave me a rush, it was amazing. I remember my favorite place to litter out of was the car on the highway. I remember so vividly taking the remnants of my happy meal container and throwing pieces out the window, watching in the side mirror as the trashed released from my grasp and whipped away. I was such a compulsive litterer that I even took a flip flop off of my foot once and chucked it out the window. I was stealth. I had to be. I would peer at my mother, to make sure she was focused on the road, and then BAM I would litter. It was rather difficult explaining to her what had happened to my left flip flop once we met our destination. But, being probably 5 or 6 years of age, I could get away with just "losing" things.
As I got older, my addiction got harder to cover up. People would see, and would look at me with the look of disgrace. You know, everyone's like "save the planet, recycle, be green." Nope, not me. It just wasn't my nature. I loved to litter and refused to seek help. But then, things changed. I started to realize the importance of having both of my shoes, and the satisfaction of placing things in trash cans. The litter club I wanted to start didn't seem as alluring. I am happy to say I have been litter free since 1997.
Thanks for listening. The first step is acceptance.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Law
is stupid.
But I guess I have to abide by it. For the past couple of months I have been stuck in this weird RMV purgatory.
It all started when I was pulled over at the beginning of April for having an expired registration. Um, I think it was April 1st, and my expiration was March. Hardasses. Anyways, the officer was super nice and just wrote me a citation and told me to take care of it. I was relieved, and I thank you Officer O'Rourke (I'm sure he is a frequent reader of this blog).
So then, like an upstanding law abiding citizen I took a trip to the Worcester RMV. Probably one of the worst smelling places I have EVER visited. At noon on a Friday, it had the aroma of Body odor soaked in whiskey with a dash of rotting fish. I got my ticket and was informed my wait time was about an hour. GREAT. But, like previously mentioned, I just needed to get it taken care of.
After standing in high heels for an hour, trying not to vomit from the smell -it was my turn! They called me, yay, # 584!!! I marched right up to that counter with wrinkled registration in hand and stated my claim. Johnny RMV entered in my info, and looked up at me with a sad face. Kind of like the face my mom would have given me when breaking the news to me of a pet dying. In my head I was like, "really, what now." Or actually I think I may have said that out loud. Whatever I am babbling. Turns out, allegedly, I neglected to pay an excise tax from 2006. 2006!??? I immediately started my rant (even though Johnny RMV was pretty nice). Still. "What do you mean I didn't pay that? I must have, seeing as how I have had no problem renewing my registration for the past three years, what kind of establishment are you running? This is ridiculous." Johnny RMV, being very diplomatic, asked me if maybe I had some sort of proof of payment blah blah blah. Me, not being very diplomatic, said "from 2006 buddy? You gotta be joking." I was unable to renew my registration unless I paid this $120 tax from my past. Bullshit.
With tears welling up in my eyes I left that smelly RMV defeated depressed and angry. A BAD combination.
Okay Charis, suck it up and pay it. I did. Then I went to Ecuador before I had the pleasure to re-visit the Worcester RMV. Upon returning from my amazing trip I received a citation in the mail from my initial pull-over (With officer O'rourke) that he told me I could appeal. It was for $100, and they so nicely tacked on a $50 late fee. Apparently, it ain't Blockbuster. Hello another road block. I hate you law.
I assumed because of this citation, my vehicle was not renewable. And I refuse to pay this $150, so I requested a court date to appeal it. (If you are still reading, I am shocked! Don't worry, we're almost at the end).
So, the past month I have been tooting around Worcesterr in my car afraid for my life. Constantly checking my rear-view mirror every 2.8 seconds. Always going 35 in thickly settled zones, actually pulling over in parking lots when Police cars came in sight. I was just waiting for my appeal to go through, so I could renew. But the inevitable happened yesterday. I was on my way to the doctors for my annual physical at around 2:49 pm and I see blue flashing lights behind me. I was caught. I was (insert four letter word with an "ed" at the end here).
