First night in Ibarra

I’ll admit that I had more trepidation about meeting my newest host family than I did about meeting my Quito family. This was largely because before I was paired with another volunteer who I knew I could rely on in times of confusion or exasperation. Here in Ibarra, I knew I was going to be totally and utterly on my own.

My anxiety was not helped by the fact that I nearly missed my taxi. Or that my host sister had to be called to verify the address because my taxi driver was clueless as to my destination. I did, however, arrive safely at my host family’s house a little before six on Saturday.

I was met at the door by my host sister, Karen, who coincidentally happens to be my age. We did the Ecua-greeting (hug & air kiss) and then she immediately grabbed two of my bags and ushered me through the front gate and into the house. As we were attempting to navigate my large bags around the car in the garage, my host mom and dad, Fernando and Monica, materialized on the stairs all hugs and smiles and a flood of Spanish goodwill. By the time we had reached my bedroom on the top floor, our party had increased by two to include my older host sister Fernanda and their cousin Veronica.

At first I felt a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people crowded around my bedroom door and the amount of Spanish being spoken all at once. I wanted to be sure that I didn't offend anyone right off the bat. After all, this was going to be my family for the next year.

As soon as my bags were put down, my host mom insisted on a tour of the house. My room was obviously the first stop where she showed me the private porch attached to my bedroom that offers me a gorgeous view of Ibarra and the surrounding mountains. (I have a feeling there will be lots of sunbathing occurring there…). My room is located on the top floor which has a bathroom (all my own!), a game area of sorts with a pool table, and a storage room. Another door leads to the roof which houses the clothesline, laundry machine, and hand washing stone (yes, hand washing your clothes is very common here). The first floor includes a kitchen, dining room, living room with bar, bathroom, two more bedrooms, and a master bedroom. It’s a very beautiful, large house, and I honestly couldn't have asked for more. 

My host mom continually asked me throughout the tour if I liked it even though I kept up a fairly steady stream of praise and admiration. (This is a very Ecua thing to do. If you think you’re being overly-effusive by American standards, you’re probably just barely skimming the surface by Ecua standards.)

Thankfully, my host mom is very perceptive and after the tour allowed me several hours to rest. I, of course, spent all of them frantically unpacking and getting things in order. (Best to just get it over and done with.)

As I was unpacking, I experienced the requisite wave of homesickness I knew was bound to come. There’s just something about that first time in a new room in a new city with a new family that gets to you. But before I could start wallowing in despair, Karen stopped by for a little bit to see how I was getting on and to chat a bit. She’s hoping to go to the states soon to live as an au pair and learn English so we joked about trying to learn each other’s language.

After my “siesta,” Karen and I walked next door to her aunt’s house where my family had gathered with their extended family for their weekly game of Bingo. Karen and I declined their offers for us to play but I enjoyed watching all of the aunts, uncles and cousins go at it in an attempt to win one of the random prizes each family had brought. My host dad won twice and received a clock and a set of religious coasters and my host mom won a basket. Apparently, I’m expected to get in on the action next week.

Around 9 o’clock, Karen, Fernanda, and I headed back to our house since they were going out to see one of their musician friends perform at a club at 10. At this point I was muy, MUY cansada so I told them I’d hang out with them until they left and then hit the hay. To my surprise, we all went to mom and dad’s bedroom to relax and prep for the evening instead of Karen’s or Fernanda’s room. (Another Ecua thing I’ll need to get used to. It’s perfectly normal for everyone to gather on mom and dad’s bed to watch TV and catch up.)

We spent the next hour doing what girls do best, chatting about guys (in Spanish of course) and painting our nails. Fernanda painted mine a brilliant shade of pink. I was quite pleased.  They also all commented on how good my Spanish was (but I think I’m just really good at pretending I know what’s going on).

While speaking Spanish all the time is fantastic practice, it’s can also be quite exhausting. I’m so thankful that Fernanda speaks great English. Sometimes it’s just too much work to figure out how to say, “Where can I hang up my clothes?” when your brain is completely fried from everything else. 

I will need to be careful not to always revert to English around her though. I feel like it’ll be far too tempting at times and I will be seriously upset with myself if my Spanish has not greatly improved by the end of the year.