Sumak!

I returned from our trip to Baños to find several emails a Facebook message or two demanding a long-overdue blog update. I now have pictures to post from both Cuenca and Baños, in addition to general updates about my classes, community service, friends, and host family (spoiler alert: I love them all).

Instead, I am going to write about a completely different subject. (Don't worry, the rest will come.) One of my favorite parts of travelling are the characters who make a brief appearance in my life and a somewhat longer stay in my imagination. I met three such characters on our trip to Baños.

1. Family from Otavalo:

Our first morning in Baños we woke up early (7:00 AM!) for a dip in the famous aguas thermales. As it turns out, we would need a lot of encouragement from the locals (some of us more than others) to make our way into the steaming water of the hot pool and then out into a freezing shower piped directly from the nearby cascadas. Apparently this is good for the circulation. In combination with our 12 mile bike ride and hike up thousands of stairs to a statue of La Virgen, I must have improved my cardiovascular health tenfold. (Unfortunately, these improvements are probably canceled out by the lure of fresh bread and happy pancake hour – oh happy pancake hour!). Whenever I have to do anything physically demanding here, my mind always goes directly to what Mrs. Weaver (a teacher at my former elementary school) told me when she heard Quito is located at an altitude of about 9,000 feet: “You’re going to be building so many red blood cells!” It is my mantra, particularly when my knee is aching and my lungs are about to burst: “SO... MANY... RED... BLOOD... CELLS...” Incidentally, I have rediscovered (or perhaps newly discovered) a love for being covered in sweat and sunscreen and dirt and rain. There is something deeply satisfying about being grimy and tired. After our hike in Las Cajas (an adventure I have yet to recount to most of you) I resolved to spend more time in that state. That said, there is also something deeply satisfying about complaining loudly about being grimy and tired with the group. And something deeply satisfying about taking a shower after being grimy and tired. Maybe it has to do with the overall deeply satisfying sensation of being in Ecuador.

To return to the subject at hand: after the hot-cold shock to our systems, we spent a few hours floating in the larger, lukewarm pool of mineral water. While there, I overheard a group of people speaking Kichwa. I turned to Jonathan, whose command of the language is already infinitely better than mine, with an enthusiastic: “Go say hi!” He refused, so I had to take matters into my own hands. I approached the one who seemed closest to my own age and launched with a rapid-fire: “¿Hablas Kichwa? Ñuka shutika Palomami kan.” His response? “Chevere” of course. I made a few mistakes, but overall did well, especially when it came to my age. After literally hours of practice, this is the one thing I can say almost perfectly: “Ñukaka ISHKAY CHUNKA SHUK watata charini!” He was so impressed that he made me repeat it to his entire family.

My favorite part of the conversation, all conducted while drifting through the mineral water, was when he asked where I was studying the language. I mentioned Jumandi and his younger brother’s ears perked up. “You know Jumandi? He’s famous!” However he declined to tell me and Jonathan (who by this point had made his way over) exactly why Jumandi is famous in Otavalo, leading us to believe that he may in fact be infamous. (For those of you who don’t yet know, Jumandi is our Kichwa professor. He’s 23 and began the first class with chankar, a term similar to spooning that is a particular favorite among virtually all ecuatorianos.) Over the course of an hour, we learned that our new friend (also ichkay chunka shuk) works as a mechanic in Spain, where he lives with his wife – a fellow ecuatoriana whom he met while studying in Madrid. We also learned that he can hold his breath under water for 1 minute and 19 seconds, an impressive feat. I came in second with 49 seconds, way ahead of all the other gringos. Being tired and hungry and pruning from overexposure to the water, I was bordering on grouchy, a rare thing here. The competition, silly but fun, snapped me right out of my impending bad mood. Thanks, Otavaleño guy whose name I never quite caught!

Side note: As I’m typing this, I’m starting another cup of instant coffee. My host mother has just announced that I’ve officially cleaned out the supply that they’ve had for years. She is considering learning how to make real coffee (here called pasada, filtrada, o esencia) because instant just doesn’t seem to satisfy my caffeine addiction. I'm not sure how to feel about this.

I have ton of homework left to do (or rather start), so for the moment I’m going to leave you all hanging in regards to the other two Baños characters: Paxton from Kentucky and José the fire juggler. To be continued!

P.S. The title of this post, sumak, is the Kichwa version of chevere. If you haven't already memorized the meaning of chevere (cool, awesome, neat) please do so now because I am going to be using it for the rest of my life.