Plants in my house.
As Peace Corps Volunteers, we have moved a lot closer to the governmental bureaucracy we all know and love. I suppose every organization has its own red tape, reporting requirements, funding structures, and hierarchies. Navigating all of this is something new for Jenny and me.
One of our duties as PCVs is to report our activities to the government, which seems like a fair thing to require. They want to ensure that taxpayers are getting some value for their investment, however small that investment may be. The annual U.S. Peace Corps budget is in the neighborhood of $400 million—less than one-hundredth of one percent of total federal spending in fiscal year 2025. I joke that the federal government wouldn’t bend over to pick that amount up if it found it on the sidewalk.
Eventually, we’ll have to track specific measures of our service: how many people we work with, what we do, and what impact those efforts have. But the Peace Corps has gone easy on us for our first quarterly report, asking simply for a story. For mine, I wrote about the seniors I spend my mornings with.
After only about six weeks, I’m beginning to feel less like an outsider who is serving lunch and more like a member of their community.
That feeling reached a new level when I was invited to participate in a traditional Ecuadorian dance the group performed at a senior fair. My role was “La Vaca Loca.” I carried a papier-mâché bull over my head—with fireworks attached—and joined the dancing and celebration. Somehow, this American with questionable Spanish had gone from standing on the sidelines to being right in the middle of it all.
It reminded me that integration doesn’t necessarily happen because of a big project or some grand accomplishment. Sometimes it happens simply by showing up. Serving lunch. Playing cards. Listening. Laughing. Dancing. And being willing to look a little ridiculous.
I still have a long way to go with my Spanish, and there is much more I hope to contribute during my time here. But relationships come first. And slowly, through those relationships, Ecuador is beginning to feel a little more like home.
My partner in the dance refers to me as “My Gringo,” but to many of my older friends in Gualaceo, I may forever be known as “La Vaca Loca.”
Jenny’s work continues to be up and down. Over the past two weeks, she’s been giving 30-minute sexuality education workshops to adolescents, focused on making good choices. Some sessions went well. Other times, she would arrive only to find that the event had been canceled, the location had changed, or someone else was giving the presentation. Sometimes the kids simply weren’t engaged. Most of the logistical problems come down to a lack of communication, which we hope will improve with time.
This is a shot from one of my better rides. My bicycle is electric, and while I still have to pedal it, I can ascend into the mountains in short order. Once I get above the dogs that want to bite me, I’m rewarded with amazing views of the high sierra.
The people I meet in the mountains are curious about me and often want to stop and talk, wondering what the heck I’m doing so far from town and so high in the hills.
This is Luis, a farmer I met on the trail who was returning from tending his cows. The blue-and-red bags on either side of his saddle held several gallons of fresh milk. He told me he had traveled extensively in the U.S. and had been to Chicago. Make assumptions at your own peril.
It seems like everyone we meet has either been to the U.S. or has family there. Jenny and I met a man in a shared taxi tonight who has five kids in the States and had lived in Manhattan for 12 years.
Meanwhile, Jenny and I have begun our guitar and English classes. Day one was a success, even though 15 of the 20 kids thought they had signed up for English only and didn’t know a thing about guitar! We’ll see how many show up next week.
Speaking of guitars, I was able to get a new one for myself! It’s been a long four months without playing. My new guitar was made by Ricardo Jr., who learned the craft from Ricardo Sr.
Senior was kind enough to gift us a song. It takes a while for a new guitar with new strings to stay in tune, but that didn’t seem to matter to Ricardo. He played with charm and spirit, which counts for a lot.
I’ve been leaning into my hobbies, hard. Riding my bike, writing a blog, playing my guitar, drawing, and photography. Gualaceo is a vibrant little town, and there is so much to see on the streets, but I want to be sensitive about sticking my phone into people’s faces. That said, I’m particularly proud of this shot of a woman going about her business. Notice the purchases in her back wrap, the lighting, and the way the sidewalks bisect her figure at an angle. My daily walk through this town is a delightful experience.
And finally, here is a small sampling of the many, many plants Maya and Jorge have in our home.
Thanks for reading! Jenny and Andy.
