Heartspots: Wachirpis, Ecuador

There is a tiny village in Ecuador, just by the border of Peru that I have fallen head over heels in love with. Waichurpis, home to just about 200 Achuar families is where I spent two summers during Grad school. Along with my classmates, we lived alongside this community, learned so much from them and gained a much deeper appreciation for nature, indigenous groups and human rights. 

I even ended up writing my thesis about it. 

It’s been a few years since I’ve been to Ecuador and it has taken me that long to feel the desire to write this post. Not because I have any ill feelings towards that experience, but because it is one that is so tied to my being that I needed a bit of time to reflect and fully process what my time there meant to me. Sometimes you need to step away, to really see how important a place is. 

I still remember the first time I set foot in that jungle. Coming in from the plane, it looked like those trees went on for miles. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. Not a skyscraper, not a cell phone tower, not a restaurant in sight. There were of course a few structures, huts mainly, but it didn’t take long (seconds really) to see how remote we were. 

We arrived on the air strip, which was more of a dirt road to a large group of townspeople. They were waiting for us. Getting ready to greet us. Children ran to the plane to help us with our bags. Young men smiled at us, the women were more shy. I can only imagine the faces and the looks we were sending back to them. (My hope is that they were all smiles, I’m pretty sure the fear in our eyes probably gave us away).

The awkwardness of those first few hours was difficult, but not in a terrifying way, more in a “how is this all going to work out?” kind of way.

 As the days passed, the village became more and more familiar. We started to recognize the families and whose children belonged to whom. We knew who the Shaman was. Who the cook was. We knew the faces of the elders and their wives. We heard the songs of their ancestors. We began to recognize plants and even some of the dangers of the jungle. We figured out how to use the bathroom, bath in the river and even garden in the jungle. We tried to learn words in Achuar (some were better than others). We tried to teach dances and songs to our new friends. And they taught us as well. So much more than we could have ever done. Sometimes we got sick. Somedays we couldn’t stop itching the bug bites that covered our bodies. Some afternoons it was too hot to function. But we still ended up having the best time.

I learned a lot about myself in Waichurpis. For the first time, I understood what it meant to be at peace. I learned what it felt like to forget the world outside, to put down the phone and to unplug fully. I learned what it was to be in tune with not only my thoughts, but with nature around me. I learned the importance of Indigenous knowledge and the power that these people have through their connections to the earth. I learned that western ways are not always best. I learned that I can survive in a tent and bath in a river and laugh in the rain. I learned that it’s okay to get dirty and sweaty and it’s even better to not worry about wearing makeup. I learned that survival is so much more than just staying alive. 

Waichurpis is a place I will never forget, but it isn’t physical town that is ingrained in my mind. It is the people who will always be with me. My heartspot is with each one of them. The ones who made me smile, who frustrated me beyond belief. The ones who taught me and laughed with me and the ones who danced with me. The ones who made me see that I even when I am most stripped down, I am enough. That it doesn’t matter what I wear or how I dress, they accepted me anyways. 

The jungle didn’t need me. But I sure needed it.

It's Fall! And Fall means Football.

Quick post from Kansas City. Last night I went to the Seahawks/Chiefs football game at Arrowhead Stadium.

Since I was in town for work and tickets were super cheap....I figured, why not? It's nearly impossible to get tickets to a game in Seattle and for 5 bucks, I had row 18 off the field, right on the 20 yard line. No complaints!

I got to the stadium early, in hopes of seeing the team warm up and I did! Right by the field. That would never happen in Seattle! I even met Coach Carroll and got his autograph on my sign. I got to see all of the players up close...and though most of the stars didn't start, it was still fun to see them all warm up.

I was surprised at how empty the stadium was. Even when Seattle was terrible, those stands were filled. Sometimes I wish the Hawks weren't so popular so then we could get tickets without spending a million dollars.

The fans at Arrowhead were so friendly, and you'd be surprised at how many Seattle fans where there. I think there may have been just as much blue as there was red!

Seattle ended up losing by one point, but who cares right? Off Season.

I even made it onto the Seattle Seahawks website...whatttt! Famous me :) 

Love this time of year! Love these opportunities! Love the Hawks!

Throwback: Hanging with the Clintons

Way back in 2007, I began my friendship with the Clintons. 

(Correction: If definition of friendship is I volunteered with the Clinton campaign and met each of them a few times, then by all means, yes this was a friendship)  

But this relationship actually stems back quite a few more years. 

My very first introduction to politics was in 1992. The year of the Clinton/Bush election. My class had our very own Presidential election. I believe Bush Sr. won (I think it’s because he was the only name most of us recognized) I am proud to say that it was the only time I’ve ever voted Republican.

I remember seeing a bit of coverage, but at 10, I didn’t really understand it all. 

I was about 11 when my first venture into the world of activism began. I had been watching a lot of Nick News with Linda Ellerbee and back then, global warming and saving the planet were hot topics in kid’s news (or at least that’s what I remember). Knowing that I probably wasn’t going to get the attention of the President himself, I wrote the second best person I could think of: First Lady Hillary Clinton. I figured, in my house, my dad was pretty important and the “leader” of the family, but I secretly knew it was Mom who was really the decision maker (probably due to all the “Go Ask Mom” answers I was given). I still remember the day I sat at the kitchen table to write that letter. My platform was twofold: 1) share my concern about the dying planet and 2) try and get invited to the White House for a sleepover with Chelsea. (Clearly, I knew how to go in for the ask at a fairly young age). 

I received back an automated letter and some flashcards with facts about Washington DC and the President. No invite, but I thought that was pretty neat. At the time, I didn’t realize that it wasn’t really from the First Land and this story would have been much cooler if Hillary had actually written me back, but I digress. It was still neat in my young eyes. 

