God wanted all people to live happily hot showered. That has fortunately been my lot good number of times. I am performing my responsibilities as well.. lets be honest ‘errand boy’ which means lots of free time alone in cities. Puyo, Banos, Quito… at least I can work out in the hostal rooms, access internet and take a hot shower. The jungle is great.

But seriously. I love it out in ‘the bush’. The sound of all the crickets, birds, beetles, bats, monkeys… every thing chirping and making sound. When the sky is clear, which is almost never due to constant rain (hence the name “rain forrest”)… is so piercing. I’ve discovered stars and looked at formations I don’t believe I ever have seen before, or could have seen in the towering skylines of North American cities.

So I have my machete at MUSAP, the jungle base. The first night I brought it in it became very handy. I took the engineers, who I was sent to pick up, a tour of where the bathroom facilities are (note: they are still shitty outhouses). One of the ladies, Rebecca, went inside and was like “oh, there’s a little spider in here…” I, in all my arachnophobia, peeked in and was like. I don’t see any th… “hollyy get the hell out of there, that’s the biggest spider I’ve seen in Ecuador!” So Laura took my machete, womaned up because I was half frozen, and killed an 8 inch in diameter tarantula which looked up at her and wiggled its legs and said “please ma’am you wouldn’t kill me would you?”. Off to the banquet of the ants with you!

I am actually quite disheartened here. I enjoy the jungle in its antithesis of scrolling marquees and giant TV screens (though the Coca Cola signs at 40km on a road in the jungle certainly press upon me how corporations really do rule the world), but feel a lack of inclusion with this team. I am not going to be able to work on the documentary I want, but am instead relegated to promotional video propaganda boy. At least I am having fun working with the engineers and doing some construction, cement spackling on building the water tanks that we are doing for the Shuar communities.

We meet many interesting people. I was at the hospital late last night, we thought one of our crew might have malaria, turns out just an ear infection. We met a “medical missionary”, an American doctor that was full of good gentleness. I his own words “I’ve been living in Ecuador with my wife for 3 years, we make a lot less money and are a lot happier.”

We’ve also run into a few indigeous people who are interested in the project. Yesterday on a bus that was so packed it had 15 people riding on top (we were not among the top riders mom, chill outhellip; though we were being smooshed inside) a man from CONFENAIE (an indigenous rights political organization) sent very bad vibes to both Karis (who I was accompanying with to the hospital with the student due to the pitch darkness of the situation) and I. He brought up a lot of ideas that I am vaguely or very familiar with: previous consent of drawing up accords with indigenous communities before going into them, about autonomy over natural resources, etc.. All important concepts. Yet one thing that has to be taken into account is that there are many indigenous groups, and all of them want to be the ones in which you have these agreements of previous consent, who watch out for certain communities. To put it simply… the groups are fractured and rarely work together. While there is something to say for political diversity and choices… when you take thousands of indigenous communities spread out all over vast and not well connected (by road or phone perhaps, but certainly by spirit and nature) and present one organization over the other to “watch over them” it is like fighting over a kind of sovereignty for these communities. At the same time, most communities do not simply have enough knowledge, resources or ability to serve to impose their own autonomy… it is such a struggle and battle first theoretically to define what is autonomy and second in the practice of all of these groups trying to define it and put their policies into place. The praxis of the two makes a foreigner like myself completely confused as to whom to trust, and the indigenous peoples are already mistrusting of us. This cause a delicate situation that makes me even more resolved that a bunch of gringo students don’t belong here in the capacity that we are.

Well, im off to find some food, give some loved ones a holla’ and back on a 2 hour bus to the roadside jungle ill climb up into and slide around for another week or so.

Here are some pix of the project some other people have taken. I really need to fix my blog so i can upload pictures n what not.. though i dont really have too many. im in a couple of them, on a long hike: http://picasaweb.google.com/DayVidR/EcuadorSummer2007Jackie

Especially because after living in this city for like more than 6 months, its just kind of.. overbearing yet easily manageable. Being 2 miles high in the Andean mountains makes for pretty scenery – when I can actually look up. Most of the time im trying to avoid hitting other things/people or being hit by cars/bikes/people. The sidewalks are a skateboarders nightmare. The sun is harsh, and with the altitude, one tires quickly when walking.

The constant contradictions of Quito and Ecuador moreover no longer fascinate me as make me resilient in that I don’t belong here… but I belong working in the poor communities in my own countries. I very much hate gringo landia, the part of the city that I am in now… which is sort of midtown.

The landscape is a sprawling 25 mile city with the rich mansion gated communities in the far north, nice malls with every thing American and with plenty of little shops and pockets of poverty in the middle, and continuing to the old city center where from here on out it just gets worse and worse.

Though Gringolandia… with its overpriced shops, non stop nightclubs and drinking would at first seem like a great time. But all the shady people and shit going on (I went out for 30 mins tonight and was approached to buy a prostitute once and cocaine twice).. I have a feeling some of my frat brothers would call this “living the life” – because its all cheap too. Last night some drunkards crashed onto the sidewalk nearby and hit some people. Yeah, the life…

Though what does seem to fascinate me.. or at least give me a sense of time and passage as if when I left there was a pause and I am back and it is all the same. The same burger flippers at my favorite burger stand. The same dudes working the internet/telefone booth place I frequented, the same KFC Ecuadorian style all over… the same elder man selling Ecuadorian flags calling out “Eccc-uuaaa-dooor” in a trite, very unique sort of way.

And yet all I am is missing home, wanting to find a job, learn music, go dancing, feel the rays of my California and prepare myself for many other important things in life.

Atleast while I’m feeling like a tourist, I got some hella cool gifts for brothers, lovers, mamas and myself. I like the arts ad crafts market here in Quito.

As for the reason I am here: a project with the Shuar Health Project.. I feel alienated and out of the communication loop. Wersquo;ll see how the next 10 days gohellip; tomorrow morning I take a 7-8 hour bus ride to Puyo and then to the MUSAP homebase in the middle of nowhere Amazoniahellip; at least life there is more tranquil and I am surrounded by beauty in both sound and sight.

And one good bit of news: at least I don’t have diarrhea anymore. O_o

Good idea: Bringing baby wipes along because there is no toilet paper.

Bad idea: Wiping yourself with a baby because there is no toilet paper.

And where did my particular baby wipes come from? Indeed, my mama!

Musap, the “observation station” that the Berkeley team I am with has its home base is just a house on a farm.. it is not so much a scientific station as it is a family’s attempt to create extra space and rent it out. The kids are pretty cute, and the bugs don’t bite too hard.

We went on a 5 hour hike through the bush… through a path down to a river basin that is a good 5kms down through red clay deep skin purifying mud and constant greenery, insects, humidity and of course giant spiders and their immaculate webs. As I have little time and the readers really have little interest in reading about my experiences climbing through the forrest, the highlights include: watching people fall their asses down in thick mud and waterfalls, scaring the shit out of the newbs with threats of piranhas and making a spear with my walking stick, which kept me from being one of the peeps falling down. And damn it feels to be so completely covered with dirt and water and not be able to take a warm hot shower and drink a nice cool beer, right? Heellll no.

So, since I need to come to Tena, another jungle city 50 kms away that took me 5 hours to get to and let me get in my “pushing truck stuck in the middle of the road rubble mud” skills to work. The added benefit: the family here is great and takes care of me. I had some catching up to do with them and we did so over a midnight dinner and some cerveza pilsners.

More beer notes: when Ecuadorians drink beer, they always order the big ass bottles and pour into small glasses. Its really deceptive how much you can drink in one setting. Luckily my companero, the son of the family, Maximito, who reminds me of dominic and my cousin Danny gave me some awesome news: hes getting married and has a baby on the way. And he has a sony Erickson EXACTLY like Emy and Cody’s. holly shit it is just providence that I must get this fone and change to Cingular.

Any how, went mountain biking and dove head first into a creek/pond because I lost my balance in carrying my bike across a beam that was about 4 inches long with the current pushing at my feet. but you all know you’d wanna mountain bike along jungle river paths, so its worth the scratches, bruises and painstaking time drying my passport, international medical card and money and other stuff I knew I shouldn’t have had with me (Dad, buy my travel insurance eh?). Don’t worry for interested parties: Mr. Bear and his headdress was not wetted at all.

I so miss bubble tea, a proper gym (theres here in Tena, Maximito and I went but it f*****up my gloves with all the rust)…. and um… my mom’s chit chatty voice.. and what else… looking for a job. Im so going to be broke when I come back.

Off to Quito at 6:30 in the morning to do some documentary planning and pick up some crew members from the aeropuerto.

So I begin again, after a year of shunning this silly blogging spacehellip; to record some thoughts, share some memories, and declare my love for squishy little slugs that taste like buttery goodness when fried.

I will miss many of you back in mi patria, my homeland. You know who you are and if you donrsquo;t then yoursquo;ve got some good stuff in your pipe.

So I feel quite ungraduated from THE BEST MOTHA####IN University in the world, and strangely homeless. Yet my memory of Quito and its streets is impressive to me ::flexes geography brain:: and my little stuffed bear from a certain brownie extra terrestrial keeps me company along with my two knives i wear strapped and a pendent or two for safety.

Irsquo;m here to be a sort of transportation, communication and media person SLASH film a documentary (status: ahhhh shittteee).. as part of a team with the Cal Undergrad Public Health Coalition. Wersquo;re here to do water sanitation projects in various indigenous communities. For those who want more info: http://bigideas.berkeley.edu/node/44

On to more interesting things: beer.

I drank a couple cerveza nacional lsquo;Pilsnerrsquo;s last night. I must say, I think $1 for 22fl oz is a good deal. Tao chicken, one of my KDR bros, would blow a gasket.. its like 44oz heaven for only $2. This beer, pilsner, goes best with anything other than by itself, even cigarrettes make a good companion to wash down the tasty tastelessness. Dude I already miss favorites like Spaten, Pyramids, Becks, and even a mouth full of PBR would bring a little glee.

