I tripped and fell, and everything went into slow motion. Paul stepped back, tripped over me, and fell himself. I reverted into myself and let my instincts take over. Here I was, in front of an audience of Ecuadorian students, performing a play in Spanish, falling on my ass and day-dreaming at the same time. Then Paul and I got up, and the scene continued without a hitch. I feel like this incident pretty much sums up my last couple weeks.
Ever since the Galapagos trip, my time in Ecuador has gone downhill rather than up. I don’t mean that’s gotten worse, but that in that time we’ve gone from looking forward to more time in Ecuador to looking towards the end of the program and home. I’ve been going through this process, like the others in my program, with final papers and exams being thrown at me every which way. Contrary to popular belief, there is some actually “studying” involved in studying abroad (but not that much).
I’ve also had the pleasure of performing in a play with the theater group at the university where I study, which has been an incredibly enriching experience. It’s helped my Spanish a lot and I’ve been able to really connect with a group of Ecuadorian students. The play is a Spanish translation of Shakespeare’s “The Comedy of Errors” (“La Comedia de Equivocaciones”) and I play a guard/official. I have seven lines, and in one scene, I hold a giant spear. My gringo friends have all come out to see the show to support me, and to laugh at me even when I’m not doing something funny.
All of these factors have added up to a constant state of dream for the last couple weeks. I have been sleeping quite a bit as well, especially since I was robbed about a week ago and therefore have no cell phone (and hence no alarm clock). I’ve been thinking a lot about what my experience here has taught me and what my transition to life in the States will be like. There’s really nothing concrete, but I definitely feel I’ve gained some maturity, confidence, and world perspective in my time here.
I recently finished the book Reading Lolita in Tehran, the memoirs of Iranian literature professor Azar Nafisi. In it she discusses her decision to leave Tehran, saying: “You get a strange feeling when you leave a place…like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and place, because you’ll never be this way again.”
I’ll certainly miss the close friends I’ve made here in Ecuador, both American and Ecuadorian, and I hope I can find a way to see them again sometime in the future. But I’ve also become comfortable here. I’ve learned how to take buses that never come to complete stops, how to dance like a fool in Quito’s nightclubs, and how to deal with Ecuadorian norms with regard to public urination. I feel like I know Quito better than I know most parts of Los Angeles. I’m definitely ready to go home, but I know that a certain part of me will always be here in Ecuador.
That being said, I’m not going home right away. My program ends May 17th, and that night some friends and I will begin traveling south, eventually reaching Ecuador’s third largest city, Cuenca. On the 22nd, I’ll head to the coastal city of Guayaquil, where I’ll catch a flight to Cusco, Peru. I’ll spend the next two and a half weeks backpacking solo around Peru. My itinerary isn’t etched in stone, but I hope to visit the famous ruins at Machu Picchu, Lake Titicaca, the city of Arequipa and the marvelous Colca Canyon, as well as the Peruvian Andes. I’ll be doing most of my travel by bus, heading north to Quito, where I’ll be leaving my luggage. It should be quite an adventure: it’s about 1700 miles from Cusco to Quito. That’s about the distance from Los Angeles to Des Moines, Iowa.
I’ll be taking plenty of pictures and I’ll update this blog once I return. For those of you who’d like to follow me along the way, I’ll be posting my current location and micro-updates on my Twitter feed, @msalintweeto.
Below, some photos of the play.
Que les vaya super bien,
Miguel




































