First night in Quito

One memorable and frustrating experience did happen my first night in Quito. It was an experience that taught me (or reinforced earlier indications) that it's best to double check things in the State Department. I'm not sure if it's that people are so busy they forget to do things, or something else. Time will tell. Everything was fine in getting to Quito. The Consulate here in Guayaquil arranged a driver for me to the airport, the flight, and then I was picked up by a driver in Quito. The problem occurred when we arrived at the gated community where the TDY apartment is located. TDY stands for temporary duty, which was what I was doing in Quito-it usually applies to anything less than 6 months or so in the State Department. It includes interns, and lots of technical workers come on TDY assignments-instead of every post having certain specialists, which would be a waste, there’ll just be one in a region, and they have a base and then travel about. There’s enough of these people in Quito to warrant having an apartment just for them (cheaper than a hotel). 

As we approached the gate, the driver asked me where the house was. I, of course, had never been there, so was a bit worried. I had printed off a rough google map with directions. So we headed in that direction, but, the buildings weren’t all marked, so we weren’t 100% sure we had the right building. We went back to the guard station at the entrance, and they more or less sent us to where we had been. I, assumed, that since the Embassy didn’t arrange for one of its drivers to pick me up, that they would’ve at least made sure the driver knew where he was headed. That hadn’t happened. So, as I didn’t want to go dinging all the doorbells in a few different apartment buildings, I called the housing coordinator in Guayaquil. He said he’d try to find the information for the housing guy in Quito, and would get back to me. In the meantime I called the contact I had in Quito, the woman who’d be my supervisor for the next 5 weeks. She was quite upset, as she had recently had many problems with the housing unit, so she said she’d try and get the numbers for the two interns living there, as well as contact the housing guy. 

(the view outside the neighborhood gate, that’s Rucu Pichincha)

In the meantime I felt bad that the driver was just waiting there, so I went to the building that we thought was it, and rang the doorbell of the first apartment on the panel. I knew I was looking for Apt. 1, the bottom floor apartment, and hoped the panel (no labels) went in sequential order. There were two sets of metal grated doors. I could see through the lobby two young women come to the inside door. They looked out, saw me, and shut the door. Was it the wrong apartment? Or had the Consulate and Embassy not been able to complete the fairly basic task of telling the two interns they were receiving a new roommate that night? I guessed the latter, and rang the bell a few more times. 

They answered, and opened up the first gate. Now in the lobby, I asked “is this the embassy TDY apartment?” Once this was confirmed, I told them I’d be staying there. They were a bit taken aback, and asked if I had some sort of proof that I worked for the embassy. I showed them my diplomatic ID card, and that, with the addition that I CLEARLY was American, and had a bunch of knowledge of people working in the embassy, apparently was enough led them to let me in. 

I couldn’t put my bags right down in my room, because one of the intern’s mothers was visiting. As they had no idea I was coming, her mother had been staying in the empty room. So, they were very kind, and her mom moved all her stuff out and washed the sheets and made the bed for me. In the meantime, we all discussed our mutual disbelief that no one had notified them that there would be someone moving into the other room, and that no one had asked them if they’d be comfortable if it was a single male. (Apparently, as the housing coordinator told me the next day, because we didn’t share a bathroom it wasn’t against the State Department’s rules.) It took the housing department until Wednesday to get me keys for the apartment. So, it was good I had a cell phone to be able to call the interns and make sure I’d be able to get into the place. Needless to say, having to show ID to get into my apartment wasn’t the best welcome to Quito. 

Luckily, the people in the Consular section, especially the Ecuadorians, were super cool and friendly, and I had a blast during my time there. 

(sun setting over the hills in southwest Quito)

Bahia de Caraquez

Right before I headed to Quito, we had a three day weekend, not sure why. I had met a few Peace Corps volunteers in the area, at a BBQ that a few us at the Consulate (who are returned Peace Corps Volunteers) held. I had mentioned to a few that I didn’t have plans for the long weekend, and Rachel from Colorado invited me on a trip to visit her friend at the beach. So we met up at the bus station and took the 5 or so hour trip to Bahía de Caráquez. It’s a mid-sized beach town on the Manabí coast. Manabí is the major coastal province in Ecuador. 

