Then I popped into Lorena’s work on the way to the Mall. In the mall I ate in the food court, hit the ubiquitous internet and bought some stuff at Hipermarket.

      When I got back to Tambo, the whole family was again engaged in planting another batch of banana plant starts in the campo beyond my so-called vegetable garden. Then I got a call from the States. It appears the plane ticket to Ohio I was planning to buy shot up $80 overnight to a new grand total of $750 round trip. Ouch. I don’t know if a trip to any state is worth that, let alone Ohio. Julio drifted into my room when I was off the phone to hear what turned into a bunch of outrageous stories involving the mischief of my youth. Then he and Ivan helped me whittle the words out of my massive vocabulary list that aren’t really used in Ecuador. At 9:30pm, they went to watch some stupid nationally adored nighttime soap opera and I went to bed.

      I left for Tambo and arrived at 3:45pm, just moments prior to the early arrival or Julio’s boss. Ivan, who would be far better to explain computer features in Spanish than me, was on hand. I let him do all the talking while I went outside to play with my plants. Julio’s boss received a call on Julio’s phone in the middle of the computer inspection and had to leave. Boss and son said they would get back to us.

      Before putting the computer away, I broke out a CD of MP3’s which I intended to put on the computer’s hard drive just for kicks and to give it’s purchaser their money’s worth. But I found the CD drawer no longer functioned properly. It had not functioned correctly when I brought it to Ecuador, but that was something I had told the computer guy in Santa Elena to fix. I could never understand the Santa Elena computer guy in his echoey computer shop, so I had always let Ivan do all the talking. I thought the CD problem had been fixed. Ivan had used the computer’s CD drawer since the Santa Elena computer guy had worked on it. It had functioned. Now it caused blue screens and told me there was no CD in the drive. Sometimes it would play music tracks, but only for about 15 uninterrupted seconds before it would tell you that you had no disk inside.

      Then I set to work responding to emails I had brought back with me from Libertad, but Julio came in and side tracked me for a long time. Asleep by 9:15pm.

      After Julio was good and worked over from that earth shaking reinterpretation of the planet he thought existed, I somehow segwayed into solar and wind energy. He all but ran from the room when I finished my lengthy explanation and took a breath.

      I readied a bunch of seeds, that I was tired of having around and that I doubted were even still viable, to be planted tomorrow.

      Then in what may have been her imitation of my imitation of an Ecuadorian male, Lorena leaned back sloppily in her seat and ordered me to clear the table. I wasn’t sure I heard her and asked her to repeat herself, but she backpedaled from whatever joke, critique or possibly insult she had intended to deal and pulled her scattered dishes away from my side of the table. But when Lorena went to wash the dishes in the kitchen sink, I butted in and helped. Lorena mocked my dish washing technique because, being Ecuadorian, she is unable to except ways of doing things that are not her own. As is typical, I then noted that her own beloved way of washing dishes was quite half assed. And there you have exactly what is wrong with this country: hardheadedness and never thinking outside the box. How are you ever going to know when you’re mistaken or if there is room for improvement if you cling to your existing perspective like a religious zealot? At least that’s one thing Americans do right. Americans, by and large, with the slight exceptions of cloning, gay marriages, stem cell research, foreign policy and international law, are extraordinarily open to new ideas.

      When the animals that Lorena nannies came home from school, even though they were actually behaving themselves for once, I left. They were scheduled to leave again shortly after eating and baths, but it was still more exposure to those vermin than I was willing to endure. I grabbed a bus to central Libertad to check my mail. When the first email came up and the date April 29 popped out at me, I remembered that April 29th was the date Andrea Vaughn, Peace Corps regional coordinator for the coast, whatever the hell a regional coordinator is, had said she would stop by to see me in Tambo. I had forgotten and had been gone all day. I jumped up and called Julio on the phones behind me. He said no one had stopped by at all looking for me, so I left word for him to tell any such people that came that I will be there shortly and then continued with my email. Then I headed to Tambo to wait.

