The New Reality and Beyond; My Last Post for Now

A new reality has begun for us all.  For me, it started on March 16th.  On this day, I left Ecuador, learned that I was relieved of my Peace Corps service (which means they were relieved of responsibility for me), and I was sent back to the United States with two months transitional health insurance and the inability to apply for unemployment insurance (although Congress is now trying to change that).  No purpose.  No official home.  And no end date for this craziness.  No different than many of you, except for one thing, I'm trying to adjust to this reality in a whole new culture.

In February, I attended our Peace Corps "Close of Service" Conference with many sessions regarding our end-of-service reports.  I was feeling so thankful that I could put these off for another year since I was planning on extending my service until 2021.  Several sessions also spoke to the true realities of reverse cultural shock we were all going to experience upon our eventual return to the United States.  Many thousands of previously Returned Peace Corps Volunteers have spoken and written empathetically about this surprise.  After all, we already adjusted to a completely different country with different languages, customs, culture and communication patterns... returning to what we know and grew up in will certainly be easier, right?  Not so, they say.  For some, returning can be just as hard of a jolt and it often takes between six months to a year to cycle through the stages of frustration, adjustment and acceptance.  The proverbial grass is always greener, so they say.

I listened to these presentations with only half an ear.  I longed to return to the US for just a visit, to see beloved family and friends again.  But there has also been a knowing slowly growing in my heart; South America could be my home for awhile.  Peace Corps has been a wonderful security blanket for me, enabling me to gain confidence in speaking Spanish, teach to all grade levels including the university, find a community and support system, prospect for future job opportunities, and dream about the possibilities of living abroad.  I didn't expect to have to face a US cultural re-entry process for a long time to come.

And yet, here I am.  I'm so lucky to have landed at my brother and sister-in-law's in Elgin, Illinois, my home town.  But I've barely left the neighborhood since I arrived... which suits me fine.  Yes, there's this dangerous pandemic out there, and I'm following the stay-at-home orders as I should.  But it's also the first time I've returned to Elgin since my parent's death, so the home quarantine is affording me a softer landing.  There's much I don't feel the need to see or experience yet.  Just being in this house, meeting "Alexa", listening to the news, and watching the over-packaged and processed food arrive after someone's braved a store (and the prices!), is enough of a culture shock right now.

On the positive side, I'm enjoying many things again in the US:

--There's a magical machine called a dryer.  You put your clothes in, and they come out 30 minutes later smelling warm and fresh.  That's amazing.

--Ice cubes and water come out the front of a refrigerator.  I don't have to buy bottled water and I don't have to boil it.  And it's culturally acceptable to put ice cubes in everything.  That's lovely.

--There is a change in seasons.  I love that I've gotten to play in snow again, and I'm experiencing the first blooms of spring.  I'm also paying close attention to the sun as it is setting a little later each day.  That's such a gift after living in a permanent 6am-6pm cycle.

--Animals are inside.  It's nice to have the family dog on my lap.

--There's wide open spaces, parks and wetlands within this neighborhood.  I love walking among the Oaks and listening to the Red-Wing Blackbirds, the Robins and the Morning Doves.

--It's culturally acceptable to walk around my house and yard barefoot.  I really missed that.

--There's GOOD pizza- and it can be delivered right to your door!  Amazing!

--There's a variety of flavors of food.  Just this week, we've had Indian, Asian, Mediterranean and Mexican as well as many guilty pleasures such as creamy ice cream, chips and salsa and almond butter.  Yum!

--Speaking aloud doesn't send me into an anxious panic every time I open my mouth.  Here, I can speak in English.  Movies and news are in English, too.  I understand everything!  It's such a relief!

--And ofcourse, after so many years of living in a different state and abroad, I'm getting to spend time with my wonderful US family again.


It's true, my list of modern wonders is short... because I lived in a fairly well-developed country.  I can't even imagine if I was a returning volunteer from the far reaches of Asia or Africa.  Their lists are undoubtedly much longer.