There was a 10km marathon down la calle Amazonas today. People were like panting and going full speed.. weak sauce? No. 2 miles of elevation makes it harder to breath. Irsquo;m just adjusting myselfhellip; it doesnt help with shitty smog. Though at least the place smells better than the Kappa Delta Rho kitchen (note to any bros reading this: please for god sakes through out that dead rat on the second floor).

more on beer, other intoxicants, black clouds (perhaps best listed as intoxicant), police officers with erectile dysfunction, papayas, mangos, and as always: latina heinas who ride in the back of lsquo;chivasrsquo; (big party trucks).

Time to go pickup the pledges.. erhellip; DeCal (read: observers who are liabilities) from the airport. Speaking of liabilities: Dad, buy my travel insurance BEFORE i get hit by a car. it will be more useful then.

Dilip!

House hunting has gone okhellip;. 10 places Irsquo;ve looked at so far, and think I struck gold last night. A good deal boarding at a frat househellip; on the surface it sounds a little risky, but the place was clean and prides itself on having the second highest GPA of all the fraternities. My room would be prorated during th summer, saving me $380 and I have a nice bay view and a deck to BBQ and relaxhellip;. hope I can get it.

Last night I went and saw a talk with Daniel Elsberg, famous for the ldquo;pentagon papersrdquo;, other speakers included former UK ambassador to Uzbekistan who was fired for ratting out the torture being supported by the CIA and MI6, and the former General who was in charge of the penatentaries in Iraq during Abu Grahib, who took the blame. The talk highlighted the human rights and war crimes violations the Bush administration has been going down since 9/11 with specific evidence in Uzbekistan and Iraq, and the U.S. with regards to the Patriot Act.

Other than that, I have just been readjusting, speaking spanish as much as I can when I come accross spanish speakers, hanging out with my buddy Sonny here and trying to not spend much moneyhellip;. yesterday we both got free pizzas.

Yep, the life of a hungry all consuming university student resumeshellip; Ecuador seems so far away, and I am finally starting to feel a sense of ldquo;normalcyrdquo; even though I donrsquo;t know if my mind and heart are quite in tune with this version of normalhellip;

Tomorrow, Lan Anh comes home so that means im heading to sac tonight so I can pick her up tomorrowhellip;. wooohooo!

Well, Lan Anh and I are back. She is, precisely, in Albuquerqie New Mexico, I am here in Berkeley, California. She is participating in the world youth JAM with #8220;youth for environmental sustainability#8221;. I am here in Berkeley feeling very unaccustomed#8230; missing Lan Anh a lot#8230; out of my place#8230; as my place for the last few months was Ecuador and Cuba. The words on the wall seems alien but somehow I understand it all. I was quite busy the last few weeks in Ecuador#8230; which is why I didnt update for the 20 days I did not. I suppose ill either update some thoughts, definately put pictures up#8230; in the next few weeks.

Ill be here for a few days#8230; going to stay with Sonny#8230;. and try to read and write a lot in spanish.

Today I have 2 appointments. one with my PEIS major councelor#8230; one to see an apartment. Ill also be working on my CV and resume to try to find a job#8230; thinking of my dad, who is going to see my grandfather in North Carolina..

America feels too big, too fast right now#8230; i got used to being surrounded by lations and now im giggling at seeing so many people who just look different to me. i guess i probably look like I fit in, but I dont feel like I do.

12 mosquito bites. And they bite hard here in the jungle. We have been here for a little over a week, and I have been keeping busy. Mostly just reading and working on the things I need to turn my time to when I go back to the U.S. in a 20 days. “El tiempo toca al fin” in english… the time is coming to an end here. It is hard to believe that 8 months have gone by. Including the time I was in Viet Nam, I’ve spent the last 9 months outside the U.S. I have felt homesick here and there, but I am glad to be here. I wouldn’t mind staying another month…. But duties call and I must answer.

Summer school for me it looks like. Plus I need a job. And a place to live in Berkeley. I need to beg one of the deans to stay another semester, or else either risk not graduating next spring or burning myself out with 22 units and a thesis (ANNNND A JOB) next fall. Well, trying not to let that put me too much in bad spirits. I’m happy continuing my studies of Spanish… and reading for pleasure. I am immersing myself into Ecuadorian politics through a book called “Un Pais Entrampado“ (An entrapped country) as well as going through Karl Polanyi’s Great Transformation again. And of course, I wouldn’t mind a few more adventures in Ecuador

So back to the mosquito bites. This past Sunday, Lan Anh and I went to another farm, more of a little cabin jungle resort than a farm though. We went with Bertha and Maximo, the owners of this place being friends of theirs.

In short, the experience has made me realize how I am such a “city boy”… the insects just bite so ferociously and I am always paranoid about the spiders… big and colorful some of them, but nonetheless give me fright. The forest seemed to both enclose around us and also at the same time felt quite open with the river sagacho flowing on the western face of the land we visited.

We ate heartily and healthy, a kind of chicken wrapped in a leaf that soaked up the natural flavor released by the leaf when cooking over the open fire… fried yucca… mini banana fried in flour called “niños envueltos” or “kids all wrapped up” as it sounds best, I feel, in English. Bertha taught Lan Anh how to swim a bit… it was great fun watching her kick and paddle in the current holding onto a rock. We plan to return to the farm next Sunday to learn how to make chocolate and coffee, which is one of the cultivations on the farm. This time I’m going to accept wearing some insect repellent…

The only other thing to report, though would be much better if I could get a picture of it, are the thunder and lightening storms that happen here a few times a week during the night. The day before last the shaking of the earth because of the thunder sounded like armaments being exploded over the town as if an invading force was bombarding its way through. Replete with windows shaking and the power going out after a boom that sent a shock of terror through my own spine. Never have felt frightened because of thunder and lightening here, but even the lightening is so powerful it lights up the entire sky and you can see it lance out as if a laser bolt aimed for you. Yeah, a picture would be much better.

Here is a link#8230;.

(or if that doesnt work)

http://www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~jedimike/cherryonchocolate/finca/

As well, I wrote an article (at Lan Anhs suggestion) about the events going on in Quito#8230;. submitted it to a few newspapers and news sites

Here it is:

The Last Round for Ecuador

http://www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~jedimike/cherryonchocolate/?page_id=48

This week has mostly been trying to live off of 50 cents for the first two days, spending our travel money on wednesday, hoping that I could withdraw $20 from the ATM here#8230; which thanks to all the forces who make technology possible and kept the Ecuador banking system chugging along another day further#8230; happened yesterday. Also, Lan Anh and I ate some good crabs that the hostel family invited us, and then drying some quite deliciou local chicken, salad and rice that completed the day of eating well.

I havn#8217;t had time to put together the gallery about going to Maximo#8217;s farm in the rain forest#8230; but perhaps ill find time during this week, in between the insane workload and sleepless days that are indeed coming ahead. Last night was sleepless#8230; was thinking too much.

Need to learn to be more patient. Calm. Thinking. Mature. Even as I type this, I shake my head and think #8220;why have I said this so many times yet still come back to the same words?#8221; I suppose molding the mind into a more refined work takes more time and energy. Now its easier to see my nakedness to life.

My mom has constantly had to put up with my know-it-all-ness. Yet one time being reminded, by my dad, sticke out in my mind. A while ago, years, when my dad and I were hiking through some montains, he kept telling me things, and I kept insisting.. #8220;yeah, I know dad#8221;. He calmly turned toward me, looking slightly annoyed but still patient (which is probably as hard for him sometimes as it is for me to be)#8230; and said, #8220;you know mike, you dont have to know every thing. its ok if you dont. just listen, you might hear something you dont.#8221; And he has, always been right. As has my mom, who on my day of departure for Ecuador some august day in 2005, as I left her arms, said to me #8220;Remember you don#8217;t know every thing. And don#8217;t trust any one.#8221; Well those words still echo in my mind. Yet for some reason now when I am most clear about the fact that I am still quite young and unknowing, unwise, is when I wish for it most.

Enjoying the heat today. And this experience in Ecuador.

Live from a computer terminal by the edge of the Amazon Rain forest#8230;. Michael.

Michael here.

First off, uploaded pictures regarding the protests and uproar in Tena a few weeks ago…. (see previous updates on Feb):

Tena, Ecuador protests in February

Carnival went on, and off… without much happening, except some people tossing water on Lan Anh and I while we were crossing the street. Our perceptions of carnival were a little different. Parades, masks, mischievousness opting for something hire than the goal of seeing wet white t-shirts. However, the importance of the festival and of many holidays I suppose, is not so much exactly what they are about but what they allow ordinary, often poor, Ecuadorians to enable themselves to change but for a few days the clock-work routine of life. Octavo Paz wrote about celebrations in Mexico;

“En ciertas fiestas desaperece la noción misma de orden. El caos regresa y reina la licencia. Todo se permite: Desaparecen las jerarquías habituales, las distinciones sociales, los sexos, las clases, los gremios. Los hombres se disfrazan de mujeres, los señores de esclavos, los pobres de ricos” (El libertino de la soledad, 1950).

(In certain celebrations, the same notion of order disappears. Chaos returns and licentiousness (excessiveness) reigns. Everything is permitted: habitual hierarchies disappear, social distinctions, the sexes, classes, memberships to organizations. Men disguise themselves as women, masters as slaves, poor as rich.)

My first thought when I saw this was to reject it out of hand. How can people subvert class, race, well hierarchies. They seem to be well defined, at least in the mentality, the inner pecking order that runs societies. Certainly bosses my get down and boggy at office parties. People might dress as men and women, but how does this something transcend these ever changing yet in day to day life seemingly concrete roles?

