Showing posts with label Puerto Quito. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Puerto Quito. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

ER Stories 12: Motor Vehicle Accident (MVA)





It's almost one.

12:35.

Uh.. it's sort of almost one.

Sigh.

We've stopped accepting new patients at this point. (That's the nice part about working in a health clinic in Ecuador: we can close up shop for an hour a day during lunchtime without much consequence.)

12:37....

Monday, May 12, 2014

Middle-to-Upper Class Guilt




I am not wealthy.

I am far from being wealthy.

Yet I am actually pretty wealthy.




Sometimes I wait a few seconds for the tap water to get cold before filling my glass, and I don't think much about the clean water going down the drain.

I drive a car. I own a car. I can pay for gas to fuel my car.

I have a job. 

I had the chance to graduate high school.

I go to college.

I have free time.





I am not wealthy.

I am far from being wealthy.

Yet I am actually pretty wealthy.

Should I feel guilty?




I lived in Ecuador for a year. I lived with a host family, worked in a local clinic and tried my hardest to immerse myself into the Ecuadorian way of life.

I felt many emotions when I was leaving Ecuador to come back to the United States. I wondered how I could possibly mix my new simplified way of life with my old, energy-inefficient American lifestyle.


I had a dream a few weeks before I left:


I dreamt that I was walking through my town in Puerto Quito. It was a normal day, except for some reason I was in a hurry. That was odd, as I was hardly ever in a hurry; rushing just doesn't mesh with the relaxed Puerto Quito lifestyle.

Some boy was whistling at me.

I kept walking.

Men whistle at women all the time in Ecuador and it annoys me more than anything.

I assumed this boy wanted my attention and I was in a hurry. I never gave him a second glance.

..but this boy was very persistent. He was abnormally persistent; he was annoyingly persistent.

As I sped-walk to the bus station, he kept trying to get my attention. I continued to ignore him. Can't he take a hint?

Finally, I turned toward him to yell at him to stop.

I was shocked by what I saw.

This boy was not begging for my attention to tell me I was guapa or su reina. No. There was something wrong with this boy.

His entire face was gone. Just gone. It was morphed into a black hole of nothing. It appalled me. It scared me. He didn't want to annoy me; he wanted my help.

The guilt I felt in that moment was real and pure guilt, stronger than I had ever felt in my life. I could not believe that I ignored this hurting young boy for such silly reasons -- being in such a rush and immediately stereotyping this person I didn't know before I even took a moment to look at him.

I woke up to the intense guilty feeling. My heart was beating a million miles a  minute and I was sweating. Even though it was a dream, I could not forgive myself for being foolish and ignorant.



From that moment forward, I decided I would try my hardest to never ignore someone in need. Even though my life would become busier and less energy-efficient and totally different, I would always remember the lesson that dream taught me.




In America, I can waste water to my pleasing. I can drive a car. I can go to college.

The fact is that I can enjoy these things while many of my sisters and brothers throughout my country and my world cannot. Should I feel guilty because of this blatant inequality? Is there anything I can do to ease the guilt I sometimes feel due to it?

I am still figuring out the answer to those questions for myself. I honestly don't know if feeling guilty is an appropriate response to the obvious injustice I see everywhere. I honestly don't know if feeling guilty leads to any improvement of anyone's situation. I honestly don't know what I can do to better this inequality yet.

But, for now, I do know that I can open my eyes and stop ignoring the people around me in need. While I may not have a big picture solution to the unfairness yet, I can make a difference to one person for one moment and it does make a difference. I can buy a meal for the homeless person I see on my drive to work. I can offer a kind word to a stranger who seems to be having a bad day. I can offer a helping hand and a willing heart to a friend in need. I can offer my time and talents to a local charity. There are a lot of things I can do to make the world a better place today, and the first step is opening my eyes to the boy with no face who is asking for my help.





edit: "Not All Passports are Created Equal"

Sunday, May 4, 2014

hot Puerto Quito days.


Today I am homesick for Ecuador.


I miss hot Puerto Quito days..



I even miss the day-to-day normal parts of just walking through town..




I miss green jungle in the background of every photo..





I miss having a little oasis five minutes away..



I miss the food..




I miss porch-sitting in this exact spot with my best friend, Betty..


Wednesday, April 30, 2014

ER Stories 8: Burnt Skin


[Entry from my journal on Wednesday, February 6, 2013]
[Only the first picture is mine. All other pictures included in this post are ones I found on the internet from patients with similar cases.]


Patronato was really busy in the morning. I did a lot! Lots of patients, a few shots and a really interesting emergency:


Denise (coworker) and Chanmi (Global Citizen Year 2014) in the office/waiting room of Patronato


Denise and I exchanged a funny look when we heard odd squealing from outside. We thought it may have been an injured dog. A few seconds later, a very frantic set of parents rushed into the clinic, carrying the source of the squealing -- a little boy.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

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.



Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Honey, I'm hoome!

And tired.

Pase un lindo, bonito y chevere tiempo en mi quierido Ecuador. MUCHISIMOS GRACIAS a todos que abrieron sus casas para mi.

Aquí estan algunas de los fotos:






Thursday, May 30, 2013

Ecuador Archives: Puerto Quito


Just a few photos with no particular significance, except that they are of my favorite place in the whole world.






(my fake & beloved Ray-Bans)


Next on my Ecuadorian adventures: Porch Sitting & my Best Friend Betty.
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