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#6: Shuk puncha tuparishun, Quito

Shuk puncha tuparishun, Quito — we will meet again someday, Quito

When I tell people that I studied Kichwa in Ecuador, they often ask me “Why Kichwa?” or “Why Ecuador?”. I do not have any roots in Ecuador or South America, and my primary research interests were not related to Ecuador before the SLA program. I even knew nothing about Ecuador and Kichwa before coming to Notre Dame. I decided to go to Ecuador to study Kichwa because I was motivated by people I have met (almost coincidentally).

I first got to know about the Kichwa language when I emailed the Quechua FLTA of last year, Jefferson Saransig, in October 2022 to ask about the Quechua class taught at Notre Dame. He told me that He was from Ecuador and was teaching Kichwa. Kichwa is the Ecuadorian variety of the Quechuan languages and is spoken by 150,000 to 500,000 people (uncertain statistics due to lack of reliable census). It is common for younger generations to speak Spanish but not Kichwa (also known as language shift in sociolinguistics) due to the social stigma against expressing indigenousness in Ecuador, and Jefferson was concerned about the future of his own language. Since my project in my department (Natural Language Processing Group) was documenting endangered languages with computational technologies, I decided to take the Quechua course in the following semester to see if my research can actually contribute to the Kichwa language.

During the spring semester of 2023, Jefferson shared with us information about the opportunity to study abroad in Ecuador (Summer Language Abroad program!). By that time, I was mesmerized by the linguistic beauty of Kichwa, and I wanted to visit Ecuador to boost my Kichwa proficiency. From then on, everything went really quickly — Jefferson and I visited Alessia to talk about the opportunity, then I applied, and I got an offer; soon after, I booked the flight ticket and applied to the local Kichwa language school and a homestay program. Right after the final exams, I was already in Quito.

That’s how I started working on Kichwa.

At the time of my arrival in Quito, I barely knew anything about Ecuadorian culture. All I knew was mostly things discussed in my Kichwa classes — but since I have already written about my serious introspections about the culture in the previous posts, in this post I would like to introduce to you my favorite things in Ecuador.

ECUADORIAN FOOD!!

Food is probably the most unforgettable thing I had in Ecuador. The dish in the picture above is called fritada, sautéed pork with various side dishes — tortilla de papa (yellow stuff on top), choclo (corn on top right), queso (cheese on top right), tostada (toasted corn), grilled plantain (bottom), mote (boiled corn in the middle), avocado (left), salad (mid-left). This dish is a beautiful concentration of Ecuadorian local ingredients which would be very hard to get in the United States and Japan (my home country). The taste and texture were something I had never experienced before, and I was totally fascinated after the first bite.

Fresh fruit juice is also something that shocked me. Fruits in Japan are very expensive and I never really thought of buying them when I lived in Japan. In Ecuador, however, they are much more affordable to the locals, and what’s more, they are irresistibly fresh and sweet. The juice in the photo above is jugo de guanábana, a kind of tropical fruit called soursop in English. It was the first time for me to taste the fruit, and it tasted so good that I ordered them in every restaurant I visited where possible.

Andean Nature

Ecuadorian nature was different from the ones that I had been familiar with in any aspect. Ecuador is located on the Equator line, but Quito’s altitude is nearly 3,000m. For this reason, plants, landscapes, temperatures, rainfall, and air quality were all very unique. The photo above is from my host mother’s village, which is a community consisting of only 50 indigenous Kichwas. I had a chance to visit her village on weekends, and I was totally flabbergasted by the amazing landscape there. The overwhelmingly mountainous terrain was surrounding us; the layer of clouds was beneath us; weather could change in ten minutes; the morning was freezing (remember we were at the Equatorial area).

People

As I said, my whole journey to learn Kichwa has been shaped thanks to the people I have met — my host family is definitely one of the biggest influences on me. The photo above is a picture of me and my host family in their traditional Otavalo Kichwa outfit. They were a bilingual family that spoke Kichwa and Spanish at home and talked with me in both languages. They were not only my host family but also my teachers in Kichwa and Spanish, my family, and my friends. I appreciate their kindness and generosity to share their time and space with me.