While I have to say I didn’t go to any of the actual “festival” events, though technically everyone is game, everyone is playing. I cannot recall or think of how gender roles were challenged during this festival in Tena, however a number of other things certainly were. For example, people were riding around on trucks, or just sitting from rooftops, wandering the streets with water dispensing capabilities, or with other objects or liquids to launch upon unsuspecting strangers or perhaps a well planned ambush on a till-death blood brother. Old women poking their heads out of windows, squirting away at little kids. People targeting foreigners, like myself, with pales of water. Alright, while this may not be the case, I venture that there is a stereotype, a personification that must hold some water that foreigners (gringos) have more money. Certainly many people live on a around $1 a day here. Yet unlike every day life, people don’t go around tossing water on gringos, who are clients to many businesses, yet during carnival, they become favored targets. As well, in “El Comerico”, in Quito, there was a small parade where many Quiteños dressed as indigenous people, dawning the garb and replete with spears. Whether these people were indigenous or not, whether they were more well-to-do or simply happened to have these uncommon items does not mater. The important part, to me, is that the parades participants were “putting the mask on” as indigenous people dressed long ago (with the exception of ceremonial wearing and some remaining tribes today, such as the Yanamoto indigenous is Venezuela-Brazil). That said, it is by far easy to say that indigenous people in Ecuador are certainly not in the upper-rungs of economic and social elitism and wealth. The personification of them, the taking on of their role, is one of these reigns of chaos, breakings of social norms.

And of course, during celebrations, the food and drink flow. The hostel was filled, mostly by Ecuadorians, including 2 families. One of the families had prepared a meal of titanic proportions (so much so that the leftovers fed them for 2 more meals and allowed Lan Anh, me, and the hostel family to have some dibs as well).

The punch line to the title: Lan Anh and I went to a farm yesterday and saw a pig being slaughtered and gutted. Yay.

March 4

Today there were no lights in all of Tena. No using of the blender, and especially irritating when its about 38 degrees (about 100 F) and humid… no fan. The electricity was cut off from last night around 3am until… now. Heat really makes people annoyed, ready to strike at the slightest infraction. So then, most of the day was spent laying around, reading and trying to “cool off” which was impossible. Except of course, for one of the amazing things about living in the rain forest.. which of course, is that it has a lot of rain. When it is on the dawn of raining, the clouds darken slightly, perhaps a breeze picks up and it sprinkles for maybe a minute or two. Then as if someone had unleashed Hades and Poseidon to do battle above us, the rain crashes down in a torment that within 2 minutes the streets are flooding, within 5 minutes there are miniscule rivers forming in the gutter and it is impossible to walk without becoming both soaked and slipping all over. But oh my god does it feel absolutely wonderful after such dogged hellish heat. That’s my spin on the weather here, an almost every day pattern. Just felt it more today because of the lack of a cooling device.

Went to the farm organized by Maximo on Thursday. The location is about 20 minutes from Tena proper, inside the veins of the jungle. Lan Anh took beautiful pictures which I will try to upload in the coming days with further elaborations. My main reflection of the farm, was that it felt good to get out of the town, to a little more untamed nature. To see people, their living that is something raw.. and sobering about the realities of existence for many thousands of people. No access to clean, tap water. Chronically wretched looking domiciles. A deep sigh and a re-realization dawns on me as to why I am here in Latin America, why I pursue the studies that I do. Yet clearly while these images impact my sensibilities and emotions I can still come back to a reflection upon what I am doing here. For the most part, it has been to still stay kept up in books, in a room, in front of a computer.

Maximo Sr., as he was driving by these indigenous communities said that… the natives, they live in these conditions because they are lazy, like many other Ecuadorians. They don’t want to work.. they only want the government to build sports fields. According to him, “all they like is to drink, play and make babies.” I am not in accordance with this line of thinking, but I do believe that stereotypes sometimes hold water, though the reasons certain conditions may exist may be left out from the end results themselves. When I have time to create the photojournal of the day, I will elaborate more.

Just finished making jam, strawberry jam. Was pretty easy. Lan Anh’s idea, we looked up a recipe on the net and just did it. I like the local markets here.. it feels sort of comfortable to walk to small different places to get what we need… the central grocer, the produce market, the butcher, the pharmacy.. all in different places and within walking distance.

Also, to my content, the produce market women don’t try to cheat us like they do in Quito when we went… the grocer and the pharmacist have tried to sneak a few cents here and there from us, but because I am… lets say frugal, others might say cheap… I have caught it.

Note: pictures coming soon

I am convinced in the genius of Jack Johnson. His music is brilliant, surpasses the predictable poetry of most pop and alternative genres that are released here. On top of this his cords, his guitar skills are really quite “boastable”. Johnson#8217;s uniqueness, to an untrained ear though an appreciative one like mine, is that of a rare band like Sublime. Not every song is a hit or one that strikes me well but the ones that do, put me into a tranquil reverie of thought. So that#8217;s that about what I am thinking right now, while working on the final touches of my report with Accion Ecologica.

So what happened with the strike/road blocks here in the Napo province and the protesting and military lockdown in Tena? Well, as I hypothesized, every thing was more or less settled and back to #8220;normal#8221; by Friday evening, just in time for Carnaval to begin. I#8217;ll touch on Carnaval in a moment. Briefly I want to try to regale the moment the chaos that ensued with the placing of Tena under military control.

The first thing to note, is that chaos… didn’t seem to happen. Well, not any more than already was. Thursday night a few hundred residents took back to the streets an hour before the 8pm curfew was to begin, with burning torches in their hand in a peaceful march expressing their rage against this measure by the Ecuadorian central government. At this rally, which I went along to again be an observer, with the owners of our hostel, among the fumes of burning gas and plastic and rags that triggered what might be described as mass nausea there was not a single police or military or authority. I asked the senora why this was so… that there are hundreds of angry people with torches and no police in sight. She said, “pues es mejor que no estan, te aseguro” (Its better they aren’t here, I assure you). Another shock of disbelief. In the U.S., the police come at least to make sure that if some loser starts to cause trouble, they can protect the crowd. However the sentiment here seems to be one of lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with things. I can’t say I blame them.

So after 8pm, when Lan Anh and I were in the hostel safe and sound expecting to see HUM-Vs and military columns marching by at any moment we were rather relieved to see not a single soldier. In fact, kids were still playing on the boardwalk in front of the hostel, teenagers still out cruising, the local “pincho” (shish-kabob) sellers still BBQing away. In summary then, no one respected or cared much about this whole military lockdown because they knew, just like almost every thing else in this country, “it aint gonna happen”. Just like the fact that the government isn’t going to give the province the money they were demanding. Just like how they never turned the lights and electricity off, though it certainly goes off enough by itself (power failures happen just about every 3 days, for a few hours or so).

Maximo, the husband of the Senora of the case (yeah I can’t remember her name), said that the “militarization” was mostly just a threat, a sort of vocal suppression to exert the superiority of the federal government in putting the other ones in their place. It was mostly against protestors in Baeza, a city 2 hours away, that was protesting and had some people trying to sabotage the oil pipeline and processing plant there.

And Maximo Jr., the next day, told me this whole strike business, while not so frequent, is really just another in many, and that most of the people were probably protesting simply as something to do. He gave me an example of when students where protesting having their student cards not usable for bus faire. Tena is so small, most people don’t take many buses around the city, yet students still decided to occupy one of the bridges to block passage in protest. He told me most of this protesting and violence that happens, he feels, is due to some deep frustration, but most of the people just go to protest for the sake of doing it. A little anarchy, rebellion.

People who were on the streets protesting after the central government responded by arresting about 4 mayors of different cantons/cities and the prefecta, and declared the military control, seemed to be protesting this measure, completely loosing site of the strike and original protests. They were calling for their leaders to be released from jail. It seems (perhaps like a lot of places) they are either calling for them to be in jail, or out.

A change of topic…

Friday night Lan At lost quite a bit of sleep, not because of this batty situation going on in town, but because of… well, a bat (har har). About 3am, Lan Anh yelled “turn on the lights” and I rushed out of my bed, flicked on the lights in time to see a bat (in Spanish, “murciélago”, in Kichwa “Tu ta pisch ka”) flying itself into our curtain. It climbed around the other side and came out again and flew above our fleeing heads as we stumbled out the door. We waited. And waited. And became highly annoyed. I was completely not going to enter a room with an Amazonian bat not knowing its species or if it has rabies, etc.. (you’ve heard of vampire bats? Guess where they live? Yep, here.). Well, being in my skimies didn’t make me feel any more confident either. So Lan Anh, being the braver of the two, peeked her head into the room, with a towel draped around it… and there was nothing. I finally came in and we began our search of the room, a little frightened and jumpy, with sheets wrapped around us and flashlights at the ready. Luckily it flew out the window… and we went back to sleep, though with the lights on. Well an hour or so later I turned off the lights and a few seconds later.. yep, we heard some scratching. Back to the lights, and there that huge 1 foot standing with a longer wingspan bat is climbing up from behind the nightstand, the only place we could not check very well. More waiting. But it decided, thankfully, to hop out of the door, right in front of us and flew off, probably more scared than us, in the other direction. What ugly things bats are, but interesting nonetheless.

This experience put me thinking about one a few weeks ago in Quito. I’ll premise it.

Q: What do a completely drunken wasted student and a fruit bat have in common? A: They both kept me from sleeping.

Yeah, long story short a drunk guy passed out on my window (its at ground level) at Marisol’s house in Quito and was spitting and snoring for 4 hours completely unmovable by the security guard.

So now we don’t sleep with the window open.

One super good note. While we are living off of about $20 a week, that is, living like the poor kids we are, we were still able to buy a chicken and Lan Anh made a delicious honey garlic marinade, cleaned and cut the chicken…. Oh the feeling of living in a rural town (only local markets, no super markets for a hundred miles). So at least we are eating pretty well.

