I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAY-ING.

You know how when you are talking to people that aren't native English speakers, you tend to talk LOUDER and YOU MAKE SURE EV-ER-Y SYL-LA-BLE IS DIS-TINCT? We also use our hands a LOT more, making WILD gestures, and making every thing seem so much BIGGER than it really is? We all do it, regardless of the fact that we realize that we are doing it. Take my dad (we all know how much I love my dad!) for example. When talking to Juan, our Spanish-speaking employee, my dad talks loudly, chops up his syllables, and waves his arms around like a maniac (for those of you who don't know my dad, you know how I talk with my hands all the time? I get it from him.). I will admit that it has gotten better over the years that Juan has worked for him, but my dad still talks slightly differently to Juan than to an English-speaking employee. Dad? If you're reading this (or when Mom tells you about it) I love you. :)

To anyone that I have ever talked LOUDER, more DIS-TINCT-LY, and almost hit you in the face with my outrageous gestures, I apologize. When I first arrived in Ecuador, people spoke like this to me in Spanish. Most of the time, it was because I asked them to repeat themselves because they
a. had food in their mouth as they were talking to me (my host sister is HORRIBLE with this),
b. mumbled, or
c. were talking so dang fast that I did, in fact, NEED them to slow down.
Now, this has gotten better, and I have really appreciated it. On Monday, however, I realized that, blast, I was doing the same thing to my STUDENTS (those poor things!). One of them kept asking me the same question over and over and OVER, and I literally said “I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAY-ING. PLEASE ASK MAR-TI-NA (another student in the class) BE-CAUSE I CAN NOT HELP YOU.” please imagine – my mouth is over-exagerrating EVERY word, my arms are flying all over the place, and I'm practically YELLING. Oh. My. God. Poor, poor Juan Carlos. I hope that he shows up later today for class.

Changing topics, because it horrifies me to think about what I have done, over the weekend, I went to the grocery store “Supermaxi” - the popular chain. I was walking around, and found myself in the candy aisle (I love candy). I was browsing, and found at that after all of these years, all of our mothers were wrong: cough drops are, in fact, candy. There they hung, right in between the Jolly Ranchers and Blow Pops (which I bought). I would tell you that I wasn't sure that they were actually cough drops, but Halls? They had the pink AND the blue kind. So sorry to all of the mothers – and teachers – out there. You can no longer scold your children/students for sucking on cough drops like candy. Because they ARE candy. What a wonderful discovery!

Of course, like every other weekend, Sunday was once again family day. This week, however, everyone gathered at our teeny-tiny apartment. 40 people. I couldn't move and actually didn't move for most of the day in fear that I would lose my seat next to fun Aunt Sandra and cousin Salim (the cousin who *tried* teaching me salsa. Ha. I'm just happy that he still wants to be my friend) and have to go mingle with weird Uncle Marcello.

I've made another friend in the family – Cousin Sophie, age 3. I have NO idea why she's taken such a liking to me – I literally spoke maybe 5 words to her before this past Sunday, but right when she came into the house, she made her way to me and sat on my lap. Ummmm... Great? She has this squeaky little voice, and I can actually understand her when she speaks Spanish (it's surprisingly difficult to understand children speak Spanish). As she was sitting on my lap, she turned herself around so she was facing me, takes my face in her hands, and says “Sarita, you are so beautiful (awwwwwwwwwwwww)... Just like me.” Well thank you, Sophie, knowing that I am as beautiful as you is quite wonderful. I can't WAIT to see what you're like when you're older... Later on, she started touching my hair and said “Oh Sarita, I wish I had beautiful blonde hair just like you.” This kid is making me feel pretty good about myself. I'm excited to see her again on the next family day so that I can be showered with compliments once again. 3-year-old Sophie definitely makes me feel better than 84-year-old Grandma “Ah, Sarita, I think that you are taller.” (Shout-out to my dear Grandma Ann who tells all of her grandchildren that they have gotten taller every time she sees us) No, Grandma, it is more likely that at this point in life, you actually got shorter.

Because I have my “beautiful blonde hair” and am apparently getting taller by the week, I'm obviously (as we already know) easy to pick out of a crowd. Ecuadorians love helping foreigners, especially (as Henrry has told me) “gringas with blonde hair”. Great. I've started to notice this more and more, especially on my walks to and from school. About every other day, a car honks at me, and until Monday, I've been so confused as to why this happens. It's not when I'm crossing the street (which is so scary), but when I'm walking on an obvious cement sidewalk. On Monday, I got a glimpse of the person who honked at me, and they motioned that I get in the back of their car. Excuse me? I kept walking, but of course, I came to a red light, and found myself right BESIDE the car that a second ago told me to get in the car. They honked again, and did the motion again. I shook my head (looking terrified, I have no doubt), and the man says “You hitch-hike!” What? No. When I walk, I make a conscious effort to keep my hands at my sides/in my pockets so that I do not run into situations like this. I saw Henrry, one of my students, walking towards me, and I went over and greeted him to make it look like Hey! I have friends! Please leave this white girl alone. Henrry kindly explained to me that they really DID want to help me; Ecuadorians are “the nicest people in the world”. Maybe, but no, I will not be getting into any random cars while I am here.

UN-TIL NEXT TIME,
SA-RA