Livin’ la vida Local: walking around Quito

In this monthly column, project coordinator Megan van der Moezel writes about her experiences in Quito. Livin’ la vida Local: a humorous beginner’s guide to this fascinating country.

By Megan van der Moezel

This month I found a new apartment in Quito. It is damn near perfect. Close to the office, countless restaurants and shops in the neighbourhood and – perhaps most importantly – painted in a lovely pastel green. No seriously, it actually is very pretty. This green home strengthens my sneaky suspicion that only Latin American houses can pull off the kind of colour schemes that would make their Dutch equivalents look like they were decorated by a mad person. Take my previous apartment for instance. It was painted in a manic combination of blue, yellow  and some strange shade of red. Did I mention that the floor was orange? And yet, somehow, it worked.

Those magical colour arrangements aren’t the only strange thing about the dwellings around here. While taking a final goodbye-stroll around my old neighbourhood, I secretly chuckle about some of the other typical Ecuadorian home characteristics. First and foremost: how people enjoy decorating the outside of their houses with ceramic bathroom tiles. Blood red, fake hardwood floor design, frog green, you name it. I’m sure I passed every single version imaginable during the hour-long walk through my barrio. All shining brightly in the sun, as if there was no tomorrow.

Loud footsteps rudely disturb my reverie about these little Ecuadorian peculiarities. Out of precaution, I pick up my pace. Not a moment later the footsteps following me break into a run. ‘This is it’, I think, ‘this is the moment I get robed!’ Shall I just make a run for it? Too late. Having caught up to me, my pursuer slows down to my tempo, and continues to walk right alongside me. The nerve of these thieves! As no gun barrel has been pressed to my temple yet, I dare to venture a subtle glance to the side. Two big brown eyes look up at me curiously. ‘Hola’, I sigh with relief to the little girl of no more than 10 escorting me.

‘Hola!, she says, ‘usted habla Inglès?’
I can’t help smiling. Just the other day, I was asking my Spanish teacher why everybody always assumes that I speak English. His theory? That for many people here in Quito, there are only two types of foreigners in Ecuador. The “Chinese” (aka: all Asian looking people), and the “gringos” from the USA. As I don’t look particularly Asian with my 1.80m, brown hair and blue eyes, I must be a gringa. And gringas speak English.
‘Sí, hablo Ingles’, I therefore grudgingly admit. ‘But I am actually from the Netherlands. We speak Dutch there. English, I learned at school’.
‘Oh’, the girl nods. ‘So can you say something in English?’, she demands. High time to impress her.
‘Hello!’, I bellow proudly.
– ‘That means hola, doesn’t it?
Yes. Can you also speak English?
– No. I do get some classes at school, but I haven’t really learned anything.’

A common story. Being the good project coordinator that I am, I immediately invite her to join our English school in la Arcadia.
‘Where is that?
Across the street from the big Santa Maria supermarket on Avenida Maldonado.
-Ah, there!’
I almost burst with pride, having been able to give directions to a local. Even if it is only a little girl. Secretly, I hope she will spontaneously show up at the school next week, eager to enrol. But as I drop her off at her parent’s little fruit store, I know I will probably never see her again. From a purely narrative point of view, I even feel it is better that way. It is exactly this kind of spontaneous meeting that is so typical of my life in Ecuador. And if you ask me, these quintessential talks with friendly strangers are one of the main reasons visitors are so quick to feel at home here!

Hasta luego!

Megan

© Local Dreamers, experiences volunteer work in Quito