At the same time, there are things I miss about Ecuador:
Obviously fresh fruit and vegetables, mountains of it, all around.  Here, tropical fruit comes in plastic and I learned that you can buy avocado in frozen chunks.  (That immediately triggered the 4 stages of culture shock as I gaped into the freezer!)

But really, I miss my Ecuadorian family and I miss the people.  Ecuadorians take time in their life to be present in their relationships and enjoy life to the fullest.  They are so kind and generally go out of their way to include you in, share what they have and make everyone in their community better together.  They just live their life laughing.  It's a way of being that spoke to me deeply.

So here I sit, feeling lucky for what I have and happy to have the time to do some planning... after all, it only took four days before a few people started asking, "What's next?"

Peace Corps has stated that they would like to re-instate volunteers and send us back to our posts, but conceivably, it will not be until late fall or winter before the green light is given.  And, they haven't said whether or not they would start the clock fresh to honor my planned third year, or only the few months remaining in my original contract.  So, at this point, I have no idea whether I will be able to return to my service in Ecuador.

Peace Corps has done a very good job setting up webinars and informational briefings for us all to find government jobs and improve our employment chances in the private sector.  And ofcourse, I could be a teacher in the US again.  All of these are options and I've spent considerable time thinking about them.  But if I've learned anything in my past two years, I've learned that the Universe is going to take care of me, so I might as well do what I really want to do... and my gut is clearly telling me to enjoy this time to re-root and re-connect, and then, when it's over, carry on with my plans.

Over the past year, an idea has been sprouting: After finishing my service, I planned to use my end-of-service payout to backpack and work my way around South America.  Afterwards, I would like to find an international teaching job somewhere to settle down, save money, and live the life of an Expat- at least for awhile.  Covid-19 might be screwing up my timeline, but nothing is telling me that I should change this plan.  Life is short.  I'm still young at heart.  South America offers a good quality life for a much cheaper price.  And, for the foreseeable future, it's where I want to be.

So, I'm happily spending the stay-in-place order researching visas and teaching opportunities, practicing Spanish, and dreaming for adventures to come.  And when social restraints start loosening - before I fly south - I hope to spread my wings, flit a little around the US, and maybe, if you ask, come visit you!



Dear Readers, 

This will be my last Blog post for awhile... but only for awhile.  I look forward to restarting our conversation when my adventures continue beyond these four walls.  Until then, thank you for joining my journey and giving me an audience for my thoughts.  My Ecuadorian experience was shaped tremendously by the writing of this Blog; the need to dig deeper, understand more and process all that I was living.  You have no idea how much I appreciate you and how, with you at my side, I'm always a little braver to jump into whatever life has to offer.  Your encouragement and support has meant the world to me. 

Until we meet again, be well my friends.  
Qué le vaya bien.
-Becky

Home... Is it Really Where the Heart Is?

As I sit down to write this post, it's really cold outside.  My clothes are in a dryer, I'm sipping a LaCroix bubbly water out of a can, and my breakfast fruit came from a plastic tub shipped from thousands of miles away.  And, I can't seem to remember where to put the toilet paper! My life is suddenly so different.  How did I get here?  And how to even begin telling this sad story; the abrupt ending to my Peace Corps experience?  Let's start at the point when Covid-19 made my life crazy.


Sunday, March 15, 8:00 am
Jose knocked on my door early in the morning to offer my friend and I a ride to Otavalo's Indigenous Market.
"She's already gone." I replied.
"Qué paso?!"  "What happened?"

I stood in the hallway recounting for him a crazy night with my friend Katie.  Seven days prior, she had flown to Ecuador from Anchorage, Alaska to spend 10 days with me.  I really tried to show her around, but just the day before, as we had attempted to enjoy the sights of my city, Ibarra, everything started to close around us and the streets, parks and plazas were empty.  The fear of the Coronavirus was starting to finger its way into my life.  That evening in my room, I read in several news bulletins that the airport would be closing to any inbound tourists as of Monday night.  The presumption was that if flights weren't allowed to enter with passengers, they weren't going to continue to take passengers out of the country either.
"Katie," I said, "we've got to get you out of this country now!"

