grab bag!

Okay.  In lieu of a more structured blog entry, here are some little stories you might enjoy.  

• Once, I sneezed while walking on the sidewalk.  A man leaned out of a bus to yell "cheese!" to me.  Yes, in English.  I could tell he was pretty proud of himself too. 
• Remember how I explained that my bus is always filled far, far over capacity?  Though I kissed any need for personal space goodbye on perhaps my second ride on the TransFloresta and have since adopted a very "Cumbayá" attitude about the whole situation, I cannot say the same for my fellow travelers.  Each day, as the driver invites ever more people onto the bus to stand in the aisle, I feel the frustration radiating from other seated passengers.  Old women grunt, rap the side of the bus with their fists, and scowl at the driver, jowls aquiver.  Earlier this week, a chubby businessman made an impassioned speech, the central thesis of which was "¡No somos papas! ¡Somos adultos!  ¡Seres humanos!" - "We are not potatoes!  We are adults!  Human beings!"  A noble attempt, sir, but the driver could care less.
• On a related note, once, my bus driver had so many people on board that he no longer had sufficient horsepower to climb the mountain and carry us to Quito.  Everyone had to get off and wait for the next bus.
• You know how some people in the states say "sugar!" rather than utter a more vulgar word?  Well, here people replace that same nasty word with "mierrrrcoles!" - "Wednesday!"
• I caught the cook at the Foundation scrubbing out a large pot with an old shoulder pad the other day.  Waste not, want not!
• Until today, I had been very confused about a recurring problem with introductions. Sample conversation:
• person: "¿Y…Cómo se llama Ud. nena?" - What is your name, dear?
• me: "Kate." - Kate 
• person leans in and enunciates as if talking to the hearing impaired: "Digo...CÓMO SE LLAMA UD.?" - I SAY, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?
• me:  "ehhh....Kate.  Me llamo Kate." - errrrm...Kate.  My name is Kate.
• person:  "ahh.  cake."  - "ahh.  cake" 

          So, clever readers, explain to me why people always ask me for my name multiple times.  Give up?!?!  It's because my name sounds VERY MUCH LIKE "¿Qué?" - Spanish for "Whaaaat?"  THEY  THINK I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THEM!!!! SO THEY REPEAT THEMSELVES!!!  CASE CLOSED.  

• One of the abuelitas, a sweet old woman of about ninety, asked me how I'd slept the night before.  As a follow-up question, she asked "With how many?"  She laughed like there was no tomorrow and explained to me that laughter is the secret to old age.  
• Another abuelito speaks a little English and likes to practice with me.  Before he leaves the Foundation each day, he takes my hand and tells me "You are the best star in the sky."  Quite the charmer, that one.