I'll admit it...I've been a little bit homesick the last couple of days. I woke up on Saturday a little bit sad and wishing that I was waking up in well-known Boise instead of tropical Ecuador. Don't get me wrong, I really am loving the experience that is Ecuador and school has been keeping me so busy that the days are speeding by. It is only when things slowed down that I started thinking about home and all the people that we have left there. I think part of my homesickness stems from the fact that Dave and I are trying so hard to adjust to actually living in South America.
Daily experiences of life, like ordering food or going to the grocery store, are hurdles that Dave and I are constantly trying to jump over. Tasks that we used to do without a second thought, I now approach with trepidation. We tried to find the milk and eggs the other day, not expecting them to be on the shelf. We need a Spanish/English dictionary every time we cook and I notice that I just say "si" when I don't understand what people are saying to me, resulting in extra things being ordered or even ordering the entirely wrong thing.
People have been so patient with me, slowing down in their speech to help me better understand but the look of total confusion doesn't ever seem to leave my face. It's exhausting, and not to be a complete whiner, but I just missed the ease of living in a place that is familiar and where I understand and know the customs and the language.
So....Dave had the perfect idea to give me a little piece of home in Ecuador.
On one of his many solitary adventures, which you can read about on his blog, he discovered a perfect place for mountain biking that is right outside of our gated community. I was a little apprehensive at first but he insisted it would make me feel better. As soon as I began the climb up the first hill, I could feel my body relax into performing a task it knew exactly how to accomplish. There was no second guessing, no confusion over a misheard instruction or question, just the ease of changing gears, finding my own pace as I worked my way up the mountain, and the glorious feel of sweat that was not caused by the sun.
Before I knew it, we were looking over the entire city of Guayaquil. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and I couldn't wipe the grin off of my face. I think I can make this place home after all.
Daily experiences of life, like ordering food or going to the grocery store, are hurdles that Dave and I are constantly trying to jump over. Tasks that we used to do without a second thought, I now approach with trepidation. We tried to find the milk and eggs the other day, not expecting them to be on the shelf. We need a Spanish/English dictionary every time we cook and I notice that I just say "si" when I don't understand what people are saying to me, resulting in extra things being ordered or even ordering the entirely wrong thing.
People have been so patient with me, slowing down in their speech to help me better understand but the look of total confusion doesn't ever seem to leave my face. It's exhausting, and not to be a complete whiner, but I just missed the ease of living in a place that is familiar and where I understand and know the customs and the language.
So....Dave had the perfect idea to give me a little piece of home in Ecuador.
On one of his many solitary adventures, which you can read about on his blog, he discovered a perfect place for mountain biking that is right outside of our gated community. I was a little apprehensive at first but he insisted it would make me feel better. As soon as I began the climb up the first hill, I could feel my body relax into performing a task it knew exactly how to accomplish. There was no second guessing, no confusion over a misheard instruction or question, just the ease of changing gears, finding my own pace as I worked my way up the mountain, and the glorious feel of sweat that was not caused by the sun.
Before I knew it, we were looking over the entire city of Guayaquil. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and I couldn't wipe the grin off of my face. I think I can make this place home after all.