Saturday, yesterday, began Carnival. A Latin American set of festivities, celebrated differently in all the countries it is celebrated, but with one general rule: try to get women soaking wet.

I went out dancing yesterday, with some friends of Maximo and his sister. It was.. as it always is. A sociological experiment. I must say, Latinas are attractive, but all of this makeup and superficiality just brings down any level of attraction by several points. Well I had a few beers, danced a bit, chatted… and ultimately got water thrown on me half the time I was in the discoteca (Dance hall). Today, as Lan Anh made our shopping rounds a truck full of maricones hijos de putas (not going to translate) through a bucket of water on us. As we have found out, this carnival… another 3 day break from work after a week long strike… is more proof of the insanely stupid traditions that I feel go on here. Not that there aren’t enough in the U.S. mind you. So they don’t have adequate healthcare or transportation but everyone is running around spraying every one with water guns and throwing concoctions of crap onto people and trying to get girls in bikinis wet. Yeah, I am really going to have to have my patience until Carnival ends on Wednesday.

The Latin American experience for me has been thus far.. well if any thing, an important one, one of having to have much patience. While I admit still, I loose this patience quite a bit, to be here, to see the craziness and the differences, to b learning Spanish has all been well worth it. Things like this carnival make me wonder about the stereotype that many people, many Ecuadorians, have told me that hey are lazy and will do any thing to avoid work. Certainly these holidays and strikes where every thing shuts down (except for the capitalists of course) have done nothing but reinforce this stereotype. Another thing that seems crazy is the violence that has been quite a part of Latin America’s past. We watched a movie a few days ago, a Chilean film, called “Machuca”. I am not going to summarize it, but only say that it was very good though quite sad and the last scenes of the film depicted the first days and weeks of the Pinochet dictatorship and militarization of the country. To imagine the thousands of desaparecidos (missing/kidnapped) from this era but to know it still exists in Colombia, indeed there are Colombian immigrants every where in Ecuador… just makes me feel a sense of dread. A terrible, unavoidable shiver.

I suppose that’s all for now. Just hope we can get through this carnival without being drenched with any thing… or at least any thing more than water, as people told us sometimes they throw blackened oil and pig feed and who knows what else on people, and foreigners are especially high-end targets. Shit.

Tena, Ecuador. The scene of a sizable protest today, the citizens taking to the streets against#8230;. well I#8217;m not exactly sure what they were marching about. What is clear, is that as of tonight, there will be complete marshal law, military lock down, of Tena and the other cities of this province.

I’ll try to relate as well as I can, what has been going on.

This last Thursday, on Feb. 16 Lan Anh went to a meeting of the municipality with her office, the Casa de la Mujer. She went their with her supervisor, to meet with other members of Tena’s department of “Human Development”. After she finished this meeting, she went with her supervisor and low and behold, ended up meeting the mayor of Tena, “Ing. Washington Varela”. The meeting they went to, was a provincial meeting, where the “Prefecta de la Provincia de Napo” (The “Governor” of the province/state of Napo) was presiding. Tena is the seat of government power for the Napo province. The meeting apparently was held to address several grievances that people, including many leaders of indigenous communities, were proclaiming. Lack of transportation, inadequate healthcare, those who live deeper within Napo, that is to say in the jungle or further away from Tena, are disassociated and forgotten.

Fast forward through the weekend, and Monday Lan Anh went to her office to be informed that the mayor had planned a city wide protest and that the province of Napo, other communities would also be protesting. What they were protesting against, we were not certain. Meanwhile, the Señora of the hostel informed us, and the 14 gringos who were staying the weekend here in Tena, that there was a “paro”, a strike or road block, of all of the transportation in and out of the Napo province and between cities and communities as well. OK, I thought, it’s Ecuador… this thing seems to happen like fog on the Bay: Often and sudden though always with an air of suspicion first. However what seemed really strange, was that the government was organizing this protest.

So, since Lan Anh decided not to join her companions on the government organized protest, we searched for an indigenous leader whom we were hoping to film for the documentary. Her name is Serafina Cerda, and she was one of the leaders of the local foundation of Indigenous Peoples. I bare the risk of over-generalizing with this following summary. Well, here goes. We came to her lovely house in a rural community about 20 minutes outside of Tena. She is a creator of traditional pottery, ceramics, jewelry and traditional dress. Her husband is a teacher, both of them are active in many projects ostensibly to raise the standards of living for indigenous people in Napo. Their house was quite well furnished, and when we filmed her yesterday, Tuesday… the perception I felt is that she was “performing” for the film… she wore traditional dress, beads, etc…in contrast to every day clothing, insisted on sitting on this leopard stool and holding this arcane pottery with hieroglyphics… she was presenting, one might venture to say, a stereotypical image of how “indigenous people” live. Well, while she had many good points during the interview, for the most part she repeated and rambled a lot. Moreover, at the end of all of this she and her brother essentially, in so many words, asked Lan Anh and I to pay them for the filming… “this is beneficial to you, perhaps you can help us with something beneficial to us.” We left, walking (due to the transportation strike there are no buses or taxis), feeling disappointed. I felt angry, actually. Deceived. As if we are just some gringos here to see more Indians dancing and all that and hey, don’t forget, you have to pay for the show. Again, perhaps I’ve gone to far. She, and especially her husband, were very nice people, and her husband came along the way when we were walking and gave us a ride.

Back to the rest of Monday.

The mayor-sponsored protest, which we caught part of (Tena is so small, there is really only one street suitable for a large body of people to walk), continued to the Napo government building. We watched footage on the T.V. of people storming in past the police, knocking the riot police over actually, and into a meeting hall where the prefect was held up. Outside, the mayor is calling for her (the prefecta) resignation and decrying the national government for not sending the promised money to repair the highways and roads of the province. What I am confused about is if the mayor was organizing the strike and the roadblocks or if this was a more organically planned event by another group.

Onward to Tuesday. We were filming for quite of the day, and kept out of the news. It turns out however, that the protests in the province turned violent, and 2 youth were shot and critically wounded, and another is in the hospital with his leg burned off because he was hit with a Molotov cocktail. Meanwhile, the national military has started to enter the province, including Tena, and we saw a truckload of military personnel riding into town yesterday. As well, baffling as hell to me, the military police have arrested and incarcerated both the Governor/prefecta and the mayor. It appears that the main quarrel was between the mayor, who wanted to have the strike before the festival that is supposed to take place this weekend, and the prefecta who wanted it after. The national military decided to arrest them because they could not find the culprits of the violence, so their logic is… arrest the government. Indeed?

This is the news we learned this morning as we watched the television with the family that manages the hostel. Meanwhile, President Alfredo Palacio has declared the province in a state of emergency (well he did order the governor under arrest, so technically no one is in charge). As well, the military has forbade any public gathering of people, any opening of governmental offices (meaning more “vacation” time for Lan Anh), or marches, etc..

So what do the people decide to do this morning at 10AM? To hold a city wide march against the national government. Moreover, the theme for the protest, or rather the glitter on the garb, are signs proclaiming “Somos Primativos” (We are primitives)… I asked Maximo Jr., the son of the family who is my age, the meaning of these signs. Apparently one of the editorials in the national daily “El Comercio” called the people of Napo “Primitive” so the people, as the Quiteños did last year, reclaimed the word. So this march not only is about provincial sovereignty, or getting funds promised from the national government, in a way it is also a backlash against haughty rhetoric, the feeling of being offended at being called backwards.

Lan Anh and I attended the protest in order to accompany the family, and to take pictures and of course to sniff around for whose curiosity could not be piqued in this type of mysterious turbulence that has sprung up?

The people streamed through the streets, waving Ecuadorian flags, chanting and yelling, wearing signs and waving others. They crossed the bridge and went to the airport, which other had set ablaze with burning tires and laid large stones on the runway, so that the military planes cannot land. Why do they not want the military planes to land? Well, because the President, the generals, have decided that as of tonight there is a curfew where no people can leave their homes or wander the streets on pain of arrest or being fired upon. Moreover, the military has said they are going to cut electricity and communications, which means that perhaps this will be my last message for a few days. We will make sure to respect the curfew, though hopefully nothing more heats up.

My analysis, and it is amateur and without experience surely, is that this will not last long. The military will suppress it, the will let the mayor and the prefecta out of prison by Friday, and the festival, which will bring tourists and business, will open on schedule by Saturday. The province will not get the money it is seeking, but they can always say “they tried” and things will go back to “normal”, if one can call the wheeling and dealing of this place normal. Well, every place has its norms and strikes and road barricades and unrest over promises long forgotten, seem to me at least to be one of those norms.

If I get a chance later, I will upload the photos Lan Anh took of the protest.

That’s all for now.

I am writing from the jungle “city” of Tena, Ecuador: population around 15,000. The first five days here in the fluctuating 85-100 degree Fahrenheit heat have been rough, as I have had some type of harsh cold that has given me a fever every night, except for the last. I can’t breath very deeply and I have a pretty irksome cough and the “sniffles”. The hostel Lan Anh and I are staying at “La Brisa del Rio” (The breee of the river) is all in all nice. The owners are very amiable and even gave me 2 or 3 different natural remedies that helped soothe my throat and bring down the fever. Lan Anh of course put up with my grumbling and complaining and pushed me out of my delirium and delirium laziness. And what may have finally done the trick the night before last and through the day is that I took the Ecuadorian version of “Nyquil” which really knocked me out, dried me up and took the fever down.