So, after two hours of middle-of-the-night searching through airline websites and having flights sold out from under her, she was able to buy a plane ticket.  I convinced a friend of mine to drive her to the airport at 5:30am.  By the time Jose knocked at my door the next morning, she was long gone.

"Chuta," which is more or less the equivalent of "Shit."

Sunday, March 15, Noon
Later in the day, my site-mates, Kendall and Alex, texted our group of local volunteers to say that since they were only two weeks from officially ending their service, they had asked Peace Corps permission to leave the country early in light of the potential shut-downs.  Peace Corps finally found them a flight and they needed to be in Quito in about 7 hours.  They were frantically packing their apartment and were offering the rest of their belongings to other volunteers... since we were staying.  Jose and Margarita agreed to drive me to their apartment so I could pick up a chair, and they scored some shelves, a table, and a mattress, too.  On our way home, I was appreciating the fact that I wouldn't need to pack and leave in such a frenzied state.  After all, Peace Corps had already declared a "Stand Fast" which means I wasn't allowed to leave my city and strongly encouraged to stay in my home.  All schools had already been closed for several days.  There were only a few cases of the virus in Ecuador at this time.  Precautions were being taken.  It was going to be easy for me to ride out this craziness in my Ecuadorian home.

Sunday, March 15, 10:30 pm
I had just settled into my bed and thought I'd check my phone messages.  As I scrolled, messages started to explode from the screen.  "Start packing", "We're going home".

Wait... I'm not going "home".  I'm extending for a third year, I get to stay!

My phone rang.  It was my supervisor from Peace Corps.
Pack everything.  You're allowed two checked bags.  Be ready to leave by the morning.

"Noooooooo!"  I sobbed, I begged, I tried to reason.  "Don't make me go!"
"I'm sorry, Becky.  Pack everything.  All volunteers are evacuating Ecuador immediately."

I threw the phone down and dashed upstairs.  I could still hear the TV in Margarita and Jose's room so I knew they were still awake.  I banged on the door.  Margarita came running.
"Que pasó?"

"I have to return to the United States I have to pack my bags I have to go to Quito tomorrow I don't want to go I'm so sorry I don't want to go...." it all came out in gushing sobs on her shoulder.  The three of us stood in the doorway, holding each other, crying and shaking our heads together.

White privilege is such a mixed blessing.  I'm lucky I have a country and a government organization who are standing by their contract to take care of me at all costs.  But plucking me from this family and this country because it might not be safe enough for me during this pandemic is so unfair.  My life and health isn't more important than theirs.  My country definitely is not safer than theirs.  But if I choose to stay, my passport and my visa are revoked immediately.  I don't have a choice.  I have to go.  And it's up to me to explain to them why.  I'm so sorry.  I don't want to leave.

"Ay Becky", Margarita gasped.
"Chuta".  It's all Jose could say.

Sunday, March 15, 11:00 pm
I returned to my room and screamed.  How do I start dismantling my life?  After two years, what should I take?  What can I carry?  What should I leave for them?  What should I leave for others?  Margarita suggested I leave things behind, in case I can return.  But no, that's not fair to them.  It's their guest room to use or rent to others.  I needed to deal with it all.  So, knowing that I was first going to the cold climate of Chicago, but that I would reasonably be there into the warmth of summer, I packed a variety of my favorite clothes and left the others for Margarita and my cousins to sort through.  I boxed up all my toiletries, hair dryer, sleeping bag, and yoga mat for any of my family to use.  I made a box of gifts for Jose- mostly my newly imported Cliff Protein Bars for when his soccer games start up again.  Margarita's box included all my markers and teacher art supplies, a special book, some jewelry, and my old I-Phone.  For Pablo, I collected all of our games that we loved playing: Uno, Sorry, Checkers, Dominoes and the puzzles and books that I hadn't even gifted to him yet.  Oh Pablo!