How was I going to explain to this officer my situation. He came up to the window and I just wanted to hand myself over, put my wrists up and say, "I give up, arrest me, take the car, I'm tired of being on the run -you win." Oh yea! I neglected to mention I did not even have a copy of my expired registration in my vehicle. Not goood. So, I took a deep breathe and got my dimples ready. "Hi Officer, it's kind of a long story," he reponded, "I don't want to hear it." Dimples weren't gonna work on this guy (Officer Farver). What else did I have? I had DESPERATION! yay. I quickly told my sad story before he dismissed me again and we were buddies. He presented me with options when he could have just towed my ass. Option one: I write you a citation for operating an ilegal vehicle and for having a crack in your winshield and I tow your car to some obscure bureau of Worcester. Option two: We just tow your car and pay to get it out after I renew. And then we had option three. I LOVE you option three. He said that if I had a cell phone, I could call the RMV and just renew over the phone and he would wait. What? Really? Oh my God, I love you officer Farber. So, while on hold for 30 minutes, he waited until I renewed my registration. I was free to go. The funny part is that I was parked on a cross-walk the whole time. In sum, I love you Worcester police.
But I guess I have to abide by it. For the past couple of months I have been stuck in this weird RMV purgatory.
It all started when I was pulled over at the beginning of April for having an expired registration. Um, I think it was April 1st, and my expiration was March. Hardasses. Anyways, the officer was super nice and just wrote me a citation and told me to take care of it. I was relieved, and I thank you Officer O'Rourke (I'm sure he is a frequent reader of this blog).
So then, like an upstanding law abiding citizen I took a trip to the Worcester RMV. Probably one of the worst smelling places I have EVER visited. At noon on a Friday, it had the aroma of Body odor soaked in whiskey with a dash of rotting fish. I got my ticket and was informed my wait time was about an hour. GREAT. But, like previously mentioned, I just needed to get it taken care of.
After standing in high heels for an hour, trying not to vomit from the smell -it was my turn! They called me, yay, # 584!!! I marched right up to that counter with wrinkled registration in hand and stated my claim. Johnny RMV entered in my info, and looked up at me with a sad face. Kind of like the face my mom would have given me when breaking the news to me of a pet dying. In my head I was like, "really, what now." Or actually I think I may have said that out loud. Whatever I am babbling. Turns out, allegedly, I neglected to pay an excise tax from 2006. 2006!??? I immediately started my rant (even though Johnny RMV was pretty nice). Still. "What do you mean I didn't pay that? I must have, seeing as how I have had no problem renewing my registration for the past three years, what kind of establishment are you running? This is ridiculous." Johnny RMV, being very diplomatic, asked me if maybe I had some sort of proof of payment blah blah blah. Me, not being very diplomatic, said "from 2006 buddy? You gotta be joking." I was unable to renew my registration unless I paid this $120 tax from my past. Bullshit.
With tears welling up in my eyes I left that smelly RMV defeated depressed and angry. A BAD combination.
Okay Charis, suck it up and pay it. I did. Then I went to Ecuador before I had the pleasure to re-visit the Worcester RMV. Upon returning from my amazing trip I received a citation in the mail from my initial pull-over (With officer O'rourke) that he told me I could appeal. It was for $100, and they so nicely tacked on a $50 late fee. Apparently, it ain't Blockbuster. Hello another road block. I hate you law.
I assumed because of this citation, my vehicle was not renewable. And I refuse to pay this $150, so I requested a court date to appeal it. (If you are still reading, I am shocked! Don't worry, we're almost at the end).
So, the past month I have been tooting around Worcesterr in my car afraid for my life. Constantly checking my rear-view mirror every 2.8 seconds. Always going 35 in thickly settled zones, actually pulling over in parking lots when Police cars came in sight. I was just waiting for my appeal to go through, so I could renew. But the inevitable happened yesterday. I was on my way to the doctors for my annual physical at around 2:49 pm and I see blue flashing lights behind me. I was caught. I was (insert four letter word with an "ed" at the end here).
