Not Every System Here is Broken

While I'm still trying to figure out how to conclude my naturalization process (which now involves my parents' passports, even though people in this country have told me that it is not a sufficient proof of citizenship...I was told that I need a letter or document from the US government to prove that my parents are US citizens...I'm sorry, but considering that you need proof of US citizenship to get a US passport and a US passport can only be issued by the US government, why is it such a document unacceptable?), I have been doing some other paper pushing here in Cuenca.  And it took less than 45 minutes!

Just When You Thought it was Safe...

So I returned to Quito on Wednesday to finally finish the naturalization process.  I had everything I needed.  All I had to do was go back to the Civil Registry, pay my money, and wait.

The morning went well enough, even though I had to wait two hours for a process that I was told would take half an hour.  But I finally got my papers and all I had to do was walk over to the "rectifications" desk and they would input my data and I would be able to get my ID (NB - apparently I technically am a citizen already, but have no way of proving it until I get my ID, which I need in order to get a passport, which I need to get back into the country if I leave since my work visa expires in three weeks).

Certifiable

Today I went to the Civil Registry in Cuenca.  As I mentioned before, the Civil Registry in Quito would not proceed with my naturalization process until I procured two copies of my marriage certificate, which could only be gotten in Cuenca.

Actually, I need to back up to yesterday.  Yesterday I tried to go to the Civil Registry in Cuenca.  I mean, I went to the office, but they weren't there anymore.  Apparently they are renovating their offices and the temporary location is on the other side of town.  Well, the other side of downtown.  If downtown Cuenca is about 10 by 15 blocks, the temporary offices were about 20 blocks away from the permanent ones.  And I'm not exaggerating, I counted.

Trust but Verify

Or measure twice and cut once.  Actually, in Ecuador you probably should measure three or for times before cutting.

I know I haven't written much lately, but I've been busy.  Besides working, I'm in the process of becoming an Ecuadorian citizen.  I actually think I am a citizen already, and the process involved lots of papers and notaries and copies, but still need to go through the process of getting my ID and passport. 

House Arrest

Tomorrow is the census.  Just like in the US they do it every ten years.  Unlike the US, there is one day that they attempt to count everyone and you must stay in your house all day.  It is against the law for me to leave my house tomorrow from 7AM to 5PM. 

Sigh.  I guess I'll be on skype if anyone wants to call :)

Domsetic or International?

I was on the phone with American Airlines and while listening to the endless loop if computerized information, I heard a phrase that sort of confused me.

"...in the domestic United States."

Isn't that redundant?  Or are there actually international parts of the US? 

That makes me think of when I was at SOM and the receptionists would sometimes announce that someone had an "overseas" call instead of saying "international" or "long distance."

Rants About Ecuador

Caution:  Really long rants ahead!

Yesterday really sucked.  I mean, it was one of those days that made me wonder why I live here and how terrible working here could be.  Two events occurred while dealing with vendors that made me wonder if they had ever heard the phrase "customer service" or understood the concept of "don't lie to your customers".  I'll start with the photographer.

In our contract with the wedding photographer it stated that we would receive 200 prints a CD with digital copies of those two weeks after the wedding.  Well, two weeks after the wedding, nothing.  Three weeks, nothing. Finally, a month after the wedding he finally asks us to come to his studio to show us the photos.

Freaking Friday

After the civil ceremony the day once again got crazy.  I spent most of the day being pissed off at people, especially our wedding coordinator.  I know there are lots of last minute things to be taken care of (which is why one hires a wedding coordinator in the first place), but four days earlier he told us that the baker will drop of the cake at the ceremony site the morning of the wedding, but now he says we need to pick up the cake ourselves the day before.

How to Ring a Doorbell

On my list of pet peeves here in Cuenca is the fact that people do not seem to know how to ring a doorbell.  Some people ring twice, or ring once then wait maybe 5 seconds and ring again, and some people don't even use the doorbell, but just bang on the gate.  Sometimes I arrive at the door and the person who was laying on the buzzer or pounding on the gate is gone.

So please, ring once and wait around for a moment or two.  Gracias.

Officially Single

About two weeks before the wedding, I found out that the certificate that I had gotten last year that stated that I was single was invalid.  I mean, every time we went to check the requirements for getting married in Cuenca, a different women would tell us a different thing.  One said, well the one you have is fine, another said that the document needs to be less than 45 days old, no, actually less than 30 days old, oh, well 90 days is fine.

Carlos and I decided that it would be safer just to get a new copy of the document, easy right? 

Boring Blackouts

Last night we had our first blackout at our house.  It lasted about 10 minutes.  A very dark and boring 10 minutes.

Today we had our second blackout.  It lasted for four hours, from 3PM to 7PM.  I read during the first hour or so, napped during the part of second and a bit of a the third, but I woke up just as it was getting dark and there is really not much to do at home alone in the dark.