Monday Morning, March 16
At 5:30 am, I laid down to power nap for 90 minutes.  When I awoke, Jose came in my room to tell me that whenever I had to report to Quito, he wanted to drive me.  I continued packing and waited for a call from Peace Corps.

I had a large packet of maps that had been brought from the US for me so that I could gift them to my small school.  I texted the Principal, and asked her to come by my house to pick them up and share my goodbyes with the teachers and students at the school.  We stood in the street and cried.

Margarita put out the word with the family and all morning long my extended family called or came by to tell me that I would always be apart of their family... their doors were always open... and they would wait for my return, hopefully soon.  It was so hard.

I Skyped my brother, explained in sobs that Peace Corps was flying me to Chicago and I had nowhere else to go.  Please?  Ofcourse, he said.

Then Faby came by.  She brought me a momento she had hurried to sew.  Margarita brought me other beautiful keepsakes to add to my suitcase.  They helped me take all my photos and whatnot from my wall and sorted through what memories they wanted to keep.  And then, in the middle of this packing frenzy and explosion of stuff all over my room, Pablo walked in.

"Qué pasó, Becky?"
Chuta.  Pablo.  I have something to tell you.

And then, for twenty minutes, his little body quivered and convulsed in sobs with mine.
"No te vayas, Becky!  No te vayas!"
Don't go!

"I'm so sorry, Pablo.  I don't want to go.  But I have to.  I'll be back again as soon as I can."

Peace Corps called to say I had to be at a hotel in Quito by that afternoon at 6:00 pm.  More people called and stopped by.  Faby got my luggage zipped.  I was able to go to the Tienda to say one last goodbye to Carmen and her husband, Wilo.

Then, Margarita made a lovely soup for lunch and we sat down for a last meal together.  I was prepared for this.  From my first week with this family, I had been taking notes - literally.  For every fun event I wanted to remember, I wrote a note about it and stored these notes in a container.  During our lunch, I dumped my notes across the dining room table and one by one, we read from them aloud, laughing and remembering all of our good times together.  It was a very bittersweet moment, followed by traditional speeches of appreciation from Jose, Margarita and my other brother, Alex.  Then it was my turn.  I wasn't very articulate.  I wanted to thank them all for taking a chance on me.  For opening their home and heart to me, for including me in their lives, for trusting me with their children and their extended family, for being patient with me and helping me practice my Spanish while learning about them, their country, their culture and myself.  They gave me such a wonderful space to heal, grow, learn, laugh and be, and for that, I will always be grateful.  And I made sure to tell them, that this wasn't the last time they were going to see me.  With or without Peace Corps, I'd be back to Ecuador and someday, I want to show them my home country, too.  I promised, we will have many adventures ahead of us in our future.

After another round of hugs and tears, we were off to Quito and a quick good-bye in front of the hotel.  They had encouraged Pablo to stay home with Faby.  It was probably best.  It was so hard to turn away.

Monday Night, March 16
In the hotel conference room, about 80 of us volunteers were briefed on the bigger situation; over 7,300 Peace Corps volunteers from around the world were in the process of being evacuated out of their host countries due to the Coronavirus Pandemic.  Our service was officially being terminated.  I was eighteen days shy of completing my two years.  The reality was so overwhelming, but there was no time to dwell.  Because the Ecuadorian borders were now closed, tomorrow, us volunteers in the north were going to take a commercial flight from Quito to the city of Guayaquil, in the south.  There, it was planned that we would meet up with all other Volunteers from the south of the country to board a privately contracted charter flight to Miami.  We left the meeting at 10:00 pm ready to meet in the lobby by 7:00 am and board a bus to the airport.

Tuesday, March 17, 2:36 am
A bell-boy knocked on my hotel door to tell me that the bus was leaving in 10 minutes.  The city of Quito had declared a "Toque de Queda", which means that it was going to be illegal to drive on the streets after 5 am.  Peace Corps had to get us to the airport immediately for our mid-day flights.

