Happy Places

I seem to only write here when I have nothing good to say, so right now I've come to say that today was a good day.

My teaching partner got sick this morning, so I was all jittery about having to teach alone. But somehow it went perfectly. I covered everything in my lesson plan, got the kids talking a lot, and felt in control of the whole classroom situation. The kids even surprised me by guessing patterns that I had yet to explain to them.

My good teaching day makes me remember all the good of the past couple of days.

First there was the beach. Besides for the beautiful green water and the warm sun, the best part about the whole trip was the food. Not that the food at the hostel is bad, it's just that the daily portions of meat, starch, and vegetable can start to seem fairly boring and unsatisfying after a couple of weeks. On the beach, everything seemed like a treat. First there were the batidos. It's a fruit milkshake, but it's not actually as gross as that sounds. Then there was the fresh seafood. The best kind to get was ceviche, which is kind of like really chunky salsa with shrimp or some other ocean creature in it.

My personal favorites were banana splits and corn. You could buy either of these things for about two dollars on the boardwalk just a couple minutes away from our shoreline hostel. The vendors put the corn on the grill in front of you, and, once it's cooked, they roll it in seasoning and cheese. Probably one of the best things I've ever tasted. A banana split is pretty self explanatory. (I'm describing all of these things in such great detail because remembering them is almost like eating them again).

Last night we weren't ready to return to the routine of Otavalo life, so we headed out into the town after dinner. Night life is more or less non-existent here. The only ones out on the street after nine are the dogs, and it's a struggle to find an open restaurant or cafe.

First we headed to The Pie Shop which sells exactly that--pie. Strawberry, Raspberry, Apple. I would recommend the chocolate with ice cream. When it closed (probably around ten), we moved to the bar where the program director likes to play music. Again, we were the only patrons. We painted with watercolors and sipped wine and listened to music. Basically, we were the kids for once.