Any how, I am sure that this cold thing has 2 different culprits culminating together. Last week, when Lan Anh was in Tena, I worked to complete my report with Accion Ecologica, and two, it was my last week of teaching English classes and Andrew - my obtuse English boss- gave me 2 exams in the same week, no, in 2 days, to give to my classes. Of course these needed to be graded along with doing their final grades so all in all in combination with working on the what has turned out to be 35 page report for Accion, I slept shy of 20 hours for the whole week. I did still manage to cook and eat pretty well, except for one day… but all of this mixed with a 6 hours bus ride that takes you 150km from the cool Andean mountains to the edge of the Amazon rain forrest where it is sweltering… well my immune system was bound to suffer.

I suppose the fact that I haven’t written for over a month and a half, it is enough of an excuse to say that working 10-12 (or more) hours per day was the reason. That said, since my main job here in Tena is to work on the DOCUMENTARY that Lan Anh and I are working on, as well as cook for her and practice my spanish, I should also have a bit more time to write my thoughts every few days.

About the Documentary… well its her project and idea I am just excited and lending what help I can. The focus is on women, specifically the maltreated and abuse of women in Ecuador not only through the family, but its links with the work women must do as well. The focus on abuse will be her placement here in Tena, “La Casa de la Mujer” (The woman’s house), and we have already done some interviewing in Quito, some background shooting, though we will still do a bit more there… and today Lan Anh is doing some filming of the office. We have a lot to do in just 3 weeks here, and then its back to Quito to edit the movie which will be a full time job, because it will probably be a 30-40 minute documentary, and then we also need to create a 5-10 minute short “sponor” film for her office. The cool thing is that she has so far, not just for the documentary but for her other ideas for la casa, such as to create a resource library for women to use, help to get medicine, to setup a pamphlet space that is easily accessible.

Lan Anh has been telling me some of the stories, the happenings at la casa de la mujer, and some and a lot of it, well how women are being treated, while not surprising because it is the unfortunate way that women are treated too often in other places, still is disturbing. Today I read one of the testimony case reports… What a world we live in. I feel blank as if some realities are heavy enough to close ones mind for a time, and stupefied as if there are words I should have but just cannot reach. Though it makes me evermore glad that we are working on this documentary, that Lan Anh is doing very important work.

Yesterday I resumed studying spanish. My goal is to study two hours per day, some days literature, some days grammar, some just vocabulary. While far from fluent, I feel myself getting closer and pretty much can self correct mistakes, or know when I am making a mistake with a preposition in a wrong place here or there. While some of the tenses I still don’t use as often as I should, I know by nature of the fact that I have been dreaming in Spanish, if not fluent at least fluid, almost ever day. My goal here in Tena is to work on 10 new words ever day… or if not entirely new words, uses of particular verbs or words, etc… To help me with this, I have a book of compiled literature pieces that I used in one of my Berkeley Spanish classes (but didnt utilize as much as I should have), as well as a book of “cuetos magicos” (magic short stories) that Marisol (Lan Anh’s former spanish teacher) gave me. We stayed with her, a lovely woman full of giggles and spanish corrections, when we came back from Cuba. I departed from her house to Tena, leaving some of my stuff behind which is thankfully ok with her.

As for pleasure reading… I am half way through Joseph Conrad’s “Nostromo”, supposedly his most famous. I’m also in the middle, intermittently Lan Anh is reading it also, of a book on Liberation Theology. And lastly, which I’ll continue after the Conrad novel, I am re-reading, for inspiration or perhaps just to understand it better, Karl Polanyi’s “The Great Transformation”.

I suppose that is all I have to write for now…

BOGOTA -(Dow Jones)- Colombia has halted trade talks with the U.S., dashing hopes that a free trade agreement agreement which would also encompass Ecuador and Peru could be wrapped up by year-end.

Hernando Jose Gomez, Colombia#8217;s top negotiator, said his country wants the U.S. to soften its position on agriculture and intellectual property before talks can be resumed.

#8220;We concluded that the full package needs more work and requires flexibility from the U.S. on issues that are sensitive for us,#8221; Gomez said Tuesday evening in a statement.

The decision follows a similar announcement by Ecuador#8217;s delegation, which also walked away from the table Tuesday. Talks on what was billed as the last round of negotiations started Nov. 13 and were supposed to finish Nov. 18 but were extended to try and bridge the differences. Colombia had been seen as one of the most vociferous supporters of the deal, while politically-fragile Ecuador had been more reticent from the start.

Ecuador said it would return for talks in January, but Colombia said they would only restart when the U.S. came up with a new proposal.

Only the Peruvian negotiators returned to the talks Wednesday morning, as they continue to try to hammer out an accord at the U.S. Trade Representatives Office in Washington.

The agreement would give the three Andean nations better access to U.S. markets, and allow U.S. products into their own markets, though it does little to stimulate cross-border trade between them.

Just as with Ecuador, the main sticking points for Colombia are agriculture and intellectual property. Gomez said there was some progress on dairy and meat, but the U.S. hadn#8217;t offered to open its markets enough. Furthermore, Colombia wants the U.S. to agree on mechanisms to protect #8220;sensitive#8221; products such as rice and corn.

On intellectual property, the countries still need to agree on the issues related to property rights for pharmaceuticals, he said.

On a brighter note, Jose Humberto Botero, the Colombian trade minister, said Wednesday morning that the number of conflict issues with the U.S. is falling. Colombia is still interested in signing a trade deal with the U.S., said President Alvaro Uribe in a separate statement.

#8220;This issue requires a lot of patience. Every day, we must realize that our countries need this treaty and the access to the U.S. market, but it must be fair,#8221; Uribe said.

The talks are also backed by some key parts of Colombia#8217;s business community.

A free trade agreement with the U.S. will be positive for the country said Camilo Duran, the chief executive of Exxon Mobil Corp.#8217;s (XMO) Colombian unit.

#8220;The are more benefits than losses. Colombia needs to be on the map of international trade,#8221; Duran said. #8220;Experiences in other countries such as Mexico and Chile yielded positive results.#8221;

Associations of Colombian businessmen, such as flower producers and textile makers, also argued in favor of the treaty. Shares in two Colombian textile companies have risen in recent days, as investors value the privileged access to the U.S. market that a trade agreement would bring.

Most farmers and poultry producers oppose a free trade agreement, as do soap opera producers and actors who fear an invasion of U.S. television shows.

According to a poll carried out in early November by Gallup, the support of a free trade agreement fell among Colombians to 42% from 55% in August.

It has been a while since thoughts have been recorded on this cyber platform.

Busy as usual, hectic a little more, sick quite a bit last week.

Well any how, a happy thanksgiving, it is indeed a day of thanks as I suppose there are many. On this day in Ecuador, the upper class elite who frequent super markets will buy their Turkeys and pretend they are Americans. Yes, thats right. From weeks ago, there have been freezers full of frozen Turkeys in Supermaxi and Santa Maria, the two main supermarket chains. What siliness it seems to me, but then of course Christmas and many other holidays are transnational ones. And of course, even Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving.

I wrote a little article on Thanksgiving for Accion Ecologica that I will share tomorrow. I am thankful for many things today#8230; that I have a loving family back home and loving family here with me, Lan Anh, who is returning from Tena, the oriente today. She has spent the last 4 days there, suffering through the heat and humidity with an eye infection to #8220;shaddow work#8221; with her potential placement with the Trent in Ecuador program. The place she has been at is Casa de las Mujeres (The woman#8217;s house). It is an organization that serves women in the community in and surrounding Tena. I am so worried about her because she cannot sleep with the heat and the pain in her eye.

I am also thankful that my mother is going to spend this day with friends, in celebraion and feast and that she will think of me and miss me and Lan Anh, and she and I my mom. I am glad I got to talk with my dad yesterday, and that my brother John seems to be doing well with his treatment program.

I am most thankful that even though Lan Anh and I have had to adapt to much and have experienced sicknesses and crime, that we are still safe and I personally feel like I learn more every day: about fascinating culture dynamics and language, street smarts, about the world, and about new #8220;facts and academic#8221; things that are becoming much clearer to me.

I am also thankful that somehow, in a complete turn around, Colombia and Ecuador have put a standstill to the Andean Free Trade Agreement negotiations. I am going to post an article on that in a minute.

I do not think I will finish writing the concluding part about my time in the amazon rain forrest, and I certainly hope that when Lan Anh and I live there that this new challenge will bring more wisdom and learning. I have this idea to buy a book about the flora and fauna of Ecuador#8217;s Oriente and to study and identify and to learn about medecines there. What certainly I can say about this though, is that I do not want to do it with eco-tourism groups.

Also, I am in the process of writing an article, and am going to post what I have so far in the next update, if any one wants to read and give me corrections or feedback.

And lastly as a bit of a surprise note: Lan Anh and I are going to La Habana, Cuba for Christmas. Yeah, Christmas s Cuba. I got the tickets today, walking from the bank with $900 (the cost of both of the tickets) was strange. Of course, Cubana airlines doesn#8217;t take credit cards from the U.S. So why Cuba? Well because out of all the countries in Latin America, with exception of Peru (which we will go later), Venezuela (which we might have funding to go to the World Social Forum) and Colombia (which my parents would kill me if FARC didn#8217;t)#8230; it was the cheapest. Yeah, even going to Chile and Bolivia by air is $400#8230; why not pay an extra $50 to go to the Carribean, to Cuba the magical place (but still full of problems, just like every well else). that is a no-no off limits for Americans. Well, Cuba still lets Americans in. They just can#8217;t stamp my passport.

So now I#8217;m going to be reading Fidel#8217;s biography, and perhaps a few other books people recomend to me. Not that I like Fidel, just the opposite. Yet still he is an important figure to read about.

Alright, so where was I with my jungle story. I had just arrived to Tena and was laying down some criticism about Lan Anh#8217;s peers. It was night. I had to kill a cock roach that reminded me of my time in Viet Nam. I rather enjoyed taking a hot shower that did not radiate back and forth between boiling and hypothermia. The satelite TV in the rooms was unimpressive, though I did watch part of #8220;Amores Perros#8221; (love#8217;s a bitch). Then the porn started and I lost interest.