Dreary eyed, we entered the airport and waited.  It took three different flights to get us all from Quito to Guayaquil and upon arriving to that airport, we entered a contagion movie.  Every airport employee receiving us on the gangplank, and in baggage, was fully suited, masked and gloved.  They took our temperature with a laser beam from 12 feet away.  They squirted gel into our hands and watched us as we covered our hands and arms with it.  Once we passed this test, we were allowed to retrieve our bags and enter the airport where we waited another 5+ hours for our charter flight.  It was supposed to leave by 4pm, but the flight crew was having troubles getting to the airport because of the Toque de Queda in Guayaquil.  Finally, about 170 Peace Corps volunteers boarded the flight with other evacuees from Fulbright, study-abroad students, and US citizens connected to the US Ecuadorian Embassy.  Some of the Peace Corps Volunteers had only just arrived in Ecuador eight weeks prior for their training.  Others, only had a few days remaining.  The rest of us were looking forward to at least another year.  We all shared stories of difficult packing decisions and tearful goodbyes.  This wasn't the way we wanted to end our service.  It was so heartbreaking for us all.

When we arrived in Miami, we headed to customs.  No employees in masks.  No gloves.  No gel stations.  We were all put into the customs room in a large group together.  As I stepped up to the official, I expected to answer questions regarding where I had traveled from, or where I was going.  But no.  He only wanted to know if I was carrying any agricultural products.  Their script was a little out of date.  It's obvious the US was a little behind on their reaction to Covid-19.

Then, after 2 hours of waiting for mis-placed luggage, we finally shuttled to a nearby hotel at 2:00 am and sat on the curb waiting for the one employee to process each of us into a room.  After almost an hour of waiting and the line creeping slowly, one of our Peace Corps Volunteer Leaders stepped up to the front desk and basically said that she wanted all the room keys; we were going to do this the Peace Corps way.  She walked outside, hollered to all of us to get in groups of four and to come get a key.  Almost all of us were in our rooms in the next 10 minutes.  Thank goodness.  I got 5 more hours of sleep to add to the five hours I had already gotten in the previous two nights.

Wednesday, March 18
I boarded a plane in Miami on my way to my brother and sister-in-law's home.  I tried to concentrate on the fact that I had a loving and spacious place to go for my self-quarantine.  Many of my friends were headed to hotels to quarantine alone for the next fourteen days.

72 hours after receiving that fateful phone call to evacuate my Ecuadorian home, my plane touched down in my childhood home.

"Welcome to Chicago", the pilot said.
A tear dropped in my lap.
"Ay Becky."
"No te vayas!"
Chuta.

Katie and Her Epic Adventure!

This is Katie.  A root of mine. And probably the best friend one can imagine.  If you don't believe me, keep reading.

Katie's been mooning over a trip to Ecuador for awhile and she decided on a whim to leave her husband and two young children at home, and book a flight to visit me during her Spring Break.  As her trip neared so did the Coronavirus, and we considered all the angles.  She and I spoke to several different medical and state department authorities and they all said that she should be safe to travel.  No cases of Covid-19 had yet appeared in her state, and it was "unlikely" that this virus could spread fast enough to interrupt her travel plans.

So, with that advice, Katie traveled for 22 hours from Anchorage, Alaska to reach Quito at midnight on Sunday, March 8th.  I picked her up at the airport and we headed to my favorite spot- Mindo.  We spent two days there catching up and laughing like only best girlfriends can, but pouring rains kept us from a lot of the local fun.  Good thing the chocolate tour still functions in downpours!

Katie's only request of her trip was that she spend time with my Ecuadorian family and go to school with me to learn more about the education system.  We left Mindo on Wednesday, March 11th and headed for Ibarra.  We enjoyed a quick dinner with my family and planned more with them the next day.

