2: Book-ending the previous post

            A relatively tranquil Day One is winding down in Cumbayá, having followed a long and at-times harrowing Day Zero.

            As we came in to land around 10 p.m. last night, I looked out from my window seat at the sea of metropolitan lights. The daunting thought that came to mind was, “Look at all of those people out there…they all speak Spanish.” And so they did. Our (or at least my) introduction to this came in the form of an advertising poster on the side of the jetway. Don’t know what it says? Gotta figure it out, gringo, bienvenidos.

            And because Ecuador wanted to test me early, I (along with compadres Jacob and Chris) fell behind the rest of the group (22 strong, in total) as we got in the line for customs. Upon finally reaching the paperwork checkpoint (and responding to the official’s “Bienvenidos a Ecuador” with a deer-in-the-headlights “Sí”), I joined Jake and Chris as we began to search for our checked bags.  The screen describing what was on each carousel was unhelpful, as neither “Delta” nor “Atlanta” could be found. We bounced from an airport worker to a counter to another counter (Jake doing the majority of the talking) before we finally found our bags. Standing in line for the bag scan checkpoint, we could see through the automatic doors an absolute throng of Ecuadorians. As the last one through, having been separated from the others by an airport worker with a dozen bags that needed scanning, I crossed the automatic threshold alone. A narrow open path lay between two massive mobs of sign-wielding humanity. My 80-plus pounds of stuff and I trundled down the path before I spied my name. I handed my passport to our program director, met my host-mom (though it feels odd to call her that, given that she’s in her early/mid 30s), got in the car, and went home.