How was I going to explain to this officer my situation. He came up to the window and I just wanted to hand myself over, put my wrists up and say, "I give up, arrest me, take the car, I'm tired of being on the run -you win." Oh yea! I neglected to mention I did not even have a copy of my expired registration in my vehicle. Not goood. So, I took a deep breathe and got my dimples ready. "Hi Officer, it's kind of a long story," he reponded, "I don't want to hear it." Dimples weren't gonna work on this guy (Officer Farver). What else did I have? I had DESPERATION! yay. I quickly told my sad story before he dismissed me again and we were buddies. He presented me with options when he could have just towed my ass. Option one: I write you a citation for operating an ilegal vehicle and for having a crack in your winshield and I tow your car to some obscure bureau of Worcester. Option two: We just tow your car and pay to get it out after I renew. And then we had option three. I LOVE you option three. He said that if I had a cell phone, I could call the RMV and just renew over the phone and he would wait. What? Really? Oh my God, I love you officer Farber. So, while on hold for 30 minutes, he waited until I renewed my registration. I was free to go. The funny part is that I was parked on a cross-walk the whole time. In sum, I love you Worcester police.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Bunk beds and beyond
I know this blog is titled, "Charis meets Ecuador," but I am going to branch out...real quick.
I pass a store on my route home from yoga called, "Bunk beds and Beyond," (Bet you didn't see that coming from the title of this blog).
I laugh to myself every time I pass it, and say out loud, "What is better than bunk beds?" What is this alleged "beyond." I undertand the concept behind Bed, Bath and Beyond. But people, beds and baths are very vague and the beyond is so much more whimsical and attractive. But...bunk beds...well, they are awesome! I have not had the pleasure to own or sleep in one recently. I feel compelled to go in to this store and see what the claim "beyond" is all about.
In my head, I imagine a new invention of a bed I cannot even fathom. In reality, they'll tell me they have a replica of the bunk bed seen in the movie BIG. I know this post was totally random, but welcome to my head on a Saturday night. And, no, I will not pay money for Match.com.
I pass a store on my route home from yoga called, "Bunk beds and Beyond," (Bet you didn't see that coming from the title of this blog).
I laugh to myself every time I pass it, and say out loud, "What is better than bunk beds?" What is this alleged "beyond." I undertand the concept behind Bed, Bath and Beyond. But people, beds and baths are very vague and the beyond is so much more whimsical and attractive. But...bunk beds...well, they are awesome! I have not had the pleasure to own or sleep in one recently. I feel compelled to go in to this store and see what the claim "beyond" is all about.
In my head, I imagine a new invention of a bed I cannot even fathom. In reality, they'll tell me they have a replica of the bunk bed seen in the movie BIG. I know this post was totally random, but welcome to my head on a Saturday night. And, no, I will not pay money for Match.com.
Miss-communication
That's me.
Some of you are probably perplexed that it has been almost a month since my trip to Ecuador, and yet I am still blogging. But, my thought is no one is really reading this, so why not write for my own recollection? My memory sucks at 24, so it's only going downhill from here people. I'm sure Cyndi still checks this. "Hi Cyndi"
I'm a talker and a writer. I communicate. I LOVE it. It's my thing -they actually pay me for it. So you must understand the frustration I was faced with when having to resort to half-ass charades and an awful attempt at the beautiful spanish language when I was in Ecuador.
At first, it did not seem like a big deal. I realized what I was in for, and I knew I had Ashley and Javier to translate. That was the first night. After that, I would just talk english to people -totally forgetting they had no clue as to what I was saying! It was annoying and liberating all at the same time. I finally had a secret language with Ashley, where we could talk at the dinner table and no one knew what, or who, we were talking about (Besides Javier, and I always forgot he could understand). For example, Ashley could say, "I have gas." And I could be like, "Me too, must have been the empanadas," and would not be embarrassed. That was liberating. (Ashley, do not comment on my spelling of empanadas please).
Frustration:
But then, when we were in Bannos looking at beautiful waterfalls, I REALLY had to pee. So, our lovely and very handsome tour guide/cabbie showed me where to a bathroom. I had to go soooooo bad I pushed aside a little girl who was trying to talk to me in spanish. I assumed she was trying to sell me toilet paper, but Ashley had given me some to use.
Turns out...it costs money to use public bathrooms there, and that little girl was trying to collect 10 cents from me to use this particular toilet. MISCOMMUNICATION. When I got out, Ashley was laughing as she explained what had happened. How was I supposed to know. I felt bad, but am rarely confronted with 8 year-old embargo types standing outside bathroom stalls. It was funny. I am uncertain if this is translating well via blog. (Which is embarrassing since I already claimed to be a "great communicator.")