My iPod is Possessed

I have an iPod Touch.  The problem seems to be that the screen moves before I even touch it, when my finger is hovering a few millimeters away.  Maybe I will bring it with me to get exorcized the next time I go to the curandera.

Baking Soda Post Script

One thing that I forgot to mention in the previous post was the comment of the stock boy to my shocked reaction to there not being baking soda in the supermarket.  He said to me, "Why don't you just use baking powder?"

Any amateur cook and chemist (or professionals for that matter) knows that they are not interchangeable.  Baking soda is sodium bicarbonate, a base.  Baking powder is sodium bicarbonate plus and acid. While you can use baking soda in conjunction with cream of tartar to replicate baking powder, there is nothing that you can take away from baking powder to replicate baking soda. 

Maybe the stock boys weren't awake in their chemistry classes.

However, at a baking shop I did manage to find a 70g bag of baking soda.  I bought it.  But while ringing it up, the women told us that it had to be sold as baking soda, not sodium bicarbonate, or it would be illegal :)

Answer: Drugs

Question:  Why can't you buy baking soda in the supermarket?

I asked this to a stock boy at the supermarket yesterday and he replied it's because it is used to make drugs.  You can only buy it at pharmacies.  Seriously, this is Arm & Hammer we're talking about, not Sudafed.  And here in Ecuador it's a controlled substance. 

Actually, besides at the pharmacy, you can buy it at most the corner shops in dime bags.  They look like this.

At it really does cost 10 cents.

I just want to bake some cookies and now I'm afraid of going on a wanted list.  So all foreigners should note well - not a good wedding gift.

Burn Baby Burn

Yesterday, like most Sundays, Carlos and I went to Chaullabamba to spend the day with his family. We brought our bikes with, but somehow forgot the sunscreen. When we got there, no one else had sunscreen. We thought about going to one of the shops nearby to buy some, but neither of us had any money. So I figured, "just this once," "it's only a short time," "I don't burn that easily," I'll just go without.

Bad idea. Even though we rode for only about 45 minutes, I got burnt. Even though as soon as we were done riding I covered up with long pants and a jacket and sat in the shade, I got burnt. Even though we hadn't had strong sun in weeks and why should this day be any different, I got burnt.

Maybe, someday, I'll learn.

Still No Internet

And it looks like we won't be getting any in our apartment for a while. Apparently there is not enough capacity in our neighborhood for us :(

Roughing It

The shower in our apartment sucks. It's electric, and supposedly made for the sierra, i.e., cooler climates. For the water to be hot, there is absolutely no pressure. But when there is enough pressure to actually rinse your body, the water is cold. We have already spoken to the owner about replacing it, which we plan to do this weekend.

Apartment Hunting

Carlos and I have spent the past few weeks looking for an apartment. Living with his parents is nice, I think if we had moved out earlier I would have been a bit lonely. In their house there are always visitors, always life. I am forced to practice my Spanish here.

But Carlos feels that it's time to leave the nest. His only experience not living with his parents was our time in Holland. On the other hand, I haven't lived with my parents for almost 10 years (though I do enjoy visiting). I've had five dorm rooms, two apartments, a full year of hostels and tents, one condo, and almost one year with the future in-laws.

Our budget is $200 per month. A typical salary here is $1000 per month. Qualified professionals can make more, working for a mining company one can earn $3500 per month. Minimum wage is $230 per month.

Like everything else in this country, looking for an apartment here is different than in the US. In the states, the visit takes five minutes, you look around the place to get an impression and say to the person showing, "We need to think about it. We'll call tomorrow." You say this if you love it or even if you hate it. Or, if during the visit you make enough eye contact with your partner/roommate(s) to agree that you both/all hate the place, you just say, "Thanks, but it's too big/small."

In Ecuador, the first visit can take an hour. You walk through the apartment. Every room is pointed out, even if it is obvious (i.e., this is the bathroom, this is the kitchen). The walk though takes five minutes, like in the states. But then you discuss. You discuss the apartment, who owns it, and if you know them ("yes, your friend is my cousin"). Then you talk a bit more about the neighborhood, the neighbors ("oh, my friend's parents live on this street") and if the park around the corner is noisy. Then you discuss the parking, the utilities, the price, the contract, and what day of the month rent is due. This is all done even before Carlos and I have discussed with each other if we even want to live there. And usually, as soon as we return to the car, we turn to each other and agree that indeed we don't want to live there.

We have probably seen a dozen apartments, all of which ranged from decent to bad to terrible. One had no windows. It was the right size, two bedrooms, one bathroom, appliances included. But not a single window. Another was spacious and full of light, set in a garden on a hill with amazing views of the city. But it smelled a bit musty and the owner told us that the water marks on the walls were just places where they ran out of the other color of paint. Uh huh, right.

