Two weeks just isn’t enough, but now there’s work to do.

I love Macas. I love the culture and the smallish town feel. I love my family and friends here. Saying I love what I do here is the biggest understatement of my life. I am so happy. I’m not quite ready to leave and if it weren’t for Aaron and Yuki I’m not sure I would. These two weeks have flown by.

My days look very similar to last summer. Wake up, eat and head to the orphanage until lunch. While I am there I struggle through my Spanish (albeit less and less) and split my time between all of the kids and usually have Max hot on my tail. I change diapers (giving the older girls a break) and help feed the babies. I head home for lunch for a couple hours and then back to the orphanage until early evening. I return home eat dinner, text, FaceTime or Skype. I watch an episode of Downton Abbey and crash. Lather, rinse, repeat. I could maintain this schedule for months and be content.

For two days I did get a pleasant break in my routine. Edwin asked if I wanted to invite Max to Hope House to stay for a couple days to give him the experience of being in a home and living with a family. I asked Angelica who manages the orphanage and after a quick conversation it was decided he could come for a couple days from 7:00 in the morning to 6:00 at night. Having Max over was nothing short of fabulous. He was certainly intimidated by the house and all the new faces in it so we retreated to my room where he was happy and comfortable. We napped, enjoyed the new Slingbox (thanks, Aaron!!) to watch cartoons and a Husky basketball game. We spoke a little baby Spanish to each other and played a lot. We cuddled for hours and he ate all of my snacks. He still laughed at me every single time I changed his diapers even as my speed and skills got better. It was priceless time for the two of us to be together and alone. It was a lovely break from my routine and his I would imagine. Napping in the orphanage is never quiet.

In the midst of my simple routine I try and take many moments to fully process what the kids tell me. This isn’t so simple. Before I continue I really have to address how naive I have been since last summer. The older kids I spoke with last summer were mostly there because they were in some sort of transition period. Parents may have not wanted the responsibility of a teenager anymore so they dumped them and the orphanage works to find a family member that is willing take them in. As I mentioned before some had incest in the home (which I have learned is fairly common in the Shuar culture) so they were removed permanently and dad goes to jail (which is next door to the orphanage). All stories are horrible and are a lot to process. I’d assumed that all of the older kids were here in a temporary fashion.

I was sitting on top of the climbing structure with Diana, one of the older girls who lives there. She tends to be a bit of an outlier; when the other girls are dancing or playing soccer she observes from the side and I usually go join her. I asked her how long she had been living there and when she responded with “Cuatro años.” I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. I asked her if she knew how long she would live there and she just shrugged. I feared a look of sadness would cross my face so I quickly changed the subject with the hopes it would clear my mind. Max is always an easy subject with the older kids because he is so well liked. She told me she remembered when Max came in as an infant. She also told me that Sergio and Jessica (other little ones) have no parents either and came as infants too. The next day I was talking to Ruben who has one if of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. I asked him how old he was and he told me he was 12. I asked how long he’d lived there and replied “Mas.” We chatted a bit more and he indicated that he didn’t remember not living there. I then realized that where Ruben currently was is the exact future that Sergio, Jessica and Max have ahead of them. Ruben is kind, smart and charismatic. He does well in the orphanage but I worry how orphanage life-skills will transfer to the real world when he finds himself on his own. Just to punctuate these conversations 30 minutes before I left the orphanage for the last time a new arrival came. A tiny baby girl who is only a couple weeks old. She arrived with no name, no family history and a tiny tumor on the bridge of her nose. Aside from that I know nothing else about her. It pained me that I wouldn’t be around to help her along the way.

Leaving on Wednesday was predictably heartbreaking for many of us. I walked into the nursery after I got back from lunch and Max was laying in his crib staring off into space. He wouldn’t look at me until I went to pick him up and he just laid his head on my shoulder. We sat together on the adult bed for a while. I told him in Spanish that I was leaving the next day. He simply responded by saying “No” and refused to leave my side until I left. The older girls and I agreed on “No chau, solamente hasta luego.” Some of them started crying which in turn led to tears from me. When it came time to leave I tried to hand Max off to one of the girls and things for him and I just fell apart.

