Very early morning meeting today. Bought breakfast at Big Apple Bagel at 5:50am and mentally wonder what time the cashier had to get up in order to serve me my toasted chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese and chai tea.

Carpool to the far side of Grand Rapids in the darkness and pouring rain in order to meet and talk for no less than 5 hours about various curriculum issues, marketing plans and 'big picture' schemes for the small business that I work for. Best idea by far is paying the most popular American Idol contestant to wear a shirt with our logo on it while s/he performs. Genius. More people vote for American Idol from their phones than on a ballot in this country.

Have a classy business lunch by myself and the complimentary wi-fi at Burger King which goes deliciously with a Whopper junior. Considerably disappointed that BK does not offer any type of ice cream dessert. Drive across town to a shoe repair store only to find that for some unexplicable reason they are closed today (though their sign says open daily 9-5). Awesome. Renew books on CD at public library and drop off used clothing at a thrift store.

Gather my courage to tackle the grocery store and the complicated and long list my mom debriefed me on the night before. It is still raining. An hour later still in Family Fare things have gone rather smoothly except for locating the following: naturally dried dates, frozen pig-n-the-blankets and dried basil. Am momentarily confused when asked at the deli if I want my point of deli-sliced turkey to be: oven-roasted, organic, Spartan, Boar's Head, honey-flavored or smoked. I choose Spartan. After checking out discover that the cashier has charged me twice for my asparagus bundle and have to wait in line at customer service so I can reclaim the $2.41 that is rightfully mine (or should I say belongs to mom and dad's credit card).

Fill up the tank. Deposit a check. Listen to my book on CD on the 20 min. drive home and unpack all groceries. Watch an episode of House online. Eat a slice of pizza. Attempt to go for a run but it ends up being a 'brisk' walk in the freezing fog that is Michigan in late April. Try to enjoy my post-run snack of cookies and milk while mom cleans the vomit stains on the rug from the dog from the night before. Almost sneak out of the kitchen when Dad snags me and insists on giving me a detailed and hands-on lesson of "how to replace a broken belt on your household vacuum cleaner" - "it could happen to anyone at anytime". Use said vacuum cleaner to prepare the upstairs for a weekend full of company. Am in the midst of cleaning while listening to my mom's swing CD which is driving me nuts and need a break.

It is still raining.

My Ecua-mom speaks truth to me over instant coffee and pineapple marmalade. I don’t know if it’s her frankness, sincerity or because of the fact that life tends to re-awaken when one travels that makes her words effective, but something is different. Or maybe it is because she is speaking to me in a different language and I have to carefully pay attention and process consciously what she is saying and end up actually listening. In any case she speaks truth and this truth sticks.

My Ecua-mom knows I am a planner. Out of nowhere she starts to talk about how sometimes God’s plans are better than ours and that I should get used to the fact that things don’t always work out the way I want them to. In her words A veces las cosas duras de la vida te tocan a ti y hay que vivirlas nada más. Hay que aceptarlas y pedirle a Dios comprensión (Sometimes there comes a time in life when it is your turn to experience hard times and one just has to get through them. One should just try and accept them and ask God for understanding). These words are spoken to me while I am politely attempting to navigate away from the veringena (eggplant) spread for my tostadas in favor of frutilla (strawberry).

This is the second of wise monologues directed to me over some type of Ecuadorian dish. The first occurred when I came home for lunch one day worried about the details of someone coming to visit and she could tell something was on my mind. She placed a steaming bowl of locro (potato soup) in front of me and drops in fresh slices of aguacate (avocado) and queso (cheese) from across the table. Without even asking what I am worried about, she gives me the breakdown of the word in Spanish. The word in Spanish for ‘to worry’ is preocuparse, which literally means to occupy yourself with something before it happens. My Ecua-mom advises me that this is a complete waste of time because one of two things happens: either you worry about something that does not come to pass and you have worried in vain or you worry about something that does come to pass and thus have had to experience the pain twice.

A similar situation happened to me when I was living with a family in Chile. For some reason I can clearly remember what my madre chilena said and why she said it. It was during the second week of residing in Santiago and I had been out drinking (uncustomary for me at the time) with a group of girls who were not the kind of girls I would normally be friends with. But in a study abroad program, the pecking order is quickly established and if one hesitates in making friends it seems like the opportunities to do so quickly slip away. But my Chilean mom could tell this group was not right for me. The next morning before breakfast she held me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and said Sarah, Dios te puso en tu camino, no en el camino de otros (God put you in your own road in life, not in anyone else’s). That next weekend I went camping with a completely different group of friends which turned out to be one of the closest groups of friends I’ve had while traveling.

