One of the ‘joys’ of living in a country where you do not speak the language is that a simple, everyday, common task could quickly devolve into a confusing cacophony of misunderstanding and misinterpretation - and this was just between Greer and me.
Relationships are challenging even under the best of circumstances, and Greer and I recognized that we had the best of circumstances long before we ventured to Ecuador. But by moving to a foreign country with our two adolescent boys, where we did not know anyone and couldn’t speak the language, we had given up our home field advantage. Add to that the chronic, mercurial, hormonal, emotional and temperamental psyche of the female species, against the backdrop of the shallow, stubborn, macho, egotistical male psyche and you have a cosmic convergence of calamitous and cataclysmic proportions; or in our case, a rough and rocky year together. But in spite of the challenges, we were all in for the bumpy ride.
Just to be clear, I am a schmuck, prick, dick head, asshole, ass wipe, …whatever derogatory term you want to use for an unsympathetic husband in a time of need, especially given the life changing undertaking we had embarked upon. Greer had difficulty adjusting to our new environs and I was unable to comfort her or just unwilling to console her; instead I was critical of her inability to adapt, adjust and acclimate to our new situation. Yes, coming into a new country where we did not speak the language was daunting – but that is exactly what we signed up for. However, there was the constant drumbeat of safety concerns that warned us not to be out past 9pm and certainly not to carry anything of value for fear of being robbed. This along with the language barrier, health issues (symptoms of Montezuma’s – or some Incan leader’s revenge) and general home sickness with no friends or family (save for two very loving, sympathetic, but similarly ill-equipped boys and one douchebag husband) Greer felt like a prisoner trapped in a self imposed prison of her own making. After all, she was the primary motivating factor behind this endeavor. Perhaps she was also having some buyer’s remorse and guilt. In fact, one night while lying in bed, Greer opened up and confided in me about her fears, both safety and emotional, and expressed serious doubts about the endeavor. Nothing had gone right, and no one in Ecuador seemed to care, least of all her husband. So my reply…”suck it up and deal with it!” did nothing to alleviate her angst. Actually my response was way more muted (and worse?) than that…no response at all - my silence was deafening. So yes, maybe I could’ve been a little more sympathetic to my wife’s concerns. But hell – it had only been a week!
I wish I could say that it got better as the year went on; and in many ways it did. We made friends, traveled, learned the language (well at least Grant and Garrett did who subsequently served as our interpreters) and we were not mugged, robbed, assaulted or accosted in our whole time there. However, the marital dynamic played out like fingernails on a blackboard.
It is certainly easier to cite the faults of others, especially significant others, but that would be disingenuous, self-serving, unproductive and mean-spirited. So let me begin… But first, I will take the unenviable task of taking my own inventory as challenging and disturbing as that may be. However, it will certainly be more productive and revealing than pointing the finger at someone else, but not nearly as fun or spiteful.
Expectations are disappointments waiting to happen, and it was with that attitude that I embarked on our excursion. However, it’s unrealistic to think that there are no expectations, and perhaps I had the most grandiose of expectations – that I would evolve into this Spanish speaking, sophisticated, Renaissance man. Instead, I turned into a self-centered, petty, curmudgeon who still couldn’t speak Spanish.
The language barrier truly was at the root of my frustration. In preparation for our trip, of the four of us, I was the one who took some Spanish tutoring –I practiced religiously on Rosetta Stone. I was determined to become bi-lingual. Granted, I had no illusions that it would come easy and realized it would be very hard in the beginning. What I didn’t expect is that after 12 months I could barely carry on a conversation in Spanish with our bi-lingual friends and colleagues, let alone with native speaking locals. However, this setback was less about our inability to negotiate the ins and outs of Ecuadorean life than it was a glaring failure of my ability to set a goal and accomplish it. And that was just one of many frustrations that I took out on the one who could understand me… my wife. Yet, given my linguistic liability, I was accepting of the challenges, setbacks, and roadblocks, Greer…not so much.
Part of the problem was that my wife is bi-polar and I am mono-polar. This, of course, is not a psychiatric diagnosis. Actually, Greer is not bi-polar at all (but I am certainly mono-polar); she is a truly amazing and passionate person. Greer will soak up every bit of sunlight like a human solar panel in the Arizona sun and convert that energy into intense conversation, making personal and spiritual connections. Yet along with the passion and intensity comes a dark and dreary side. As a result, her moods shift with changing environments, minor setbacks or something as simple as the weather. And though the weather in Ambato was pleasant enough, the environment (for Greer) was not. We had accepted this undertaking sight unseen, and like anything, you really don’t know what you’re getting into until you get into it; and Ambato Ecuador, population 165,000, elevation 8,500 ft., was what we had gotten into. And therein lay the problem…mono-polar meets bi-polar, an immoveable object meeting an unstoppable force.
