Buggin' me...

There is a small bathroom in my host family's house that I use late at night because it is away from their rooms, less noise pollution in all. You catch my drift. Well... on the floor of said bathroom, which you must go down two steps before you get to the door then 2 more steps to enter the bathroom (this is important because its a tiny cubboard bathroom, reminds me of Harry Potter) anyway, by these four steps in the dark you must pay close attention to where you're stepping or you'll end up with a face full of wood/linoleum. So I curve around this mini four step spiral to turn on the light and low and behold a wee beetle is tits up, legs rolling in the wind, trying to turn over. Normally I wouldn't care to observe this creature, but tonight I feel connected to me and this bitty bug, and a bit philosophical. (Also, I have about a million bug bites all over my legs to get me thinking even more on bugs--but that is less of a point than philosophy).

Anywho, me and my bug connection. Here in Euca I feel tits up. I feel meek, I feel powerless, I feel weak. I have no agency. I cannot go where I want to go, I can't do what I want to do; there are requirements. You need a taxi to do that, OK we'll you can't take this taxi, you'll be robbed. You shouldn't go out after dark, and dark is at 6:30pm. Don't walk alone, even if it in the afternoon, its dangerous.

Did I mention that I've been in one minor bus accident, and watched a my neighbor get robbed right outside my house?

I am fine, but Ecua has showed me that I can play the part of meek woman. Someone I have never been comfortable being. I can take the beatings of everyday life here. To quote my Ecua friend Juan: "You must understand that here in Ecuador you are in control of nothing, therefore you can do anything." This is a fallacy, maybe for an Ecuadorian that is true. But there is no way I can take more risks to ensure that I get to do anything. The rules don't bend for me as they would for him. I am not rich, I am not a man, and I am not Ecuadorian.

With that I relate to this bug, who is tits up, because he and I are forced to wag our legs in the wind until something sets us on our feet again, on our own turf. I miss my turf, where I have agency.

I wouldn't trade this experience for the world, because it has taught me so much about myself.

But I definitely wouldn't repeat it. Travel yes. Live no.

And that is what has been "buggin' me."

See you all at Christmas.

( Check out the photos below from my ferriado (vacation). More on FB later, once I get a hold of Katherine's camera. )