Jackie was a super cool host. Rachel stayed at her apartment and I stayed at a hostel, because, well, hostels are well within my price range. Visiting Jackie’s apartment was like traveling in a time machine back to my days in Costa Rica, just so many different things that are part of a volunteer’s apartment, when living on a Peace Corps subsidy. I got in some good reading, lots of beach time, a good sunburn, and lots of great conversation with Rachel and Jackie. I think at that point they were both about 7 or 8 months into their service, so no longer bright eyed and bushy tailed, but still very absorbed in their communities and projects. Bahia is an interesting town, most of the development (read beach houses/condos for people from Guayaquil and Quito) have been built in the past 15 years, so there is some new wealth created by the construction jobs and land purchases, but still a lot of poor fisherman. One of the big things that Jackie talked about was teen pregnancy, which makes a lot of sense, due to the loose culture of the beach, the comings and goings of boats, and the historical prohibitions on birth control because of the Catholic Church. 

But I wasn’t too worried about that as I downed cold Pilseners and hit up the ceviche restaurants. We also went to this quirky little restaurant, which serves yogurt and burritos. Now, cold, icy, flavored yogurt is a very popular thing here. Think more frozen go-gurts, and less the little plastic cup at the supermarket. The burritos made little sense, usually yogurt here is served with yuca bread and other pastries (which they also had). But, the burritos did help explain Speedy Gonzalez as the restaurant’s logo. 

Oh, so the beach there is kind of a peninsula where the river meets the coast. The tide came in very fast, as we were sitting reading. Jackie had warned us, but was up buying a coconut, and I had recently checked, and the tide was a ways away. About a page or two later, and I head Rachel go “oh shit” and had time to turn, see the water coming right at me. So, I got up, and (now being pulled by the wave) in a bit of panic, dropped my Kindle in order to grab my phone and wallet. Sand and water washed over the Kindle, but the rest of my stuff was fine. Buying a bag of rice and putting the Kindle in it overnight did no good, but, I’d much rather replace it for $70 than a phone for $500-so, all was good. A stunning sunset from the roof of Jackie’s apartment building had me forgetting pretty quickly. 

On the radio

Visa adjudication is pretty repetitive and although quite interesting, fairly predictable. But, every once in a while, and hopefully more often, there are outreach opportunities. When it comes to outreach from the Consular section, it usually means doing town hall type meetings (often for American Citizens) or presenting at a forum or something similar (often information about student visas for prospective college students. If you weren’t aware, getting foreigners to attend U.S. colleges is a very, very popular thing among almost everyone involved. It allows for (hopefully) the US to make a great impression on motivated, ambitious young people from around the world, and it allows for foreigners to pay full tuition (very few scholarships or aid for foreigners) and thus subsidize the education of Americans. But, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to speak at either of these type of events. But, I did get the chance to speak to a much larger audience.

Almost every Friday, someone from the Consulate heads to Radio Cristal, 870 AM, one of the more popular radio news stations in coastal Ecuador. It’s been around for 58 years, and is a very well trusted news source across the country. It focuses a bit more on Guayaquil news, as that’s where it is, but it does have listeners throughout the country. The guy we talked to said the listenership varies from 50,000 to double that for certain programs, peak times. That isn’t really a lot of people, but it is a very reliable group. Unlike the pop music FM stations, Radio Cristal is a station people will put on when cooking, cleaning the house, driving to/from work, or working in labor jobs-not one they’ll quickly flip through looking for a hot song. It does all sorts of news, and some music, kind of like a local AM station you can think of.

Every Friday during the lunch time, there’s the dedicated Consulate hour. The format is pretty simple, there’s the host, an experienced radio news guy (he does morning news every day) and then 2-3 people from the Consulate. He introduces the show, and then takes questions from callers, an email address, and their Facebook page. He does a good job of kind of rephrasing and clarifying the questions. By this point there aren’t too many surprises, so we’ve got out talking points down pretty well. Which is probably clear by the fact they let me go on the show during maybe my fifth or sixth week working at the Consulate. Most of the questions are specific to one person’s case, and we give general answers, but answers that are helpful. I went with my supervisor’s boss-the lady that is the head of the entire Consular section, as well as with an older Ecuadorian woman, who has been working in the immigration visa section for some time. Besides introducing myself, I just fielded two questions, as my boss took another two, and then there were three or so about immigrant visas and lawful permanent resident rules.  I made a bit of a joke in one of my answers, but otherwise spit out the official talking points pretty much word for word.

