Author Archives: tim

On Friday night, I had three students in class. They were all really motivated students who didn’t seem bored, but the class was relatively empty. I spent a lot of time pacing around the room, making sure I was available for questions. And when I walked from the front of the room toward the back, I could see my clear reflection in the window overlooking the courtyard. For most of my night class, it’s dark outside, which means that with the lights on in the classroom, what you see when you look at the windows is yourself in the classroom, looking at the windows.

Friday night was no exception. I saw myself looking back at myself in the window. The only difference was that at certain angles, the room seemed entirely empty. And I could imagine that I was looking at a ghost, pacing up and down the aisles in an barren classroom.

Chances are good that one month from now, on July 19th, I’ll spend my last day in SECAP ever. I’ll be a ghost, a memory — a part of my spirit left in this experience that will forever be a part of me.

There’s been a trade, you see. I’ve left a part of myself here; and I’ve gained a new facet of myself.

I’m looking forward to coming home. In fact, Eileen and I have been anticipating it with excitement, talking to each other about the comfort and familiarity that awaits us when we return and we get to sit on grass in our yard or pet the dog or drink tap water. But I don’t want thoughts of home to overshadow the next month I’ve got here.

It helps me to think of the end well before the end, to imagine the goodbyes and what I’ll miss and where I’ve traded parts of my spirit with new parts. I don’t plan on spending the next month writing nostalgic, pseudo-poetic journal entries to post on my blog. It’s just that if I can see the ghosts now, I’ll maybe live here for the next month instead of back in Wisconsin.

I’m anticipating going around town and taking pictures of all the stuff I don’t normally take pictures of. I’ll have to get pictures of the people I see on a regular basis, like the SECAP guards, the copy lady, the grumpy corner store woman, the internet guy who lets me print off worksheets and doesn’t charge me for computer time, and of course, my students. If someone is reluctant to allow the picture I’ll explain that today is the “ultima dia de mi vida.” If they look shocked, I’ll explain that it’s the last day of my life in Ecuador. And if they press me, I’ll admit that it’s not quite the last day, but that it’s coming up.

I’ll do my best to live here for the next 30 days.

On Friday, in my near-empty classroom, as I walked toward the window, my reflection grew stronger and more defined each time I passed under the overhead florescent lights. When I got closer to the window, further from the overhead lights, my reflection began to fade a little. And when I got right up to the window so that my nose was practically touching it, my face disappeared altogether. All I could see was the mountainside of Pichincha, peppered with lights. That’s got to be a metaphor for something.

Many of my entries in the past few months have been mostly about the negatives of American culture. At least, that’s been the ongoing thesis running through my brain, if not necessarily through my writing. Well, I’m practically a month from leaving, so I’ve been anticipating the return more and more (another prominent motif recently). So just to keep things balanced, I’ve developed this list of 10 things we won’t have to do once we’re back in Madison.

1) Wash vegetables and fruits with a special antibacterial liquid.
2) Hail busses and taxis to get around town
3) Wonder if all the doors at school will be able to be opened.
4) Work out in a gym
5) Always make sure we have bus fare in our pockets.
6) Pay for copies for school.
7) Spray Raid under our mattress.
8) Avoid certain restaurants and foods for fear of getting parasites.
9) Breath large quantities of bus exhaust.
10) Try not to itch our flea/bed bug bites.

Gotta post this. Eileen got this hilarious email from one of her former students, who is a very nice guy, by the way. We both know we shouldn’t laugh at people who can’t speak English, but it’s just so funny.

Hello Eileen:

How do you doing??

Well, I like that you write me. Please write me to these adress or
[deleted]

Please, Could you send me the last day course photographies

I send you a funny squeleton which likes dance. See attache. I hope that
like you…

Write me soon
bye bye

click here for the “squeleton” video

In the kitchen

Yesterday, ten of my students came over to make a parillada (a cook-out). It was a lot of fun, but unfortunately, Eileen was sick so she was in bed all day.

Freddy, the guy you see below, was pretty much the master chef. He claimed he wasn’t a chef, but he was pretty comfortable in the kitchen. He made this amazing orange vinagrette salad dressing, and his aji (hot sauce) was also wonderful. We grilled steak, pork chops, and about four different kinds of sausage.

Grilling out

After we ate, they brought out the cake and had me blow out the question mark candle.

Birthday cake

The other day, while leaving SECAP, I walked by a huge pile of poo on the sidewalk. Two steps later, I saw some toilet paper. The above lead me to believe the poo was human poo.

I tell that story despite the fact that Eileen’s Uncle Bill will probably read it and make an inappropriate comment.

Two days ago, a nearby volcano coughed up a little vapor and ash. They say it might blow its top within the next two months. How cool would that be? (Don’t worry, worriers. We’d be covered in ash, but far from the lava.)

In Peru, we tried coca leaves. It’s not that great tasting; kinda like chewing on tea leaves, except that in larger quantities, it makes your mouth a little numb. The Peruvians are very proud of it; they are constantly toting its nutritional value and its important cultural role. They are also quick to explain that it’s not cocaine. It doesn’t get you high in the least.

Nonetheless, when we were at Machu Picchu, all of the gringo tourists in our group refused to take any of the coca leaves our guide offered them — except me and Eric, of course. Eileen and Joni had tried it before, but they didn’t like it as much.

One night in Cusco, while I was looking at email on our hostal’s free internet-providing computer, I opened a Google page and began typing something in the search form. When you do that, a list of prior searches comes up. I saw “drug test” and “coca leaf,” in that list and, intrigued, I selected it. Turns out coca leaves would show up on a drug test (just like poppy seeds would) for about a week after chewing them.

This morning, I balled out my students for being consistently late to class. They were like scolded dogs for the rest of class. It was kinda awkward. But at 7:15, when the class actually starts, 2 students were there! By 8:00, I had 11 students. There are 16 students in the class.

I finished the short story which I’m submitting to the Madison Magazine short fiction contest. It’s not perfect, but I’m pretty happy with it.

We’ve been invited to a “pimps and hoes” party tonight, but we don’t have the money to spend on nasty-ass clothes we’ll never wear again. We’ll go as ourselves, Pimp T-Dawg and Skanky E.