For the future

My SLA program is over, but the memory about and the attachment to Ecuador and the Kichwas will continue to be rooted inside of me. Before going to Ecuador, I was taking the SLA program as an opportunity to enhance my language skills; however, it was in fact way more than that. Interacting with people there, directly experiencing their culture, and understanding the culture were the biggest factors that shaped the current “me” after the program. I deeply thank the SLA programs, in particular, the supporters, organizers (Mary!), my Kichwa teachers, my host family, and many others for giving me this incredible opportunity. I will continue studying the language and will try to contribute back to the community with my research expertise as much as possible.

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Embarrassing Moment in a Georgian Gym

It was a perfectly sunny day. The birds trilled amidst a steady summer breeze as tall proud conifers jutted back against the Lesser Caucuses mountainside surrounding the Harbor of Batumi, with its portent arms and cranes outstretched towards the sea and the wider world. The subtropical rains had abated for the last few days and it was to be a nearly half a fortnight of sunny days and brilliant starry nights on the black sea. In downtown Batumi, I was strutting out of Russian class with great confidence as I was now home free. As per my usual routine I decided to the gym in the great mall next to our quaint school. At the mall I was accompanied by several classmates, and I decided to join them to visit the supermarket on the first floor of the mall before going to the gym on the fourth floor. I came to the gym after shopping and laden with grocery bags I struggled into the locker room. However at approximately 5:30 PM on July 7 disaster struck….

For some reason or another, my groceries slipped out of my hand as I entered the locker room to store them. On doing so, a calamitous cacophony of shattering glass reverberated so loud they could be heard amidst the watery halls of Atlantis much to my chagrin. I had dropped not only all my fresh produce but two bottles of beer I had been recommended by my host brother. The locker room floor was a proper mess and I was left awestruck at such a hideous slip of deportment and self composure. The worst part was the reactions of the other grizzled Georgian men, watching the hapless American bring beer into the gym and then proceed to shatter the bottles and their contents all over the locker room floor. It did not help that the gym owner was in the locker room…. I later called to the janitor to clean it up, and he was not happy at what he thought must be my petty hooliganism.

I continued my workout with an intense anger that in all seriousness was foremost at myself and secondly at the other Georgians for making fun of me in the locker room, I was utterly humiliated by their laughs. While I had a great workout, I sincerely regret those feelings. In the moment, I was angered at their laughs. From my own cultural expectations, I would have expected for somebody to come help me and ask me if I was ok (I also took a tumble, not helping my cause to any onlooker). Upon using the D.I.V.E. exercise, I can now recall the events with a more clairvoyant and preferable perspective. While I was in the moment I was wracked by embarrassment and later anger. Upon more objective analysis I find that I should have been more helpful to the gym owner and less concerned with my social standing amidst the Georgian locker room of the mall gym. The situation could be described objectively as a funny mishap that I was not aware of in the moment and I did could not communicate with anybody as they did not speak any English or Russian. I have since consulted the gym owner and made amends, and he said I was “off the hook”. For future incidents, I realized that I should be less self conscious about what people from other cultures think when said conscientiousness leads to negative thoughts. I did find D.I.V.E. useful, but such cultural mishaps rarely happen so I will hopefully not need to revisit such a blemish on an otherwise spotless time abroad. I will also remember to always buy my groceries after the gym!

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Exploring stereotypes in the Republic of Georgia

The Republic of Georgia does not host the teeming throngs of American tourists that crowd the cities of Western Europe every Summer. Few Americans visit Georgia, and it is much more frequented by Russians, Turks and other tourists coming from regional caucasian countries and the Middle East. Moreover, few Georgians have ever been to America, and even less emigrate to America. However, many of our ubiquitous products and brands reach across the ocean and sea and find themselves in many family homes. Georgia has little direct interaction with America in general save for trade, and even less with American college students. Georgia has been pursuing greater ties with the west and in many street corners the EU flag is flown beside the Georgian flag. This orientation towards the west is reflected by the hopes among the countries progressive and young voters to pursue greater ties with Europe and join the EU, and many young people are more curious about America and American culture.

The two stereotypes I have encountered is that Americans are loaded with money and care little about worldly affairs outside of the confines of the US border. From the people I’ve met their experiences are based mainly on the internet. I do know many students who fill these criteria. Spending lavishly in a country without any genuine interest in it (ie learning the language or culture, or even interacting with locals beyond the waiter and vendor) beyond a passionate and fleeting euphoric feeling of tourism seems a staple of many people’s impressions of American tourists and study abroad students, and I would also hold this as an autostereotype.

