It is hard to believe that it is already week three. Today I went with my school to what’s called “teleférico.” It’s a system of cable cars that ascend Pinchincha, the mountain my province is named after. The cable car ride was pretty amazing. Although it was pretty warm at the base of Pinchincha, once we dismounted from the cable car, it was windy and cold. After we arrived at the cable car landing, we hiked the path further up the mountain for a few hours. Breathing was rather difficult at times, both because the hike was quite rigorous, and because the atmosphere was a bit less populated with oxygen. The struggle for respiration was completely worth it, though. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The only bad result from this trip is that my ears are currently so burnt I think they shall soon fall off.

Cultural mishap dos: last night, right before dinner, my host mom gave me a spoonful of something to taste. The flavor was quite good, but the texture was a mite squishy. And I really can’t take squishy. It is for this reason that I abhor mushrooms. I was polite, however, and told them that it was really good (I wasn’t lying, because I really did like the flavor.) It was then that my host parents proceeded to tell me that the dish that I had just partaken of was chicken hearts and all other manner of chicken entrails. I pretended not to be almost sick. However, when they asked me if I wanted some for dinner, I decided to risk being thought impertinent, and politely said “no.” My host parents thought it was absolutely hilarious. My host mom had anticipated this, because she knew that we don’t generally consume entrails in the US, and had already prepared me an alternative dish. I believe that from now on I will conduct a thorough investigation of all edibles before I ingest them. J

I’ve now been here for over a week, and am beginning to adjust. For instance, I no longer fear that I’ll get lost on my way to or from school. I know how not to get ripped off by a taxi driver. I know to immediately grab the handles inside the bus, because as soon as you have one foot inside, it’s moving again. I’m also making some pretty cool friends.

Quito is gorgeous. It’s surrounded by the towering, snow-capped Andes. The city itself is constructed in a valley, but is so hilly that it could probably make San Francisco look really flat. It’s also much larger than I had imaged. Although not extremely wide, it’s almost forty-seven kilometers long!

God has really blessed me with a very kind and hospitable host family, really great professors, and good friends. Oh yeah, and wireless internet J.

So far I’ve gotten to do some pretty crazy stuff. I got to climb some extremely precarious ladders to an awesome vantage point in a tower of the Basilica in Colonial Quito. I got to stand simultaneously on the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, as well as balance an egg upright on the head of a nail at La Mitad Del Mundo. I got to try at least ten different fruits that, up to this point, I never knew existed. I got to eat at an Afghan restaurant (in Quito).

I know you are all eagerly awaiting to hear of the cultural faux pas that I have thus far committed. And hear you shall. Last week I went to take a shower, and I turned on the knob that had a red “H” written on it. It occurred to me that it could be written in Spanish, but I thought that since this was the guest room in which they host foreign students, it was probably in English. Besides, “Frio” starts with an “F.” I waited a couple of minutes, but much to my chagrin, the water never warmed up. I knew I had no choice. I took the coldest shower I’ve ever taken in my life; the water was literally so icy it hurt. The next day, with my mangled Spanish, I managed to convey what had happened to my host mom. As she attempted to hold back her laughter, she proceeded to tell me that the “H” stood for “Hielo,” which means “Ice.” Why it was written in red shall forever remain a mystery.

I'm here!

After over a year of waiting, I'm finally here in Quito. All of the nervousness and uncertainty that I never felt in anticipation of this trip finally hit me as I deboarded my flight and went through customs and immigration. Thus far, my foreign travels have not extended beyond the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. The realization that I was alone in a foreign country, that speaks a language other than my own, was a bit disconcerting. Fortunately, over the past two days, many of my qualms have been dissolving. Right now, the major problem that I face is, not surpisingly, the language barrier. Being fully aware that my Spanish had much improvement to undergo, I had prepared myself to experience difficulty when trying to communicate. I often feel as if I were watching a silent film: their lips are moving, but I have no idea what they are saying! Worse yet is the fact that I can understand much more than I can speak, so it's quite frustrating to have many things to say, but no words to formulate them. I must say, however, that I have perfected the "smile and nod"!