Before I forget, here is a map of Ecuador, Tena is in the East. Our eco-tour was a few hours further East, past Misahuallí (which has monkeys that walk all over the town center). Where Lan Anh and I went last weekend, Bahía de Caraquez, can also be seen on the coast (west).

Bright and early (5am) the next day, everyone got ready for their trek into the real real jungle (though clearly the python, giant río Tena, huge insects, etc certainly stamped by passport as being in #8220;El Oriente#8221;, we had yet to go through any thing that needed a machette to clear the way first).

A slight complication arose: Maria, the program director for Lan Anh#8217;s program said I could not go with them because their was no room. In actual, Lan Anh and I both knew she was just being bitchy and taking it out on me. Yes we were going to go visit an indígenas community. But there is always room for one more, as proven by the way people pack into the trains buses and the like.

As an example: On the bus to the coast, Lan Anh and I saw one bus packed full and about 10 people RIDING ON TOP . The sardines decided to catch some wind.

Well Lan Anh told Maria that she was not going to go if I wasn#8217;t allowed (I had just completed an 8 hour journey and would now be left behind in a strange knew place with no where to go? Hell no). Maria#8217;s storm was tempered and we bitterly played the part of vascilation.

The 2 hour bus ride to the Río Napo was hot and bumpy, but there was an air of anticipation. Departing the bus, we then boarded long canoes, myself in utter awe as I came face to face with what all of those movies of the amazon look like. Finally the phrase #8220;it#8217;s a jungle out there!#8221; really had new meaning for me. The motorized canoes (oxy-moron here?) were swift, the water was brown, and perhaps there were piranhas waiting down bellow to munch on our hydes. Thinking about these carnivorous fish brought to memory a few cheesy #8220;amazon#8221; movies where people get gobbled up by a swarm of piranhas. Or the James Bond movie #8220;You only live twice#8221; where that woman is dumped into a Paranha tank. In reality, most people would not be bothered by these fish, unless you had an open wound or swam as if you were injured and stayed in their way.

About 15 minutes after the canoe journey, we reached the other embankment some kilometers down the snaking river. We were given rubber boots (galoshes) and one of the men who came with us from the boat introduced himself as our guide. He was wearing a white marathon t-shirt and a university of wisconsin red cap. He was indígenas. He wore no shoes. The other man that came with us, also an indígenas man, his name I recall is Luis, was very easy going and helped Lan Anh find a very sturdy walking stick.

The party began its hike through an already cut and created path. I could tell it has been tread many times, and as I began to trudge through the uphill battle of slidding mud and vines, my boots tied to my handbag and waterbottle weighing down my shoulder, I felt exhausted in only the first steps. The endurance needed to complete these 3 hour devulgance into the almighty mother of forrests would, and indeed did, require a lot of sweat and patience. But for the loudmouth students in their incessant racous and stentorian (thanks dad) demeanor, the walk was one of the most humbling and beautiful events of my life. The hum of the world was about us, and it was pierced with the skawking not of the possible birds we might have seen, but by the canadians talking about Canada. Oy.

After the long difficult venture into but a single vein into the body of the Amazon Rain forrest, we ate food prepared by us by indigenous people. The Canadians upon arriving, did not even come to give gratitude to the guide, or the staff of this small constructed community of huts made for tourists, of a finer quality than the indigenous people dwelled. Instead, these fools ran half naked into the Río Blanco for a swim.

We went a bit later to the actual village of the people who worked at the #8220;amazon ecotourist village#8221;. No electricity, running water. A school without supplies. A medical clinic without a doctor. Though perhaps i may be forcing my western views as to needing a doctor, since our guide pointed out so many different medicinal plants along the way. My favorite was called #8220;Dragon#8217;s Blood#8221;. One stroke with the machette against this tree (that had ants the size of 50 cent pieces crawling on it) would bring a red viscous substance down its bark. Collected with a leaf, touched to the skin, it looked exactly like blood. Better than the movies. It#8217;s function? As a contraceptive, as shampoo, and as an ointment for insect bites. So wonderful the creations of our world!

That night we ate again, the food was wonderful, an assortment of potatoe soup with leeks, rice and fried yuka, and a small portion of beef. And then the dancing and music began.

Out from the kitchen came 5 almost naked #8220;indians#8221; with their feathers up and their traditional pipes and drums. Alright, so we get a great little show. Most people loved it, all the dancing around and singing in Kichwa. They even had an #8220;engagement dance#8221; and started pulling the Canadians into the dance. Some of the students who are studying Kichwa, performed a few songs, and the rest of us sang something. What was it. Oh yeah, #8220;you are my sunshine#8221;.

But back to the part that made me feel like reaching down into my stomach and pulling my intestines out. Yes, you should have a wrinkled face. So here we were, every one chanting and dancing and having a good all time. All paid for as part of our entertainment eco-tourism package. Not part of a realistic, heartfelt sharing of cultural experiences. No, we paid to see naked indians dance, because thats what we expected to see. Thats what the market wants. We paid to have a guide who we could ignore, to sleep in nicely carpented domociles, with a fresh river to swim in. We pay for that, as cheap as it is.

Yet I had to ask myself a deeper question: was this helping to improve the lives of the people who lived there? The answer, when talking to a few of the indigenous persons, was that it was their only source of income. Yes sir, give us some more dancing naked indians and we´ll let you survive a bit! Sure, one of the men was able to send his daughter to university, this is fabulous. But the village they lived at, the community isolated from basic human rights, that is something that we were not bringing. We were there to have a good time, not to engage in mutual community support. Though what could we have done in 2 days? Would it have been just another group of priveledged volunteers comming and going? I have wrestled with the uncomfortableness that Lan Anh and I, and a few others (Jen and Daniel) felt with this experience.

At last during my reverie, Lan Anh and i could not take the forced-fiest this friday night, so we left, the only 2 who did so, excusing ourselves to our beds drapped with mosquito nets.

Well, before I finish the tale of my trip to the amazon, I figure I might as well recount the weekend experience Lan Anh and I had at the beach.

As a bit of beginning irony: we spent more time on the bus to and from the beach, than actually on it. Thursday night we got to the #8220;terminal terrestre#8221;, the main terminal for bus travel out of the city. We took the bus line #8220;Reina del Camino#8221; (Queen of the road) at 11:30pm.

The rather bumpy and smelly ride, was again with constantly loud blarring music that the conductor felt was absolutely necessary, and 2 or three infants screaming their lungs out without pause for hours. Needless to say, when we got to #8220;Bahía#8221; we were super exhausted. And in the words of many game-show announcers #8220;But that´s not all!!!!#8221; From Bahía, we walked to a ferry.

This was our first Latin American ferry experience. The captains of the boat made us take life vests. I say take, because we were not really required to wear them. I believe it is simply a law imposed by the port authority, and more for show than for any thing else. Lan Anh and I waited in the boat until enough people were on it to give it the appearance of a Cuban refugee boat racing for the shores of Florida. The short boat ride accross #8220;El Río Chone#8221; was actually quite smoothe despite and there were dozens of huge pelicans swooping into the wake and waters for their early breakfast.

Our destination was San Vicente, the other side of the river, which was already bristling at 7am. We went to the tourist center and decides on a beach in a small town some 15km by bus called #8220;Canoa#8221; (Canoe).

Much of the journey to Canoa by bus was how the rest of the bus ride through Ecuador to the coast looked like. Shambled domociles, construed of bannana leaves, rotting wood and tin. Clothes lines strewn from some tree to the house with clothes drying, the house swamped by different types of vegitation or livestock.

One part of the coast, however, was so remarkable as to seem part of a depressing and diabolical movie. Imagine the opening scenes of #8220;Wizard of Oz#8221; with a huge dry dusty sand storm in rural Kansas. Then add palm trees, bannana plantations and the scene I described above. And make the people dark. Add a boy collecting water from a well, pouring it into two pails on either side of a mule, a few mules already riding their water-mules and donkies along the side of the road, starving cows and even more ramshackle domociles that were collapsing in some parts. Forget about any electricity or running water. This plightful scene played itself out in an area along the coast, such a dry part in such a tropical place. This, Lan Anh and I believe, is the result of the consecutive 1997 and 1999 #8220;El Niño#8221; that devastated Ecuadorian farmers on the coast.

Yet somehow, travelers must not see this, for it sure does not seem to put a damper on their good time at the Beach. The view of the coean, the feel of the warm waves and the humid though refreshing sun surely will wash away those dark memories on the way to a temporary paradise. Indeed, even cognizant of the scenes that betook us a few hours back, laying down for a nap on the flowing sand, watching little crabs scurry back and forth and small storks try to catch them put smiles on our faces.

What deep breaths some of us are allowed to take. What sighs others heave working all day long. I wonder if the peasants, those owners of the places we only pass and shake our heads, can afford to enjoy the beach.

For while the signs proclaim that Canoa is a public good, take care of it. The sea refuses no one into its tide and wake, the hotels and restaurants around certainly could. Even though $6/night for a hotel and about $4/meal seems cheap to most of the gringos and ecuadorians and travelers who can go to the beach#8230; $10 is certainly more than a weeks income for most of the families who we passed on our way.

The seafood we ate wasn´t really worth mentioning. It just made Lan Anh homesick for such excellent seafood from Viet Nam, and I have to admit I missed it too. We would have even been overjoyed for the Fisherman#8217;s market in San Francisco. Canoa was a bit too crowded for us#8230; and at night. Night was the worst.

The place was definately a party town. The overly priced drinking began at around 7pm. The music at around 9. The party, which was on the beach, was kicked off with a huge Ford F-350 that rode around the 3 or 4 tourist blocks that consisted of Canoa and most likely its principle income sector of town.