However, the heterostereotypes among the youth are much more positive, who emphasize the social and pecuniary prosperity they have heard about Americans from the internet and pop culture. Overall, Georgians are the most hospitable people I have ever met. From who I have spoken to in my home, on the streets, the beach, and at local bars, all take great interest when I tell them of my studies and my choice of country being Georgia. Once I tell somebody I am American they often ask my why I chose such a place instead of just studying in America, who many see as much more prosperous (on economic terms). They often also assume that I only speak english, which is a valid question since Georgian is such a rare language and few Americans speak any Russian. I have met very inquisitive people, who both take pride in their stories customs and nation, and are eager to get closer to the West politically and in simple social knowledge.

The plight of Georgia’s slow economic woes is juxtapposed in to Americas dominance of the world market and the supremacy of the USD in the minds of many Georgians, and it is understandable why they see America as so prosperous and absurdly rich by comparison. From who I have spoken to, we do share many correlating values of curiosity of the other’s culture and interest to seek out more knowledge on the other country through academic and social interests. While GDP and job opportunities may be lacking, Georgia is richer in the soul of a unified national identity, family ties, hospitality, and eagerness for integration in the world than perhaps the US ever will be. Reflecting on their perspective of American college students makes me feel much more humbled. In the provinces and on the streets with crowds of children playing and old men playing backgammon, I find content people who are interested in engaging in conversation. I have seen that though we are from thousands of miles away we can still bond over a game, a drink, or a simple conversation, where stereotypes certainly exist, but become washed away by the merriment of a mutual fraternization and curiosity. Before arrival, I knew little about Georgia and did not know much about their culture, but the fact that they know so much about America tells me that I should be more aware of my place in the world and work harder to be more lucid of what I should learn while eating bread from the table of a proud people.

However in my past three weeks I have met a country

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Our Little Sombreros

I want to be clear that I feel as what I am about to describe is an act of racism and cannot be only brushed up to a non-judgmental stance on culture. However, I also think, as we have spoken about in the past, it is important to also process the way culture has something to do with the incident.

I am in a German class where there are other students from several other countries. One, who we will call Daniel for now, is from Spain. I am Mexican-American and have always described myself as such to the class. One day, while eating lunch, one of the British students began asking me about the “identity politics” of the US and my thoughts. Amongst other things, I told him that I felt identity was an important motivator for many important social movements in the US. I then described the Chicano Movement, a 1960s movement for the rights of Mexican farmworkers. Daniel did not appear to be listening, but he turned around and said, imitating a Mexican accent in Spanish and said “I can imagine you all saying ‘We want our rights.’ in your little sombreros.” I replied back that if they were wearing sombreros, it was to protect them from the sun from picking grapes all day to be shipped throughout the US and Europe.

Later in the conversation, the issue of the British Museum came up. The British student spoke to his opinion that the British Museum should simply give back the objects which belonged to African peoples. For him, he did not think it was too complicated of an issue. Daniel piped in once again saying that “Mexicans” and signaled to me take the issue of colonization “too seriously.” He claimed that our current president was “belligerently asking for objects back which were gifted to Spain.” I granted him that colonization was more complicated than simply a Spanish conquest and that there were many things wrong with any single story of history. However, the idea that colonization is taken too seriously felt off to me.

Culture can be thought of as a camera lens in that it determines how we look at the world. As I spoke about this incident with another Spanish woman in our class, she explained to me that Spanish culture, especially for the wealthiest people in society, of which Daniel is a part of, the idea that Spain somehow did something to gain riches is hard to understand. Spain is currently one of the countries in the EU that has the lowest GDP. Therefore, there is a sense that colonization could not have been that bad since look how poorly Spain is doing.

Through my own camera lens, having spent considerable time throughout Latin America, colonization seems complicated only in the sense that the single narrative telling of the story ignores resistance movements from indigenous people. It was not simply a Spanish conquistador with 50 men who destroyed the Aztec Empire. There were resistances and there were other people on the American continent who aided Europeans in taking down these great empires.

For each of us, the epistemological (or way of knowing things) is considerably different. For him, he lives in a post-modern Spain that does not continue to enjoy the lasting effects of its once great colonial Empire. For me, I live in a post-modern Latin American culture which understands itself as continent which is depleted of resources because of colonization.