After Bar

Well, after one complete week in Ecuador I must say it has been one of the most exhilirating and frustrating weeks of my entire life. I know that I can´t expect to master much Spanish with the few skills I have, but it is very difficult to attach myself to this place when the language barrier continually gets the best of me. I am really struggling with my intensive Spanish class, but I accept the challenge for what it´s worth.

These past few days have been relatively uneventful. Wednesday we started classes. At the moment, we only have tow, terrestrial ecology from nine to noon and Spanish from two to five. I get home around six, eat dinner, chat with Veronica and Maria Clara and then read and study Spanish. Perhaps my most unbelieveable experience this week was running into Melina, my fellow former lifeguard/Galesvillian outside the bookstore on the USFQ campus. Small world?? Crazy that we should cross paths. I continue to be surprised by what I encounter down here.

Another uplifting moment in my frustrating week happened just a few minutes ago. Twelve of the 13 in our program met up for dinner and drinks in the forbidden La Mariscal Sucre neighborhood. Over out luxuriously long lunch break this afternoon Steve suggested Zócalo, a Mexican restauratn. Lonely Planet gave it a thumbs up, so why not give it a shot? Since our meeting time was after dark the only safe and sure way to get there was to take taxis. I was hoping to catch a cab with Christa, Colleen and Steve, but my host mom is sick and I didn´t want to wak her to ask to use the phone. Maria Clara wasn´t home either. Feeling defeated by my cell phone-less existence I resigned myself to a Friday night in with my books. In a moment of strengh Veronica came into my room and said she was very soory that she was sick and if I needed anything, just ask. So I asked to use the phone. First I called Christa´s house because land line to cell phone is very expensive. No answer. So I called again and again but to no use. FInally I got up the nerve to try to call a cab myself. Here is the conversation,
Taxi Co: (rapid Spanish I couldn´t understand)
Me: ¿Esta Jota-Jota?
Taxi Co: Sí
Me: Yo necesito un taxi alas siete.
Taxi Co: (more rapid Spanish I couldn´t understand)
Me: Lo siento, no entiendo. Mas despacio porfavor.
Taxi Co: CLICK
Me: Almost in tears/break point

Okay wo what to do now. I can´t get a cab. Luckily I looked at my phone number list one more time and saw that I also had Steve´s home number. So I called it up talked to Steve and in a few minutes a cab with Christa, Colleen and Steve picked me up. Together to we continued on to La Mariscal.

We saw a sign for Zòcalo and told the driver to stop. He tried to say no, it´s three more blocks. We got out anyway, went inside and got a table. Where was everyone else? We were nearly 30 minutes late after all. A few minutes after ordering drinks Colleen got a call from Liz,¨Hey we´re here.¨ Wait, what? Turns out, there are 2 Zócalos, only 4 blocks apart. So we drained our drinks and went to Zócalo #2 of the evening. After food and drinks we ventured across the street to No Bar. Ther was dancing but after awhile people wanted to switch it up. I knew of couple of gals wanted to go home and I myself didn´t want to get in too late becasue I knew the dogs would wake the whole house. So I told Sheena and Kola I would grab a cab with them. After some total group discussion over how to get us three non-Spanish speakers a cab, we went for it. Being gringas it was easy to flag a cab down, but the first one thught we wanted six of us in one car. So we separated into two groups. It was more or less up to me to get a cab for me, Sheena and Kola. What can I say but SUCCESS! I told the driver that we all had to go to different palces and even negotiated a price lower then his original suggestion. We were still ripped off some but I just want to get off the street and on my way home. I feel pretty good though using Spanish, getting a cab, and getting home safe and sound! ¡Que bueno!