Personally, I think this is an incredibly great thing to do and something we should be doing more and more of. While there are certainly lots of details about visa eligibility and reasons that people are denied the ability to travel to the US that we want to keep secret or at least not promote, there are plenty of tips, guidelines, and rules that we can share with prospective tourists, students, workers, and immigrants that will make their application process easier, and my job easier (less to explain to people, less people showing up with the wrong documents/forms).

Isla Santay

So, I haven’t posted in forever, and there’s no good excuse for that. I have at times been fairly busy. But not that busy. I’m actually up in Quito, and have been since the beginning of April. I’ll be here two more weeks. I’m up working at the Embassy because two of the consular officers here are out on paternity leave. It’s been great to meet new people here, check out some of the sights around Quito and nearby, as well as interesting to note the differences in the applicants (as a reflection of the different cultures of the two cities. But, I’m kind of picky about keeping the posts in chronological order, so below is one of the last things I did before I left Guayaquil. 

(the bridge out to the island)

Within my section of the Consulate there are probably 20 or so Ecuadorians and ten of us Americans. Most of the Ecuadorians are married, maybe with a few kids. I don’t know them all too well, but they are generally incredibly kind, helpful, smart people, with some of them having studied or lived in the US for periods of time. On the other side of the interview windows, where all the visa applicants are (or Americans renewing passports, etc.), there are what are called “greeters.”  The greeters check in the`applicants against the appointment list, check to make sure they have the proper documents, and help them through the lines and make sure they get to the correct window when their names or numbers are called. The greeters are mostly college students, with a few that are 24 or 25. They work for a company that the State Department contracts, and most work part time (7:00-11:00 or 12:00). This alows them to attend classes in the afternoon or at night. Some of the ones that have already graduated have young kids or small businesses, and so like the ability to have time with their young kids, or they work their other jobs in the afternoon. During my first month or so, I slowly got to know some of the greeters, and have made good friends with a few of them. I’ve grilled out and watched soccer with them, met up at a bar/restaurant to watch more soccer, and went out dancing/singing late one night for one of the greeter’s birthday. 

(crocodile chilling in the marsh)

Before the late night partying (and I mean like sunrise late) I got together with a group of greeters to ride bikes around Isla Santay. Isla Santay is an island in the Guayas River right across from Guayaquil. Guayaquil is mostly on the West bank of the river, but there is plenty of development on the other side of the river, and up the river a bit, where it splits off to the side. But, right in the middle of the river, right across from the center of Guayaquil is a pretty sizeable island (5,000 acres or so). The island has been inhabited for a long time, but never was developed much because most of it is mangrove swamps, and seasonal rises and falls in the river’s level make a lot of the island underwater at some point of the year. It was inhabited by farmers living on stilt houses who would fish in the mangrove swamps, and raised some animals on the stable land. During the 1900s, rice farms sprouted up on parts of the island. But, it remained much, much less developed than Guayaquil. In the ‘90s, the national government decided to protect much of the island, due to the various animal and plant species that are unique to the mangrove swamps. So, a raised trail was built around the island, and new homes, as well as a small tourist center, were built. Only the families that had lived there before are allowed to live there-so they make up the staff at the few restaurants, the boat tours, and as tour guides. This was kind of a trade the government made, in exchange for the rice and dairy farms being mostly closed and returned to natural growth. 

(Guayaquil from island, across the Guayas River)

So, from Guayaquil (right next to a big banana export office building) you can rent bicycles, and ride over the bike and pedestrian only bridge (constructed just last year) to the island, and then ride around it. We stopped to walk on some raised paths and see a few wild crocodiles. It was drizzly and cloudy most of the day, but we still had a good time-and it did create a very humid, rain forest type atmosphere as we rode on the raised platforms. As you can see from the pictures, the Guayas River is about as ugly as rivers can get. It always has lots of plants and driftwood floating, as it’s an estuary-the tide brings everything the river tries to get rid of. But, it’s a very navigable river and incredibly calm and safe natural harbor-and that’s why the largest city in Ecuador is where it is. 