So, what’s next? Frankly, I have no idea. Aaron and I want to pursue adopting Max, we both agree on that. The papers that make him adoptable are finally being filed by the orphanage. Because Ecuador is a Hague Adoption Convention country adoption like this will be tricky. It’s likely he could be adopted in country before we even have a chance to take a swing at it. Ecuador has greatly increased their criteria for adoption and it’s more difficult than it has been in the past. Hopefully Max catches a break here, he’s earned it. One thing that eases me into going home is the realization that I will likely be more productive in his adoption by being stateside. Reality is that there is only so much I can do with an iPad in Ecuador. It has to be mentioned that Aaron is putting a lot of trust and faith in me when I say that this little boy should be our son.

Leaving is hard, especially when I don’t know the next time I’ll be back to Macas. I could spend a very extended time in there but clearly I have a lot of work to do at home. I’ll find my way back someday.

I have to say I am a very very lucky girl. I’m lucky that my husband supports me in this insane passion to travel and get dirt under my nails. I am lucky to have amazing support from my friends. I’m lucky that my family at Hope House happily takes me in. I am so lucky to be able to go to the orphanage and spend my days there. I have been given so much more than I deserve. Lucky, lucky me.

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Macas: Part 2, 2014

As my summer in Ecuador reached it’s swan song I drug my feet in writing my last blog entry. I knew why I was hesitant: I loved my time in Macas, I loved the feeling of home at Hope House, I loved the kids at the orphanage and felt as if I’d been beneficial in a way I’ve never been professionally. If I wrote that last entry that could mean this particular chapter would be over. I missed all the loves in my life back in the Pacific Northwest and I missed my dog like crazy, but I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye, not that anyone ever is. I know some wise people who won’t say it, they’d rather let someone else say it first.

I returned to Seattle. The school year started, I shared stories of my adventure with my students. I tried to tie in the lessons I learned with the hope that what I was sharing would somehow resonate with them. I sat with my grandmother in her nursing home room and we cried through my stories of kids at the orphanage and she was fascinated to hear about the traditional clothes worm. I told stories and showed pictures of my boy Maximiliano, Victoria, Dora and the other kids to anyone who would listen. I regularly missed them and hoped the were safe, happy and healthy.

The dream of adopting Max grew more and more unlikely to the point that it is just shy of impossible. Around November I started thinking of Macas less and less. I’d been genuinely sad and perhaps it was my mind’s way of forcing a little self-preservation on my heart.

Life almost moves on.

Despite protecting myself I thought of Max every morning over coffee thanks to a framed picture of he and I that sits in my kitchen (K.C., I love you so much for that gift!). One day I got a message on Facebook from my beautiful friend and employee at the orphanage, Diana. She told me that Max was finally walking on his own. Not only was he walking, but he’d fallen off of a wall in the yard at the orphanage and hurt his head pretty bad. Somewhere between the sadness of missing Max’s first steps and wanting to protect the sweet head I’d smelled so many times hoping I could imprint his scent in my memory I felt a little homesick. I missed Victoria who at the age of 14 was so patient with my Spanish and once we became closer she’d laugh at how horribly I’d botch words. I missed teaching all of the kids how to throw a football and countless hours of playing catch. I missed everything.

So I did a little research and discovered I had enough frequent flyer miles to go back to Ecuador for midwinter break. I could only go for two weeks, but that’s better than nothing.

But why am I going back? Just because I want to doesn’t mean that I always can. As I doubted why I was returning people asked me why I was going back. I didn’t really have an answer and I still don’t. I’m starting to think it’s the little things I miss so much.

Running into town with Silvia to snack on street grilled pinchos and staying up late chatting with Lisandro became the norm for me last summer. Learning new card games from Angel and Moises combined with a little smack talking quickly showed us that a language barrier wasn’t ever a problem. I didn’t realize it at the time but Hope House felt like home.