It all goes back to expectations. Whereas my expectation was to get an Ecuadorean experience, whatever that may have been, Greer’s expectation was…well, whatever it was - it was certainly different from mine. For me, it was about living in a community, learning the language, working and experiencing Ambato, Ecuador in all its splendor. However, from Greer’s perspective, there wasn’t much splendor, and if there was, we didn’t stick around long enough to explore it. Ambato (and I?) never had a chance – Greer had already written it off.
Yet, just a short hour bus ride away was the tourist town of Baños. Baños is the jumping off point for lots of Ecuadorean adventures. It caters to a mostly backpacker clientele but includes more luxurious (by Ecuadorean standards) accommodations. In our first day in Baños – Greer fell in love with the place - and all was good about Ecuador. She soaked in the lush green Andean mountains that matched the beauty of her piercing green eyes. The “Gateway to the Amazon,” Baños, named for the therapeutic hot thermal baths heated by the nearby Tungurahua volcano, took on an almost mystical appeal. The surrounding the Andes mountains, rather than appearing ominous and overwhelming, seemed more protective and comforting. The soaring mountains were like plush velvet drapes providing warmth and a soothing calm over the chaotic world that awaited us in Ambato. And for Greer, this was why she came to Ecuador. Always one to be drawn to water, the thermal baths warmed her blood and the seven waterfalls of Baños rejuvenated her like a raft floating through rapids (which we would partake on several occasions). But it wasn’t just the serenity of the scenery that scintillated her senses. She had a “spiritual” connection with some shaman dude who seemed to hit a chord with her in her professional/academic world as well as her personal life. Soon they were talking about her deceased sister and her doctoral work as if he were a long lost uncle who also served on her dissertation committee. She had arrived! Greer connects very well with people – much better than I do. A true extrovert, she gets (and gives) energy from those she meets. And Baños gave her those connections. On the other hand, I am more introverted and do well on my own with or without those connections. But the joys, energy and connections of Baños were short-lived – because as soon as we got back to Ambato – it was more of the same doom and gloom. Our brief visit to Quito was the same way …“I wish we were living here instead of Ambato”… but, we were not offered jobs and a free apartment in Quito, Baños or Paris. We were offered jobs at the Universidad Technica de Ambato. It was with that in mind that I thought once we settled into our humble Ambato abode – it would get better… What was it that I said about expectations?
Relationships are challenging even under the best of circumstances, and Greer and I recognized that we had the best of circumstances long before we ventured to Ecuador. But by moving to a foreign country with our two adolescent boys, where we did not know anyone and couldn’t speak the language, we had given up our home field advantage. Add to that the chronic, mercurial, hormonal, emotional and temperamental psyche of the female species, against the backdrop of the shallow, stubborn, macho, egotistical male psyche and you have a cosmic convergence of calamitous and cataclysmic proportions; or in our case, a rough and rocky year together. But in spite of the challenges, we were all in for the bumpy ride.
Just to be clear, I am a schmuck, prick, dick head, asshole, ass wipe, …whatever derogatory term you want to use for an unsympathetic husband in a time of need, especially given the life changing undertaking we had embarked upon. Greer had difficulty adjusting to our new environs and I was unable to comfort her or just unwilling to console her; instead I was critical of her inability to adapt, adjust and acclimate to our new situation. Yes, coming into a new country where we did not speak the language was daunting – but that is exactly what we signed up for. However, there was the constant drumbeat of safety concerns that warned us not to be out past 9pm and certainly not to carry anything of value for fear of being robbed. This along with the language barrier, health issues (symptoms of Montezuma’s – or some Incan leader’s revenge) and general home sickness with no friends or family (save for two very loving, sympathetic, but similarly ill-equipped boys and one douchebag husband) Greer felt like a prisoner trapped in a self imposed prison of her own making. After all, she was the primary motivating factor behind this endeavor. Perhaps she was also having some buyer’s remorse and guilt. In fact, one night while lying in bed, Greer opened up and confided in me about her fears, both safety and emotional, and expressed serious doubts about the endeavor. Nothing had gone right, and no one in Ecuador seemed to care, least of all her husband. So my reply…”suck it up and deal with it!” did nothing to alleviate her angst. Actually my response was way more muted (and worse?) than that…no response at all - my silence was deafening. So yes, maybe I could’ve been a little more sympathetic to my wife’s concerns. But hell – it had only been a week!
I wish I could say that it got better as the year went on; and in many ways it did. We made friends, traveled, learned the language (well at least Grant and Garrett did who subsequently served as our interpreters) and we were not mugged, robbed, assaulted or accosted in our whole time there. However, the marital dynamic played out like fingernails on a blackboard.
