Quito is a Sausage.

¡Claro que si! Constanza, la nieta de me homestay abuela (se llama Francia) dice que la ciudad de Quito parece una salchicha. Como un "hot dog".

I laughed when I heard this, and, as nervous as I was, began to relax na little as Constanza and her Brazilian boyfriend, Marcos, pick me up from the airport. They assure me that my SPanish is, in fact, very good, seeing as how this January, Francia had two students from Australia and Hong Kong, neither of whom spoke a lick of español.

Bueno. ¿Porque Quito parece una salchicha? (I am guessing that salchicha also doubles as slang for something else, because Marcos gives a huge guffaw to hear his adopted city described as such). Constanza chuckles.

She explains in the dark, as we drive past buildlings and signs (which remind me of downtown LA) that Quito is surrounded to the East and West by a large mountain range and volcanoes. Pichincha is the name of the mountain range and the volcano is called Guagua Pichincha (guagua is pronounced wa-wa and means ¨baby¨in Quicha, an indigenous language). Because of Pichincha, the development of the city has stretched along the North and the South, como una salchicha. Quite narrow and long!

Marcos and Constanza give me a small tour of the city or, at least, the part of the city that I need to know to maneuver myself through the next few days. There is not much I can see in the dark, except for the illuminated signs of the McDonald´s, KFC, TGI Fridays, and yes, Tony Roma´s. Ecuadorians apparently love their American franchises. Also there is a Chinese restaurant (Chifa) that is owned by Koreans. Note to self: will eat here later.

Finally, I arrive ¨home¨. The neighborhood is quiet--everyone here apparently sleeps, as Constanza puts it, from 10 to 10. Marcos grabs my bags, assuring me that they are not too heavy (they are). ANd the three of us make small talk about the practicality of my two bags as we wait for Francia to answer the door.




She doesn´t.



Constanza peeks through the window and giggles to herself. She says something in very fast spanish to Marcos and he, again, guffaws. ¿Que tal? I ask.

Francia has fallen asleep in the back room, in her chair, with the TV on. I look for myself and see the tiniest old woman stooped over. When standing, she reaches the bottom of my chest. Adorable.

We let ourselves in, I introduce myself and share photos of my family. (Mom and Dad, they all think you look too joven to have a daughter as viejo as me. In fact, Francia asks me, ¨Tienes tres hermanos? D0s hermanos (Dad and Jon) y una hermana?¨) We laugh a lot.

And then, I feel incredibly dizzy. La altitud, Constanza says.

Yep, I have altitude sickness. Just some nausea and light headedness so far, nothing too severe. Walking up the steep hills of Quito and Old Quito are not just daunting because of the necessary leg work, but, due to the altitude, I feel like an 80 year old woman, winded and heart pounding. This, of course, is getting better with each passing day.

Walking up and down the streets is an experience in and of itself, by the way. The other students keep telling me about the huge asian population they read about in their guidebooks, but, gathering from my non-encounters and the looks of people off of the street, that doesn´t seem to be the case. Little kids on the street shout out, ¨Grrrrriiiiiiiiiiingoooos!" to the other students, but only stop to give me stares. It was alarming at first--I had wanted to ¨fit in¨, but clearly, that is NOT going to happen. So now, I´m embracing my super-tourist persona. It´s much easier to impress people with my Spanish and (thank God) everyone speaks much more slowly. I know I have to be extra careful, because I stick out like a sore thumb, but so far, no problemas.

While the altitude sickness and the asian invasion were bummers, my room is cheerful and bright. It is painted a peachy yellow with a dresser and mirror and a large clost. I do have my own room, though there are two beds. When I lay down, I feel as though I am in a hammock. There are daffodils on my sheets--they make me smile.

And perhaps, friends, this is where I should leave you for the time being. There is much more to say and write, but another time.

--Sarita.