How did we know this truck was passing? Because it had the biggest stereo system in the back, repleat with 3 huge stereos and a few amplifiers and subwoofers blasting and shaking every damn thing for a kilometer at least. The music being played, or rather, being boomed out obnoxiously, is that of a genre very popular in Ecuador and especially so on the coast. It#8217;s called #8220;reggaeton#8221; (pronounced reggae tone in english and reguetón in spanish).

The music began as a form of underground music, mixing jamacian dance beats and Trinidadian drum rhythm called #8220;dem bow#8221;. Most of the lyrics are in rap form, and the lyrics tend to be very much branched into three types: political and liberation freedom, cultural reclamation of heritage, and partying and its assorted themes (drugs, sex, etc..). While I believe the creators of Reggaeton had a good idea in mind, unfortunately the people who seem to play this music have decided it should be played constantly even through the night and morning, loud enough to rattle your teeth and every track almost has the exact same beat.

Alright, some people who grumble and do not appreciate rap and hip hop often accuse it as having the same rhythm, tone and beat - but I totally reject this claim. Perhaps I am not being being as fair as I should and more pissed off about having my nerves baked over and over again, but after my two months here I´ve decided I hate Reggaeton. I#8217;ve come up with 2 nicknames for it, the first established at my house in Quito, the second at Canoa. Fabián and I call Reggaeton #8220;El martillo jodiendo#8221; (The fucking hammer) and this weekend I came up with #8220;ruidoton#8221; (noisey tone).

Any how, we got up early on Saturday, did the same process of travel in reverse. Except the bus to Quito broke down for 3 hours on the way, and both Lan Anh and I had our digestive and metabolic systems out of whack. Lan Anh got sick and I was doing the #8220;I´m not gonna make it to a bathroom#8221; sit (a 45 degree angle above the sweet, teeth clenched, bracing my hands to the point of bleech white on the chair arms) 2 times. But we got back safetly, overall hapilly and hungry. And went to bed and slept 12 hours

note: I worte this over the past week

I wrote this Sunday:

Lan Anh and I got back a few hours ago from #8220;El Oriente#8221;. The Amazon rain forrest. Wow. I definately want to go back there. The ride was long, the trek beautiful and not without its confrontations, and I am praying I won#8217;t get malaria, because the mosquitos had a good little feast on all of us. I guess I will begin my regaling of the past 4 days with Thursday afternoon.

The most important thing about Thursday was that it was my mom#8217;s birthday. I had already packed the night before, and was planning on teaching all of my classes and then taking a bus to Tena. That however, did not happen.

As it turns out, I needed to be in Tena by 5am Friday morning, so needed to leave quite a bit to give myself enough of a rest and buffer to be prepared for a 2 hour bus ride through the rural jungle roads (read: free massage?), an hour of canoing and a 2.5 hour hike through the forrest itself.

So I was off at 3;30 after wishing mom a happy birthday.

More writing Wednesday:

Setting off from the Terminal Terrestre was an experience in and of itself. I arrived by Taxi at 3:30 and quickly located the #8220;amazonas#8221; bus by the man calling out the window. The bus was moving, so I had no choice but to make a run for it, with my camping backpack on and jump onto the moving bus. As this process was occuring, a light rain in the bright sky began to fall.

Moving through the Andean mountains, the curving one-way road, some how reminded me of the California US 1, but without the pacific ocean lingering bellow. The scenery was replaced by a dense, unpenetrable looking forest with mist and fog off our path.

The ride to Tena was for the most part uneventful. Well, uneventful in terms of a latin american cross-country experience perhaps. After 2 hours of travel, already some of the foliage began to look more tropical like, finally after one pass it was clear: Upon the horizon sat the land of the Shuar, Napo, Hurani and the dozens of other indigenous communities still very much in existance. The amazon rain forrest loomed upon me as no sight probably ever has in the world. The complete unbroken greenery of swampy mountains, the generations and diversity of trees living upon the exact same spot, growing high on slopes of jungle mountains with rivers cutting and breaking through their way.

This was not the first time I had seen a rain forest, a jungle. When traveling by train through Viet Nam with Lan Anh, there was certainly enough jungle to experience. Indeed, the temperature upon my voyage to Tena was reminiscent to Viet Nam. Humid, hot and with an air that feels a bit like a steamy shower is occuring right bellow your face.

As dusk was setting in, the bus passed under a giant metal tube that with further inspection, I guessed was an oil pipeline. My assumption was confirmed when huge vats and different pipes and mechanical gadgets and machinery that I knew together formed an oil processing plant, sprang up into a valley bellow some kilometers after the pipeline. This sight put a feeling of bitterness into me. Indeed, one of the many proofs and signs of the continued rapping and exploitation of the indigenous peoples of the world, of Ecuador. I felt somehow motivated, a match of hatred and confusion sweptover me at the contradiction of this petroleum plant. Surrounding by such magnificent beauty, mared by this ugly scar of modernity and a symbol of hope, wealth, despair and poverty to so many. Quito could not have such luxuries, Ecuador would not have highways, if not for this blood money extracted from the fantisized black gold which has not lead to highways or luxuries to the people whose lands it has been taken from. What a deep sigh.

Upon crossing one of the wooden, quite unstable looking bridges, we came to in impasse: a chemical truck was stopped in the road, 2 people waving us down. A tree had fallen a few meters before them and the 2 men were unable to move it. The busdriver, and the bus adendant called all of the men out of the bus to help in the effort of moving the tree. Since dusk was clearly upon us now, and the roads were already loosing their asphalted surfacing, we had to be quick. Traveling at night through the amazon seemed not just perilous, but something akin to a Clint Eastood movie approximate to suicidal.

That done, anoher hour past uneventfully until we came to a military checkpoint. At a gas station. Two army guys got on board, smoking (at the gas station) and justlooked down the isles for a bit. The woman sitting in the seat beside me, as she saw we were stopping at a military checkpoint, put a handful of money inbetween her breasts, tucking it away from perhaps the corruptable hands of the army grunts. I followed suit when I saw her do this, opting for the hidding place to be my boot. A few minutes later the ary guys, looking lethargic and uninterested, disboarded and we were on our way.

At hour six and a half, 183km away (yes, only about 150 miles, the distnce from Sacramento to Santa Cruz) we pulled up to the bus terminal in Tena, the capitol of Napo, in El Oriente. I grabbed a taxi after bargaining for a few minutes, and went to Lan Anh#8217;s hotel #8220;Los Yutzos#8221; and got out to the sound of the jungle. All manner of insects cooing, beeping and buzzing, the unceasing natural and calming sound that I must admit I miss.

Lan Anh was busy in a late 9pm lectue with her class on a terrace, so I rented a room and took a shower. And shoed away a giant cockroach.

I sat in on the remainder of the lecture. I was unimpressed. Some of the students sounded rather moronic. The professor didn#8217;t seem to know how to respond. They were discussing indigenous struggles and definitions of indigenous autonomy, or that is what it sounded like to me. One of the questions posed was #8220;what are the goals of indigenous struggles, like those of Sarayaku (a famous one in Ecuador)#8221; One student felt that the struggles seemed like they did not have a solid goal or objective, so thought that in order for a struggle to be #8220;valid#8221; they need to have more clearly defined goals. The problem with this kind of thought, is that struggle being waged by indigenous communities, which have changed trajectories in the hundreds of years they have been waged, still seem to contain a general property. That is, they are of a defensive nature against a state or entity that is vastly more powerful than they, exploitative and usually unwilling or unwanting to negotiate. The kind of thinking and mentality of the majority of lan anh#8217;s classmates, as she says herself, is very worrisome and scary. Definately so, because these university students are going to be living with communities next semester and careers in #8220;development#8221;. This kind of theme with them would continue thruought the 2 days I was with them in the amazon.

More writing Thursday:

Tonight, Lan Anh and I head off for The coast of Ecuador, to the beaches, for a day of la sol y mariscos (sun and seafood). The city we are going to on this Ecuadorian Holiday (The independence of Cuenca#8230; another day people get off work) is called Bahia de Curaquez. It is a popular spot, though not as much as Esmereldas, and is in the center northern part of the coast, whereas Esmereldas (where I went before) is close to Colombia. Our bus leaves at 11pm, so we will get to Bahia by 6am.

The last 3 days have been a continuoms of busy, I went to Accion Ecologica for 1 of the days, got to experience #8220;Colada morada#8221; (a mulberry, blackberry traditional punch) and bread shaped like a gingerbread man. This is the food of the beginning of the holidays (like eggnog and gingerbread back home I suppose). I also had my classes Monday and Tuesday, which took up quite a bit of time.

At about 10:30pm last Friday, the directors of Acción Ecológica started comming around and saying #8220;vamos, vamos#8221; (lets go, lets go) and I stayed put because I didn´t think I was included until Liz, with a megaphone in her hands said #8220;vamos chico!#8221; and so I saved my information and asked where I was going#8230; she told me to the Colombian embassy. Alright, still a bit naive until I got outside and inside a taxi I realized what the bullhorn was for. And that some people were carrying banners. I was just volunteered to go to a protest.

So what were we going to protest?

Fumigations in Ecuador as part of #8220;Plan Colombia#8221;

or, some information in english, as known to Americans: #8220;The drug war#8221;

My good buddy Michael Escobar has a good essay on this topic.

So any how, that was friday morning#8230; then I had to teach class#8230; and came home excited to be with my Lan Anh yeu.

The weekend passed essentially like this: stress, frustration, scrambling of lan anh to finish her 15 pg midterm and memorize and speech in spanish, with some good music and food inbetween.

