Rachel goes to Ecuador

in which i will talk about ecuador, how scared i am to go to ecuador, what happens to me in ecuador, and if i decide never to come back and spend my life studying turtles in the galapagos. or something. follow if you like/want to know about my travels.

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Choose your own adventure


This is it: I’ve got less than two weeks left in this country, a twenty page paper to write, and two presentations in Spanish.

This is the part where the St. Catherine University (SCU) community collectively rolls its eyes at me and does the ever-familiar finals one-up. “Really, Rachel? You’ve got one twenty page paper to write? That`s funny, because I have two papers and two cumulative final exams and a presentation about cellular structures. Oh, and they’ve taken away study Monday.”

I get it. You`re busy. But bear with me for another 500 words, and power through another week and then you can eat your own weight in holiday goodies while watching Love Actually. At least that`s what I plan to do.

I`m not going to lie: I’m excited to go home. Sometimes I worry that I’ve done study abroad wrong somehow, because sometimes I can`t sleep at night thinking about the particular look on my parents’ faces when I meet them in the airport. I can`t wait to bake cookies with my little brother, see my best friend, sit through inane marathons of America`s Next Top Model, and be swarmed by my cousins when I step into my grandparents’ house.

Quito is too busy for me. I`m ready for sleepy Minnesota cities, everyone wrapped up warm for the winter. But then, every once and a while, in all my griping about getting yelled at on the street, about the buses and the traffic and the near constant feeling of insecurity, Ecuador surprises me.

Last week, I traveled to Las Cascadas San Rafael, the largest waterfalls in the country. I´d had a bad week, Quito had gotten the best of me, and I remember standing on a cliff looking over these falls thinking, along with some expletives, “This is amazing.”

Last night, I ventured to Parque Carolina for a concert. This week is the Festivals of Quito, which means, in addition to all the teenagers out drinking beer on the sidewalks, there are concerts, shows, and about every kind of street performance you could ask for. I stood in the crowd, base pounding heavily in my chest and thought, again, “This is amazing.”

There’s a piece of advice from a friend back in Minnesota that I turn to a lot here. “I know you’re worried about the language and the internship and the family and the altitude sickness but you should know that even if all of those things go just as badly as you’re afraid they might, you’re still somewhere you’ve never been before with people you’ve never met before.”

While I’ve gotten over the altitude sickness, I`m still worried about the language barrier. I’m scared my default in words has led to a default in relationships with my host family, with my Ecuadorian friends, and my co-workers at El Churo. But, as my Yoda-esque friend says, I`m still somewhere brand new. So, in my last two weeks in Quito, I`m going to try to resist the urge to bury myself in my final project and give the proverbial finger to this all-too-busy city.

There are still a few adventures to be had.

Filed under ooops i though i'd posted this already quito ecuador study abroad the wheel student newspaper

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“It`s a tradition!”

On my second day at my internship I sat in a studio at Public Radio of Quito while my supervisors discussed bullfighting, a tradition that happens every year during the Festivals of Quito. The political discussion  was way beyond my level of Spanish at the time and I remember taking notes such as:

  • Google toreador
  • They wanted me to introduce myself on air? Are they crazy?
  • That caller was not happy
  • Google: forcado, pega, picadores
  • Also: Google how to speak Spanish
  • I´m in way over my head



Their discussion focused on bullfighting in Ecuador and why it is considered a tradition. Each year on the Dec. 6 Quiteños celebrate the founding of their city, the capital of Ecuador. Quito, or as it is officially called, San Francisco de Quito, was founded in 1534 by Spanish conquistadors on the ruins of the Inca capital, Kitu. Bullfighting in Quito has it´s roots  in the city´s colonial identity, brought to South America by the Spanish  conquistadors.

While tourist shops and travel sites proclaim bullfighting a celebration of the country´s colonial roots, many groups argue that it is merely a manifestation of colonization and globalization, a celebration imposed by Spain that holds little significance in comparison to the influence of Ecuador´s native Andean culture.

Veronica and Jorge, my supervisors, were talking about this tension as well as the aspect of animal cruelty implicit in such a tradition. Animal rights groups in Ecuador have been working to elimate this spectical for years, arguing that killing of animals in public spaces not only constitutes animal cruelty, but infringes on the rights of those citizens of Quito who do not agree with bullfighting, those who would rather not see an animal slaughtered as the crowd cheers.

There are quite obviously arguments on both sides of this issue. While Veronica and Jorge discussed this on air, a man called in saying basically, “If you don´t like it, don´t watch. It´s that simple.”

