An RPCV Returns Home
RPCV Amy Waterman (’00 –’02)

I returned to the United States at the beginning of summer 2002.  Two years and three months before, I’d gotten on a plane to South America, terrified as the others in the seats around me.  There were thirty of us trainees in Omnibus 83, and we were heading to Ecuador to teach agriculture, resource conservation, and animal production.

We’d heard rumors.  How we’d get kicked out if we didn’t learn the language, the myriad and insidious tropical diseases, and the dangers of living in a Third World economy: theft, assault, and worse.  A volunteer had disappeared in Bolivia, and not even the American embassy could track him down.

I read the handbook twice: the lists of recommended items to pack, important cultural points, how-tos for everything from banking to mailing letters.  In country, we sat in classrooms for three months to learn everything again. But what Peace Corps didn’t prepare us for was the return home.

Another volunteer, Emily, returned to the U.S. a month and a half before I did.  I called her from my home in Oregon to Pennsylvania, half-way across the country, and we talked.

“Lawn ornaments!”  Emily burst out laughing.  “That was my first impression of America.  Those little gnomes people leave in their yards.  No one steals them!”

“Cars!” I added.  “I took my mom’s car to the coffee shop, and I felt like I had to park my car in front of the window so I could see it.  Then I kept looking over every so often to make sure it was okay.  We always did that in Quito.”

In Washington, D.C., just off the plane, I’d mistaken a hotel bellhop, standing alert in his gray uniform outside the glass doors, for an armed guard.  I ate at McDonald’s and thought sadly about my favorite armed guard, who used to pace outside of the McDonald’s in Quito in the morning before it opened.  He’d sit sometimes on the bench beside the plastic life-sized clown Ronald, and one time I caught him with an arm around Ronald, embracing in comfortable companionship.

It was reverse culture shock, the Peace Corps nurses told us.  No need to worry; the world would turn right side-up as we settled in and wrapped our old culture like a transparent sheet around us.  But the things I thought in those first few weeks scared me, because this world America was no longer familiar to me; it was as foreign as Mars, a red, harsh, warlike planet so distant from the green-and-blue swirls of the Mitad del Mundo, the underdeveloped Center of the World.

I was luckier than most.  Oregon’s agricultural community depends on migrant labor, and the region where I lived had panaderías and taquerías in every town.  I found friends to speak Spanish with and even helped a local Mexican baker promote his business.  I gave talks about Ecuador to my aunt’s women’s group and a friend’s second-grade class.  Still, it wasn’t enough.  I missed being a volunteer, I missed speaking Spanish and, most of all, I missed knowing my identity.  I wasn’t the white gringa here; I was just one more average American amid a sea of Americans.

After a year, I left the U.S.  I applied for a masters in writing program at the University of Wales-Aberystwyth.  I’d fallen in love with Aberystwyth when I was working as a shepherdess on Welsh farms after college and always wanted desperately to return.  The program would help give me a second career, since a knee injury in Ecuador had cut short my farming hopes.  Plus, the writing program would help me do something with the 300-page manuscript sitting on my computer.  “Two Years in Ecuador, by Amy Waterman.”  It was a less-than-brilliant title for a behemoth of a first draft, but it was accurate.  Two years of scribbling in the evenings when there was nothing to do in my village but make dinner and watch television until bedtime.  The Peace Corps creates writers from sheer boredom.

There were no Mexicans in Wales.  My friends from the international student body were English, Chinese, Greek … not even a single Spaniard among them.  I missed speaking Spanish even more, and I found that my experiences were so different from those of the typical 19-year-old British university student that classroom discussions left me dumbfounded by the irrelevance of it all.  I was older, and it showed.

I satisfied my desire for volunteer work by becoming a note-taker for students with special needs.  It was the perfect move: one student who needed notes was in first-year Spanish.  I sat through an entire year of Spanish taught by a Welsh professor teaching pure Castellano.

As the following summer wore into fall, I was finishing my thesis and wondering what to do next.  I knew one thing: I couldn’t go back to the U.S.  It felt like part of my past, a link to my childhood rather than my future.

An Australian friend’s visit was just the clue I needed.  His fantastic accent, sense of humor, and stories of Australian life reminded me how much I loved that part of the world.  Although I’d already seen Australia, I’d yet to visit its neighbor.  After he left, I logged onto the internet and did a search for “work abroad new zealand.”  Eureka.  As long as I left before I turned 30 the following year, I could obtain a New Zealand Young Person’s Working Visa for one year.

With that decision, my life came full circle. I returned to Ecuador just six months ago.  When my plane from Auckland via Santiago touched down in Quito, my ex-boyfriend Vinicio was there with a huge smile and a hug to greet me.  He took me to a dingy hostel, which nevertheless had hot water and a private bathroom for $10/night.  We wandered the streets until late in the night talking.  It was dirtier than I remembered.  I stumbled over broken sidewalks, coughed as buses belched black smoke, and held tightly to Vinicio as rowdy young men passed us in the dark.

