Andes Field School, Ecuador

      This past summer I had the opportunity to live, study, and conduct research in Ecuador.  I attended a field school in Iyarina, Napo, Ecuador, a small, outdoor school conducted in the middle of a village of cacao and yuca (cassava), on the banks of the Napo River, a tributary of the Amazon river, surrounded by rain forest with a group of BYU and University of Pittsburgh students and professors.  I learned about the ecology of the rain forest firsthand and conducted research on the leaf cutter ants that inhabit the region. 

  I loved it.  The field school's location allowed us to visit primary and secondary forest and farms in the same day, while access to internet was a bus ride away.    Further bus trips allowed my classmates and I took many trips to different cities, visiting basilicas, street markets, and cacao plantations.   We tried to live like Ecuadorians as much as possible, eating street food, staying at a finca (a small family farm) or hostels, riding the public buses everywhere, and trying to communicate in Spanish (of which I only had the most basic grasp).  Many things I took for granted in the U.S. were not available: free public restrooms, public drinking fountains, clean water from the faucets, WiFi, personal cars, personal space, and pleasant smells.  This study abroad gave me the chance to experience two months of being completely unplugged from my phone, unable to communicate with my family in the states oftener than checking my e-mail once a week.  I also couldn’t use a credit card or even cash larger than a twenty dollar bill (change is used for a majority of your transactions, a five dollar bill if absolutely necessary).  In stripping away all the non-essentials of life, I learned what was really necessary and began to notice and appreciate all the little comforts that were available to me.  Sunrises, a mattress no matter how thin, and good friends who did speak English became highlights of my day.  It was an unforgettable experience that I truly enjoyed. 

I especially enjoyed the opportunity to see animals and places I've never before encountered, like the creature above, a kind of worm that appears to have feet like a centipede.  And pictured below, the city of Guayaquil was larger than any I've visited in the states.  Visiting it, being among so many people so densely packed, changed how I view population-environment interactions.

The food of Ecuador also provided chances to try new things and get out of my comfort zone while experiencing old favorites that tasted even better when sampled fresh, like the pineapple pictured below.

What was truly life-changing about this trip, though, was getting to know the people of Ecuador personally.  I learned that their culture is very different.  I was never asked what I was studying or what career I planned on having.  Instead they wanted to know about my family, if I had a boyfriend, who my traveling companions were.  I soon realized that when you have nothing, that the people you love become everything.  I began to see why they did not value money, personal belongings, and big houses.  They don’t have any!  I began to appreciate why they always walked with linked arms and I saw more public displays of affection that I have ever seen in the U.S.  I returned to the U.S., disappointed at how we distance ourselves from each other, demanding personal space and privacy, and then complain of being lonely.  Another thing that most surprised me was how generous and welcoming they were, excited to share what they did have.  A little girl at the field school continually taught me and corrected my Spanish, teasing when I jokingly called a butter knife a machete for lack of the correct word.  Other children would dance with me, begging to be pushed on the swings, teaching me their hand clapping games and showing me their kittens and dolls.  When playing soccer with the kids my age, they would encourage me to go after the ball, calling out my name, even though I couldn’t talk to them and could barely kick in a straight line. The adults were generous too.  Once a farmer piled my arms full of cacao, lemons, limes, and mandarins, excited to share his produce with me even though I had nothing to give in return.  A woman, nursing her baby while tending her home-made stand, offered me a free taste of her coconut candy when I merely stopped to look.  Though they had so little, their loving generosity showed me that kindness and friendliness make you truly happy.  I returned from Ecuador more appreciative of all the luxuries we have in the United States but realizing that it is family, friends, and generosity that truly make one happy.