So I'm beginning to think that there is no such thing as a "normal" cure for any type of sickness here in Ecuador. Be it a nasty cough, an upset stomach, a bad cold or any other ailment that has you feeling puny, you better believe that the Ecuadorians have some special home remedy up their sleeves. This weekend was no exception.
On Saturday, I awoke feeling exceptionally close to the equator, i.e.: I had a temperature of 102 and a sore throat to go with it. Seeing as how I already put my host mom through enough worry (and pots of burning leaves) with my cough, I wasn't planning on telling her about the fever. I reasoned that since it was Saturday, I could easily just stay in my room and rest without raising too much suspicion. This actually worked wonderfully for all of Saturday and most of Sunday. However, come Sunday evening when my temp still hadn't gone down, I knew that I needed to speak up.
I guess it's inately in moms to know when their kids are sick, even if the kid is a temporarily adopted gringa. Also, I hadn't left my room for two whole days, not even to eat. Before I even told Monica I wasn't feeling so great, she had come into my room with a worried expression and a head full of ideas on how to treat me. I explained to her that I was "con fiebre" and she immediately varified this by feeling my forehead and replying with, "Sí, sí pobrecita." Having been through the gamut of cures with my cough, I started preparing myself for the worst. I had already started thinking of how to say, "Please, no more burning leaves," when Monica surprised me by giving me a pill. Shock prevented me from doing anything but sit on my bed and stare, until finally Monica put the pill in my hand and told me it should help lower my fever. I looked at the tiny red capsule with skepticism, half expecting it to sprout wings or do something equally radical right there in the palm of my hand. After a few more moments of staring, I decided that maybe the days of crazy medicine were behind me and happily took the pill.
Unfortunately, it did not make my fever go down. I think I was the only one truly upset by this. Monica, being the ever-vigilent mom, told me not to worry and instructed her other (real) daughter to go gather some lemons from the backyard. Half an hour later, Monica strolled confidently into my room carrying a pot of warm water, a wash cloth and about a liter of pure, freshly squeezed lemon juice. She sat on the edge of my bed and told me to lay my head in her lap. Simple enough, I thought. She then mixed the lemon juice and water together and began to douse my entire body with the liquid. My head, stomach, feet and every other body part inbetween received a cool bath of lemon water. It actually felt good to have something cool on my fever-ridden body. However, I figured that just plain water without the lemon would have felt equally as refreshing. Nevertheless, I didn't say anything to object. After I was completely soaked, she poured the remaining liquid onto the wash cloth and instructed me to lie with it across my forehead. All this took place around 8 in the evening.
Fast forward to 6 the next morning where I found myself a sticky mess, reaking of lemon juice and in desperate need of a shower. However, I was also fever-free. Following Monica's advice, I stayed home from work that day to rest and make sure that my temperature would stay at a normal level. My fever never returned and it seems that I have made a full recovery. The lemon cure actually worked! Either that, or I just had a 72-hour bug that happened to end the same day I received my citrus bath. I'm going to go ahead and give this one to Ecuador, though. She earned it.
So let's see... That makes the score: Modern Medicine - 5,823,977. Ecaudorian Home Remedies - 1.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
¡Vivan las Madres!
To say that Ecuadorians love their mothers would be an understatement. Second only to the Virgin Mary herself, moms are definitely the lifeblood of Ecuador. This was made apparent to me on Sunday when we celebrated Mother’s Day with the only thing that Ecuadorians might love more than their moms: a fiesta.
For my first 3 months living in Macas, I am required to live with a host family. I definitely lucked out in that department because my host family is wonderful, especially my host mom Monica. She treats me like one of her own kids and is constantly referring to me as her “hija adoptiva.” To show my appreciation to her for being such a great surrogate mom, I made pancakes for her on Sunday morning. Even though they looked pretty bad (I have a hard enough time making pancakes in the States much less in Ecuador) they tasted fine and she loved the gesture. Later on that afternoon, the whole family drove out to a river to enjoy a rare day of sunshine. Now I’m used to the American way of celebrating Mother’s Day, which usually consists of a nice brunch, some flowers, and a sappy Hallmark card. Very simple and relaxing. So when we got back from the river, I thought that the day of celebration was over and that we were just going to spend the evening watching telenovelas. This was foolish thinking on my part.
Around 6 PM, our neighbor came over and invited us to have dinner with her family. My family happily accepted and the two moms of the group (Monica and our neighbor) started planning what they were going to cook. An hour later, one of our chickens had been caught, killed, defeathered, and thrown in a large pot of boiling water on our outdoor fire pit. Our neighbor’s entire family had come in to celebrate Mother’s Day so by the time the chicken soup and yucca had finished cooking, there were about 15 of us crowded around a table to enjoy the meal. This is when things started to get interesting.