I also screwed up a lot of easy spanish words and quickly got the correction from Ashley who has been correcting my english and grammar since I was in the whom.
In sum, I REALLY would like to go back to Ecuador, but will make it a point to take a language class before. Spanish for dummies DID NOT WORK for me. :-)
Some of you are probably perplexed that it has been almost a month since my trip to Ecuador, and yet I am still blogging. But, my thought is no one is really reading this, so why not write for my own recollection? My memory sucks at 24, so it's only going downhill from here people. I'm sure Cyndi still checks this. "Hi Cyndi"
I'm a talker and a writer. I communicate. I LOVE it. It's my thing -they actually pay me for it. So you must understand the frustration I was faced with when having to resort to half-ass charades and an awful attempt at the beautiful spanish language when I was in Ecuador.
At first, it did not seem like a big deal. I realized what I was in for, and I knew I had Ashley and Javier to translate. That was the first night. After that, I would just talk english to people -totally forgetting they had no clue as to what I was saying! It was annoying and liberating all at the same time. I finally had a secret language with Ashley, where we could talk at the dinner table and no one knew what, or who, we were talking about (Besides Javier, and I always forgot he could understand). For example, Ashley could say, "I have gas." And I could be like, "Me too, must have been the empanadas," and would not be embarrassed. That was liberating. (Ashley, do not comment on my spelling of empanadas please).
Frustration:
But then, when we were in Bannos looking at beautiful waterfalls, I REALLY had to pee. So, our lovely and very handsome tour guide/cabbie showed me where to a bathroom. I had to go soooooo bad I pushed aside a little girl who was trying to talk to me in spanish. I assumed she was trying to sell me toilet paper, but Ashley had given me some to use.
Turns out...it costs money to use public bathrooms there, and that little girl was trying to collect 10 cents from me to use this particular toilet. MISCOMMUNICATION. When I got out, Ashley was laughing as she explained what had happened. How was I supposed to know. I felt bad, but am rarely confronted with 8 year-old embargo types standing outside bathroom stalls. It was funny. I am uncertain if this is translating well via blog. (Which is embarrassing since I already claimed to be a "great communicator.")
I also screwed up a lot of easy spanish words and quickly got the correction from Ashley who has been correcting my english and grammar since I was in the whom.
In sum, I REALLY would like to go back to Ecuador, but will make it a point to take a language class before. Spanish for dummies DID NOT WORK for me. :-)
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Road
The mountains and wilderness were untouched by greedy human hands. My eyes were not ambushed by the harsh purples and oranges of Dunkin Donuts or street lights and strip malls. The reds, oranges and yellows were instead represented on clothes lines strung around houses –as if for decoration and not necessity. The bus slowly rounded the bumpy corners. We traveled up through mountains –and then down, repeatedly. My eyes were attacked by the beautiful world I observed. I was far from anything I knew, responsibility of any kind and normalcy. The feeling was ineffable. Moments like this rekindle my belief in God. A belief that comes and goes far too often with all the hardships life can bring. The road was bumpy, and to some may have felt uncomfortable, but I felt placid, calm –alive. I was simply happy for the first time in a long time. It had been too long. I gazed at the myriad of greens that I didn’t even know existed. Mesmerized, I breathed in deeply. I needed to breathe down deep in to my toes in order to fully take in my surroundings. Two cows glimpsed in to the bus at me as I stared back. They knew. Waterfalls bathed the mountainside, nourishing the jungle. All I could hear was the humming of the bus and the Spanish language spoken by the other passengers which I could not understand. The combination was a peaceful melody as we weaved through Ecuador.
After about 8 hours of staring out the window in awe, we approached Gualaquiza. The journey was over, but the trip had really just begun. My sister and one month old nephew were awaiting my arrival. Javier, my brother-in-law, appeared as if for the first time, even though he had been beside me the whole trip. Snapping out of my trance, it was time to get off of the bus. Everyone else zealously leaped up to exit the confined vehicle, but I carefully had to separate my butt from the seat. With backpack over shoulder, as if inebriated, I stumbled forward not knowing what to expect next. I exited the bus and planted my feet on the solid ground. Where was I?