Veronica´s response was something I wont quickly forget. She spoke calmly about how the use of public space is relational and historical. In other words, what happens in public spaces determines how citizens inhabiting and interacting in those spaces will act. If public spaces in Ecuador are used in a way that promotes a culture of violence, that culture of violence—and the authoritative  stamp of approval implicit in such a public display of violence—will translate to citizens´ interactions with each other.

The caller vehemently disagreed, but the discussion (or at least what I could understand of the discussion) gave me a few things to think about. As a manifestation of colonization, animal cruelty or an accepted, public display of violence, I can clearly see why there are those opposed to this supposed tradition. Indeed, because of their work the bulls are no longer killed in public. The toreadors complete all the steps necessary for a bullfight, but don´t deliver the killing blow in front of the crowd. The uproar surrounding this decision by those who argued for tradition merely shows what is important to the ritual: not the process itself, the dance of the bull and the toreado, but the aspect of death.

The Festivals of Quito are coming up in less than a month and a  few of my friends are planning to attend the bullfights in Ibarra. While “It´s a tradition!” is usually a phrase that will get me out of the house—try everything once, right?—this is one tradition I´ll be purposefully skipping out on.

Filed under bullfighting traditions ecuador festivals de quito

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Back home in Quito


Happy International Issue! Getting an email from my editors reading:”this is the International Issue, so try to do something internationally themed!” not only cracked me up, as I am the International columnist, living internationally in Ecuador, but gave me a certain amount of anxiety about what to write about for this column.

A few weeks ago when I was still doing my best to convince myself that Ecuador was a good idea and that I hadn´t just tricked myself into thinking I was brave, a friend told me she had absolutely hated her study abroad experience until she traveled outside Ghana and then returned. It was almost like coming home, she said. Almost.

Unlocking my host family´s door at 5:30 am after a 10 hour bus ride from Cuenca, Ecuador this morning felt oddly similar. Granted, my creaky bed here isn´t the one I bought second-hand out of the newspaper when I was 10, and Cookie, the family´s dog is not my lovably overweight cat, Oliver. But still, slipping between worn sheets in the early morning gave me the same feeling of contentment that I get late at night in my own home: my family sleeping soundly, the house settling familiarly.

My homecoming wouldn´t have been quite so wonderful if my attempted vacation to Cuenca hadn´t been such a complete disaster. Note to all future travelers: book your hostel in advance. I spent most of my five day trip on buses, asking at hostels and hotels for rooms, and setting a new baseline for travel anxiety. There were mess-ups and mix-ups and in the end I got on a bus to return to Quito three days earlier than I`d planned, looking forward to eating my host mom`s familiar seco de pollo and having a place to sleep at night.

Driving through the deserted 5 am streets of Quito I saw roads I recognized, restaurants I`ve been to, bus stops I`ve waited at. Pulling into the station in Quito felt ordinary, and I haven´t been so relieved to be some place familiar since I saw my family again after my first month away at St. Kate`s.

Back in the normality of Quito, it feels odd to write about something with an “international” theme. As of right now, I`m just grateful to be back in the only internet cafe open this late—machines chained to the desk, smell of smoke and all.

On my flight into Quito in September I had a moment just before landing when I asked myself, “What am I doing? Who in the world throws themselves so completely into unfamiliarity?” Talking with other SCU students thinking about studying abroad, this is a common question. I`ve never thought of myself as terribly quick on my feet, but the fact that I had to think so hard about what to write worthy of the International Issue just proves how quickly I`ve acclimated to life here. While it seems like it`s been a long time, in reality, it hasn`t been long. After two months, the Guaguas de pan in the shops—bread baked at decorated to look like babies for Dia de los Muertos—are now as normal to me as my mom`s Seven Layer Bars during the holiday season (insert Minnesotan joke here. At least I didn`t mention Goulash). Nescafe has replaced my usual morning cup of coffee, and I find myself replacing English words with Spanish without meaning to.

Leaving home is scary. I`m not going to lie and say I`m an adventurer or that I`m some kind of brave. While it still seems a crazy to me right now, I can`t imagine not having left Minnesota. So if you`re thinking about studying abroad, do it. Leave and be clueless for a while, make mistakes, get on the wrong bus, order the wrong food, over-pay for chocolate, write in seedy internet cafes, meet people, be scared. It`s worth it.

Happy International Issue everyone. As for now, I`m heading home for a cup of hot cocoa and a good book.

Filed under The Wheel student newspaper International issue Cuenca Quito Ecuador home