The vertical birth center crosses intercultural boundaries by employing western and local medical techniques. The clinic has an indigenous midwife and an obstetrician tending the patient. The pregnant woman stands vertically while she tugs on a hanging rope, and is assisted by the midwife. The mother-to-be works with gravitational pressure in having the baby to come out. As soon as the delivery occurs, the obstetrician and the nurse take the patient and her baby to another room to rest. Meanwhile, the midwife administers an herbal remedy to reduce the mother’s pain. Both patients are watched until the mother feels strong enough to leave.

Although this vertical birth center is a step in the right direction, there are still questions and issues that remain about maternal health care, here. For one, finding a way to bring this type of service to women in isolated communities remains a big challenge. Another challenge is how to encourage more women to consider going to the clinic versus staying home. Hambi Wasi is working on marketing its services by talking about its health and financial benefits. They are raising awareness of their services through radio advertisements and much-publicized visits to neighboring communities.

Since the vertical birth center has just opened, we haven’t had any patients yet. Hopefully, the message has got out and interest will arise for it. I am also hoping to be able to see a vertical birth before I finish my volunteer program. Thank you for taking an interest in Hambi Wasi and their efforts to improve maternal and infant healthcare. If you wish further information, please follow this link: http://www.yanapuma.org/en/volec_JambaHuasi.php

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Well, thanks for accompanying me along the way! I hope this helps you see the natural beauty of the land and its people.

One day in Otavalo, I ran an errand to buy candies for my clinic because we were running low on them – these are sold to patients waiting for their medical consultation. So I went to a store to buy the candies, and the vendor asked me why I was getting so much. I told her it was for my job, and then she quickly responded, “Oh! You work at the chifa (Chinese restaurant) down the street?” I laughed and said, “No, I work at a health clinic called ‘Jambi Huasi”. She just said “OK”, and then it got awkward and quiet as I paid, picked up my bag of candies, and left.

I also get many comments about my eyes. When people ask where I’m from and I say the U.S., they often reply, “But you can’t be from there, your eyes are set too narrow, you don’t look American.” Or, they ask if I can speak Mandarin Chinese. When moments like these happen, I explain to them that I am from America, and that my dad is Mexican-American and that my mom is Japanese. This totally alters their pre-conception of what an American should look like. It literally “blows their mind.”

Even  my fellow Americans seem to live with some stereotypes, too. When I went to a place called “Yachana Lodge” in the Amazons, I was having a conversation in English with a tourist from the States. About ten minutes into the talk, she asked me if I’ve ever been to the U.S. I responded by saying, “Why of course, I’m from California!” Then she said, “Well, then you definitely have!” and abruptly left, feeling embarrassed. Another time, a group of U.S. college students came to Jambi Huasi to learn about indigenous medicine practices, so I gave them an informative chat about this. At the beginning of my talk, I asked where they were from. One student said, “Minnesota”, and then another one piped, “It’s in the United States!” I paused and looked at them saying, “Yeah, I know.” I don’t blame them, we all make harmless and innocent assumptions at times.

Overall, these incidents make me think of how I identify myself and how others identify me. I identify myself as American while a majority of people here, foreigners and natives alike, see me as someone from an Asian country. In some of these conversations, I went with their assumptions to avoid awkward complications of explaining the truth. But I now realize that I should be honest in saying who I am. Just because I’m not what a stereotypical American looks like doesn’t mean I have to define myself as something else. I am the one who has to do this, not them. If I am reluctant to express who I am, it is disrespectful to my identity and that portion of the American tapestry that I represent. Also, I have to give the benefit of the doubt to my audience, hoping they are indeed sensitive enough to recognize the plurality of cultures. So the next time I run into a situation like this – knowing where people’s assumptions are coming from – I will explain to them a little of whom I am. And besides, it would be a good way to get a conversation going and also to build a better intercultural perspective.

We’ve visited two indigenous communities and gave a promotional event in Otavalo (the main city in the area) as well. Along the way, I’ve come to realize that the other parts of my project will be impossible to do, like doing the school visits. At this point, I’m focusing primarily on trips to surrounding indigenous communities and promoting Jambi Huasi in neighboring towns and cities. All of this is much more time consuming than I had originally thought – especially from what I learned in trying to get the project started and engaging broad support from the team.

When I presented my ideas to my supervisors (the director and the administrator at Jambi Huasi) for the first time, they told me that they liked the ideas and thought they were great. But then nothing happened for a couple of weeks. So I tried attempting some tasks on my own. But that wasn’t possible because I realized that I could do very little without my supervisors’ support. For example, I would have to contact municipal offices for permission to carry out promotional activities in their towns or cities. So it would seem strange for me to just randomly walk into a governmental building and ask to do all this without having a legitimate backing from my organization.

