After spending a week settling into Cuenca and my life in Ecuador, I was beyond excited to reconnect with my host family from my time in Global Citizen Year. I have been practicing my Spanish, taking Spanish classes at Notre Dame, watching shows like La Casa de Papel, and even trying to play through Skyrim in Spanish (I did not make it far). This practice would enable a deeper connection with my parents and siblings than I had previously, and not only that, but I would have a chance to meet the new baby of the family!
I finally arrived in Paute this past Saturday night, happy to visit my old home and see the old haunts of Paute. My family was playing in a soccer tournament, and we planned to get dinner together and watch the soccer game that night. After saying hi, hugging, and catching up, we picked up food and returned home to eat. The animated conversation lasted all of 20 minutes, and after that, an awkward silence spread over the table.
Immediately, I felt uncomfortable. I had been away three years, and we didn’t have anything to talk about? While I’m not fluent in Spanish, my skills are proficient to the level that they do not hinder daily conversations. As we sat and ate, I wrestled with this uneasy feeling, trying to dissect where it was coming from, and what could be done about it. My night in Paute was a whirlwind of old memories and emotions, when I remembered the term that my friends and I would refer to the way that the passage of time seemed to dilate during our gap year: “Ecua-time”.
Ecua-time means that things seem to move more slowly here, and rather than constantly preparing for the future, people allow the passage of time to wash over them and react how they may – not forcing anything that was unnecessary. During my dinner with my host family, I felt compelled to force conversation as I struggled to come up with new questions to learn more about the lives of my host family during the years of Covid and beyond. On the contrary, my family accepted the dinner for what it was – quality time with someone they had missed. Conversation arose when it was appropriate, but in the time between words, bites of chicken and the company of the dinner were more than adequate.
As I am re-integrating myself into Ecuador for the summer, these cultural hiccups that feel uncomfortable have begun to arise. While I have a leg up because of my previous experience here, it would be naive to think that this experience will protect me from culture shock. As I continue to navigate a different yet familiar culture, I need to remember Ecua-Time, take a deep breath and process things as the arise, and know that my best is more than enough to thrive here.