(view of Guayaquil from the bridge, a very cloudy Guayaquil)

El clasico del astillero

As some of you are aware, starting with some friends I made in college, then growing when I was in Spain, and even more so when I was in Costa Rica, I’m a soccer fan (or football as we should call it). So, before coming to Guayaquil, I did some research of the big teams in the city and in Ecuador, and figured out who I would cheer for. It was pretty easy. The two huge teams in Guayaquil are Emelec and Barcelona (there’s on more top flight team, but it’s not a big deal). I’m a Real Madrid fan, whose arch rival in Spain is FC Barcelona (the team in Guayaquil named themselves after the Spanish club and adopted/stole their logo). So, it was Emelec. Even better, Emelec plays in Estadio George Capwell, named after the American businessman who was elemental in the early operations of the Empresa Electrica de Ecuador-the national power company. Em-El-Ec a sort of acronym of the company’s name was used as a nickname, and the team used it. Originally, the team was made up of workers for the company. Like a true American, Capwell built the stadium for baseball, but the workers were not interested, so eventually the stadium was converted for use by the soccer team (or so the story goes). 

(before the game, the stadium filling up)

So, my second week at work I sent out a short introductory email to all of the local staff. Our office of about 30 people is 2/3 Ecuadorians (although a few of them have double nationality (US/Spain). I did include in the email that I was going to be an “Emelecista” because I can’t stand FC Barcelona. This won me some friendly responses, and apparently caused a bit of stir with some Barcelona fans. Hopefully no one was too angry. But, Byron, one of the young guys in the office, chatted me up because he’s “Emelecista a la muerte” or ‘Emelec fan until I die.’ He asked me if I’d be interested in going to the Clasico del Astillero, or Shipyard Classic, which is the big game between Emelec and Barcelona. They play 4 a year, but it’s still a huge deal. The rivalry is so intense that lots of police are involved and sometimes the opposing teams fans have been barred from entering (like if you have blue shirt on you can’t come in). Barcelona has won the league 14 times, Emelec 12. El Nacional (a team from Quito) has 13 titles. Emelec is two time defending champion though. 

(through the fence, the real fans singing)

Emelec’s stadium is under construction, so it was played at a national stadium used for tracks and more often, concerts. Byron picked me up, then two of his friends, then we bought 10 beers and parked a few blocks from the stadium, and cooled off with a few brews before the game. We had pretty good seats, in that we were right next to the section for the “real” fans/hooligans-whatever you want to call them. The people that stand up the whole game, wave flags, and chant/sing every five minutes. The game was great for us, as Emelec won 2-0. They scored in the 72nd and 84th minutes, and Barcelona had a few good chances late, so it was an exciting second half. 

(the yellow section is fenced off for the visiting fans)

Even more excitement came after the game. We rushed out of the stadium, as it’s well known that the opposing teams fans (in this case Barcelona) roam the streets after the game looking to torment the other team’s fans. Like physically. Back when he was 16, Byron got caught up in this mess with one of his friends, they didn’t hurt her, but they punched him in the face enough that his braces cut up his gums and his shirt was covered in blood as he stumbled away. So, we were on the lookout-this same friend was with us. So, we walked quickly towards the car, every other corner we’d see people running towards us (other Emelec fans evading the punks) and we’d turn and jog along with them. Needless to say my wallet and phone were in my hand. We did this for about 10 minutes. Then we turned a corner and could see a pickup of Barcelona fans cruising down the road-so we actually were running this time. We stopped about two blocks later-but amid the confusion had lost his two friends. We looked around for them a bit, then made it back to the car.

Byron’s phone was dead, and he didn’t have a charger in his phone. He didn’t know his friend’s number, nor his Facebook password, so I found her on Twitter and sent a few tweets and direct messages. We drove around a bit looking for them, but eventually he took me home. His two friends had kept on running, and jumped on a public bus, then got off at a mall-and only then took their phones out of their purses and called a taxi. She, logically, didn’t check Twitter until she was home. I can’t wait to go to the next game!!!!