At this point, I knew that I had to find a better way to engage my supervisors.

When I talked to them the second time, I asked them how they would like to get this project done. They threw in several ideas and seemed to show a lot more interest than before. After this conversation, things started to get going. Perhaps it was because I made it more of a group project instead of an individual one. It makes sense, because if I were in their place, I wouldn’t want some inexperienced foreigner telling me how to do my job.

So even though I am now in the back seat of this project, I think we are getting a better outcome. I now know how to get things done with the local knowledge that Jambi Hausi has. For example, my administrator knows where to make multiple copies of pamphlets and fliers at cheap prices, and has connections at the municipal offices about getting our promotional events easily approved. I realized I am involved in a much more sustainable outreach model, because if I were leading it, there would be no successor to continue it when I leave. Now, I have hope that Jambi Huasi will sustain this project after my departure, because they are invested in it.

And with all this progress, I’ve learned a lot about having patience, too.  Back home in the US, there’s a lot of pressure to get things done as soon as possible. Here in Ecuador tasks get done at a more leisurely rate. For me, it’s a nice change of air because the group and I still get things done without ever feeling an unnecessary pressure on us. With consensus and acknowledgement established, we each do our part, feel a group sense of accomplishment and make the organization feel more effective and good about itself.

With a set plan in hand we are doing well. In fact, we have another community visit scheduled this week and are planning a huge promotional event next month for introducing a new service at Jambi Huasi. So things are good now, there’s enough work to keep me busy, but not feel overwhelmed. I can’t wait for the upcoming events, and when they do, I look forward to telling you all about them!

As I get outside, I see my host dad waiting in his old pick-up truck, engine on, and ready to go. I step in and we head to the nearby forest, spending the better part of four hours cutting and gathering wood. We return to the community and deliver the goods at around 10:30, and then head home to eat a late breakfast. After this, I ask the family to gather in the living room to give them their Christmas gifts.

Usually, my host family only gives gifts to the youngest siblings, Andy and Koraima, because of limited financial means. They aren’t extremely poor, it´s just that they only make enough money to get by. I bought gifts for everyone, ranging from chocolates to toys. The looks on their faces as they received their gifts made my day. They were so happy to receive a present for Christmas – something that has almost never happened for the older siblings and parents. I was not worried about not receiving a present myself because I had already received a better gift from them. Just being there and experiencing the moment was all that I needed to ask for.

Later that afternoon, my host family and I went to a neighboring community’s (Batán) soccer field to cheer on both my older host sister’s and dad’s soccer teams play in the championships. Unfortunately, they lost, but both did get second place in their divisions. We returned home after the games and watched movies on the television until dinner was ready.

Dinner was special, indeed, that night. It was the first time my host family ate turkey for Christmas. Many family members (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins) came for the dinner and helped pitch in to buy the turkey. It was a beautiful moment spent with the host family. We did a prayer before eating, thanking God for how lucky we are just to have enough to enjoy a good life and being together as family. We also thanked God for this opportunity, knowing that others don’t have as much, and reminded ourselves to be humble for what we have. When the prayer was finished, we ate the turkey, which was really quite good. It was accompanied with rice, many vegetables and gravy; the especially tasty gravy is called “crema de champiñones” (mushroom cream gravy) in Spanish. I enjoyed this meal in that it reminded me of home and the large gathering we have with family and friends.

I very much enjoyed this Christmas day with my host family. It was the best Christmas I’ve had because my “present” was learning so much more about appreciation and thankfulness for what we already have. All those moments, from the gift giving to the dinner gave me the ability to find happiness and contentment in simple, yet meaningful ways. I didn’t need all the decorations, presents, and commercialism to make it feel like Christmas. The sentiment was there the entire day I spent with my host family.

My two jobs at Jambi Huasi are being the arrival receptionist and running medical deliveries. As the receptionist, I greet patients, write up their medical information, deal with payments, and give them receipts they use to see the doctors. In the second job, I deliver medical samples (like blood, urine, and feces) to the nearby laboratory and deliver documents to the main city hospital.

At first, the three-language barrier caused me considerable frustration and exhaustion. But, over these last two months, I have settled in and find I can converse more easily with folks. Although the jobs are relatively straightforward, I have grown rather complacent and now seek to contribute more in my placement here in Ecuador. I have observed that there are days with very few patients thus leaving me with a lack of things to do. As I want to be of use here, I am exploring how to do my job better.  In discussion with my GCY program manager, she advised that I observe and determine if there are any problems or improvements that need to be addressed at the clinic. By doing that, I could see whether solving some of these problems could become an alternative job for me. The administrator at my work gave me the green light to proceed and bring forth my ideas.  With that in mind, I made a work plan to address these issues. My next step is to present possible solutions to the clinic director and administrator.