      I planted a few pepper plants in the garden and built shade shelters above them while I waited for Andrea Vaughn to show. As the dinner hour drew near, I knew she wouldn’t be coming. Getting sucked into an EcuaMeal at someone’s house by showing up too close to a meal time is far more commitment than any gringo out on the lamb will be willing to make. After dinner, I sprawled out in my furniture and read a few of the Newsweeks I had received in the mail from the Peace Corps, although I did not do so under the premise that it was actual news I was reading.

      However, lunch came later than normal and afterward I got involved in something until about 1:30pm. But then I decided that if I left at 1:30pm, I would stand too great a chance of catching a packed bus full of Ancon high school kids and would have to stand in the aisle the whole ride getting knocked about by every person getting on or off the bus. I would delay my departure until 3pm, when I could be sure to sit comfortably and stare mindlessly out a window. As 3pm approached, I decided I no longer felt like going all the way to the far side of Libertad just to talk to a computer guy, but as I had angrily bashed the computer guy in Santa Elena earlier, I felt I needed to pretend there was some kind of actual bite lurking behind that bark of mine. I announced to the household that I was off to Libertad to solve this computer problem, but then just went to Santa Elena instead and sat in the air conditioned internet place typing vapid emails to my friends and lazily scrolling through the days news.

      I casually strolled into the house around 5:30pm, refreshed and ready to continue engaging in active relaxation and loafing. Then Julio came and told me that Andrea Vaughn had stopped by while I was out. I slapped a palm to my forehead. He had given me the puzzling, if not troubling information that she had shown up on foot and not in a Peace Corps vehicle. He also told me she had left a note. The note apologized for any confusion concerning the date of her arrival and left me a cell phone number. But, as this visit was a mere formality anyway, I tossed the note aside and loafed.

      Then I got a call from the US. I was fully reclined and enjoying a thoroughly involved conversation in English, when one of the stupid kids Lorena nannies walked into my room. This supreme incongruity didn’t at all register for a moment, as little kids frequently enter my room to stare at me slack jawed without drawing my attention. Then the other 2 animals plus Lorena and her coworker entered. I sat up and asked them what the hell they were doing in Tambo, and more importantly my room. The sentiment had burst out of me in Spanish and so involuntarily, that for a moment, the sounds coming out of my mouth made no sense to me. I was pondering what I had just said while Lorena was responding. When it dawned on me that Lorena had responded and that I had somehow understood what she had said in spite of not even listening, I moved to reply but found my response coming out in English. I used that English to terminate my phone call in order to deal with the chaos that had just invaded my room. Turning back to the 6 Ecuas, the Spanish returned.

      I turns out it was Lorena’s mom’s birthday today, but since Lorena couldn’t ditch the hellspawn she nannies, had thus to bring them along to the party in Tambo. Lorena’s coworker would normally be off work by now and at home with her family, but she is always inexplicably grafted on to whatever party plans Lorena has. Lorena knew better than to extend me an invitation to any EcuaParty, especially an EcuaParty with the hellspawn. In very short order, I got sick of the hellspawn jumping around my room, as well as Lorena’s coworker putting dibs on my things for when I leave Ecuador, as well as Lorena making indistinct demands for the various ways she wanted me to show off the stuff in my room for her coworker. I said nothing, but it suddenly became very apparent I wanted everyone the hell out of my room. After a moment’s hesitance, everyone slowly began drifting in the direction of my door.

      A short while after dinner, Lorena returned with a piece of birthday cake and a glass of cola, in a very Lorenaesque attempt to smooth over my ire. Her sister came immediately behind her with news of some idiot happening at her mother’s party, which sent the two of them scurrying out into the night. I sent the half of the cake I had not eaten in her presence sailing out my side window to the dogs. In spite of promising to bring the dishes back to Lorena’s house when I was finished eating, I did not. Neither did Lorena return to get them.