In the night, Katie became seriously ill and had to stay in my bed for the next 48 hours.  I went to school on Thursday morning leaving her to sleep, only to find that my schools were closing down at the end of the day on account of the virus scare.  By Saturday, she was feeling better, and we headed out to the farmer's market and wandered around town finding mostly empty streets and shops shuttering their doors.  So, we returned home and spent some of the evening sharing her Alaskan gifts with my family.  We had no idea that this was the only time she would get with them.

That night, Ecuador announced that it was going to close its borders in two days and the reality of the situation really hit; Katie needed to change her flight plans and get back to Alaska, and her family, as soon as possible.  She cut her trip three days short and made an epic journey to Quito and beyond, through Mexico City, Los Angeles, Seattle and Anchorage for almost 34 more hours of travel.  I can't even begin to imagine how much money all of her original flights and her change of flights cost her... essentially for three days of rainy fun!

I'm sorry you didn't get to see Ecuadorian schools or meet my students, Katie.  But I'm so glad I got to share a little of my world, and my love Ecuador with you.  You're the best!
Be well my friend!

Dogs! Dogs! Dogs!

In Ecuador, dogs are everywhere.       Cats aren't that well-liked or common.  Birds are rare.  And, well, they eat their guinea pigs.  So, in this country, dogs are the chosen pet by all.                                

It seems that an important part of living in a house is to have guard dogs fenced inside your compound or living on the (flat) roof.  Their purpose is solely to bark.  Many other dogs roam and poop in the streets.  Their purpose is to bark and chase away other dogs.  Sometimes they are fed regularly by an "owner" or kind neighbor.  More often, they survive by scrounging the community garbage bins and poking around restaurant entrances waiting for scraps.  Some are mean and bond together to terrify a passer-by.  Most are sweet.  Their skinny sides, and matted, dirty fur are their common trademarks.

Today's post is entirely for the dog lover.  I've been attempting to capture "life of a dog" 

photos for two years now, but my niece Allison did a far better job of it in her eight days 

in Ecuador.  Thanks goes to her for most of these images. 

Some dogs sleep on the sidewalks, others choose the shade of a vehicle. 

There's bus station dogs, and classroom dogs.... yes, many dogs just wander into classrooms and sleep away the afternoon.  We've all learned to just step over them and carry on. 

Hostal Dogs....

Restaurant Dogs...

                                   And some have a favorite street corners or business to guard....

Some dogs even ride tourist attractions to get a pet from dog-loving visitors!

Pet food is expensive in Ecuador, and most families feed their dogs the human's left-overs from lunch.  Bread rolls, rice, scrambled eggs, meat, fish, soup, and chicken bones (sometimes with some meat attached) are common meals for an Ecuadorian dog.  If there's no left-overs that day, the dog usually doesn't get fed.  Vet visits are also quite a luxury.  Many dogs don't get that privilege.

This is Jose's regular ritual of fixing a dinner of left-overs for each of his dogs. 

Overall, dogs are just part of the scenery here and not often treated with kindness or extra attention.  But in the past two years, I have also seen an explosion of tiny-dogs, the kind that people carry in their purse and backpack.  I've also seen dogs in cars, on leashes getting walked, and even inside people's houses!  So, I have to assume, that the western idea of "dog as part of the family" is changing how some Ecuadorians are viewing their family pet.  

I've never had a dog before and don't consider myself a dog-person.  

But I've come to realize that my Ecuadorian family has the sweetest dogs of all.  

This is Balto.  He accepted me immediately as a member of the family and all he wants in life is some chicken and some pats.  He's getting old for an out-door dog, so I try to give him some love, sneak him some of his favorite bread rolls, fill his water bowl and straighten his blanket-bed each day.  In return, he faithfully sleeps every night outside my door and lulls me to sleep with his snoring.

This is Joy, his constant companion.  She's feisty and fiercely protects her food from Balto.  She's the first one to the fence to announce a neighbor walking by.  She also loves being touched, and her favorite day of the year is when somebody cuts her hair.  She's just too cute when she can see again! 

I miss these dogs.  I'm sure they're wondering why I left in such a hurry. 

