This is UEES campus... well part of it anyway
First off there is Universidad Espiritu Santo or UEES, this is where I take my Spanish classes. This is also where most of the international students that I have become friends with go to school. It is the most expensive school in
Another picture of UEES- the plaza
primary or secondary school. In recent years the new President has given out ‘stipends’ so that everyone can go to school. But many families cannot afford the uniforms or the school supplies, and some families still keep their kids at home. Many children can be seen in the streets try to sale things or begging for money or food. It breaks my heart of course.
UEES is the ‘rich’ kid’s school in
My (Ecuadorian) family lives in La Garzota and their house is a mansion compared to the homes around the clinic where I work. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday there is a maid who comes in to clean the entire house and to do the laundry. This was an adjustment for me; I am used to doing things for myself. It breaks my heart to see her work so hard and to be treated like a second class citizen. I know there are countries where the cast system is intact and
This is a very nice home in the nicest area of Guayaquil.
The very kind maid, Melba, sits at a tiny table in the corner of the kitchen and eats her meals out of Tupperware dishes while everyone else sits at the marble table and eats off of fine dishes. I am usually served too much food for lunch and one day I was served Jell-O for desert I really wasn’t hungry but my host mom insisted I try it. I tried to eat a little bit of it but mostly I just stirred it up. I tried to put my plate in the sink and wash away the Jell-O, but my host mom stopped me and then took my dish to Melba so she could have my leftover Jell-O. I felt terrible that she was eating my leftovers, if I’d have know that I wouldn’t have eaten any of my Jell-O but I’d have given it to her strait out, but that’s not the way things work in this country.
One day I asked my host brother if Melba was in the house because I kept hearing noises in the backyard. He responded with “Who? Who’s Melba?” When I explained who I was talking about he responded that he never bothers to learn the names of the maids. This really bothered me not only is she treated poorly but Danny doesn’t even know the name of the woman who washes his socks. I have made an effort to talk to Melba, but since my Spanish isn’t all that great and she is very shy it’s been difficult.
This is the street where I lived in Guayaquil.
Adjusting to the different classes and the different lifestyles of the people here in
This is the outside of my home in Guayaquil. I had to have a ton of keys to get through all of those doors and gates.