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Ecuador Archives: An Armed Robbery Story.

Quito is dangerous.

Quito is really dangerous.

I knew that.

In fact, that very week the entire Ecuador cohort and I had received safety training from the US Embassy.

It was dark, but not late at night. Maybe 8 pm or 9? My host mom is a nurse and she was giving a patient their medication. My sister was rummaging through bags of the new school supplies; my host dad had just picked us up from the mall. He was sitting in the driver's seat. My mom's seat was empty. My host sister was to my left.

We weren't sitting there for more than five minutes.

................

A man wearing all black and a mask appears at my dad's car door. He is holding a gun.

It all happens very fast after that.

Man holding gun aims at Dad. I can't speak Spanish well yet, but I know he has just told him to unlock the doors.

The doors are unlocked.

Man One stays in place with gun pointed at Dad.

Second Man sits in passenger seat next to Dad. He is shaking Dad down. He is demanding Dad's wallet, which Dad willingly hands over. He is rummaging through the glove compartment. 

Dad is always so calm, but right now his eyes are bug eyed and his hands are up on the air in surrender. He keeps saying the same words over and over again. I don't understand them, but I am sure he is telling them to take whatever they want and not to hurt us.

Man Three opens the door on my side and forces his way in. He scoots me to the middle to make room for himself. This man is holding a long screw driver. He points it at me while he yells instructions. Or maybe he isn't yelling. I cannot tell you. All I hear is words I don't understand. Dad's eyes are so big.

I am squished between Sister and Man Three.

He is wearing a mask so I cannot see his face. Maybe I could see his eyes, but I don't dare look. I only notice he, too, is wearing all black.

Man Three looks through my sister's shopping bags. He asks her what is in them. Sister is frantic, in tears, screaming. She yells that it is only notebooks and school supplies. I understand those Spanish words. She is not lying to him. Man Three looks through the bags anyway. 

Sister is scream-crying. I am afraid, but I do not scream. I only sit, stunned.

Man Three is patting us down. First Sister and then me. He keeps saying words to me. I do not understand them. I say "¡No hablo inglés!" because it's the first words I think of. I just told him "I don't speak English!" I think he gets the point, though.

I wonder if we may be abducted or killed. I have an odd thought that this scenario would make a good opening scene for a Criminal Minds episode.

I reach to hold Sister's hand.

Man Three is patting me down again. He pats every part of me, including pulling my dress up in search of anything I may be hiding.

My Ecuadorian ID, my banco de barrio card and my cell phone are all in my bra (a trick I had learned from the US Embassy earlier in the week). I should have willingly given them up, but I am not thinking logically. I am only praying he doesn't find them. I don't know if he will be angry if he finds something I intentionally hid from him.

He doesn't find anything.

I am so grateful he doesn't find anything.

..........

It is over as quickly as it began. The entire scene played out in under ten minutes. I imagine the longer it takes them, the more risk they have of getting caught.

..........

Man One continues to hold the gun to Dad's face while Man Two the Wallet Thief, Man Three the Screw-Driver Assailant and Man Four the Trunk Rummager flee to their car.

Man One waits until they are a safe distance and then runs after them.

I sit still a moment. The fear is really setting in. I think they have left, but I don't feel safe. Are they really gone? What if they come back?

I turn around. They speed off but not before I look The Four Men Dressed in Black right in the eyes. 

My heart is beating fast, or it has stopped beating altogether. I'm not sure which. 

Sister is still crying loudly. I am still holding her hand. I don't want to let go. I lock my door. I don't know what else to do. What if they come back?

Dad keeps asking me if I'm okay. "Estoy bien. Estoy bien," I insist. I am fine. I am shaken but I am just fine.

They're gone, I think.

Ecuador Archives: Carnaval Part 2 THE FOOD

I know what you're thinking: Wow, that intestine soup looks DELICIOUS. How do you think I could make myself some of that?

Now I would never give away my family's cooking secrets, but I do have some behind-the-scenes footage of the making of this tradition Carnaval dish:

¡Buen provecho!

Part One

Ecuador Archives: Carnaval 2013 Part 1

Carnaval 2014 happened in early March, so I'm a little late for the year mark. It's a good thing this is my blog and I can do whatever I want.

Carnaval in Puerto Quito is an excuse to throw paint and water at everyone you love and everyone you secretly hate.

You make some enemies. I made the mistake of throwing paint at a little kid with a squirt gun. He followed me around with his squirt gun and then a hose for an hour. I thoroughly regret making that enemy.

Betty & myself before :

Alright, Betty.. white shirts? We deserve every ounce of paint thrown at us; we were asking for it.

Betty & myself after :

(Feel like you're playing "Where's Waldo"? I made it easier for you....)

¡Feliz Carnavales, Puerto Quito! Te extraño.

Part Two: The Food

we could all use a little more ryan gosling in our lives.

Or is that just me?

ER Stories 5: Dislocated Hip

Note: These posts are intentionally vague (with no names, ages, or dates) so as to protect patient confidentiality. These stories are random and their publication dates have no correlation to the dates they occurred.

My first dislocated hip.

Very cool older woman with a great sense of humor.

Two nurses, me (ER Tech) and the doctor.

The doctor administers sedative, making the patient sleepy.

(We know she is out of it when she says "Doctor... I amm soo glwaoudd yoaahuu........ greaaaaadfdfa .. peeeee... ajlwoudlfajadfljad....")

One nurse charts.

Second nurse holds patient's hips.

 I help hold the rest of the patient.

Doctor props his knee up onto the bed and proceeds manipulating the leg. The goal is to put the bone back into its socket (called reduction).



THESE PICTURES DO NOT GIVE IT JUSTICE