When drawing out these plans, I observed three issues. The first, I’ve already mentioned – having a low number of patients on any given day. For example, at mid-week we had an entire day where we received only five patients. The second thing I saw was the lack of awareness about Jambi Huasi and its mission. I met with locals in Otavalo to discuss the organization and many were unaware of its existence. Some thought it only dealt with indigenous needs. As part of Jambi Huasi’s mission is to provide alternative medicine choices familiar to indigenous peoples, a good number of the mestizo population didn´t understand they could also find treatment there. The third problem I noted came from the conversations I had with my host-family and neighbors in my community. They talked about the lack of convenient access to health care. Major issues regarding this are: discrimination, distance, transportation costs, and high prices at the hospitals and other health clinics.

Taking all this in mind, I planned one solution with three components to it. My proposal includes a continuous promotional and outreach campaign for Jambi Huasi. The first component includes planning promotional events in Otavalo and neighboring towns. This would include staffed information booths set up in plazas and having the doctors (both western and indigenous) do easy clinics for passerbys who are interested. We will give fliers with discounts for our services for people to come to Jambi Huasi. The organization did do one promotional event the first month I was here, but they haven´t done another since. So this plan would continue that idea and have it more frequently, like once every two weeks. I mentioned this to my administrator and he asked that I take responsibility for planning such an event in Otavalo during the month of January – so it looks like that´s a start to things.

The second component will be to make a video about indigenous medicine. The video will have footage of the indigenous doctors giving treatments to patients, and will have explanations for the types of treatments there are and what they do. It will be used in places like high schools and universities to explain and raise awareness of indigenous medicine – possibly inspiring students to take an interest in studying it, or visit Jambi Huasi to get treated in either form of medicine. The video can be offered to curious foreign visitors, too. Perhaps Jambi Huasi can collaborate with travel agencies or the government´s Ministry of Tourism to attract customers on a national and international scale. We have had foreign patients here that try indigenous medicine as a cultural experience. This could certainly help with needed income for the clinic.

The third component will be arranging visits to nearby indigenous communities to address the lack of convenient access to health care treatment. This will be accomplished by setting up a regular clinic day in a community or two. We will provide basic and essential treatments like a doctor, nurse, obstetrician, and indigenous doctors. Most likely this will be done once every two weeks in coordination with the promotional events. Arranging these visits will help address the issues of distance, discrimination, and transportation costs for the indigenous communities. I believe the three components will help Jambi Hausi establish a bigger presence in the community and draw in more patients.

Planning this project has given me a renewed sense of purpose and excitement I really like my job. With one project all ready to start, I will need to present the remainder of my proposed program to the director and adminstrator and seek their approval. Hopefully they will give me positive input and approval so I can map out the specific steps my organization and I need to take to accomplish these goals – like logistics and funding. Remembering what my program manager said, I´ve seen that setting aside my frustrations and learning to be more patient and observant has helped me see the big picture of what more I can do in my job. I am hopeful that our collective initiative will move forward.  Whatever the results are, and whether or not it will be successful, I look forward to learning from this experience. So stay tuned and watch us go!

“Here’s the cuy, I hope you enjoy it!” says my host-dad as he puts plates down in front of Joe, Liza, and me. The plates of just-broiled meat and vegetables steamed in front of us. At first, this was something unusual as cuy are considered pets back home, not something you eat. My host-family explained to me that cuy is not eaten on a regular basis, only for special occasions. In this case, we prepared this meal for my companions, who were staying over the weekend.

A cuy is a South American guinea pig.  This endearingly cute and tiny animal is highly regarded among Ecuador’s indigenous culture and is utilized in several ways, but primarily as a food source.  Here, cuy serves as a good source of low-on-the-food-chain animal protein for people living in the hilly regions of Ecuador. It is also used in spiritual practices and healing ceremonies, performed on the patient by a healer. My host family keeps a cuy farm in our backyard, where we raise about 30 of these furry rodents to sell and to eat.

The preparation of the cuy was interesting, but gruesome. For this meal, my host-dad and I fetched two cuyes to prepare. Then, quickly, my host-dad slit their throats, dispatching their living essence in a method done for centuries here. The cycle of life is so apparent here, not like the far-removed cooking experience I have back in the States. How often have I carelessly wasted food that had been killed elsewhere and required labor and energy to prepare? This reflection carried me through the rest of the meal preparation. (I’ve refrained from sharing my first video, because it is just that gruesome.)

After killing the cuy by cleanly slicing it’s neck, my host-mom placed the cuy in boiling water to make it easier to pull off the fur. Whatever fur was left, my host-dad burned it off at the gas ring stove.