They say that one of the great ironies of Ecuador is that while it produces some of the best coffee in the world it is impossible to get a decent cup of coffee. However, if I have a choice between genuine conversation with mi señora and granulated instant coffee or a cup of the finest expresso, I choose to stir in my powdered NesCafé, listen to mi señora and her Spanish adages and wait for my tostadas to pop out of the toaster so I can slather them with pineapple marmalade.

Even though I was far away from home, I had a really good time on my birthday and my Chilean family and friends made me feel special and loved. On Friday morning, June 9, my mom had told me that I needed to be back home that night at 8:30 pm for a big family dinner for my birthday and I promised her I would be there. I had a really good day on Friday: we had fun in track and field in the morning and then I spent the rest of the day with my language partner, Natalia at the big art exhibit in town (Goya, Picasso, Miro) and then we went out for coffee.
When I opened the door of my apartment at about 8:45 pm I was surprised to see all of my friends and my family sitting in the living room with balloons and lots of food. The night was filled with lots of joking, toasts, great food, music and gifts. The boys brought me flowers, Katie made me chocolate banana cake, Brittany made me fudge, my family gave me some great chilean looking jeans and the whole group got together to give me an authentic chilean bag and socks filled with lots of candy.
After the fun at home we walked down to the corner to the Plaza Nunoa where one of our favorite bars -Hachi Biachi- is located and spent a few more hours talking and sharing stories.
All in all it was one of the most memorable birthdays I have ever had and I feel lucky that I have such a cool group of friends and family here. Thanks guys! I love you all!

Some photos from an evening outside of the city and a refreshing quote . . .

Live with intention.
Walk to the edge.
Listen hard.
Practice wellness.
Play with abandon.
Laugh.
Choose with no regret.
Continue to learn.
Appreciate your friends.
Do what you love.
Live as if this is all there is.
-Mary Anne Radmacher

This weekend we had our first big backpacking trip with ‘la clase de Montanismo.’ The students from mountaineering I, II, and III joined together to hike to the top of a nearby mountain called Provincia. Altogether there were more than 120 of us.
On Friday night at 7pm we met at the university and boarded buses that would take us to the base of the mountain. At about 8:30 we arrived and started climbing and after about 2 and a half hours of intense climbing on steep ascents with rocks and with all of our gear, we arrived at the site for the base camp at 11:30 at night. What was the most difficult for me was not only the difficulty physically but also the difficulty in seeing as we were climbing in complete darkness. Most of the hikers had headlamps but I didn’t and tried to walk in-between those that did.
After a hearty dinner of noodles and sauce my tent group and I (my friends from the exchange program, Mark and Tim) went to bed in the anticipation for a very early start the next morning. Although we were using a two-person tent and had to squeeze it turned out to be an advantage because we were warmer because the temperature was COLD!
We were awakened the next morning at 4am and started climbing at 5am. It was still very dark and again the beginning of the climb was made difficult by the fact that we couldn’t see our footing very well. We had to start climbing early because it would take us a long time to get to the top and then return. What was also hard was that the temperature was very cold but when we started climbing we would get hot, start sweating, and want to shed layers, but when we would stop to rest, our sweaty bodies would grow very cold again.
After many hours of climbing and a few difficult parts with various rock formations, we made it to the top at about 1pm and enjoyed an incredible view while having lunch. We took lots of pictures at the top and although it was very cold, none of us wanted to start the long trek down again. The way down was tough as well because the rocks were slippery and the inclines were steep. After awhile all of our knees and ankles hurt from the stress of not slipping downwards. But everyone was in high spirits because we had conquered the mountain and we passed the time by telling jokes and riddles.
We finally made it down to base camp at about 7pm and made dinner. The night was really fun because one of the guys had brought his guitar and we sang and listened for more than three hours to both old and traditional Chilean music.

It was really hard to get up the next morning as it was raining, cold, and all of our bodies hurt a lot. But after packing up all of our gear we started the hike back to the starting point where the buses would be. Overall, we had a great hike and I especially enjoyed sharing the challenge of the mountain with the diversity of the huge group of people from many different countries.

