Field Equipment

Field equipment can be difficult to procure for an aid worker, mostly because it's so fragmented across different websites and store locations. There's no "Cabela's Field Economist Warehouse" (though I would love to see one...) so I'm going to try and maintain a guide here to the best sites to search for the products you're likely to need. Rugged cases for laptops, medical equipment, etc.: www.pelican.com iPhone cases (waterproof): www.lifeproof.com Waterproof paper: www.riteintherain.com Waterproof bags:

Ecuadorian Spanish

The Spanish of Ecuador is very distinct, and I'm not just talking about its slang. It's grammar, its colloquialisms, its idioms, its idiosyncracies (or, as Ecuadorians jokingly say, idiosingracias). I'm fascinated by linguistics so I've been keeping track of these unique mannerisms to make a more comprehensive guide than is available out there. There are a few good websites that catalogue Ecuadorian slang and expressions, which I'll list here, but in reality a lot of them contain critical flaws and/or misinterpretations. http://latinamericalinks.com/spanish_slang_ecuador.htm I'm putting my own list here to help anyone going to Ecuador. Keep in mind, I live in the northern sierra (mountains), which means that these slang or mannerisms probably do not extend to the coast. In some cases, it is unique to the Ibarra region. I'll be updating this list and adding the descriptions and explanations, for now this is just what I've been jotting down over time so you'll have to bear with me if it's not well explained and/or nonsensical. Dame + [gerund] [Future tense used as a command, very Ibarreno]: Pondráste saco..., buscarás... Venir comiendo Pasar viendo De una vez Chuta / chusa Aguanta (que te aguante un burro) Pana "rr" Mande Guagua Guambra Que le vaya bien / que pase bien Hasta luegito con los datitos No lo harías? Fuera ... Fuera (hubiera) quería que venga Farra Choro / chorear Chakiñan Trueque Nomás Por ahí Aquisito / acasito Saludar Vos ... Pero (al fin de la oración) ...no pues or just ...pues Que nomás tienen? Quien nomas viene? Buenazo (-azo) Indigena vs indio Mimago Alli chishi, etc Chagra Bajar / subir Limonada Manzanilla Caldo vs locro Tostado (cancha) aka reverse popcorn Que bestia Has tocado fondo Gallina vieja da buen caldo El que tiene y llega a tener loco se quiere volver Ñeque Pleno Bacan Chevere Longo Mono Venir comiendo Ya no mismo Chaquiñan ....no ve? O ....ve "quiebra bancaria" Muy amable frutilla Tener leche Huevada Cachos Chapa (also cerdo) Coco = head A precio de huevo = very cheap Ñaño / ñaña Pelucon = rich, snobby Que foco = how embarrassing Bestia o sea que bestia no comas pan en frente de los pobres agarrar(le a alguien) or agarrarse de alguien chichis moras / moritas biela Dale nomas Yapa / yapita Mija / mijo (really mi hijo / mi hija) Yanta