After about 8 hours of staring out the window in awe, we approached Gualaquiza. The journey was over, but the trip had really just begun. My sister and one month old nephew were awaiting my arrival. Javier, my brother-in-law, appeared as if for the first time, even though he had been beside me the whole trip. Snapping out of my trance, it was time to get off of the bus. Everyone else zealously leaped up to exit the confined vehicle, but I carefully had to separate my butt from the seat. With backpack over shoulder, as if inebriated, I stumbled forward not knowing what to expect next. I exited the bus and planted my feet on the solid ground. Where was I?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Show and tell
My sister and brother-in-law teach english at the high school down the street, and Tuesday I accompanied them as the American guest. The students were asked to come up with questions for me in english. It was pretty fun. Their questions ranged from What are your hobbies? What kind of music do you like? to Do you have a boyfriend? And What are your thoughts on Ecuadorian men. Yes, 16 year-old boys are the same here.
I was quite the spectacle. It's very rare for them to see a white girl walking around town. Ashley has been here for almost a year, so they are used to her. It cracks me up. Small children look at me with horror and cling to their parents as if I was a monster looking to eat them for lunch. The men and women just stare. So, if you are attention starved or need an ego boost, Gualaquiza, Ecuador is for you!
I was quite the spectacle. It's very rare for them to see a white girl walking around town. Ashley has been here for almost a year, so they are used to her. It cracks me up. Small children look at me with horror and cling to their parents as if I was a monster looking to eat them for lunch. The men and women just stare. So, if you are attention starved or need an ego boost, Gualaquiza, Ecuador is for you!
Out on the town -with no translator!
With pocket dictionary in hand and four dollars in my pocket, I went out on the town last night with Henry and Anita (My brother-in-law's siblings). I was slightly nervous because they do not speak english and I do not speak spanish. Hmmmm...what were wegoing to do, sit there and drink in silence?
It turned out to be an amazing time! Apparently, there english is a little better than they let on, they are just shy and nervous to try and speak it. But after a few cervezas, we were communicating VERY well -And even better when we broke out the whiskey. Also, I'm using my amazing charades skills. It is helpful, but I look like a total idiot. You should see my airplane. (I think I almost hurt someone last night with my wing span).
It turned out to be an amazing time! Apparently, there english is a little better than they let on, they are just shy and nervous to try and speak it. But after a few cervezas, we were communicating VERY well -And even better when we broke out the whiskey. Also, I'm using my amazing charades skills. It is helpful, but I look like a total idiot. You should see my airplane. (I think I almost hurt someone last night with my wing span).
Wilderness Woman
I feel like one.
Yesterday afternoon Ashley, Javier, Aiden and I went to the small farm to feed the animals. Well Javier tended to the animals while we lounged around. I was drinking a beer, sitting on a bench chewing on fresh sugar cane watching the cats play and listening to the chickens squack. It amazes me how self-sufficient they are here. Oh yea, and I saw a chicken/rooster thing up in a tree! crazy. Also on the farm, lives a cat with no tail. I call him a Cabbit because he looks like a mix between a cat and a rabbit. He's adorable. I want to steal him for Kat my co-worker, who is an animal lover. The Cabbit cannot walk straight because of his lack of a tail. Ashley told me he fell off the top of the bench once. Poor guy.
I have learned A LOT about the culture here. Did you know that they think America is just New York. Or they assume if you're from America you are from New York because it is such a huge city where they would go to live and find work easily. I thought that was interesting. Also, no one reads here. They can read and are literate but do not read for pleasure. They think it's strange that Ashley and I can bury ourselves in a good book for hours.
I have come to really love Javier's family, my new nephew and this great experience called "traveling." This experience has made me realize how much more of the world I want to see.
Yesterday afternoon Ashley, Javier, Aiden and I went to the small farm to feed the animals. Well Javier tended to the animals while we lounged around. I was drinking a beer, sitting on a bench chewing on fresh sugar cane watching the cats play and listening to the chickens squack. It amazes me how self-sufficient they are here. Oh yea, and I saw a chicken/rooster thing up in a tree! crazy. Also on the farm, lives a cat with no tail. I call him a Cabbit because he looks like a mix between a cat and a rabbit. He's adorable. I want to steal him for Kat my co-worker, who is an animal lover. The Cabbit cannot walk straight because of his lack of a tail. Ashley told me he fell off the top of the bench once. Poor guy.
