Lessons from Ecuador—Part I

When I took a summer job working for a student travel company never did I imagine living without hot water, sleeping on the floor with only a plastic liner protecting me from the deathly black mold below, constantly collect feces samples to see who had what fungus ripping their digestive tract apart and only being able to talk to the love of my life weekly. They were some of the most challenging days of my life. This wasn’t what I had signed up for, was it? They were also some of the most rewarding, most beautiful and most impactful. It was a life changing experience to say the least and I’ve always carried the lessons I learned from my time in that small, beautiful Ecuadorian village close to my heart. 

I hope you’re asking yourself why twenty-five students, two other leaders and myself were in this dire situation to begin with because it’s a darn good question. We arrived in Ecuador happy as could be, ready for a month of volunteering, learning Spanish and cultural immersion. We were off to a tiny, agricultural village high in the Andes Mountains. Yes!!!!! What were didn’t know was that the home former students had stayed in for the past ten years had been bulldozed to the ground a week earlier. You see, the government repossessed the land the humble house stood on to expand the single lane highway that ran through the village; no notice, no call…just knocked it down. So, when we arrived, I was greeted by my soon-to-be-new Ecuadorian madre, María and a pile of rubble. We made a plan (that included pretending that this was the original plan so that the students didn’t freak out; they had signed up for a rough and tough experience, no?) and settled ourselves into a barn like structure with no beds, no bathrooms and no heat. Let the fun begin! Like I said, it was hard, but like I also said it was rewarding, beautiful and impactful. 

Adiós casa

Right now, the world is a mess, our lives have been halted and things are tough. When I find myself in a difficult situation, I often whip out my smartphone, pull up a picture of María and give myself a good dose of perspective. Seeing her smile is a steadfast reminder that there is joy in every moment, even the impossibly difficult ones. In light of our current new normal, I thought I would share with you some of the lessons I learned in Ecuador in hopes they help you get through these loco times with more smiles than tears. Today I share with you the first of three important lessons. 

Lesson 1: You can laugh as you peel potatoes all day long

María and her amiga Teresa would show up at our “house” well before sunrise and leave hours after sunset. They were our madres and helped keep us feed and watered, no small feat I might add especially when you’re dealing with over a dozen and a half teenage boys that under normal circumstances would be hard to keep full, never mind attempting this at 10,000 feet where they burn calories faster than they can consume them. María and Teresa often spent the daylight hours perched atop flipped over buckets peeling potatoes. They expertly passed their knives without ever looking down, laughing and chatting and laughing some more, calling whoever passed by into the makeshift kitchen, check in on them, seeing if they had any special requests for lunch, sincerely asking them how their day was going and inquiring if they were finally getting used to the constant mooing of cows that acted as nature’s alarm clock. They were just so darn happy doing, well, nothing all day long. I mean, I know that they weren’t literally doing nothing, but the mundane task of peeling potatoes for twenty-five people plus themselves and their families plus a few extras just in case any of the villagers stopped by, didn’t bother them in the slightest. In fact, barely anything seemed to bother them despite living in quite harsh, difficult conditions. 

When the students were off volunteering at their various outposts, I found myself looking forward to sitting with María and Teresa as they slowly and steadily prepared our meals. At home, partaking in such “nothingness” stresses me out (surely there are a million other things that my time would be better spent doing), but in that tiny village where life was slow and my hours were best spent helping prepare dinner for the masses, I felt zero stress dedicating hours after hours to potatoes or carrots or whatever that night’s menu called for. And when the potatoes were finally peeled and quartered and thrown into water that took hours to boil at such a high altitude, we would start on the laundry that yes, you guess it, we washed by hand. I remember when I took my first shot at it María couldn’t stop laughing. She had never seen someone wash an article of clothing so ineffectively before. How could I possible think that my underwear was clean? She showed me, smiling as usual, the proper technique that quite honestly even after weeks of practice I never mastered. What I did master was laughing right alongside her, washing clothes with freezing cold mountain water by hand, happier than ever. 

Embracing your new normal

Times are tough right now. There’s no denying it. Times were tough during my stay in Ecuador, there’s no denying that. While I never got used to the cold outdoor showers high in the frigid Andes Mountain air (who would?), I did get used to peeling potatoes and washing clothes by hand and tending to the wood fire that constantly boiled water so that we could drink and brush our teeth without getting explosive you know what. I got used to my new normal and truth be told, there are certain parts of my Ecuadorian life that I actual miss. If María taught me anything it is that there is always joy, laughter and love to be found, no matter what your normal might look like. 

We’ve had some time to settle into our new normal and my challenge for you today is to somehow embrace it. It doesn’t have to be a full on bearhug at first, but try and see your corona glass as half full. This can be tough if you’re without work, struggling to pay bills, or homeschooling even though you don’t know a thing about algebra. This can be tough if you have a newborn that no one can help with, who has only been held by you and your partner and is behind on his vaccines (I’m speaking from the heart here; my little guy is four months!). This can be tough if you haven’t seen your grandma in months or if devastatingly this virus has claimed the life of someone you love. I’ll say it again: times are undeniably tough. But I promise you there is joy, laughter and love somewhere buried beneath the stress, anxiety, sadness and fear. Your new normal probably doesn’t involve a sack of potatoes and a paring knife (I never got a clear answer as to why they don’t just use a vegetable peeler), but no matter what it looks like, see if you can find a way to cherish this time and slower lifestyle; you just might miss it when it’s gone…

I will be posting lesson 2 shortly, but first I wanted to give you some time to reflect on this first lesson and let it really sink in. And if you’re interested in other travel stories, you can read about how a trip to Italy taught me all about the power of pesto. Please let me know what this pandemic has taught you by leaving a comment below. We are all in this together. Hasta pronto!