Pana Viuda Manigote ...pero Chuchaqui Ay yay yay Ay ray ray Ay chay chay El man/la man Fresco Vos Huevear Balde Cabeza de huevo Cachinero Camaron Chagra Chiva Chompa vs. saco Chumarse Cuento chino Chuta Dar para la cola / como lo podemos solucionar? Estar con la leona / estar leonsissimo(a) Estar quiebrado Fachoso Facha Fashion Gallada Huasipungo (not house...) Acurrucarse Apachachar Muchar No seas malito Pelado Pelarse los ojos / ojos pelados Pite (used only for something that can be measured) Ruquear / estar ruqueado(a) Sapo = informant (someone who gossips) Simon Turro El/la ex Soplar Zorra Caleta Meter en preso Agringado Aguinaldo Abreboca Abrir cancha A la johnny Acolitar China = maid (derogatory) Estar con la luna (not crazy ... at least literally) Jalar dedo Dame un chance Esperate un chance Chance Trompa / trompudo(a) Estar camote (to be in love) Irse de oreja Vacilar Calientahuevos Calentar las orejas Ser pilas Ponerse pilas Mi camello (trabajo) Camellar Avisame cualquier cosa (or, me avisas cualquier cosa ... cualquier cosa me avisas) Chao Cagarse de la risa (es un cague de risa) Chupar A churrette Sacar la puta ...loco Cabrearse Acolitar Romperse la cabeza Saldo ...no es cierto? Dealer/pusher Pondraste... Iranme Todo se fue a la verga Hecho verga Cara verga Cha-madre Chifa Chulla Criollo Cholo Chulquero / churco Codear Coño Emputearse Ridiculo/hipocrita/ Fregar Friega Es mamavergas Estar fregado No vale una verga Golosina / estar goloso Bolsa != purse or bag Bolas/bolitas Maduro Verde Mamitis Mariposo Menestra Mocoso Mojigato / mojigateria No me peles = no molestes No jodas = no molestes Paila Pajarse / pajoso Papaya (e.g. dar papaya) Parar bola Pendejo / pendejadas Un buen pescado Gallina vieja da buen caldo Viejo verde Pollo Rayarse Taita Amanecer Tardecer Trasnochar Que mismo Que verga Paton Shunsho Sonrisa de chancho Taxista Tirar vs. lanzar Tortillera Toparse Tragado Turro Verchis Veterano Yankee Vaina Meter lio un relajo un buen pescado Perro Ponerle los cuernos Muchar Menso (mensi) Mijin Ingeniero Lamparoso Hijo... Guácala Gringolandia Focha Gato Funda Ichi! Cuy Cuadrar(se) Cola Metiche Chimbo la Chapa = lock Caracho! Batracio Arrecho Aspero / amargado Ya mismo Ahora mismo Ahorita Ahoritita Tapar / tapa Llucho Gas vs. combustible Coger (un taxi) Abreboca Abrir cancha Aguinaldo Alhaja Atatay Botadero Cachero/maricon Caido de la amaca Caleta Cana Cepillo Estar con pereza/sueno Chiro = broke? Estar frito Hacer cola Jamar Jeva Motoso = curly hair Pega Perder el ano Picado (estar picado?) Sambo Sapo Sobrado Traguear Vagre / vagrero Tirar vs. lanzar/arrojar Aprovechar / aprovechador Ama de casa Pastuso Teleferrico Hervido Canelazo Apodo Tronazo A la ionish Que fregaderia Tonterias Quejambroso Blanquito ha sido Haber...tenido/sido/hecho... Hecho un asco No lo comerias? Saber ... = soler