I have learned A LOT about the culture here. Did you know that they think America is just New York. Or they assume if you're from America you are from New York because it is such a huge city where they would go to live and find work easily. I thought that was interesting. Also, no one reads here. They can read and are literate but do not read for pleasure. They think it's strange that Ashley and I can bury ourselves in a good book for hours.
I have come to really love Javier's family, my new nephew and this great experience called "traveling." This experience has made me realize how much more of the world I want to see.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Firsts
I have tried, and done a lot of things for the first time, like:
-Visiting South America
-Drank milk straight from the cow
-Ate roasted pig
-Held my nephew
-Was bit by a bug, killed it on my shoulder, and thought I was going to die
-Saw a farm full of guinnea pigs, chickens, cats, dogs and pigs. The cat had no tail.
-Saw Ecuadorians perfom their civic duty by voting
And lots more!
Different things about the culture:
-We eat with our hands, or maybe a spoon
-We share glasses. You drink your soda or beer fast and give it back for someone else to use
-We do not flush toilet paper
-Roosters crow all day
-I was given a chicken as a gift (When I went to the roof to read, he was just there, tied to a chair)
-Everyone knows the mayor, and everyone else in the town
-You ride around in the back of a truck -No seatbelts, no carseats
-You can't drink during election weekend (Even though we did)
-Voting is required by law. Men with guns guard the polling sites
-No one speaks english very well. It is not a necessity here. In America, it is a useful tool to know other languages.
-We eat a lot of starch. Rice, yuka, plantanes....
And more! But I have to get going. I think we are visiting a couple farms today.
-Visiting South America
-Drank milk straight from the cow
-Ate roasted pig
-Held my nephew
-Was bit by a bug, killed it on my shoulder, and thought I was going to die
-Saw a farm full of guinnea pigs, chickens, cats, dogs and pigs. The cat had no tail.
-Saw Ecuadorians perfom their civic duty by voting
And lots more!
Different things about the culture:
-We eat with our hands, or maybe a spoon
-We share glasses. You drink your soda or beer fast and give it back for someone else to use
-We do not flush toilet paper
-Roosters crow all day
-I was given a chicken as a gift (When I went to the roof to read, he was just there, tied to a chair)
-Everyone knows the mayor, and everyone else in the town
-You ride around in the back of a truck -No seatbelts, no carseats
-You can't drink during election weekend (Even though we did)
-Voting is required by law. Men with guns guard the polling sites
-No one speaks english very well. It is not a necessity here. In America, it is a useful tool to know other languages.
-We eat a lot of starch. Rice, yuka, plantanes....
And more! But I have to get going. I think we are visiting a couple farms today.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Hello Culture Shock, it's me, Charis.
I am having an incredibly amazing time!
I arrived in Quito Thursday night, and Javier (my brother-in-law) was there to pick me up. We hopped in a taxi, and my super star status, or "Gringa" (American idiot) status began. Apparently, the second a cab driver sees a white girl the fare doubles. Javier only spent $2.50 for a cab from his aunt's house to the airport, and when we went to go to his aunt's the cabbie said "$6.00" Javier argued with him and they settled on $4....still screwy.
From there, I felt like a fugitive in the night, Javier's aunt owns a store and filled a bag full of snacks and drinks for the 18hour bus drive and then scurried us off in to another cab. Then we got on the bus, where I continued to get odd stares and people actually come on the bus and try to sell you crap. Of course, white girl here, was a target. Anyways....we arrived last night at around 7:00. The bus ride was like a cross between The Sound of Music and The Jungle Book...I half expected Julie Andrews to be dancing around on the mountain tops, or Baloo the bear to come out of a tree singing the Bear Necessities of life. It was a beautiful (bumpy) LONG ride.
When we arrived, Javier's family greeted me so nicely. Fresh roses in the living room, a dinner they thought I would like (Ash's favorite), and cervesa. It is extremely difficult to express myself for all the great things they are doing for me because I don't speak the language.
