Beginning

A few weeks ago in Quito I was walking down the street eating a donut. As I crossed the street, two thoughts went through my mind. 1) Can i really call myself a stranger in a strange land when i can easily encounter food and people from my homeland if i desire? 2) It would be highly undignified to hit by a car and die while stuffing my face with a donut. Run.

Today, as i rode the bus to Ibarra from Zuleta, I was the only woman on the bus absent a fedora, an embroidered shirt, a neckclace of glass beads dipped in gold, a colorful pleated skirt, and a very specific type of black shoe. As i am entering my work in Zuleta, I feel i have to be brave, and not shrink away from the challenges of being far outside my culture. Unlike the jungle, there is no guide, and as much I may want to hide in my new room, I have to reach outside my comfort zone and weather the awkward beginnings, the mistakes, and the reality of being the new kid in town, and yes, now i can call myself a stranger in a strange land.