Marriage Newbie.

I've only been married a mere five months, but I've arrived at one conclusion: almost all the advice you hear before marriage will suddenly sprout wings and fly out the window after those wedding bells chime.  You realize you aren't as cool, patient, or selfless as you once thought.  You realize that men really are from Mars; it's not just a book title! Marriage is sticky, complicated, wonderful, mind-blowing, fun, never predictable....  All those characteristics ON STEROIDS when you're making the transition in another hemisphere of the world.

I've always savored a good challenge, and an international relationship is the best in its game. Sometimes I react differently because I'm an American, and then other times just because I'm purely female (always a toss up between the two).  However, my husband was specially created for my insanity, naiveté, need-for-adventure, and cultural confusion. Sometimes I just look at him, and I think to myself: "How, or better yet WHY, does he put up with this crazy, skinny, white chick?"

Above all, readers, please don't listen to those embittered or pessimistic couples out there for counsel. Sorry, but I believe that the honeymoon can last more than just one month (it has so far); please let me live in my dream world.  I believe that the first year of marriage the couple must discover HOW TO communicate, the glue in the marriage bond, but it doesn't have to be as horrible, hard, and discouraging as everyone makes it out to be.  It depends on the individuals.

So, everyone asks me, "How is married life?" And honestly every time I answer the same:
"It's insane to create a new life with someone else, especially when that's compiled with cultural transitions here in Chile.  But you know what? I absolutely love it! I love doing life with my husband." Marriage is as awesome as the two make it to be. 

Each season has such a beauty to it, treasures that might never be experienced again when a new chapter is written. So enjoy the season you are in!  Find the beauty!  ......In the meantime, I am going to go take a nap with my hubs and listen to his Harley-Davidson-Motorcycle-like snores.

66 Memories in Ecuador

To commemorate my 1.5 years here in Ecuador, I thought I would write a list of my 66 most memorable moments here.

(1)   Enjoyed teaching English more than I ever thought possible.

(2)  Visited Cajas National Park almost 10 times.

(3)  Entertained nine visitors here in Cuenca.

(4)  Gained friends off the street from Switzerland, Holland, Chile, Colombia & California.

(5)  Enjoyed my favorite New Year’s to date in Santo Domingo.

(6)  Witnessed how a Panama Hat is made, from beginning to end.

(7)  Tried guinea pig (twice).

(8)  Suffered from the worst case of parasites and amoebas.

(9)  Spent one hour trying to crack open three crabs with a wooden hammer (just embarrassing).

(10)  Sassed more vulgar men in public than I thought I ever would.

(11)   Experienced most intense parent-teacher conference (to date).

(12)  Found a tarantula in my first room here in Cuenca.

(13)  Had a tarantula crawl on my face in the Amazon (on purpose).

(14)  Learned to detect when there’s a urine stain on the sidewalk.  (and the smell assists)

(15)  Stood three feet away from wild macaws.

(16)  Saw over ten breathtaking waterfalls all over the country.

(17)  Illegally played with monkeys.

(18)  Explored natural regimens for a sundry of physical ailments, ranging from popping garlic cloves for horrendous colds to eating papaya seeds for two weeks straight to kill my parasites.

(19)   Got to see an ocelot like one foot away (in a fenced property).

(20)  Learned the basics of the Salsa de rueda (or Casino).

(21)   Lied way too much about my marital status to the taxi drivers (e.g., “Why yes, I am happily married to the most gorgeous man on earth!”)

(22)  One hour nightly walk in the Amazon, trying not to think about the bullet ants waiting to attack.

(23)   On that nightly walk, however, had a fun rainforest frog on my hand. (not poisonous)

(24)   Agreed to let Ecuadorians take pictures with me merely due to the fact that I am a token gringa. (Not exaggerating at all here)

(25)   Made chocolate from cocoa beans with a native tribe in Misahuallí.

(26)   Chased, tortured, pet too many llamas. Llamas, llamas, llamas.

(27)   Hosted dance parties in our apartment into the wee hours.

