Why was I so lucky?

To be born into the situation I was that is. During the past two days while I visited friends in Ambato that question resurfaced time and time again. I don’t think I’ll ever find a suitable answer but hopefully I can use my life to address some of the reasons that make this query haunt me.

OK, onto Ambato. First off, this is the story of a promise coming full circle. The friends I happened to be visiting are the same family I met in the Quito airport over a month back. I have a blog detailing that encounter posted earlier.

Jhinson was the man who had initially struck up a conversion while we both waited for delayed flights. Said conversation led to my introduction to some 30 members of his family, all who were waiting for a relative to arrive after a year working abroad in South Africa. When my family finally arrived we said goodbye and I walked off, only to turn around, for reasons I’m not quite sure of, and go back to exchange cell numbers, just in case. Jhinson and I had been in semi-frequent contact since then and at one point he invited me to come visit him in Ambato. This weekend is a 4-dayer due to Carnival and worked well for both of us. Ambato happens to be the main city celebrating for this occasion, with their countrywide-renowned festival of fruits and flowers and many traditional festivities.

Jhinson met me at the bus station in a friend’s car (he doesn’t have his own) and we first went to his little car repair shop/home where I met the rest of his immediate family.





(Jhinson, his wife Cecilia, Christina, and “baby” in front of Jhinson's shop/home.)


From here we paid a quick visit to a brother (Jhinson has 7 siblings all who live in and around Ambato) before busing out to his mother’s little farm in the countryside. I couldn’t see much as we arrived in darkness and after socializing with his mother and a delicious late dinner of Churrascos (one of my favorite local dishes – rice, thin steak (we had slices of cheese), French-fries, avocado, and topped with a fried egg or two) we spent some time chatting before bed. When I busted out my “Y” tool to floss they all couldn’t stop staring at me! They had never seen dental floss, let alone a special flossing tool. After that I was asked to go through and explain the use of every item in my toiletries kit:) I slept like a rock that night until the chickens, chicks, and roosters all went crazy at about 6am.





(A view of the countryside from Jhinson's mom's farm.)


Wandering around in the early morning sunshine, exploring the farm, was just great. I love that time of day, so peaceful, sun not yet powerful enough to burn my fragile gringo skin☺ The area where Jhinson’s mom lives is beautiful and it seems almost every plant and tree has something edible! Jhinson took me on a little tour of the area and to meet some neighbors who also happened to be family. I was given a cup of warm milk straight from one of their cows, a first for me.





(A relative of Jhinson’s procuring milk for me, and yes, it was delicious.)


Jhinson’s mom then made an amazing breakfast of “llapingachos” (sp), a local favorite. She is 75-years-old but seems 30 years younger and lives all alone on her farm. I personally watched her scale a ladder into a pear tree and shake it to knock down pears – an act which I would have had a few hesitations about doing!





(Jhinson’s mom smashing potatos to make llapingachos.)





(Her climbing around like a squirrel.)






(Me, very excited about the breakfast.)


The rest of the day was spent at Jhinson’s sister’s house with a bunch of his other siblings and their families as well. We ate, played Ecua-volley (volleyball EC style with a higher net, bigger/heavier ball, and no penalty for virtually catching the ball before passing it on), and I also went adventuring with two of Jhinson's nephews. One was the same boy who had sung to me back in the airport! Unfortunately I do not have any pictures from their house, I was too busy! One dicey moment was me having to politely get across that I was not interested in watching them stage a cockfight just for me. I was informed the chicken in the soup for lunch was a “loser” from a few days back.

That evening we returned via bus to spend the night at Jhinson’s place. His shop/house is the size of a normal garage which means as his shop takes up half and thus he, his wife, and two kids live in a space about 12 feet by 12 feet.





(A view of the frontal shop part. If you look close on zoom mode you can see how far back it is to the far wall to get an idea of their living space.)





(His daughters were oh so cute. Christina 1 year 9 months and “baby” 4 months.)






(The bathroom, which smelled like urine and feces. I took a shower here just as they do, filling the red bucket with stove-heated water before pouring it over oneself and then soaping. The part that made it tough was there is no light in the bathroom and I kept dropping the soap. In the end cleanliness prevailed.)


Jhinson makes about $100-150 a week and between rent, food, refrigerator payments (virtually empty as they don’t the money to stock it), a lack of work due to carnival, and financing my visit they straight up ran out of money. As in not a dollar to their name. To me this was shocking. I’m not sure exactly why. I’ve seen plenty of people here in Ecuador that must assuredly be living hand to mouth but somehow the visceral nature of it all got to me. He was my friend, I knew almost his whole family, and now he had to wait several more days for work, with not even enough money for a 25-cent bus ride. I “loaned” him $30, which I could tell wasn’t easy on his pride, but the thought of trying to subsist on what little food they had left for 2 more days, to have his daughters cry because they were hungry, won him over. I think I was more upset by the whole situation than he was, which sadly signals to me that such an event is all too common for them.

Jhinson and his family weren’t in danger of starving to death, not with family in the area, but I got the sense Jhinson doesn’t like asking for handouts from his family even though the rest of his siblings are better off (nicer homes and they all have one car – every member of my family has a car…). When one is stuck in poverty like Jhinson it is so hard to break loose. Money breeds money and he just doesn’t have any.

That night I was given the only bed while the family slept on cardboard and a blanket laid over the concrete shop floor. I sensed my refusal of this would not have been prudent. It was the best gift they felt they could give me and to turn it down would not have gone over well. Car noise, drunks, and dog fights made for fitful sleep, I imagine they were hardly able to sleep at all.

The next morning was the day of the big parade!




(Christina all dressed up and ready to go. She absolutely loved having her picture taken.)





(A view down the street from a bridge vantage point, the city was packed and it was hard to find a viewing spot! Being a good half foot to two feet taller than everyone came in handy here. Ambato is known for its fruits and flowers and many of the floats, were covered in flowers.)


After the parade we visited with several more brothers and their families. By this point everyone had become convinced I was already a doctor (despite my constant negations of this allegation) after I “cured” Jhinson’s headache with an Ibuprofen. I was increasingly barraged with health related questions as well as general questions concerning what life is like in the US. They were also fascinated by my camera and how detailed its pictures were. After almost every photo all the family would crowd around me to see the little viewing screen. Throughout the visit Jhinson delighted in telling his family members about things I had done or said.

Jhinson: “Michael says in his home right now it is snowing.” Looks at me, “Right?”
Me: “Yes, I did say that.”
Jhinson: “Michael cured my headache.”
Me: “Umm, sort of. It was the pill really.”
Jhinson’s brother: “You know, I always have bad headaches, can you help me too?”

And on and on:)





(Me with a group of Jhinson’s extended family.)


I was taken to a local panaderia (bread shop) famous throughout the area for its traditional huge brick oven cooking method. The little breads were delicious indeed and I was informed that even President Correa has eaten at this location. I bought a bunch to bring back and share with my family in Quito. Twenty little rolls for 2 bucks!





(The oven itself is huge; several people could easily crawl inside and be quite comfortable, if not a little warm☺)


After this it was time to catch a bus home to Quito. I came away from the whole experience amazed and grateful for the kindness and openness with which I had been welcomed into their lives. As Jhinson succinctly put it “we may be poor but we have big hearts.” I couldn’t agree more.