It is certainly easier to cite the faults of others, especially significant others, but that would be disingenuous, self-serving, unproductive and mean-spirited. So let me begin… But first, I will take the unenviable task of taking my own inventory as challenging and disturbing as that may be. However, it will certainly be more productive and revealing than pointing the finger at someone else, but not nearly as fun or spiteful.
Expectations are disappointments waiting to happen, and it was with that attitude that I embarked on our excursion. However, it’s unrealistic to think that there are no expectations, and perhaps I had the most grandiose of expectations – that I would evolve into this Spanish speaking, sophisticated, Renaissance man. Instead, I turned into a self-centered, petty, curmudgeon who still couldn’t speak Spanish.
The language barrier truly was at the root of my frustration. In preparation for our trip, of the four of us, I was the one who took some Spanish tutoring –I practiced religiously on Rosetta Stone. I was determined to become bi-lingual. Granted, I had no illusions that it would come easy and realized it would be very hard in the beginning. What I didn’t expect is that after 12 months I could barely carry on a conversation in Spanish with our bi-lingual friends and colleagues, let alone with native speaking locals. However, this setback was less about our inability to negotiate the ins and outs of Ecuadorean life than it was a glaring failure of my ability to set a goal and accomplish it. And that was just one of many frustrations that I took out on the one who could understand me… my wife. Yet, given my linguistic liability, I was accepting of the challenges, setbacks, and roadblocks, Greer…not so much.
Part of the problem was that my wife is bi-polar and I am mono-polar. This, of course, is not a psychiatric diagnosis. Actually, Greer is not bi-polar at all (but I am certainly mono-polar); she is a truly amazing and passionate person. Greer will soak up every bit of sunlight like a human solar panel in the Arizona sun and convert that energy into intense conversation, making personal and spiritual connections. Yet along with the passion and intensity comes a dark and dreary side. As a result, her moods shift with changing environments, minor setbacks or something as simple as the weather. And though the weather in Ambato was pleasant enough, the environment (for Greer) was not. We had accepted this undertaking sight unseen, and like anything, you really don’t know what you’re getting into until you get into it; and Ambato Ecuador, population 165,000, elevation 8,500 ft., was what we had gotten into. And therein lay the problem…mono-polar meets bi-polar, an immoveable object meeting an unstoppable force.
It all goes back to expectations. Whereas my expectation was to get an Ecuadorean experience, whatever that may have been, Greer’s expectation was…well, whatever it was - it was certainly different from mine. For me, it was about living in a community, learning the language, working and experiencing Ambato, Ecuador in all its splendor. However, from Greer’s perspective, there wasn’t much splendor, and if there was, we didn’t stick around long enough to explore it. Ambato (and I?) never had a chance – Greer had already written it off.
Yet, just a short hour bus ride away was the tourist town of Baños. Baños is the jumping off point for lots of Ecuadorean adventures. It caters to a mostly backpacker clientele but includes more luxurious (by Ecuadorean standards) accommodations. In our first day in Baños – Greer fell in love with the place - and all was good about Ecuador. She soaked in the lush green Andean mountains that matched the beauty of her piercing green eyes. The “Gateway to the Amazon,” Baños, named for the therapeutic hot thermal baths heated by the nearby Tungurahua volcano, took on an almost mystical appeal. The surrounding the Andes mountains, rather than appearing ominous and overwhelming, seemed more protective and comforting. The soaring mountains were like plush velvet drapes providing warmth and a soothing calm over the chaotic world that awaited us in Ambato. And for Greer, this was why she came to Ecuador. Always one to be drawn to water, the thermal baths warmed her blood and the seven waterfalls of Baños rejuvenated her like a raft floating through rapids (which we would partake on several occasions). But it wasn’t just the serenity of the scenery that scintillated her senses. She had a “spiritual” connection with some shaman dude who seemed to hit a chord with her in her professional/academic world as well as her personal life. Soon they were talking about her deceased sister and her doctoral work as if he were a long lost uncle who also served on her dissertation committee. She had arrived! Greer connects very well with people – much better than I do. A true extrovert, she gets (and gives) energy from those she meets. And Baños gave her those connections. On the other hand, I am more introverted and do well on my own with or without those connections. But the joys, energy and connections of Baños were short-lived – because as soon as we got back to Ambato – it was more of the same doom and gloom. Our brief visit to Quito was the same way …“I wish we were living here instead of Ambato”… but, we were not offered jobs and a free apartment in Quito, Baños or Paris. We were offered jobs at the Universidad Technica de Ambato. It was with that in mind that I thought once we settled into our humble Ambato abode – it would get better… What was it that I said about expectations?