Visiting El Rosal - a Community Cooperative in the Intag Valley

Guest Blog Post by Allison Dawson

When browsing through my Aunt Becky’s list of possible destinations to visit, I was admittedly a little overwhelmed by all the options.  My mom and I were headed to Ecuador for a two-week trip and I was ready for any and every experience that would give me a glimpse into life within Ecuador, especially its natural beauty and native customs.  Next to a little asterisk warning “not for the faint of heart”, was the option for an overnight stay in an ecological reserve in the cloud forest of Intag Valley. After some Googling, I was hooked. With this travel option, we would be staying in a community called El Rosal. 

If you were to go to your favorite navigation app and search for El Rosal, Ecuador, you likely wouldn’t find it.  The closest place marked on the map is the little town of Garcia Moreno.

Sure, Garcia Moreno is quite close to El Rosal.  It’s only a 15-minute taxi ride away; a steep, winding, rocky, bumpy, incredibly beautiful fifteen minutes away.  But El Rosal is the hidden gem on the top of the ridge - truly just an anthill in this remote, lush, mountainous terrain.  Still reeling from the few hours spent winding along in a dilapidated bus with a rather cavalier driver, we pulled up to El Rosal. Becky was right to call this an adventure not for the faint of heart.  After eightish hours of travel from Ibarra to the Intag Valley, we were eager to find a bathroom and a stationary seat to relax in. 

Greeted with open arms and genuine smiles, Germania and the women of El Rosal showed us to our rooms. Expecting a home-stay environment, we were surprised by a freshly built hostal  – an amenity quite unexpected this far out in el campo.  Outside my bedroom window was a tangle of flowers and greenery, attracting all types of colorful hummingbirds. 

From downstairs we heard Germania call us to lunch.  Like a typical Ecuadorian almuerzo, the meal began with a big bowl of hot soup, followed today by a main dish of tilapia and rice.  As we enjoyed our hot soup on this equally hot day, the community members began to filter in from their various posts.  For example, someone just returned from harvesting fresh fruit for our jugo.  Thankfully, Becky reminded me that I would likely be getting a whole fish, not a filet, giving me a chance to mentally prepare for my first bone-in fish meal.  Worried my lack of culinary experience would make the meal difficult, my mind was calmed with the very first bite. It was fall-off-the-bone tender and amazingly seasoned.

When asked where the tilapia was sourced from, we found out all their meat, fish, dairy, vegetables, and fruits come from within the cooperative community and their neighbors– fish included.  A non-native species, tilapia, is well known for being low maintenance and sustainable to raise in grow ponds. For this reason, the members of El Rosal chose farming tilapia over fishing from the Intag River in the valley below.  Several varying sizes of tilapia ponds were inlaid in terraces on the mountainside, producing all the fish meat the cooperative and their neighbors could need. Our lunch had been cast-netted from those ponds just minutes before. 

Our tour of the cooperative began with Franklin showing us to his homestead.  Here, he cultivates rare and endangered orchids. Handling each plant with such care and admiration, Franklin pointed out every colorful bloom of these unique flowers.  Like a proud father doting over his children, it’s clear he is the right man for the job of trying to rehabilitate and reintroduce these native populations to their land.  As we walked, Franklin explained to us that the Intag Valley’s Cloud Forest is considered one of the most rich and biodiverse hot-spots on the planet, containing approximately 15 - 20% of the world’s plant and bird diversity.  He and the other community members recognize so ardently that their ecosystem is incredibly special and diverse, and he has made it his mission to nurture and protect it for future generations. 

My mother, Julie, and I in El Rosal

Franklin continued to show us around this hilltop agricultural community, introducing us to their pigs, their bio-gas collection pit (from what we could tell, they run completely on bio-gas from animal excrement and food waste...so cool!), their cuy pens, their various fruit trees and gardens, and finally their aquaculture ponds.  Being a bit of a fish nerd myself, I was super interested to see the simplicity of their systems and witness sustainability in action. Watching them cast-net and select the largest and juiciest tilapia to sell/trade with their neighbors put a grin on my face, despite how tired I still was from traveling.  