These past few weeks in Santiago have been chaotic in the streets because the nation’s youth have decided to go on strike. In Spanish they say that all of the high schools and universities are ‘en Paro,’ ‘en Toma,’ or ‘en Huelga.’ All of these terms literally mean that the students have stopped going to class and have taken over the buildings. For us foreigners, this has been very dramatic and unsettling. This is the biggest student protest since the seventies and although it is a privilege and at times exciting to be here it is also scary, confusing and frustrating.
The ‘Paro’ can be scary at times because although the protests are supposed to be non-violent, sometimes the demonstrations get out of control and the police use tear gas, huge water hoses, and physical violence. Every day the protests involve the students standing outside of their high schools shouting, holding up signs, putting the desks and chairs outside on the lawn and in the fences, marching in parades, holding meetings and giving speeches. Some students even stay the night in their high school to show their motivation and determination. For the past two weeks my sisters, who are both in high school, haven’t left the house because my parents think it is too dangerous for them to be involved in the striking.

The student strike is incredible here: it is amazing how the youth are able to band together and organize themselves to fight for change. The students are not striking for unreasonable reasons – in fact they are protesting for very good reasons. They are fighting for a more better and just education. Some of the things they want are cheaper student bus fares, smaller fees in the required college entrance exams, and a more equal education for all.
The university that I attend is also in ‘Paro.’ This means that I don’t have classes which is slightly frustrating because although I support the student movement, I have to finish my work here before I go home. It is not like the students here are striking simply to have time off from school; on the contrary, the days they miss here they have to make up in their summer vacation. On the college campus there are signs, protests, marches, speeches, meetings and widespread support. It is impressive how everyone is involved and that it seems that even the wealthier students see the need for change.
A recent article in the New York Times has described the events in Chile. I don’t think it has given enough weight to what is actually going on, but it is interesting to see the United State’s perspective on the issue. I have included a few quotes.

“Less than three months after she took office promising to lead a government that welcomed greater citizen participation, President Michelle Bachelet is facing her first domestic crisis. To the surprise of many here, the challenge comes not from the right but from a group expected to be sympathetic to her center-left coalition: high school students.”

“In protests that began in mid-May, more than 700,000 teenagers have walked out of classes at public high schools, demanding the overhaul of an education system they say is inferior and discriminatory. They have occupied several hundred schools, sleeping there overnight with sympathetic parents bringing them meals, and last week thousands marched in the streets of the capital here and in other cities in this nation of 16 million.”

“Their demands include more teachers and school construction, so as to reduce class sizes, and also the elimination of fees for the national college entrance exam and free bus fare. With prices of copper, the country's chief export, at record highs and government coffers bulging with years of budget surpluses, the students maintain that the state can afford to invest more in education.”

“The student movement enjoys widespread popular support here. The backing increased last week after the national police beat some marchers and sprayed others, a few as young as 12 and many dressed in black and white school uniforms, with tear gas and water cannons. The head of the police special forces unit has since been fired, and Ms. Bachelet has condemned what she described as the "excesses, abuses and unjustified violence."

It will be interesting to see how the actions of the students change the quality of education and I hope that their demands are met. For all of us studying here, the determined youth continue to be an example for us as to how strong a movement can be even if the ages of the supporters is young.

New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/05/world/americas/05chile.html?ex=1150171200&en=5ece87e4f87e28d1&ei=5070&emc=eta1

This weekend we had a big trip to a city in the south of Chile called Pucón. The trip was organized by the exchange program, Council, and so we didn’t have to plan anything. It was strange to travel with a group of 25 gringos after having spent so much time with Chileans, but it was fun to feel completely comfortable with people of my own age and culture.
The first day about eight of us decided to go horseback riding in the mountains and we had an absolute blast. There weren’t exactly rules like there are in the U.S. about where you can go and what you can do and if you have to stay in a line or not. Basically we spent three hours of pure freedom on horseback. We were able to gallop, explore, race and feel like Chilean huasos or cowboys. The scenery was beautiful and the air felt refreshingly clean after being in smoggy Santiago for so long. After the long ride we relaxed in the natural hot springs that Pucon is known for. Pucon is famous for being a touristy city, but since it is winter here and in the off-season there weren´t very many people.