Acabamos de subir Angochagua

This weekend I climbed Angochagua with one of my SRA colleagues.  Originally it was supposed to be a big group, and we were going to climb Imbabura, one of the volcanoes surrounding Ibarra.  Unfortunately, the animal scientist (David) had to take care of a batch of chickens that we received at the SRA office/house, the agronomist (Diego) couldn't go, and so it went from there until it was just me and our accountant Silvia.  The original plan also entailed an indigenous guide who knows the area well, but we weren't going to be able to contact him without the others (who knew where he lived), and so we decided that Imbabura would be too ambitious and decided to climb the less formidable mountain nearby.  Turns out that was a great decision, because Imbabura looked downright scary to climb.  Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of the peak, but it was craggy and not disposed to the first hike I've done since my surgeries.  Silvia told me that it is locally reputed to be a fickle mountain to climb; if one has respect for its danger and proceeds cautiously, you will be OK.  Try to climb it without the proper respect and you will be in trouble.  More of a general commentary about nature from the perspective of this Eagle Scout; I am always amazed by how overconfident one can be about going out into the wilderness.  For example, I vastly underestimated how much water, sunscreen, and food we would need, and by the end of the trek we were so thirsty that as soon as we returned we chugged water and gaseosas (sodas).

We began the journey early in the morning--6am so we could avoid the heavy sun, which I later learned is one of the principal dangers of climbing these mountains--and took a bus to La Esperanza, a small town about 30 minutes above Ibarra.  As you go farther away from the city center, you see more and more people in traditional dress (Ecuadorians call them los indígenas, or derogatorily los indios), which consists of usually a hat like a fedora (or sometimes with a bigger brim, circa American dust bowl times) and dresses that extend to the mid-calf.  The men dress in traditional whites that almost resemble what those participating in the running of the bulls in Spain wear.  I will try to take some pictures--and will definitely explore the role of the indígenas, mestizos, and criollos in detail because it is one of the most fascinating aspects of Ecuadorian culture, especially from the perspective of an American, where race is still a very divisive topic even in this post-racial Obama epoch--but for now a picture that I must credit to primerahora.com and Google Images search.

We arrived in La Esperanza, and hired a camioneta (truck) to ferry us to a higher point more suitable to begin our hike.  Thank goodness it wasn't raining, because it was fairly scary already careening around corners at high speeds on the edge of precipices that drop into rivers or terrace.  We began our hike in a place where I would have already been content to hike to see the view, and I knew that the view from the top would somehow top that already spectacular sight.  Along the way we passed terraced fields and grazing vacas (cows) and obejas (sheep).  We were able to stop and take a few pictures of a high-altitude pasture where two little kids had brought their sheep, whom we first encountered when they trotted past us on their horses while we were taking a water break.  The kids were very shy, but not too timidos to let us take some photos of them.

We continued on to the top but soon found how difficult it was to be.  The altitude is so thin (we were at about 8,000 to 10,000 feet) that just standing up makes you feel the same instinctive terror you have when you are held under water, and your brain automatically has you gasping for breath to satisfy your oxygen requirements.  The altitude also has an effect on your water and energy requirements, which vary proportionally to the altitude.  We had nearly finished our water by the time we were 2/3 of the way up, and had to take breaks every 5 minutes or so just to catch our breath.  You can never underestimate distances when you're trying to figure how long you have to go; what seemed like a stone's throw away up the mountain was in reality 3 or 4 times longer than the naked eye estimates.  We waded through what I can only describe as thick pampas, or grass thickets that slowed us down and sapped our energy.  Unbeknown to us there was a trail less than 30 yards away, but the grass was so thick that we had no idea of its existence.  This whole time, I was being slow roasted like a piece of jerky, even though I had doused myself in sunscreen that seemed at the time to be roughly commensurate with the level of sun, which seemed to be less than what my sunburn by the end of the day was to indicate.

We reached the top and were surprised to find a lake which we set up nearby.  I contemplated drinking from there since it seemed to come directly from rainfall and not have any run-off from other streams that could be polluted with giardia.  However I spotted cow spore and signs of human activity, and we had to conclude that there was at least a respectable chance that the pastoralists nearby use the lake for animals grazing and water, which denied that as a water source unless we could make a fire.  We found an old pot that would have been suitable for boiling water, but I could not get a fire going with what little wet wood I encountered and my lack of energy.  We ate our sandwiches, and then rested while listening to some music on my iPhone.  After it became apparent that I was getting burnt, I further doused myself in sunscreen and realized that I couldn't stay all day so close to the sun.  We decided to explore a little bit before we went down, and discovered that the top of the mountain had about four lakes.  We tried to see the view from every angle off the mountain, and then packed up our stuff and began the trek down.