I remembered how it felt to be wrenched from this country when my service ended and how, back then, it was the United States that seemed like a foreign country to me.  Now, everything here was so strange.  How could I have forgotten all this: the controladores shouting from the bus doors, the wrinkled indigenous women jerking cups in our faces, the brown faces that once were my family.

Memories broke like fragments of a melting iceberg.  The Tortuga Verde where we’d drunk British beer and played pool.  The discotecas: Papillion, Señor Frog’s...  Each new corner we turned brought an old memory.  The burger stand that used to sell vegetarian burgers until 2 in the morning now served comida típica, so Vinicio and I ended up making our way back to the Mariscal where we had nachos and margaritas at Red Hot Chili Peppers and filled each other in on our lives.

I was in Quito to obtain a document I needed to complete my New Zealand residency application.  I’d found home at last in that wonderfully green, wild country.  I had a good job with an internet design company that created online learning packages to sell to Americans.  One of our products was Rocket Spanish (www.RocketSpanish.com), an innovative interactive language learning system that I’d created along with a Chilean colleague, based on how we were taught Spanish in the Peace Corps.

Vinicio told me that he was still struggling to finish his degree and make any money at all.  He’d tried to open a restaurant, which had gone bust.  He’d worked for the Pilsener brewery driving truck.  He’d done the recorrida for the children who went to his sister’s nursery school.  He’d lost what little he earned on ventures that never turned out, like taking tourists on horseback rides on Ilalo, which looked promising until someone stole the saddles.

As I looked at him and held his hand across the table, seeing in his eyes the light of love that would never dim, no matter how far our lives grew apart, I felt such a deep sadness.  I could travel anywhere.  I could live anywhere in the world.  He felt as imprisoned here as I had felt in the U.S., but he couldn’t leave.  What developed country would issue a visa to a young single man with no assets and no job?

I left Ecuador for the last time with my precious document in hand.  This time, I boarded the plane with no regrets.  As hard as it had been to leave my life as a volunteer, I had created new opportunities for myself.  I had gone on to love again, though I had kept those I loved here close to my heart.  I had kept their language alive on my tongue and taught it to others.  My life would always honor Ecuador, not as a Peace Corps Volunteer, but as an RPCV who wore her memories with pride.

Funding Request!  
Esmeraldas Youth Skills Workshops

The Fundacion de Progreso Social Manos Unidas is requesting funds for two upcoming workshops on handicrafts and light industrial arts (artisan and welding skills) in the coastal town of Esmeraldas.  The request has come from PCV Tyler Warmack (’06 –’08) who is currently working with Manos Unidas.  In their words, “the aim of the workshops realistically addresses the basic needs of the community's youth, and equips them with skills that enable them to earn money, secure jobs, and learn how to manage their lives healthily and successfully.”

Manos Unidas was founded to combat the challenges that youth face growing up and living in marginalized barrios of Esmeraldas. They see unemployment as one of the largest contributors to social problems such as lack of access to quality education, teenage pregnancy, the spread of HIV/AIDS, poor nutrition, low self-esteem, violence, and drugs. After years of work in the social sector, the foundation has come to the realization that productivity is a key aspect to development; and Manos Unidas is now developing an alternative for the youth of Esmeraldas creating a venue to educate them socially and economically.

With your support, Manos Unidas can more effectively run their training programs and help more youth to finance their education and effectively support themselves and their families.  To date, about one half of the requested $986 has been raised.  Please donate today at: www.friendsofecuador.org.

Ecuador in Transition: A Lurch to the Left

Ecuadorians certainly knew which way they were heading when they voted for Rafeal Correa in the second presidential election on November 26, 2006. In what has been referred to as the most ideologically polarized race since 1978, Correa’s socialist agenda and anti-US stance was a stark contrast to the conservative ticket of his opponent, millionaire banana magnate Alvaro Noboa. Some even say that Correa’s popularity took off only after he received widely publicized support from Venezuela’s leftist President Hugo Chávez, who in polls is popular among 65-80% of Ecuadorians.

By capitalizing on the vote of the many Ecuadorians who are disillusioned with the current political system, Correa won the presidential election with ease. Shortly after swearing in on January 15th, Correa secured further support by visiting Andean indigenous communities with Chávez and Bolivia’s leftist President Evo Morales (see photo below).

Despite substantial public support, Correa will not find his first months in office to be easy. In his way stands Ecuador’s Congress, whose power Correa seeks to reduce by calling a national assembly possessing the authority to rewrite Ecuador’s constitution.

Correa has repeatedly stated that Ecuador’s Congress and its “political mafias” look after their own interests and are the cause of Ecuador’s economic and political instability. Congress, in turn, has drawn its battle lines by way of their vice president, who recently stated to the press that Correa seeks a “totalitarian system” and that Congress will not accept a change to the nation’s nine-year old constitution.