(heading out of the stadium)

Mi casa

One of the biggest perks of the Foreign Service is that you get free housing. The housing is sometimes owned by the State Department, but I think generally they have the houses on long term leases. Foreign Service personnel come in many varieties, some married with three or four kids. Some in semi-retirement “second careers” and some young and single like me. A combination of security concerns and high standards (by other folks, not me) leads this housing to be super posh. And most houses are ready for at least a couple with a kid or two, so there’s lots of extra space for a lonely single guy like me. A funny quirk is that some American (buy America act) furniture company supplies all the furniture for all Foreign Service housing worldwide. So, it may be a different type of house in a totally different environment, but everyone has the same tan/green/yellow couches. Not only do I not have to pay rent anymore, but I’ve got my own bathroom, walk in closet, full size fridge to myself and very nice brand new washers and dryers. Please keep paying your taxes. 

One thing you may note are the bars on the windows, and the cage that surrounds the upstairs bedrooms. Security is a big concern for our residences, more so in some countries than others, yet the standards are pretty much the same worldwide, so our homes are outfitted with additional security measures. Most of them don't cause many issues, so it's a nice have-especially in a town where home robberies are fairly common, it's nice knowing there's really no feasible way of breaking in without causing all sorts of damage and noise. 

Sorry about the lighting, I took the pictures at night.

My house is in a (loosely) gated community called Puerto Azul. It has somewhere around 8,000 residents and a wide variety of housing. There are veritable mansions with tennis courts and 6 car garages. There is also a big apartment building and a few sets of 1-2 bedroom townhouse complexes. Most of the houses seem to be of the 3-4 bedroom single family home variety. Very few garages as you’d think of them in the U.S., but more just carports. Almost every house has a cement wall or wrought iron gate, or combination around the entire property. Some houses have very well manicured gardens and yards. There are also a fair amount of vacant lots, overgrown with weeds. I’ll do a neighborhood tour blog at some point.

My house has three bedrooms, each with a full bath and walk in closet. One is downstairs, right off the front doorway. The other two are upstairs. It has an open foyer and stairway. The main floor includes the kitchen, breakfast nook, laundry room, a storage room with a tiny full bath attached (maid’s quarters), a family room, and dining room. There’s a back patio, with paving stones and a garden along the wall. Patio table and chairs included. The State Department does set up the houses with a welcome kit, which includes things like some flatware, pots and pans, toaster, microwave, broom, small trash cans, and things like that. Once my final shipment arrives, I give almost all of those things back. Or so is my understanding. 

The other bedroom upstairs came with a bed, so that’s the guest room. The one downstairs has only been entered once or twice since I moved in, to put some extra stuff in there, and to take the picture below. I’ll explain more about shipping things in the Foreign Service in another post, but needless to say that all of my pictures and maps for the walls haven’t arrived yet. So, you see the house mostly as it came, except for my room, which is still pretty sparse though. Because of the ample storage space in my closet, I have almost nothing in the two dressers. Just some books, files, and magazines. But I have file cabinets coming for those. 

The house is in pretty good condition, there are few parts of the kitchen where you can tell they kind of just slapped the cabinets together. It’s tile floors throughout the house. There are wall air conditioners in most of the rooms. I feel super fortunate to be living in such a nice place, it’s quite a luxury. Hopefully my shipment will arrive sometime soon so I can feel a bit more at home (and have some bowls-there were oddly none in the flatware provided). 

From top to bottom, we move from the bottom to the top of the house. Don’t get lost. The front doorway (taken from the family room), looking up at the cage, the landing at the top of the stairs, the second bedroom, the second bedroom’s walk-in closet, and the bathroom. 

The living/family room and the dining room. One of the big chairs was up in my room, but I liked it better down in the family room. My TV will go on the left side of the picture, where you see a little DVD player on that cabinet. The dining room table has leaves to expand it, but there are already five too many chairs. 

Sorry, not the greatest pics, some of the angles are a bit hard to get. But this is the downstairs bedroom, and the walk-in closet that is off of the bathroom. 

Top, from the kitchen, looking into the laundry room. Middle, looking from the laundry room into the storage room and bathroom/maid’s quarters. Bottom, the downstairs bathroom.

The kitchen. Each photo taken from the same spot, just turned around. To the left of the middle picture is the breakfast nook. Or to the right of the top picture. The laundry room is opposite of the breakfast nook. That's all, thanks for scrolling all the way to the bottom.