When we were hiking up, I commented "Es más facíl bajar que subir" (easier to come down than climb up), but within about ten minutes we had to laugh at the irony of my statement, because it was almost as difficult to climb down as up.  It wasn't as demanding on our lungs or energy, but did require all the balance I've built up by skateboarding, snowboarding, wakeboarding, etc.  We found it was easier to simply let ourselves do a controlled fall and slide down the mountain, because otherwise trying to go one step down, then recuperate, then go another step and so on, was too hard on our knees and legs because of the steep slope.  We started to master the proper technique but were still wishing we had a sled or cardboard box we could just slide down.  About 15 minutes down the mountain we started to hear music through the fog.  Ecuador is the perfect combination of moisture and temperature contrast between hot and cold that the fog can become very thick and race in quickly.  We started to lose our bearings and so we decided to follow the sound of the music because we could hear campesinos singing what sounded to me like drunk karaoke at full volume.  Turned out that the music, which sounded very close, was actually about 30-40 minutes away.  When we finally reached what appeared to be a trail along some farmed terraces, I yelled ¡exitoso! (success!) and two campesinas working in the fields turned around and laughed at me, joking in Quechua about the ringu (gringo).  We continued down towards the music, by this time completely lost but knowing that we were somewhere in the right vicinity.  We passed through clumps of evergreen trees that reminded me a lot of the pacific northwest, as a lot of the climate around here does.  Along the way we encountered many of the indígena farmers and could compare our technique to theirs--very unfavorably, if I might add, seeing as we were wearing hiking shoes and packs and still could not help but traipse down the pathway while the indígenas, wearing only sandals and often carrying several children in improvised shawls on their body, were able to gracefully descend much more quickly than us.  The music turned out to be a fiesta thrown every weekend in every aldea (small village) for the workers who live there.  We encountered two gentlemen dressed to impress (by their humble standards of course) the women at the party, and we chatted for a little bit and they asked me what country I was from (which I have been asked a lot: it seems that either I don't have a very distinctly American accent, only one that sounds vaguely foreign, or I do have an American accent but they don't think Americans are capable of speaking fluent Spanish.)

We arrived at the town of La Esperanza, immediately bought something to drink and quenched our thirst, and waived down a truck to take us to the bus stop.  This was perhaps the scariest part of the experience, as we had to hop in the bed of the truck and the driver proceeded to scream down the mountain roads at high velocity, slowing down only for cars coming the opposite way.  We arrived with all of our limbs intact and alive (thankfully), and I vowed not to repeat that experience, even though we did save another hour of walking down the road.  Arriving in Ibarra, Silvia and I both agreed that we were craving a hamburger, and so we went to a stand famous for Ecuadorian-style hamburgers.  They serve them with ham on top, but most of the other ingredients are the same in theory if not in taste (since you can't get the same materials).  I enjoyed it though it still hasn't satisfied my craving for a burger from In-n-Out or Dick's.  I escorted her back to her house, and quickly took a taxi back to the SRA house to drink a carton of milk (because by that point I was still hungry, too hungry to go out for more food) and pass out.  The next day I was absolutely smoldering with sunburns all over my body.

¡En escena!

Arrived in Quito last night, spent the night at the Hotel Sebastian, a nice little spot near the center of the city. I've concluded that sleeping in Ecuador is very difficult, between the traffic (at night red lights and intersections lose all respect, so driving entails honking through every intersection) or the barking stray animals. Nevertheless, I am once again amazed by how beautiful and reminiscent of Washington this country is.

The funny thing about Quito is that at night you don't have to stop at red lights because you'll get carjacked, so it's legally permissible to breeze through after casually looking both ways.  It's nice of lawmakers to recognize their own futility every once in a while, don't you think?

First Post

This is my first post on my new blog, El Economista de Desarrollo (the development economist), a title on which I settled after hours of unproductive brainstorming for something clever.

Who am I?
I graduated from Northwestern University in Evanston, IL (north Chicago) with a degree in Economics and Business Institutions.   I became a development economist at an NGO, the Institute for Self-Reliant Agriculture, which also entailed enrolling in Utah State University's M.S. in Applied Economics program.  Thus, my stateside home is in Logan, Utah, but I'll soon be moving a couple thousand miles away to Ibarra, Ecuador for a six-month tour of duty.  This blog is a good way for me to keep connected to family and friends at home, and also to share some of my observations and pictures.  My posts will fall into two or three broad categories.  Some will be about what kind of activities I'm doing; for example, climbing Imbabura or any of the many volcanoes surrounding Ibarra.  I will also share some of my thoughts and observations on the general culture and life in Ecuador, which I consider to be one of the most beautiful, laid-back, and fulfilling places to live in the world.  Third, I will be posting some detailed breakdown of the economics of developing countries, and illuminate the intersection between economic theory (particularly as it relates to development) and real life.