(28)   Lived a pyromaniac’s dream with the highly unsafe, firework “castles.”

(29)   Became addicted to the coastal patacones.

(30)   Weaved a basket from the straw root itself.

(31)    Traumatized initially by the open-air market and ended up making amazing friendships by the end of the year.

(32)   Got food poisoning from my own mushroom soup (long story).

(33)   Stood in awe at hearing the rumbles of the Tungurahua volcano (a top favorite).

(34)   Had drunk-like symptoms on two pills of Dramamine in Isla de la Plata.

(35)   Heard the slightly disturbing mating calls of the blue-footed booby.

(36)   Chased crabs like a 4-year old in Puerto López.

(37)    Avoided kids like the plague during Carnival, who would try to spray me with foam or throw water balloons.

(38)  Swam above 4-5 foot sea turtles in the wild. Majestic.

(39)  Had a sea lion play with me for 10 minutes, blowing bubbles in my face the whole time.

(40)  Investigated zero, first, second, third and mixed conditional tenses for two hours in order to teach that lesson correctly.

(41)  Used boat loads of cumin in muffins instead of cinnamon.  In my defense, the bottles looked the same!

(42)  Beautiful times with my dear Colombian friend for the first three months.

(43)    Taught at least 50 Ecuadorians how to make hand turkeys for Thanksgiving.

(44)   Saw algae glow at nighttime in Máncora, Perú.

(45)   Learned to surf and cut up my foot really bad on the rocks.

(46)    Discussed with taxi drivers the profound differences of dating a Latino versus an American.

(47)   Attended my first quinceañera party (celebrating a girl turning 15-years old).

(48)  Attended first concert ever in Latin America:  Jesús Adrián Romero.

(49)   Attended second concert in Guayaquil:  Rojo.

(50)  Asked if I was from Spain probably about 20 times. ¿Vale?

(51)   Participated in a promotional, tourism video of Cuenca.

(52)    Rappelled off of an immense waterfall.

(53)   Left out of breath countless times after walking up about 50 stairs at 8,000 feet of altitude.

(54)   Paraglided with my dad in Paute.

(55)   Named the rat upstairs “Boris” (only heard not seen, a true enigma).

(56)   Overwhelmed by the beauty of the  Lava Tunnels at Isla Santa Cruz.

(57)   Performed an interpretive dance while my two friends sang karaoke to “I Will Survive” in a very public place in Guayaquil.   Attracted a MASSIVE crowd and received donations.

(58)    Performed reggeatón in front of hundreds of Cuencanos. Won a CD!

(59)    Blessed to see an enormous double rainbow over the Andes mountain range.

(60)   Danced in the rain and jumped in puddles on a public street while the locals just stared.

(61)    Learned how to make good soups from scratch (broth and all).

(62)   Scared people with my hysterical laughter (wheezing, crying, lack of breathing overall) at least 10 times.

(63)   Having the best roommates EVER.  Hands down.  Wow!

(64)   Learned to play basic, classical guitar.

(65)   Woke up to the river and mountains every day.

(66)   Fell further in love with South America and its people.

Taking Notes from a Child

Whenever I first arrived to Cuenca, I was beyond intimidated by the open-air market scene, to the point where I didn't go at all the first three months.  Everything moves fast. It's huge. Everyone's in your face trying to sell produce. My Spanish would have to be on steroids. I simply didn't understand the inner workings. Finally, I mustered up the courage to visit one of the local markets with my close Colombian friend here.  Man, by the end, we were both ready to throw a peach at someone.  Just rude.  However, my experience since November 2013, has been a night-and-day difference.

There is another open-air market close to my apartment, and I forced myself to give it a round two. The friendly, helpful vendors there have officially won me over.   In the past nine months, I have developed some really unique relationships with the ladies here that I will always treasure as part of my experience here in Ecuador.  