Political battles between Ecuador’s executive and legislative branches are typically resolved in favor of the latter, with blocked presidential agendas or deposed presidents being common. But given Correa’s popularity, Congress is finding it difficult to stymie the new president’s demand for reform. Legislators’ attempts to delay Correa’s call for a plebiscite on whether to revise the constitution have resulted in popular street protests in Quito and concessionary statements made by Congress.

As long as Correa maintains his popularity, Congress will have little option but to give in to his demands, lest they welcome their own political demise at the hands of an angry public. Yet, by allowing Correa a revised constitution, Congress could be inviting an even greater loss of power.

The interests of the US are also taking a beating as Correa’s grip on power strengthens. Besides rejecting the US free trade agreement, Correa is opposed to extending a contract leasing an area on the Pacific coast that the US military depends on for one of its two forward-deployed air bases in Latin America.

How far can Correa go whilst making so many powerful political enemies in so short a period of time? For insight to that question, one might look to Chavez’s steady rise toward absolutism in his own country. But one could also recall the fateful term of President Roldos, another reformist who won Ecuador’s last great ideologically polarized presidential race in 1978. Not only were his policies effectively blocked by a resistant Congress, but his term was cut short in a plane crash that rouses suspicion to this day.

Congratulations to Ecuador’s New PTO, Dana Platin!

On the wintry evening of February 10th a merry group of RPCVs, former Peace Corps-Ecuador staff, and their friends and relatives met at the house of Ecuador’s former Program Training Officer (PTO), Michael Ketover, in Rockville, Maryland. 

Aside from just wanting to hang out in the New Year, the group met to celebrate Dana Platin’s recent promotion from the APCD of the Youth and Families (Y&F) program to the PTO position –second in command after Country Director Cisco Ruybald.  Dana certainly comes to the role with excellent experience.  After her initial service in Ecuador (’97–’00) as a Y&F volunteer Dana received her Masters in Public Health at the University of San Francisco in Quito.  She then served a couple terms as technical trainer for the Y&F program in Ecuador and helped Peace Corps-Peru design and implement their first Y&F program.  Dana earned herself the APCD spot soon afterward and was in charge of the Y&F program for two and a half years.

The get-together was organized through Evite.com, an online site for simplifying event planning.  Although the list of invitees started out small –based on RPCVs who the Ketovers knew were in the area– the number of invitations quickly increased as the original invitees added the email addresses of others who might want to make it.  RPCVs as far northeast as New York, as far west as Oregon and as far south as North Carolina were added to the growing list of names, as well as two RPCVs presently residing in Japan and the Dominican Republic.

Although not all of the invitees made it to the get-together, around five different omnibuses were represented spanning from 1997 to 2006.  The list of attendees included former Country Director Ruben Hernandez and his wife Arlene, Dana Platin, Barbara Fleck, Christine Bixiones, Claire Tebbets, Beth Blacklow, Caitlin Gerdts, Jocelyn Getgen, Daniel Dedeo, Daniel Lapidus, Liz Lehman, John Varrieur, Andrea Vaughn, Stefan Chacon, as well as various friends and family members of the RPCVs.

Letters Home: PCV Amber Foreman
June 27, 2006

Hola a todos!

How is everyone doing?  I'm good, having finally caught up on a little bit of the sleep I was denied during the fiestas.   More on that later.  Did you see la seleccion (the Ecuadorian World Cup Team) give England a run for their money on Sunday?  I was so proud of those boys.  Stupid David Beckham.  We almost had a goal in the first 14 minutes if it wouldn’t have been for that darn post at the top of the net.   We played so well.  Its hard to play against a team that is so much taller than you because they have the advantage on penalty shots and "head" shots (is there a word for that, you know when the ball is flying through the air and the players jump up to hit it with their heads?).   As you can see I am an emerging soccer fan.

It was truly amazing to be in a Latin American country during the World Cup.  I was especially happy to be here during this historic team.   We have never advanced past the first round before (our region is super competitive, so we don't get a cake-walk entry like the US whose region is considerably easier).  Heheh, so if you noticed "we" is Ecuador and I have been told by at least a million Ecuadorians that the US would never qualify if they were in our region.   Don't get me wrong, I love the US, but I didn't really watch soccer until I got here.  Therefore, I was really gunning for Ecuador’s team.

Ecuadorians really needed something to celebrate about.  Life is hard here and it made me so happy that they did so well.   There was electricity in the air on game days.  Everyone was so proud of our boys.  After the game there wasn't so much a sense of disappointment as there was a sense of pride that we, a poor, tiny country the size of Colorado, played and played well against the best of the best.  As soon as the game ended there was a chant of "mission accomplished" throughout the country.   

In a fairy tale, we would have won it all but this is real life.  I will interject that had we been tied and had to play 30 more minutes, we would have totally won bc we were better conditioned than the English.   The most important thing is that we believed and had faith and for 2 weeks Ecuadorians truly lived our national futbol motto, si se puede!