In the 8^th grade, my social studies teacher, Mrs. K. made us all volunteer with a local campaign. It was then that I first understood and even enjoyed the political process. I stopped wanting to be Agent Scully and started wanting to be a Senator’s wife. 

(Yes, I get it, clearly not a young feminist, but in my defense, I don’t think I realized that women could be actual politicians. Try and name a well-known US female politician from the mid-1990s. I was obsessed with JFK and Jackie and now Bill and Hillary. The wives always seemed cooler).  

From that moment on, I found myself getting involved with campaigns whenever I could. 

Cue up 2007. Year of Hillary and Barack. John and Sarah. Otherwise known and my political candy year. I was living in Indiana, an actual battleground state, especially during the Primary season. We were getting a lot of attention from both candidates. 

And it was fascinating. Growing up on the West Coast, where blueness is pretty much a given, we never saw this kind of national attention. I absolutely loved every moment of it and quickly got involved with the Clinton campaign. I would love to see a female president….but not just because they’d have a vagina. Because they were capable and the best person for the job. I truly believed (and still do) that Hillary is that person. 

I spent a lot of hours making phone calls, going door-to-door and working at events. There was some animosity, but there were also a lot of great people. I met some great friends and had a blast at all the events. 

One day, we found out that Chelsea was going to make a campaign stop at the campus I was working at. Of course, I was going to help out. I ended up being smack dab right behind her while she gave her speech. Turns out, this speech was going to get some very national coverage due to a question about her father’s infidelity.

A week or two after that speech, Coworker S drops by a Newsweek Magazine on my desk. There I was, right behind Chelsea in an article photo. That was pretty crazy. 

During one early morning volunteer rally, I had been up since about 4 am working (Hence, why I look so exhausted in this photo) But that day, it paid off as I was able to chat briefly with Hillary and get a semi-decent photo with her.

I went down to another campus for a Bill event and was able to go backstage before his talk to chat with him. He is the first President I have ever met and it was so cool. I’ll never forget it. I couldn’t believe how soft spoken he was. Very gentile manner, which was incredibly surprising to me.

We worked hard those months leading up to the election. Harder than I’ve ever worked on a campaign. But it was worth it. I loved seeing people’s passion on both sides. On the night of the Jefferson-Jackson dinner, friend K and I somehow made it into the room. I’ll never forget that.

Getting to see both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, speak one right after the other, was pretty darn cool. It made me love the political process even more. 

Weeks went by and more campaigning was done. Big names were coming in for both sides. Who knew Indiana was so important? 

The night of the election, tensions were pretty high. Friend K and I went down to the headquarters, where the party was going to be and the Clinton family would appear at the end of the night. This was a huge moment for the campaign---almost a win or die situation. The night lasted for a long time, we were right in front of it all, hanging out on stage. 

As the hours passed, it was such a close race. But in the end, Hillary won Indiana.

The celebration began and I could finally breath again. 

Oh what a night. 

I’ll never forget it. Nor will I ever forget that race.

Meetings and Laughter and Sutton Foster and Dogs and Coney Island and Broadway and Joy

This past week my team and I were on the East Coast for our August Kickoff meetings (yes, already). This week always signifies the end of summer for me (SAD FACE), but it is always fun to head to NYC and catch up with colleagues before the crazy begins.

This week, we had a bit of free time....and of course I was going to fill it with wonderful NYC things to do. First Stop: Queens for the NY Pops/Sutton Foster concert. I had caught wind of this concert a few weeks before, but since we usually have a group dinner the night before departure, I figured it wouldn't have worked out....however, we ended up having a free night, so three of us hopped on the train right after work and for 10 bucks we got to sit outside, under the stars and enjoy the always delightful Sutton Foster, Megan McGuiness and Colin Donnell. They sang, they tapped and Sutton even brought out her dog Mabel during one of the songs. Very cute.

The sunset was just gorgeous that night and we could see the city skyline from a distance. These moments make me very happy. The entire night was so relaxing and enjoyable. We hit up a nearby pub afterwards to grab dinner and drinks.

Over the weekend, Friend A and I ended up heading to Coney Island (bucket lister) since I had never been there before. FYI folks, if you are ever heading to Coney Island, in search of a Freak Show, you will be sorely disappointed. 

I made that mistake and I was wrong. There are only rides and hot dogs and the ocean.

I know the term "freak" is probably not so PC, but whenever I think of Coney Island for some reason, I always thought there would be those old-timey "Freak" show exhibits. For the record, I did look up "freak synonyms to see if I could find something less....er, mean.. everything that came up was worse:


Regardless, of the normalcy of Coney Island, it was so much fun to go there. We went on a bunch of rides, including the famous 1927 roller coaster: The Cyclone. It was crazy and I can't believe that people rode that thing in 1927. I do believe that I may be past my amusment park prime----but I still had a lot of fun on the rides. I can't say it was better than Dollywood, but it was a great way to spend an afternoon. We also took sometime to frolic in the Ocean. I don't know if I have ever really been to a beach on the Atlantic, minus those few moments in Miami before I headed to Haiti, but it was so nice. I wish we had sand on the West Coast!

Of course, before leaving we had a Nathan's hot dog. Which to be honest was nowhere near as good as a Costco dog.

That night, Friend A and I headed to the theater....like I always make her do, though this time we picked a show that I was sure she would like (not to discredit the times I took her to Tupac: The Musical or Saved By the Bell the Musical) but we saw "An American in Paris." A beauiful show with lots of ballet, Gershwin tunes and a sugar sweet WWII storyline.

It was so much better than I thought it would be. I really enjoyed it!