      I arrived at the Amazona at 12pm, a half hour early, unbeknownst to me. The other 3 people to show up, Lonne, Sally, and a girl who now lives in Libertad that I had never heard of and whose name I cant remember. Around 2:30pm, we broke up the festivities and scattered like cockroaches. I caught a Trunsa bus to Tambo.

      Ivan and Alex were putting up a barbwire fence out in the campo when I arrived. I drifted around for a while and then finally settled down into writing. I quit writing at 7:30 pm and started reading the book Living Poor I had picked up earlier, which every gringo here but me has read. It’s kind of a cool book because it’s about a guy’s experience in the Peace Corps in Ecuador back in the 60’s. His stomping grounds were Santo Domingo to Esmereldas. From the book it is obvious that despite of 35 plus years of development, Peace Corps, as well as Ecuadorians themselves, have not changed very much.

      After lunch, the phone rang. A girl I had met the other day in an internet place was calling. After a while of talking, she let me go, saying she had to go to her grandma’s house but would call me from there. When she called me back, she was crying, having received word at grandma’s that her Padrino was dead. She told me she needed someone to talk to- rather more than a bit of an awkward position to be in. Perhaps even more bizarre, the girl carried on the whole time in English, which she can speak as well or better than my Spanish, even though she claims to have only studied it a few years in high school. I told her I was very impressed that she could cry and speak a second language at the same time. She demured. Somewhere along the line, her aunt sent word through her that she wanted to learn English too. I had the aunt put on the phone and told her she doesn’t know how much work learning a language entails. Aunt was not dissuaded. I told her that every time someone in this country gets me to teach them English, they crap out after a few lessons. Aunt was certain she would not. Having nothing better to do than to meet aunt and throw her a few lessons before she gives up forever, I consented and we set a time for 4pm to meet in Santa Elena.

      At 3:30pm, just as I was getting ready to leave, a fight broke out among the idiot drunks about a block away directly in front of my window. One of the dumb asses involved was the same cousin of Lorena’s that had cut his hand the other week slamming a bottle against the wall while yet drunk out of his mind another time. For this reason, Lorena’s household was out among those breaking up the fray. Spotting me, she and her sister came running up the sand street barefoot to say ‘hi’ and see what I was up to. I told them I was on my way out the door, but they stayed for 15 minutes anyway. Then I left for Santa Elena.

      I found Paola (the girl who speaks English) and Fabiola (the aunt) immediately off the Trunsa in Santa Elena. We walked to their house. I assumed from the niceness and Americaness of their house, that Paola’s dad owns the stationary store she works at. English lesson #1 went great and soon degenerated into passing around a fat 4 month old half Portuguese baby and drinking melon batidas. I have always spent so much time in the very backwards places of Ecuador that it always comes as a shock when I encounter normal people in this country. Paola pointed out several ways in which the Spanish I speak smacks of ineloquent campo folk that I have been learning from. Fabiola invited me to go to a gym with her. To sweeten the deal, she threw in aerobics. I consented to go, though why on earth I will never know. It didn’t sound like a horrible idea for about the 3 seconds encompassing the suggestion.

      Tomorrow, Monday, Fabiola would be going to Guayaquil with Paola’s family to move Paola into an apartment there in the city where she will be attending college. So tomorrow, I was told, English lessons would not work, but perhaps Tuesday I could come over for English lessons at 5pm so that when we finished we could head straight to aerobics at 7pm. Again, why did I consent? Not a clue.

      Back in Tambo, Alex, Ines and I watched an animal bloopers show. Julio was over at the town meeting. Ineva, the mother of Antonio and Ines, was starting some kind of overnight nannying job somewhere tonight, so someone from our house would have to sleep at her house with the kids. I worked on my Extra vocabulary some more, wrung out some clothes I had soaking in fabric softener and went to bed.