I just got back from Chile about a month ago, and I brought a few special chocolates back for my friends at the market.  There is one lady in particular (Norma) and her 8-year-old daughter (Raquel) who have stolen a piece of my heart, and rightfully so.  The majority of my time is with Norma because Raquel is obviously in school during the day. Honestly, between almost two hour conversations with Norma & her always giving me free potatoes, haba beans, peas & inviting me to have some juice with her -- she is one of the most generous, open-hearted people I know here in Ecuador.  Today's trip to the market was no exception.

I arrived and was greeted with hugs.  I mean, come on, that's enough right there.  Afterwards, I was told that Raquel wanted to tell me something.  And this is how it went: "Isa, thank you so much for the chocolates.  The white chocolate was by far my favorite.  You are so sweet for thinking of me and my mom."  That right there melted my heart.  She had obviously practiced this "thank you" based on her little hands folded in front of her and her sweet but rehearsed tone of voice. She continued with, "I would like next week to invite you and your friends to some ice cream and a walk along the river."  The mom followed up with explaining to me that she wanted to use her allowance that she gets on a weekly basis to treat us to a delicious afternoon of ice cream.  I didn't know how to respond verbally to the generosity of this amazing 8-year-old.  All I could do was hug her and say that we would love to.

I am definitely taking some notes about sincere generosity from this beautiful child.
I feel most days that I am more blessed than being a blessing. 

"You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give." 

Make 'Em Laugh

Sometimes, it's quite the challenge to get a hearty laugh out of the locals here in Cuenca. It isn't that they aren't friendly; I just don't think laughing out loud in public places is a cultural concept here, which is simply mind-boggling to this giddy gringa.  Therefore, instead of feeling frustrated by the lackluster, I am determined to infuse, enrich, and instill this population with a bit more joy, a bit more laughter, a bit more love of life.

Most of the time my cheesy jokes don't quite achieve the full-on laughter I seek -- you know those deep belly laughs that make you laugh in return.  For this precise reason, I have had to resort to more extreme measures lately.  Today was a great example of such.

*At the open-air market 10 de agosoto*

We were looking for some beautiful, plump oranges today, and by golly, after walking up and down a few aisles we spotted the perfect ones.  More importantly, this particular lady selling the oranges obviously had some impeccable taste in music, as her Salsa music animated my feet into motion.  I looked at my dear three American friends who I was with, and I said to them, "Okay, I think I have a great idea to get a laugh out of this vendor."  So, I went right up to her and said, "Good afternoon!  How much are your beautiful oranges?"  She replied, "They are three for a dollar."  I said, "Uff. That's a little much.  Couldn't it be four oranges for a dollar?"  At this point in our interaction, I poked her side gently a few times with my elbow as I stated, "Listen, if you give me the four oranges for a dollar, I promise to give you the best Salsa dance right here at your stand."  There was that hearty laugh!  There it came!  But no, it doesn't stop there. I convinced my girl friends to dance Salsa with me right there in the market.  And so we did.  We even did side-to-side, front-to-back, and some lovely turns just to add to the zest of our show.  My friends rock the world.

As she handed us our four oranges, she said, "You ladies dance so wonderfully."  We smiled and said, "Have a great day,"  with the last phrase coming from my goofy mouth: "Stay tuned for our next show. Coming soon."  Yet another dynamic laugh resounded! :)

So in the wise words of Donald O'Connor from "Singin' in the Rain"....  
MAKE 'EM LAUGH. Enjoy life a little more.

Equilateral, Isosceles or Scalene?

A very wise friend told me something recently that ended up encouraging me during my visit back home to the USA and my subsequent arrival back to South America. He said, "Let's pretend that the United States is a square culture.  You were born, raised, and drenched in being that square.  Now, you decide to dedicate your life and passion to the Latino culture; we'll say they are the circle culture.  You have been in-between these two cultures for the past 10 years -- whether in your studies, friendships or travelings. Finally, after all these years, you feel like you are not completely a square anymore and yet you will never completely be a circle either.  Therefore, because of the progression of events, you all of a sudden are this unique triangle, trying to constantly figure out your place between the two cultures."  And you know, the most encouraging part of this real-life analogy is that I've come to accept that it's okay to be that triangle. Actually, it's quite a beautiful thing, although rather challenging and confusing at times.  I am a triangle. I accept my triangle-ness.  