Our neighbor’s husband had brought over a few bottles of liquor to celebrate the women in his life. After dinner, we brought out the plastic shot glasses and began toasting the moms. After the bottles were emptied, the neighbor’s daughter was sent to buy more liquor and I was sent inside to bring out my guitar and sing songs in English. I fumbled my way through “Tears in Heaven” and “Hotel California” while the whole family clapped and tried to sing along. This went on till about midnight. Again, I foolishly thought the party was coming to an end. After all, it was Sunday and we all had to go to work and school the next day. About the time I was thinking that things were winding down, the neighbor’s daughter showed up with more liquor (this was her 3rd beer run of the night) and the guitar was replaced by the stereo blasting reggaeton. The chairs and table were cleared out of the way and the dance party began.
The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur, but I will say that all the guys at our party relentlessly tried to teach me how to dance everything from merengue to bachata to reggaeton. Around 4 AM and 13 bottles of liquor later, our neighbors decided to head home, only because it had started to rain. Out of the 15 party goers, four were under the age of 14 and therefore didn’t drink. Doing some quick math, we find that roughly each person had more than an entire bottle of liquor to themselves. ¡Viva el día de la madre!
All in all, the fiesta was amazing and I had a great time. Everyone spent the whole night talking, laughing, dancing, and celebrating their moms. The following morning was definitely rough, as was the whole rest of the day. But it was well worth it. Later on that day at work, my host dad asked me if I had enjoyed the party. I told him I loved it and that it was definitely a different way of celebrating Mother’s Day than I was used to. He just laughed and told me to wait until Father’s Day. Yikes.
As a side note, I’ve had leftover Mother’s Day cake as the main course for at least two out of three meals everyday since Sunday. It’s my family’s favorite breakfast food, and the cause of my mid-morning sugar crash. And I thought PopTarts were sweet…
Mrs. B, I talked to Kelly and she told me to tell you that she’s doing great and loving her site. She’s becoming fast friends with the guys who drive the garbage trucks, since she usually catches a ride with them on her way to the different communities. And while my breakfast usually consists of cake, Kelly is choking down pig skin and mote each morning. But other than that, she loves the people in Santa Ana and is becoming a master hangman player with all the kids at the schools where she teaches English. She says to say hello and to send more crossword puzzles!
For my first 3 months living in Macas, I am required to live with a host family. I definitely lucked out in that department because my host family is wonderful, especially my host mom Monica. She treats me like one of her own kids and is constantly referring to me as her “hija adoptiva.” To show my appreciation to her for being such a great surrogate mom, I made pancakes for her on Sunday morning. Even though they looked pretty bad (I have a hard enough time making pancakes in the States much less in Ecuador) they tasted fine and she loved the gesture. Later on that afternoon, the whole family drove out to a river to enjoy a rare day of sunshine. Now I’m used to the American way of celebrating Mother’s Day, which usually consists of a nice brunch, some flowers, and a sappy Hallmark card. Very simple and relaxing. So when we got back from the river, I thought that the day of celebration was over and that we were just going to spend the evening watching telenovelas. This was foolish thinking on my part.
Around 6 PM, our neighbor came over and invited us to have dinner with her family. My family happily accepted and the two moms of the group (Monica and our neighbor) started planning what they were going to cook. An hour later, one of our chickens had been caught, killed, defeathered, and thrown in a large pot of boiling water on our outdoor fire pit. Our neighbor’s entire family had come in to celebrate Mother’s Day so by the time the chicken soup and yucca had finished cooking, there were about 15 of us crowded around a table to enjoy the meal. This is when things started to get interesting.
Our neighbor’s husband had brought over a few bottles of liquor to celebrate the women in his life. After dinner, we brought out the plastic shot glasses and began toasting the moms. After the bottles were emptied, the neighbor’s daughter was sent to buy more liquor and I was sent inside to bring out my guitar and sing songs in English. I fumbled my way through “Tears in Heaven” and “Hotel California” while the whole family clapped and tried to sing along. This went on till about midnight. Again, I foolishly thought the party was coming to an end. After all, it was Sunday and we all had to go to work and school the next day. About the time I was thinking that things were winding down, the neighbor’s daughter showed up with more liquor (this was her 3rd beer run of the night) and the guitar was replaced by the stereo blasting reggaeton. The chairs and table were cleared out of the way and the dance party began.
The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur, but I will say that all the guys at our party relentlessly tried to teach me how to dance everything from merengue to bachata to reggaeton. Around 4 AM and 13 bottles of liquor later, our neighbors decided to head home, only because it had started to rain. Out of the 15 party goers, four were under the age of 14 and therefore didn’t drink. Doing some quick math, we find that roughly each person had more than an entire bottle of liquor to themselves. ¡Viva el día de la madre!