With all the fur gone, the cuyes were gutted, washed, and put into the stove. Normally, a cuy is grilled outside, but as we’ve had two weeks of pouring rain, we had to use the stove.

Once the cuyes were roasted to a crisp, they were cut into pieces for everyone to eat. The meal was accompanied with tomatoes, potatoes, onions, and fried bananas. All these ingredients prepared for one meal. What a feast! The cuy had a crunchy, tough texture, and had a greasy chicken-like flavor. The cuy is best eaten with the hands as the meaty portions are easier to get at, so forks and knives are practically useless.

The cuy as a meal predates the Inca Period. My GCY friends and I had experienced a special cuisine of the Andes, a dish served by indigenous peoples from Ecuador to Peru to Bolivia. To be treated to a cuy meal is considered quite an honor in this culture. If you are invited to a wedding or christening here, you are surely to be served cuy. It was an interesting cultural experience to have helped in preparing and eating it with my friends and host-family. I now know that I will never see guinea pigs in the same way again. I wonder, did Americans, back when, have a similar experience before the advent of supermarkets and refrigerators, as I do now? The cycle of life is indeed so close here.

My host-mom and dad asked us if we liked the meal. Our only response that would mean anything was that we enjoyed the honor to have a meal with them in their home.

I ended up in the Plaza de los Ponchos, looking at booths with woven goods. They all were beautifully made, each one with unique patterns and designs. This sparked my curiosity in finding out where these came from. I saw two vendors sitting by their booth, so I asked them this question. They told me that all handicrafts are made locally from different towns. One town they mentioned was Peguche, where woven goods and Andean instruments are made. They told me it was close by, so I asked them how I can get there. I was told to follow the abandoned railroad tracks on the south east end of town.

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I followed their directions and found the tracks. They led me through what must´ve been an hour and fifteen minutes of walking through urban neighborhoods, a rural countryside, and eventually, a cobble stone road. I reached the town and stopped by a nearby hostel for a map and directions. I was given a poorly drawn map, which quickly got me lost for awhile.

But I found the location later when I spotted and followed the church in the main plaza. There, I found two stores where they make woven goods. The first place I went to was José Cotacachi. There were many different types of goods, like rugs, table cloths, sweaters, and bags. I also saw the machinery used to make these things.

The next store I went to was El Gran Condor, where they had more variety of goods and saw demonstrations of fabrics being made from several different types of machinery.

My general observation from these two stores was that everything here is much more expensive than those items in the markets. I could get most of these at half their price in the Otavalo market.

I went to one more store a couple of blocks down the street. It’s called Ñanda Mañachi. They are known for making Andean instruments. It was an interesting shop – they had rows of different types of bamboo wind instruments, maracas, rain sticks, ocarinas, and charangos (small Andean 12 string guitar, body is made from an armadillo shell). The lady that worked there gave a couple of demonstrations of the wind instruments. The music was enjoyable to listen to – the Andean melody had a haunting, yet appealing sound to it. I thanked her afterwards, and then left, trying to find the bus terminal that would take me back home.

With that annoying map, I ended up getting lost and somehow on the Pan American highway. Luckily, there were several buses heading to Otavalo so I ran after one and caught it, then arrived at the terminal, and made a transfer back home. Overall, it was a good, but tiring day. It fascinated me to see how these artisan crafts were made because often times, we don`t ever see how the products we buy in the U.S. are made. It also made me feel good that the souvenirs I bought in the market supported the local economy. Just seeing the origins and history of these products added much more significance to my purchases too. And of course, I was also glad that I got home so I could shower, sleep and let my sore muscles rest.

The community is poor and doesn’t have many resources, so I’ve been learning to make adjustments to a simpler lifestyle. This involves: hand washing clothes in the outdoors on a stone sink, having some days with no functioning shower, sink, and toilet, and eating less food than I’m used to. This experience is something I’m starting to adjust to and am enjoying it because I am gaining a whole new perspective on life. Living here has made me thankful and appreciative of the opportunities and things I have back home. It makes me remember how often I took them for granted, and didn’t appreciate their true value and how hard others worked to make them available to me.

Overall, this transition has been smooth, thanks to my warm and affectionate host family. Even though they are busy people, they take time to chat with me and help me practice Spanish. After dinner, my host mom sets a pot of tea for the family and we’ll sit and chat about our day and how things are going at our jobs. The care and concern they have for each other, and all the happy and funny moments they have together seem like all happy families around the world. In that, they are indeed rich, and I am grateful and reflective that they are willing to share this treasure with me. Oh, and guinea pigs, too. But, I’ll tell you more about that in my next entry.