Another reason that Pucon is well-known is that it is home to a large, active volcano called Villarica. During the day the huge, snow-covered volcano towers over the town and you can see smoke constantly billowing from the top. At night the top of the volcano glows a deep orange. There are several tour companies that take groups up to the top and provides them with the proper equipment and several guides. The trek is very intense and the ascent and descent together takes about 10 hours and can only be done in good weather because there are frequent storms at the top of the volcano and the excess of toxic gases at the top makes it dangerous as well. Several of us had decided that we wanted to try and climb the volacano and rose early Saturday morning with an attitude of perserverence.
We drove to the tour company and were outfitted with helmets, ice picks, special boots, pants, and a jacket, a backpack, sunglasses (the glare of the sun on the snow can burn your retinas - they told us) and cramp-ons (gear that fits on boots to walk on snow and ice). Our group numbered 14 (8 guys and 6 girls) and after cramming into two vans, we drove to the base of the volcano.
After a brief explanation of how to use all of the equipment, the dangers of climbing the volcano, and the plan for the day, we started the long, slow, climb in the snow up to the first checkpoint. I can honestly say that climbing the Villarica volcano was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my entire life. Not only was it intensely physically demanding because we were using and wearing bulky equipment and walking in snow in very steep inclines, but it was mentally demanding as well because we were constantly looking at how far the distance to the top remained.
At the first checkpoint many of us were already exhausted from climbing almost straight up for two hours and we were advised to eat things with a lot of calories. We inhaled juice, candy and cookies in preparation for the next leg of the trek. There were two girls who turned back at this point knowing that they wouldn´t be able to make it any farther. I was having doubts myself about my ability and current physical condition but I wanted to give it a shot anyways.
I think the second part of the climb was the hardest for me. The wind was blowing hard, pieces of snow and ice would fly at us, the incline was grueling and I was very very tired. At times I wanted to give up and it was literally all I could do to lift one foot in front of the other. My feet felt heavy becuase of the weighty snowboots and cramp-ons and I was afraid that I would fall and slip down the slope of the volcano. Our guides were constantly reminding us to make sure that all of the spades of the cramp-ons were deep in the snow so that we wouldn´t slip - because, they advised us, if we slipped, we could reach high speeds of sliding down the slippery volcano in mere seconds. I remember hating the fact that I had decided to do this and promised myself I would never do such a thing again. I tried taking my mind off the pain by thinking about other things, but all I could think about was how hard it was to keep going.
Finally we reached the final resting point before reaching the top and we practically collapsed in a semi-secluded spot from the wind and gobbled down any remaining food. At this point two other girls decided not to continue and that left me, one other girl, and the eight guys to make it to the top. The peak of the volcano still seemed so far away and our guide told us that it was another two and a half hours from this point. During the final part of the hike I felt a second wind and it was a little easier because although the incline was severe (and I felt like I wanted to hold on to someone´s hand) it was so difficult that we would walk for ten minutes and rest for ten seconds. When the incline became more steep and icy, we would walk for five minutes and rest for ten seconds. Pretty soon the guide was directing us to literally rest as much as we were walking. The scariest feeling was that I became so tired and felt weak, that I was afraid that I would lose control of my balance or footing and fall. But fortunately I didn´t and we kept walking and soon began to smell the actual fumes from the volcano.

We reached a place where we had to leave our backpacks for the final ascent. We put on our gas masks and began the last hard climb up to the actual opening of the volcano. I have never been so excited to reach a certain goal - it was so fulfilling and satisfying to get to the top and look over the edge into the giant hole of the volcano. The air was hot and the gases from the volcano burned our throats. For several minutes we simply stood and watched the inside of the volcano. We actually got to see hot, bright orange lava splash and erupt inside. Some of the guys got a picture of it but I was to intent on staring at it to think of taking pictures. After awhile, our guide said we had to start our descent, which would take an equally long time, because we had to make it to the bottom before dark.

Although going down was difficult as well because of the incline and the footing, we were proud and satisfied that we had made it to the top. After many more hours we finally made it back to the base and one of the guys actually threw up from the exertion. All of us literally threw ourselves on the snow so tired that we didn´t want to move. Although climbing the volcano was a challenge and a huge natural high, I am not sure I want to do anything like that again for a long, long time.