Sunday, October 12, 2008

Sensation

Life looks like...

children in school uniforms; beat up and ripped soccer balls; brightly painted canchas (paved soccer fields) and schools; acres of cane houses strewn among swampy standing water and dirt roads; cattle, chickens, and mangled stray dogs; smoke rising from piles of burning trash; dark skinned, dark eyed Ecuadorian faces; kids running toward you with open arms about to hug you; sunsets that set the world on fire; Manos kids walking down the dirt roads back to their cane homes at 5pm with the glow of the pre-setting sun sanctifying them; broken crayons and eraser-less pencils; cursive handwriting; unsuccessful attempts at copying letters by kids who unjustly have been given up on by Ecua-education; students in blue polo shirts at Santiago; pregnant girls and women; very small babies being help by their mothers; people of all ages selling things on buses and on the streets; constant dust in the house blown in from the streets; torn, misfitted clothing; cheap jewelry and tacky tight shirts; tiny black sandals with rainbow straps worn nearly every kid; blue cane church in 28 de Agosto; graph paper; multiplication table on the back of notebooks


Life feels like...

small hands holding mine; tiny underweight children hanging onto you wanting to be carried and held; bumpy bus rides and metal seats; cold showers; never really feeling clean; the unique stomachache and intestinal problems that can only be caused by parasites and worms dying inside of you; scorching heat and sweating all over; sitting in tiny kid chairs at Manos; getting hit in the face with a soccer ball; people leaning against you on the morning busride to work; dirty hands and dirty ankles; breeze from a ceiling fan; hugs from community mates; kiss on the cheek to greet people; plastic chairs; the lack of softness of clothes that are hung to dry


Life smells like...

burning trash; amazing cooking; unbathed children; bleach and dish soap; banana bread in the oven; laundry detergent; gasoline and exhaust; lunch preparations at Santiago; port-a-potty smell on the street corner of Santiago


Life sounds like...

kids laughter; 30 seconds of silence at Manos; rolled r´s and Spanish everything; constant latin music flowing through the streets; ¡mano! during soccer games; buses and cars passing; ¡hola niña!¿cómo estás?; my own stumbling through Spanish; in dept conversations about the pillars and mission of RdC; awkward silences when visiting neighbors; ¡elisa!; señoriiiiita, ayudameeeee; a constant whiny tone of voice that is a cultural norm yet still vaguely annoying; young adults singing and playing guitar at mass; the horrendous Barney song in Spanish played by ice cream trucks passing by


Life tastes like...

room temperature water; rice & beans; fried plantains; juicy, fresh pineapple; lentils; green peppers, tomatos, and onions; lime; hot, sweet, fresh bread; lemon lime popsicles for 5 cents in 28 de Agosto; listerine; bananas; instant coffee; honey tea; cinnamon and brown sugar in oatmeal

2 comments:

Emily Martucci said...

this is awesome. it really makes me feel like i'm there with you. i'm probably going to have to steal this idea at some point soon...

Jenn said...

ditto on what emily said...i hope you don't mind if i steal the idea too...i feel like i can relate so well to some of what you said sometimes i forgot i was reading about ecuador and not nicaragua...miss youuu!