Great Reminder

“The truly patient man neither complains of his hard lot nor desires to be pitied by others. He speaks of his sufferings in a natural, true, and sincere way, without murmuring, complaining, or exaggerating them.” 

In my 10-hour layover in Miami, I finished reading a book about the 18-year kidnapping & imprisonment of Jaycee Dugard, who only was 11 at the time in which it happened (“A Stolen Life”).  It expounded upon her continual sex slave status, her two pregnancies during being a captive, and the overall mental manipulation endured.  After finishing this heart wrenching book and bawling my eyes out in the airport cafe, I am convinced of three things:

(1)   There are some SICK people in this world.  No apparent logic.  No conscience.  No heart.  Of course, I knew this, but this book only illustrates this point further. 

(2)  I am amazed at how much the human spirit can survive such inhumaneness.  You should read this woman’s story, if only on Wikipedia.  She has moved ahead, written this successful memoir, and is trying to regain strength to enjoy life in a whole new way. 

(3)  I am ashamed about how much we complain about not-life-or-death matters.  “OMG, my cell phone isn’t working” (at least you have a cell phone) or “My teenagers are so misbehaved all the time” (at least you were able to conceive in the first place, at least they are still safe in your arms) or “This food is disgusting, makes me want to gag” (you probably have three meals a day, no?) or “I can’t believe I have so many essays to complete.  No social life possible.” (SO guilty here. But at least I had a chance to pursue an education – I had the financial support, the time, and the opportunity.)  Humans as a whole need to learn to be content right where we are, with exactly what we have.  We must live life without grumbling or complaining, especially when so many others in the world live with much less and in much worse, unimaginable circumstances.  Before negativity and pessimism overtake my words, I really need to weigh my problem.  Life or death?  Just breathe, Kerrie Isabel, no words necessary. Just oxygen.

Great reminder to me, my life & my current obstacles.

May I have a heart of compassion.  May I see the needs of others.

May I not complain about the minor problems that invade on a daily basis.

May I continually cultivate an attitude of gratitude.

Melodious Howling?

Written: 05-12-2013

So if you're not even slightly okay with noise, it isn't recommended that you live in a Latin American country. Perfect example is as follows.  Today is Mother's Day, and to welcome in the day, at 12:30am until 1:30am, there was a loud speaker set up two doors down, conducting the traditional serenade in honor of the special day. I cannot begin to express how painfully flat the daughter was in the midst of her musical dedication.  It progressed to the point where my physical cringing transformed into laughter.  It wasn't necessarily that I was laughing at her; it was more of a laughter of utter pity for the three block radius that had to endure such loud belting. I will not negate in the least that each word was sincere and heartfelt.  She, indeed, was expressing such immense appreciate and gratitude for all that her mother had done in her life.  However, can we not express this at a more conducive hour to my bedtime? Neither the pillow-over-my-head technique nor the two hard-core earplugs could deter those sound waves.

This morning, dead on my butt may I add, I was still giggling to myself about the Mother's Day insanity.  And then I was humbled all of a sudden, at the breakfast table nonetheless. In the Bible, it simply states to make a joyful noise unto the Lord (Psalm 98, 100). Nothing more, nothing less.  It doesn't declare being in tune and melodious (to the human ear); it declares sincere and pure intentions (for the Lord).  The Lord clearly spoke to my heart that we must develop a profound appreciation for His goodness, faithfulness, and provision --  that same gratitude unfolded in the daughter's song.  The same vulnerability and wild abandonment to sing of the Lord's works, no matter how it may sound to those around us.

So, instead of me laughing to no end about her horrendous vocal cords, I should instead take last night as a lesson to my life.  To end the morning's epiphany, it was if the Lord said, "Hey, Isabel, I hear your heart, and nothing more.  If I were to merely listen to the musicality of your song, how could I even begin to compare it to the choir of heavenly angels around me? Hmm?  I want your heart. I want you."

Thank you, horribly off-key woman, for the revelation.