The dirt road up the hill to the orphanage became so familiar to me and brought an instant smile to my face and more spontaneous selfies than I’ve ever needed to take of myself (those are acceptable when you’re traveling solo, yeah?!). How I’m not going to run straight up that hill this coming Monday morning is beyond me.

As I write this I’m sitting in first class (chau to those frequent flyer miles!) on the first of three flights I have and three hours into what will be roughly 36 hours of travel when you add on a bus ride from Quito to Macas. I am amused that with all this travel I’ll only have ten full days there, but what the hell, why not? My life at home supports my urge to travel and volunteer and even more so I get to indulge in the friendships and family I have gained. I get to eat passion fruit the size of my fist and Silvia’s home cooking which is top notch. So many little things I’m looking forward to. Chicharrónes.

I think I know everyone at Hope House right now. The kids at the orphanage are sure to have changed. Diana is in Quito now, but she is meeting me at the airport tomorrow. Max is where I left him and I’ve come to realize he may not remember me. Regardless of what happens I get to go back and enjoy every second of the next chapter in this adventure in an Ecuadorian town that was so good to me.

And maybe I’ll have something to write as a last blog, but it’s not likely.

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What have I gotten myself into…

There are a few things I know.

1. My ability to speak Spanish barely exists and it would be safe to say it is atrocious. 2. I love my summer vacation days at home with Yuki that start around noon followed with seeing how long I can keep Aaron up at night watching TV with me. (He gets up at 5:30 and I can usually squeeze an extra hour of company out of him during the summer.) 3. I have a hard time turning down an opportunity for adventure. When my dear friend Alisa told me about a colleague she met through work who runs a home for displaced youth in Ecuador with his wife, I knew I had to learn more. After some research to see if the opportunity to volunteer did in fact exist, it quickly became apparent that I was very interested. After a number of meetings with Kacey and Marco Toctaquiza of Hope House they assured me that my teaching knowledge combined by my willingness to try anything would be beneficial to their organization. I knew I needed to bring this crazy idea to The Boss. After many discussions and the pleading of both cases, my husband generously saw beyond his own hesitations: the inconvenience my absence is sure to cause and genuine sadness of missing me Aaron told me he supported this crazy idea. He wasn’t a fan, but he supported my genuine desire to knock off item #1 off of my bucket list. Then one morning under the watchful eyes of two of my fifth grade girls who double checked dates, time and cities from over my shoulder, I bought a plane ticket to Ecuador. And I was eager to trade my lazy summer days with Yuki for the challenge of improving my Spanish.

So I’m currently sitting in Miami International Airport and will be arriving in Quito, Ecuador about five hours from now. I’ll be weaseling my way into the family at Hope House with my Spanish vocabulary of maybe 120 words (which I can confidently say that at best 20% of those I might use properly). I’m going with the hope that they’ll find my hand gestures, fledgling Spanish all the while laughing at myself acceptable if not amusing.

Oh, and I don’t blog either and I don’t read ’em unless they’re football related. Maybe I’m only going to share my adventures with the Internet and the watchful eye of the US Government (sorry Snowden, Ecuador only accepts the cool kids) but I’m going to give this blogging gig a shot. Just like the adventure that is ahead of me and all other new opportunities that are presented to me, I will try anything twice.

To say I’m nervous is an understatement, but like I’ve told my family, friends and students #4 it’s moments like these that I believe you feel the most alive. I have a vague idea of what to expect but certainly I have no idea what I’m in for.

How to stay in touch

I would love to hear from you while I’m gone! I have a hunch that I won’t have much time to myself, but regardless I know I’ll want to hear from home.

Blog: jamie2macas.wordpress.com
Skype: jamie2macas
Email: jamie2macas@gmail.com
Postal address:
Marco Toctaquiza
Correo Central
Macas
Providence Morona Santiago, Ecuador
South America

Attention: Jamie Matthews

If you’re considering sending me a letter I’ll do my best to write back (my students get first priority!). Mail takes about ten days to arrive and I’m headed back to Seattle on August 17th.