These past few days have been more of the same: 13 hours of busy and tired. I feel like I am not progressing as much with my research with Acción Ecológica#8230; and I also have a dozen other things to complete like testing the equipment for the documentary Lan Anh and I may do in El Oriente (The amazon) (if the equipment works properly).

Tuesday morning, Lan Anh left for #8220;El Oriente#8221; with other students in her program, they are going through a few different cities and taking a trek into the deep jungle with an eco-tourist organization. I am canceling classes this friday to be able to meet up with her. I have this, childish really, sense of #8220;indiana jones#8221;#8230; rushing off to the amazon, not really knowing where Lan Anh is going to have to figure out how to track her down. Any concerned parents out there: don´t worry, I´ll have her location before I get there. Still though, I am very much looking forward to the experience. When I was in Viet Nam Lan Anh and I passed by Vietnamese jungle, and plenty of it#8230; but I´ve never actually been IN one.

A few other things that come to mind as I look through the window.

1) It appears to me, the Ecuadorian (and im overgeneralizing, I am aware of it)#8230; sense of #8220;traffic safety#8221; is quite quite different from back home. Let me present a scenario I just saw.

A huge garbage truck is barreling down the street with 4 people sitting/hanging on top. Yes on top. A man is crossing the street at the wrong time, he almost got hit. The men atop sort of yell at him for being in the drivers way.

Analysis by Californian traffic cop: #8220;Mr. driver, I am going to take away your license for not yielding to the pedestrian, who could have been killed by your refusal to slow down!

Analysis by Ecuadorian traffic cop: #8220;What do you mean you think pedestrians have a right of way? What is going faster, you or the truck? Whose choice was it to enter the street, the domain of fast moving objects?

Another note: Bus drivers dont stop to let male passengers board or get off. Its SOOOO fun to run along the bus ang hop on. NOT.

I havn´t been taking extra time at Acción Ecológica to write on this blog the last few days, because i havn´t had any extra time. I get up early, go jog with Fabián a few kms at the Polytechnic University of Ecuador#8230;and rush off to A.E. for a few hours before I head BACK to the Polytechnic university to start my first class at 1pm.

Oh yeah, so I thought I was only going to have 2 classes - from 4-8pm, but my boss, this past Sunday, decided to deliver the news that he decided to sign me up for an extra 2 hours. Well, I really had no way out of it and I think it was a bit underhanded, but I think also that he essentially is in a position of few other options than this position. However, there are other ways to handle it. So I was given my #8220;professor#8221; papers, I had to sign for my place in the university as an adjunct lecturer#8230; teaching english. They offered me a parking space (not up front but actually in a place that would take me farther to walk from the space to my classes, than from my house to my classes)#8230; though of course I do not have a car, so it little matters. My pay is#8230; by Ecuadorian standards, which is what matters, decent.

I have, in the 3 classes of #8220;level 1 basic english#8221; about 46 students. Not too many, but a handful. I have tried to be funny and make them laugh, keep interest, be mature but also not stuck up and without #8220;youth humor#8221;. A note on this though: I have a professor of engineering in one of my classes, as well as a 60 year old accountant for PetroEcuador. I feel a little more akward in my 4pm class (with these two gentlemen) and not as apt to do the youth humor.

Any how, I have done a lot with pronunciation, using the International Phonetic Association rules and symbols. Hey, a Berkeley linguistics class has now come to fruition as useful to me. Thank you Dr. Sam Mchombo and grad student David M.!!! This has gone well for some of the students, other seem completely lost. I, however, feel it is an important tool for them, because their dictionaries all utilize the IPA pronunciation guide. It will take a while, but thats what language learning is about: time and practice.

I have been tired the last few days, not too tired, and I feel vigorous and energetic in class. I just need to make sure I get enough sleep and nutritious food to keep this up. Don#8217;t want to be sick!

Ok, off to the university now!

Right now, listening to Victor Jara at the office, got a CD on my walk to work along #8220;la patria#8221;, the title is #8220;Pongo en tus manos abiertas#8221; (I put in your open hands#8230;.). So much going on in the world, reading the news today and yesterday.

There were many protest in Colombia and also here in Ecuador against TLC, suppression of onions, fumigations and mal treatment by colombia to indígena Kichwa on the frontier#8230; and of course OXY came up. Really, now is the time to be in the forefront of trying to stop AFTA. Such a good time to be learning, studying and involved. I was talking with Michael Escobar yesterday #8230; who is sort of floating around L.A. right now looking for something to do (and provide means of subsistence). Well I advised him to come on down to Latin America. Of course its not that easy and we have to be responsible. I just see him as a fellow companion, a like minded but also someone who always keeps me on my toes with arguments. And that he is very capable of adding to the many number of grass roots activists that can bring down yet another part of the US hegemonic global strategy.

This reminds me of Rage Against the Machine lyrics from #8220;The battle of LA#8221;.. i think its Guerrla Radio..

It has to start somewhere, it has to start sometime, what better place than here

what better time than now.

Three cases in point of how big this world seems to be, how many problems there are:

1) The continually stalled elections in Haiti, by a government picked by the U.S. The country has deteriorated even more with the ouster of Aristide, who was already limited with his ability to change things from the get-go. I linked to an article in yesterday´s post.

2) the comming election in Iraq are a pending fiasco either way they turn out, no thanks really to the U.S. (if it had not been for Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani, it is most plausible civil war will have already broken out)#8230; and if the #8220;lebanoization#8221; of iraq continues for sure in the next 10 or 15 years we´ll see an increased crisis if not civil war which will certainly destroy the already created country of Iraq even more.

3) the continued embargo on Cuba that the Bush administration has redoubled its efforts to crush cuban people. The article I posted yesterday was about NGOs not being allowed to bring things like basic medical supplies, computers for hospitals, water sanitation devices. The spokesperson from the Whitehouses response? #8220;We have to bring Fidel down!#8221;. What era are we in? Yeah, helping kids in hospitals is akin to creating little communist machines to aid Fidel#8230; in what? Keeping him from falling down at long winded speeches?

And yet this huge world of problems feels very small sometimes.

Yesterday I met with the professor I mentioned#8230; Dr. Michael Dorsey#8230; at dinner in La Mariscal at a great lebanese restaurant. Who was there with him? Two just graduated Berkeley students, one Ecuadorian (Joslyn, who is big in the progressive music scene here in Quito#8230; and who I believe played in the band #8220;Curare#8221; while she took 2 years off from Cal, a Development Studies studies major.) The other, Sarah#8230; from S.F. and a Latin American studies major whose good friend studied with Michael Escobar in chile last spring. And the world decreases even smaller. It turns out that Anna Larrea, the daughter of Maria, the program director for Lan Anh´s program and fellow student at Trent University#8230; was best friends with Josylyn a few years back. And#8230; just for the hell of it#8230; my roomate, Fabián, his friend from Colombia also played in Curare (a heavy metal - folklore mix, very activist and indígenas, desconstructing identity oriented, very awesome). Thus, Fabián also met Joslyn#8230;

Hopefully we´ll be going to Karaoke tonight, if Lan Anh (mi pobrecita!) can finish all her 600 pages of reading#8230; ahhhhh#8230;. and indeed, the Berkeley girls, Fabián, Lan Anh and a few other people (who we´re not sure) will be comming for a pot luck at my house this Sunday.

And now with my rantings and all, back to work!

So of course what do I do? I decide to walk to work, get some energy in me. Well it didn´t work too well, because I got to work feeling like I needed a nap. Oh well, ¡c#8217;est la vive!

Yesterday I worked on the blog a bit, though did not update. I spent most of the day going through, slowly, the summary of the CAFTA text and looking a lot of things up. I have also begun to translate #8220;El Ecuador Post-petrolero#8221; for Acción#8230;

All of this CAFTA reading and learning about energy has lead me to reading a lot on different types of energy development. Fascinating stuff.

I´ve also met a seemingly rather interesting and ACTIVE professor from Dartmouth, a Dr. Michael Dorsey. I emailed him last week and he told me to call him, and i have yet to do so#8230; I really should, always inspiring to meet people who I somewhat aspire to live up to (both professor and yet social, working with NGOs and directly involved with grass roots movements + a little journalism and cinematography on the side).

And speaking of people I have met#8230; Tuesday night I went out, too exhausted to cook, with Fabián to his university, only 3 blocks from the house, in order to get a $2 cafeteria meal. Filling though not very impressive food. As most Ecuadorian food isn´t (to my tastes). I spent much of the time calling, and worried about Lan Anh#8230; I had remembered she had gone to dinner with Daniel and her prof. but thought that a 3 hour lapse in answering her phone was troublesome.. so I was worried. Finally got ahold of her.

In the meantime, after dinner, I joined Fabián with about 10 other compatriots in the sala, and all of them smoked except for myself and Noberto, a rather deep bellowed and voiced Venezuelan. Among the smoke and the political talk (dominated by Theo and Manolo, two Ecuadorians) I certainly noticed something that felt rather spectacular to me. Sitting among the group was a Chilean, 3 colombians, 4 Ecuadorians, a Bolivian, 2 Venezuelans, a Peruvian, an Argentinian and me. Wow, never before had I been sitting in a group of people from all different countries who were all speaking their #8220;native, first language#8221; and whose parents (or grand parents) were not immigrants. That is to say, sure in California I can meet and speak with people in english from 80 different countries if I want - yet usually their first learned language is not english. Yet of course, while this was a bit amazing, it was afterall a university sala. Certainly most of the people from the respective countries do not have the chance to all go and meet one another as such. I felt very cognizant that I was with a certain class of people. I wonder if I bring this up with Manolo (the leninist-socialist as he calls himself).. if he would have though about this before. Nonetheless, while most of what they were saying was too fast for me to get (only about 30%) I was still able to contribute a bit.

And now I am going to return to my work. If I have time, I´m going to post some thoughts on two news articles on Haiti and Cuba I read earlier today.