Monday 2/9

· The first day of classes went pretty smoothly (probably because it was all review). After class we went downtown to do some shopping, then I took the bus home all by my lonesome. After a little backtracking, I finally got there.

· After lunch we went to La Fundación, a mini-hospital ministry. This week I’m in surgery, but today I was relegated to sorting gauze. Since we were working in the emergency room, we got to see a guy’s lower abdominal hernias drained of 20 mL of blood, which was pretty cool. We also watched a little old lady with diabetes get her stomach palpitated. At least I got to take her blood pressure.Hopefully tomorrow we’ll see some blood and guts.

· After a brief meeting at the church to choose our ministries, we went home. I might get to teach a taekwondo class, which has me pumped!

· I spent some time talking with my family, then we had family devotions. Guess whose turn it was . . . Yeah, reading a whole chapter of Proverbs aloud in Spanish is every bit as difficult as it appears.

Tuesday 2/10

· Another day of physiology and La Fundación. Alas, no blood and guts. Today at the clinic we did the very important work of rolling cotton balls. I hope they don’t use those in any way shape or form in which they actually touch human flesh, because I definitely made them with bus hands.

· On the way home I affirmed my great talent of getting “un-lost”. My delayed arrival had my mom worried for her lil’ white girl. I recommended that next time she just roam the streets screaming, “DONDE ESTÁ MI GRINGA?!?” Over lunch I enraptured Mama Velez with the concept of fudge. In the afternoon we had 3 hours of Spanish class, which I enjoyed for the most part, but now I’ll never be able to keep up with my personal dictionary.

· Tonight we went to a service at church run by the youth. I was really digging all the music, especially Hillsong. Let me tell you, nothing makes a gringa feel welcome like staring at her as if she were a grotesque coat rack (which is how I felt, although, I kind of like being able to literally “look down” on everyone).

Wednesday 2/11

· Cultural tidbits:

o the stages of Ecuadorian dating are as follows:

§ Enamorados (any stage of love until she has a ring on her finger. Includes dating).

§ Novios (engaged)

§ Casado (married

o When gesturing someone’s height, put your hand palm out, not down. Down is for animals.

o Calling someone skinny or a fatty is acceptable.

· After all of us completed our third day of training for the speed writing Olympics, (i.e. physiology class,) our prof consented to copy his power points for us. Hallelujah.

· After class I took the bus by myself to La Fundación, which meant I went into intensive training for getting unlost. I swear, I was watching every stop, looking for mine, but somehow I missed it. By the time I realized this, I didn’t want to de-bus, because I’d have to walk a whole bunch. I figured the bus ran a route, so I’d just ride it until we came around to my stop again. Yeah, that’s didn’t work out so well when the bus came to a stop at the top of a small mountain and the bus driver told me to get off of his bus. The astute driver inferred from my confused and forlorn expression that I was lost, and graciously allowed me to re-bus. He also told me when to get off this time around. No worries; I was only an hour late, which I wouldn’t have minded, except for what my partner, Leigh, told me. Apparently we were supposed to watch a brain surgery, but I wasn’t there and she couldn’t stomach it. She was ready to pass out because of what she’d see. I wanted to pass out because of what I’d missed.

· We spent the afternoon rolling pads of gauze and cleaning surgical tools. Even though I put forth my best effort, somehow I don’t feel like something I washed in a normal sink with detergent, that was touched by unwashed hands, and set on a table should be put in someone’s flesh. Nevertheless, we wrapped the kits up and they got the “sterile” stamp of approval. Remind me not to require surgery on this trip . . .

· Yesterday I asked around to see when the next surgeries were, and the docs said I could stay late today, which I did, all by my lonesome.

· SO- WORTH- IT.

· I sat in on a brain surgery. Like, I was standing next to the patient, snapping pics and taking video. They drilled into her skull and made an incision in her abdomen, just under the ribs. They took a thin metal pipe and shoved it under her ribs, through which they fed a small, hollow tube. The tube was fed, length by length, up her neck, around to the back of her head where it could alleviate pressure. Fluid ran through the tube from her skull to the peritoneum. Throughout this process, I was aided in understanding and optimum camera angles by my new friend, Luis (no, I did not make this name up). He’s a fourth year med student, and he did some of the menial tasks in surgery, such as adjusting the light and fetching gauze. I played the very important role of identifying the labels on the gauze they were considering using. Without my help they would have never known how to distinguish the type from the company of origin. (yes, they did actually pause in surgery to have me read the gauze package).

· Who knew surgeons really do make off- color jokes and talk about lunch during surgery? One of them had his cell in there and one of the assistants was taking calls for him.

· I have not only perfected the art of getting “unlost”, I shaved some minutes off of my time. On the plus side, I’ve seen a lot of the city where I otherwise would have no reason to be there.

· When I finally got home, we went on a family walk with Bruno down by the river, where we passed a trio of midgets, which gave me the giggles. Mama Marcela reminisced of her childhood, in which she enjoyed Little House on the Prairie, Lassie, and Seventh Heaven. Thankfully she wasn’t crushed when I broke it to her that the real Lassie was replaced several times, and she even gave me a cute lil’ necklace with sunflower beads. I must be the best gringa she’s ever had!

Thursday 2/12

· While we were waiting for the bus after physiology class, I was violated. It was illegal; it was dirty, and I’ll never be the same. You see, I was personally assaulted- with water balloons. This car full of guys drove past with them, and I got nailed. My whole front was soaked (pre-Carnival celebrations are illegal, fyi). I found it all pretty funny, until I was freezing, (or as they say, achachi,) for 3 hours. After a short devotional, “Thursdays with Gustavo”, at the church I took the bus home. It took so freaking long that I basically got home, ate, then went back to the bus stop. This is all over the course of 3 hours.

· Today I skipped un-lost practice in favor of actually getting to where I’m going, and I did it all by my lonesome. Go me.

· After 3 hours of Spanish class in the afternoon, I’m ready for my brain to go on autopilot. I’ve found that I’m super ok with chatting it up with whatever Ecuadorian I happen to be near, i.e. tonight it was our van driver, but I’m still on the quiet side with the gringos. Go figure.

· Today I saw a kid juggling machetes in the street. I think that and Carnival are customs that we should adopt.