Then there was the apartment where the kitchen was outside. It was downstairs, and next to it was a tiny little room, presumably the pantry. Or was it the dining room? Upstairs was the rest of the apartment. You entered through the bedroom and had to pass it to get to the bathroom and living room. Like that bar in Chicago where you need to walk through the band to get to the bathroom. The whole place was awful and decrepit. For $170. However, if we wanted to live in the house below, which was three times bigger and ten times nicer, it would be $250. Not a bad option, but I didn't trust the owners after seeing that apartment.

Finally, we found one. Actually, Mami found it for us. It is across the street from her sister's apartment, and she saw the "for rent" sign in the window when she was visiting one day. We visited and Carlos immediately fell in love with the place. I liked it too, but it just seemed too big for just two people. It has three bedrooms, one bathroom, smallish kitchen, but sizable dining room and living room. Plus, there is an interior courtyard that is covered, but still open air (for laundry). I would guess that it's about 1300 to 1500 square feet.

Anyway, I had some reservations at first. Besides thinking it was too big (what the hell are we going to do with a third bedroom?), the parking space was too small. Or one can say, our truck is about five feet too long. Actually, it's about three feet too long to fit in the space, but then we wouldn't be able to open the front door.

But both problems have been resolved. We will use one bedroom as a bedroom, another as an office, and the third, the one with the least light, will be only for the TV (since we have lived together I have been on a continuous campaign to rid the TV from the bedroom, I find it distracting and anti-social). Carlos's aunt across the street has a parking space but no car, and out truck fits there. By the way, when I say parking space, I mean a secure one. Here, you can't just leave your car on the street overnight. That's asking for trouble.

We haven't signed the lease yet, but will do so in a few days. We plan on cleaning the place and packing up this weekend, then moving in the next. We plan on bribing his teenage nephews to help us with the move. That's the only thing that I think is the same as in the states...payment for moving is beer and pizza.

A Matter of Trust

I've been looking for jobs lately. It's hard for an expat. None of the rules are the same.

Last week, I brought my resume to a company where a friend of Carlos works. Well, the resume was alright. But it was deemed a bit thin. In the US, you are supposed to limit your resume to one page with just the most important elements and the person hiring can ask for more information if the resume looks promising.

That's not how things work here. You are expected to list every job you've ever had, every project you've ever worked on, every conference you ever attended. You are expected to disclose your race, sex, age, national origin, religion, disability, sexual orientation, and marital status. Well, maybe not all of those, but you are expected to have a photo on your resume.

I was asked to provide my original diplomas so that they could be copied. Not notarized copies. The originals. Most people in the US have their diplomas mounted and nailed to the wall. A diploma is just to look at, not for actual use.

Then, I was told that I would need to get "Certificates of Employment" from my former employers. I'd never heard of that before. That means I needed to contact former bosses and ask for documents stating my dates of employment, projects worked on, cost of said projects, my responsibilities, etc. I mean, are they going to think any different of me when they find out that I used to work on projects that cost half a billion dollars (yes, that is billion with a "b", even though the civil part was a tiny fraction)? They can talk for me for five minutes and find out much more about my experience.

When I first saw Carlos's resume, I laughed at it, because it was a tome. He had the names and dates of every conference that he attended AND copies of the certificates stating that he did indeed attend. Is that really necessary? I mean, just because you have a certificate, it doesn't mean that you learned anything. I was appalled by the behavior some of the guests at the conference I attended last month in Cuenca. People had not only not turned off the ringers on their mobiles, but actually answered them and started chatting in the middle of the conference while speakers were talking. Some eventually left the room, but others didn't. Not only is that incredibly rude, but these people who spent two days chatting on the phone got the same certificate that Carlos and I did. And I should admit that I didn't learn nearly as much as Carlos did since the conference was in Spanish.

But that's how things work here. If it's not signed and sealed and stamped, it is worthless.

I think I will start designing my own stamp.

Bite Me

So, there is an insect here in Ecuador that is tiny, maybe the size of a period. It's black. It seems to occasionally bite my ankles, one bit me on Sunday. I had been bitten before and this was the first time I actually saw the insect. If you had asked me before what it looked like I wouldn't have been able to tell you. Now I know it's small and black.

The bites are extremely painful. Well, the bite itself just itches, but over the course of the next few days there is a dull ache. But that's not the worst part. It starts swelling and itching when you walk. That's where the pain comes in. Fortunately, this time I only got one bite. When my parents visited in December I had six, three on each ankle. And we went hiking (I thought that hiking boots would support my ankles, but that was a bad idea). I complained the whole time.

But the bite is slowly healing and I can walk again.