yachay wasi

hm, where do i begin? we are working a typical work-week. but there is something more here. we are gaining perspective on life that will alter us -- forever! monday - friday at yachay wasi, enrolled in some spanish courses and the weekends are set aside to explore.
i noticed, though, at la mitad del mundo (the middle of the earth), that my passion here is yachay wasi, the culture that is housed in the outskirts of quito in a small school that borders dirty streets filled with underfed dogs, children hanging on rusty jungle-gyms, stores that sell everything and nothing and people that stare at you from the back of pick-ups until they have crested a hill -- they are still looking our way long after they are out of sight, wondering what brings us to their neck-of-the-woods. the first few days i was getting back into the language. when the children said something to me i would often ask them a few times to repeat themselves -- they did, with eager eyes and hands that found their way without my noticing into my large, pale, gringo hands. after a few days i didnt ask them to repeat what they said. it began to understand and, after thinking about it today, i realize that i am understanding more than their spanish, i am understanding their way of life, their culture, their heritage. they call me friend in their tongue, quechua, and i feel honored. we are working on a mural that will cover a large wall within the courtyard of the school. it will attempt to tie brunswick maine and quito ecuador together. when i begin to think about brunswick i feel so far removed. granted i have been traveling since june 1st... but there is something lacking and that very void is filled with their culture, their passion for life, their understanding of the universe. we eat communally. i help serve the food (rich soup made of quinoa and vegetables they grow at the school). i feel nourishment that i havent felt in ages - a connection to something greater than myself yet, at the same time, a link to myself. they call my friend in their tongue, quechua, and i feel honored.

PS matt, no pisco just cheap beer. tonight however we will have cuba libres ... i have some more zwack that will share upon your return from the wild east -- we have much to discuss amigo mio.
molly, hows the apartment situation? still saving a room for my dirty, poor but highly nourished (mentally, physically, spiritually) ass? :)