Running

Corriendo

It was a Tuesday. I woke up and spent the morning, into the early afternoon, at my high school observing English classes and occasionally reading English passages out loud for my teachers (because I have the native pronunciation down really well), and helping students with their assignments and questions which is by far my favorite part, especially with the younger classes who are always really cute. Anyhow, when I arrived home it was roughly 5:00p.m. I was feeling somewhat inspired and decided I’d go for a run (I must have really been inspired because I pretty much hate running) to and around the small lake that’s by my house. So I’m dressed, (in capri pants a UF t-shirt, whoo! And Go Gators!), and have my ipod in hand, and my keys and some spare change perfectly tucked into my sports bra. As I’m walking out my bedroom door, I hear our front gate open and seconds later my host mom walks into the house. “Hola Yessi!!!” she says to me and asks me what I’m doing. I explain that I’m about to leave to go for a run and I ask her how she is doing and how her day was. She says that all is well and tells me that I should come with her, that I can go to the park with…(for the protection of her identity)…Karly (my youngest host sister who’s 15) and that I could run there. Immediate suspicion. Bad vibes. My instincts are screaming no! this is a bad idea! So, I asked for more information about the park. Where is the park? (by my host grandmother’s house)What’s at the park? (A basketball court and some grass) Is she sure I can RUN at the park? Yes, yes, of course, come on! She says to me. So we walk outside and I meet my host grandfather for the first time. Turns out he is essentially the sweetest man ever! andddd the spitting image of the old man from the movie UP. Spitting. Image. So, we get in his car and drive to my host grandmother’s house, which driving on the uneven roads and cobblestone was more like Mr. Toad’s Wild Adventures ride—a small but significantly scary roller coaster like journey, where still, sitting in the back of the car I experienced what would be the bulk of our hydraulics. We eventually arrive, surprisingly unharmed, and as we get out of the car my host mom whips out her phone. I didn’t have to take another step towards the house to know that not only were we not at the park, but Karly wasn’t either at the park or my grandmother’s house. In confirmation of my suspicions, I hear my host mom tell Karly to come to the house and take me to the park. Seriously? Okay. Apparently Karly didn’t know about this plan back when my host mom concocted it because she showed up with two of her cousins. After they arrived, my host mom instructed them to take me to the park. As I’m walking I’m wondering how this is all going to go down. I’m a Gringa and they’re walking me to a park so that I can go running. Okay. That much we know. But, assumptions aren’t valid here. I had initially figured that maybe Karly would be exercising or interested in going to the park as well if not that she was already there. Wrong. Her and her cousins were each wearing skirts and heels. Not park ready clothing. So as we’re walking, I’m becoming more and more impressed by their ability to traverse the cobblestone in their without dying, but I’m still unsure about the running. What are they going to do while I run? Where will I run? What is happening in my life??? So we walk to “park #1”. The basketball court. This park is a basketball court on a hill. No funciona bien. Awkwardly I tell them that while yes, I had wanted to run and that’s why we’ve been walking, that it’s really okay, there’s no space and it’s actually not a big deal, I can just go running tomorrow.  Eso no funciona tampoco. They insist we go to another park. So we walk to park #2, this time a volleyball court. On our way I explain that we should just return to my host grandmother’s house because it seems silly for me to be the only white girl here running especially around the volleyball court where 8 Ecuadorian men are going at it. They smile and laugh a little and try to convince me that it’s not strange or awkward for me to run around the men while they sit in their skirts and heels and watch. I beg to differ. So I say again that it’s truly okay that I’ll just run later. They say they know of one more “park” that we can go to. There was no getting out of another try so right as I’m about to explain the English idiom “three strikes, you’re out” we arrive. It’s another basketball court but this time there is a decent amount of grass space. Not enough to really run on or around, but significantly more than the other two “parks” so it makes sense why they’d take me here. With one exception. As we’re nearing the basketball court it takes me a while to notice the grass space because on top of it sits a very large blue tent. I’m distracted by the tent and wonder about its contents. As we approach it, I see that a line of 3 people (no one else is around) has formed at its entrance, and the sign above it in bright yellow and white lettering, reads, “Circus”. I just about die. The CIRCUS??? Really? A circus?! The only potentially usable grass space was occupied by a CIRCUS. Of course. I mean really why wouldn’t there be a circus here, out in a barrio far away from the center of the city, in a very low-traffic area. Karly and her cousins begin walking around the tent, and point to the tiny bit of grass space not being overtaken by it and suggest that I run there. Not going to happen. People might come and think I’m part of the act! I have to stand my ground. I insist again that it’s really fine and that we’ve walked so much anyway that I’ve gotten good exercise and that because of this I’ll just try and run tomorrow. This seemed logical enough so we returned to my host grandmother’s house where we spent the next three hours doing, well, nothing. =)