I thought to myself, they had said something after lunch about having freshly made coffee…  
I wonder when that will be? 

My questions were answered when we returned to the dining area and kitchen.  Cooking over an open wood cooker was a large pot of freshly peeled green coffee beans. They weren’t kidding when they said fresh!  I took a couple turns at constantly stirring the beans so they didn’t burn, but the locals had to keep spelling me and then each other.  Stirring beans is a surprisingly tiring exercise that lasts a good 3 hours at least for a quality roast. During this time, I learned how the men of this community work together to cultivate and harvest their coffee beans, selling them to a larger co-op of coffee growers from the Intag Valley, which then distribute their green beans all over the world.  

Meanwhile, another group of people, including my mother and Aunt Becky, were employed helping to make the Pan de Yuca, or Yucca Bread.  Watching the ingredients go into the bowl made me a little dubious – mashed yucca (a root not unlike potatoes), cheese, a large serving of pig fat, sugar, a bunch of butter and eggs, plus the typical dry ingredients for bread.  Boy, were we in for a treat. 

The Pan de Yuca team: Germania, Maria, Mirjam- a Community Volunteer from Austria, 

Julie and Becky

A few hours later, the coffee beans were finally finished roasting.  So much for an afternoon cup-of-joe.  Dessert coffee it is!  

While we stepped outside the kitchen and took turns hand grinding the coffee beans to powder, Germania and Maria began to cook the Pan de Yuca.  Germania decided to cook the bread in a special manner for a “different flavor”.  First, she placed the formed bread rolls into a large metal pot and placed that over a small wood fire. A jumble of burning branches were then loaded on top of its metal lid. I don’t know if it was this type of “dutch-oven” cooking method or the pig fat in the bread, but it was the most amazing bread I have ever had the pleasure to eat.  To be honest, I forget what else was for dinner besides that amazing Pan de Yuca and fresh field-to-table coffee.  

The truly memorable part of the evening was our after-dinner conversation with five of the cooperative members including Germania, her husband Ramiro, her daughter Lily, Franklin and his wife Maria. For hours we sat and discussed politics, the environment, geography, and ecotourism.  The sleepier I got, the more broken my Spanish verbal skills became, but Becky was asking all the same questions that were burning in my mind, so I was happy to listen.  Every word from every member of that cooperative, young and old, was out of love and care for the environment, working towards a prosperous future and a healthy Earth. They want to live sustainably to minimize their impact on the precious ecological biome in which they live, and preserve the cloud forests for future generations.  Unfortunately, these very forests are being targeted by gold and silver mining companies. While many citizens vehemently oppose the mining industry in the Intag Valley, the prospect of job creation is tantalizing to others. Despite the tensions, the El Rosal Cooperative continues to set the precedent and educate others on what it means to live sustainably.  I was so impressed. With a belly full of bread and a gratefulness for the experience we just shared, the three of us climbed into bed and fell asleep to the sounds of this magical forest.

The following morning we woke and enjoyed another amazing breakfast of cheese empanadas. The coffee we ground the night before somehow tasted even better the second time around.  After breakfast, we finally got a glimpse of the soap laboratory that put this community cooperative on the map. Originally, it was the ladies of this community who learned how to cultivate and harvest aloe-vera, making an all-natural soap to sell.  With a newly-built laboratory, they also make shampoo and lotions, distributing these through vendors in other countries. Of course, we had to buy some to share! Then just like that, it was time for us to load up in a taxi and continue on our Ecuador adventures. 

I could go on and on about the El Rosal Community Cooperative – but instead I’ll just link in their website so you can take a look yourself: http://asociacionelrosal.org/  
and their Facebook Page: Finca Agroecológica El Rosal

Before we left, we introduced them to various travel and experience accommodation web sites such as Booking.Com and Airbnb.  I hope they expand their online presence so more people like me can experience this interesting and beautiful community. I’d give this eco-tourism lodge a 5-star rating for sure!