Ashley (my sister) has become our translator, but messes up sometimes, telling me stuff in spanish and Javier's family english. It is funny.
Javier's brother, Henry brought 4 of his friends over last night for some cervesa. I thought it was just a normal Friday night gathering, but later, Ashley told me they came to see "The Gringa." I feel like a famous person or a rare breed of something.
His friend Fernando asked me out on a date, or later asked if I could help him with his english. *Good line*
Okay, I am totally babbliing, but so much has happened in 3 days.
My nephew, Aiden is amazing. We had a nice heart to heart earlier. Okay, I am being called for dinner.
Adios
I arrived in Quito Thursday night, and Javier (my brother-in-law) was there to pick me up. We hopped in a taxi, and my super star status, or "Gringa" (American idiot) status began. Apparently, the second a cab driver sees a white girl the fare doubles. Javier only spent $2.50 for a cab from his aunt's house to the airport, and when we went to go to his aunt's the cabbie said "$6.00" Javier argued with him and they settled on $4....still screwy.
From there, I felt like a fugitive in the night, Javier's aunt owns a store and filled a bag full of snacks and drinks for the 18hour bus drive and then scurried us off in to another cab. Then we got on the bus, where I continued to get odd stares and people actually come on the bus and try to sell you crap. Of course, white girl here, was a target. Anyways....we arrived last night at around 7:00. The bus ride was like a cross between The Sound of Music and The Jungle Book...I half expected Julie Andrews to be dancing around on the mountain tops, or Baloo the bear to come out of a tree singing the Bear Necessities of life. It was a beautiful (bumpy) LONG ride.
When we arrived, Javier's family greeted me so nicely. Fresh roses in the living room, a dinner they thought I would like (Ash's favorite), and cervesa. It is extremely difficult to express myself for all the great things they are doing for me because I don't speak the language.
Ashley (my sister) has become our translator, but messes up sometimes, telling me stuff in spanish and Javier's family english. It is funny.
Javier's brother, Henry brought 4 of his friends over last night for some cervesa. I thought it was just a normal Friday night gathering, but later, Ashley told me they came to see "The Gringa." I feel like a famous person or a rare breed of something.
His friend Fernando asked me out on a date, or later asked if I could help him with his english. *Good line*
Okay, I am totally babbliing, but so much has happened in 3 days.
My nephew, Aiden is amazing. We had a nice heart to heart earlier. Okay, I am being called for dinner.
Adios
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The day before. Dun dun dun
I am leaving for Ecuador tomorrow --Excited, yet nervous. I have many requests from co-workers and friends. I must return with a goat for Kat, try not to get stuck in the midst of a coup, avoid Ecuadorian naval projects (for fear of piracy), and to try and avoid yellow fever, malaria, and other foreign ailments/diseases that may kill me.
I will land in Quito, Ecuador at 8:00 tomorrow night where my brother in law will be there to pick me up (hopefully). I am very nervous about this part because I don't speak ANY spanish and will have to go through customs and all that crap. I just want Javier to appear as I exit the plane so I don't get lost. After that...we will embark to Gualaquiza Ecuador, the village where my sister, my nephew, Javier and his family live. That, I believe, is something like a 15 hour bus ride across the country...Should be very interesting.
So, in sum, I have no idea what I am getting in to, or what to expect. I am just so excited to see my sister and meet my little nephew, Aiden! And it doesn't hurt to have 2 weeks off from work.
Stay tuned...
I will land in Quito, Ecuador at 8:00 tomorrow night where my brother in law will be there to pick me up (hopefully). I am very nervous about this part because I don't speak ANY spanish and will have to go through customs and all that crap. I just want Javier to appear as I exit the plane so I don't get lost. After that...we will embark to Gualaquiza Ecuador, the village where my sister, my nephew, Javier and his family live. That, I believe, is something like a 15 hour bus ride across the country...Should be very interesting.
So, in sum, I have no idea what I am getting in to, or what to expect. I am just so excited to see my sister and meet my little nephew, Aiden! And it doesn't hurt to have 2 weeks off from work.
Stay tuned...
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