All in all, the fiesta was amazing and I had a great time. Everyone spent the whole night talking, laughing, dancing, and celebrating their moms. The following morning was definitely rough, as was the whole rest of the day. But it was well worth it. Later on that day at work, my host dad asked me if I had enjoyed the party. I told him I loved it and that it was definitely a different way of celebrating Mother’s Day than I was used to. He just laughed and told me to wait until Father’s Day. Yikes.
As a side note, I’ve had leftover Mother’s Day cake as the main course for at least two out of three meals everyday since Sunday. It’s my family’s favorite breakfast food, and the cause of my mid-morning sugar crash. And I thought PopTarts were sweet…
Mrs. B, I talked to Kelly and she told me to tell you that she’s doing great and loving her site. She’s becoming fast friends with the guys who drive the garbage trucks, since she usually catches a ride with them on her way to the different communities. And while my breakfast usually consists of cake, Kelly is choking down pig skin and mote each morning. But other than that, she loves the people in Santa Ana and is becoming a master hangman player with all the kids at the schools where she teaches English. She says to say hello and to send more crossword puzzles!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
How to cure a cough
For the past three weeks, I've been suffering from a rather nasty cough. I think it was brought on by the climate change from cold and rainy Tabacundo to hot and rainy Macas. I've grown immune to cherry-flavored cough drops and now actually just eat them to fill my candy cravings. Musinex, which my Mom wisely sent me in the mail some time ago, has also failed to alleviate the cough. So now, with abs of steal and a very sore throat from relentless hacking and wheezing, I've decided to turn to the wonderful people of Macas for advice. In no particular order, here are some of the tidbits of advice that have been thrown my way:
Mariana, a girl I work with: Told me to buy jengibre (ginger) at the pharmacy. Says it will cure anything from arthritis to an awful cough.
Emma, another girl I work with: Told me to buy Sangre de Dagón, which apparently is some type of tree sap. The first time she pronounced it, though, I thought she said Sangre de Dragón, which is dragon blood. Emma found this quite hilarious, and said that both would most likely cure my cough.
My host mom: Gave me a small container of menthol and told me to rub it all over my body, specifically underneath my armpits. She said it would help me "sweat out the cough."
My host mom again: Boiled milk, three types of flowers, sugar and garlic to produce a nighttime beverage that would help me not only to fall asleep, but to also stop the wheezing and hacking.
My host mom (God bless her for trying): Came into my room right as I was getting ready to go to bed with a huge pot filled with eucalyptus leaves. She then proceeded to light the leaves on fire and blow with great force to assure the maximum amount of smoke possible. As I sat stupefied on my bed, she explained that the aroma from the leaves would be released by burning them and thus cure my cough. After the whole pot was blazing with fire, Mom walked out and closed the door to let the smoke gather in my room. Needless to say, my cough did not go away.
So sadly, I'm still suffering from a ferocious sounding cough. If anyone has any advice, I'm open to trying anything (as can be seen by the above tips I've taken). Just please try to steer clear of dragon blood and burning leaves.
Pics of this and other fun stuff can be seen here. Enjoy!
Mariana, a girl I work with: Told me to buy jengibre (ginger) at the pharmacy. Says it will cure anything from arthritis to an awful cough.
Emma, another girl I work with: Told me to buy Sangre de Dagón, which apparently is some type of tree sap. The first time she pronounced it, though, I thought she said Sangre de Dragón, which is dragon blood. Emma found this quite hilarious, and said that both would most likely cure my cough.
My host mom: Gave me a small container of menthol and told me to rub it all over my body, specifically underneath my armpits. She said it would help me "sweat out the cough."
My host mom again: Boiled milk, three types of flowers, sugar and garlic to produce a nighttime beverage that would help me not only to fall asleep, but to also stop the wheezing and hacking.
My host mom (God bless her for trying): Came into my room right as I was getting ready to go to bed with a huge pot filled with eucalyptus leaves. She then proceeded to light the leaves on fire and blow with great force to assure the maximum amount of smoke possible. As I sat stupefied on my bed, she explained that the aroma from the leaves would be released by burning them and thus cure my cough. After the whole pot was blazing with fire, Mom walked out and closed the door to let the smoke gather in my room. Needless to say, my cough did not go away.
So sadly, I'm still suffering from a ferocious sounding cough. If anyone has any advice, I'm open to trying anything (as can be seen by the above tips I've taken). Just please try to steer clear of dragon blood and burning leaves.
Pics of this and other fun stuff can be seen here. Enjoy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)