Spontaneity for the win! Or Why The Language Barrier is Really a Friend in Disguise.

Today was unexpectedly awesome.

I went to the park around 12 to see about playing some soccer. To my surprise, there were a good 50 or 60 kids at the park, which is usually empty around that time of day. As usual, the people playing on the Cancha wanted nothing to do with some clumsy looking gringo; No one asked me if I would like to play, and judging from the way they completely ignored me,

So, I decided to juggle the little ball I brought with me, just to show them that I wasn’t completely inept, and maybe prompt one of them to invite me to play. It ended up working, but in a way that was entirely unexpected. See, instead of the exclusive assholes on the Cancha asking me to join, three girls randomly walked up to me while I was watching the game, and asked me if I wanted to play with them..

It felt pretty good to actually be wanted/included for once, so I quickly agreed. We played for about five minutes, before deciding to take what ended up being a permanent rest. I sat down with the three girls and two of their friends, and did my best to converse in a terribly butchered, simplistic form of Spanish. Apparently, they were there for some kind of “break the ice” thing, as it was their first day of University. That explained the hefty amount of students and beer that weren’t usually present at the park. They weren’t too fond of a lot of the people there, which is why they chose to bestow their friendship on me.

Oddly enough, despite my lack of a substantial vocabulary and inherent inability to be at all interesting, we hit it off really well. We talked about the usual stuff, classes, cultural differences, how shitty I was at Spanish, and what went down on the weekends. To my slight dismay, they had never heard of beer-pong. I tried to explain it to them, but I’m pretty sure that some of the finer points were “lost in translation,” so to speak. Oh well.

Somehow, my ill-fated trip to the Salsa club last weekend came up, and they eagerly suggested we go to some bar for some dancing. Oh great. The imminent occurrence of looking an absolute dolt. Just what I wanted to do in front of my new found friends. But they were really cool, and I wanted to see for myself the of a bar that was open at 1 in the afternoon, so I agreed.

We took a bizarre way to the bar; 5 parts walking and 1 part bus. It was probably the least efficient way of getting there, but it gave me some time to talk to them, and cultivate some credibility before my coolness level plummeted once we stepped onto the dance floor. We talked a lot about Ecuadorian politics and I got to ask them about the student movements. I’m planning on doing my independent study project about the various student movements, so it was awesome to get a chance to talk to some actual students about that. Hopefully these girls should be a pretty good resource once I get down to doing the heavy research. Lucky me. One interesting thing that came out of this discussion; In Ecuador, what constitutes right and left wing is completely different than in the US. The left wing is comprised of socialists and anarchists, which are almost completely non-existent in the popular American political realm. The majority of right-winger’s are capitalists, but not necessarily conservative minded when it comes to other issues, a stance that is common to many democrats in American politics. Just thought some of you might be a bit interested in that, being as cultured and informed as you all are.

Anyway, so after what must have been a good hour, we finally ended up at our destination; a shady, nondescript looking white building a few minutes walk from where my classes are. We went in, and ordered a shit load of Pilsner, which for some reason is wildly popular here, for only a few bucks a piece. I had about five minutes to maintain my dignity and conjure up some beer-induced courage before the first Salsa song blared over the speakers.

Fortunately, this went much better than my previous salsa endeavor. We were almost the only people on the dance floor, so that made it a bit easier to relax, and also meant I received a good amount of snickering on behalf of the male patrons. Assholes. I’d like to see THEM try to grind with some girl like we do in the States… Oh wait…A horny dog possesses the skill set required for grinding. Anyway, I actually did pretty well for myself, all things considered, and expanded my salsa knowledge a great deal. I learned some pretty sweet, more intricate variations to the basic step, and a BADASS “figure 8” maneuver, which involves like 4 consecutive spins and is certainly going to become a valuable asset to my salsa repertoire.

After a good bit of dancing, we went back to the table for some rest, and more Pilsner. Despite the language barrier which has thwarted me so persistently thus far, I was actually able to communicate with them pretty well. In fact, somehow I was actually able to carry on an enjoyable conversation. I would say the most boring, unimaginative things, but after they were doctored up by my accent and broken phrasing, they apparently ended up being some of the wittiest comments I’ve ever made. These girls laughed at almost everything I said. I barely had to think and yet somehow I was on my game. I was Tiger Woods on the 18th green. I was MJ in the finals. I was Leo Messi against Real Madrid.

That accursed language barrier finally did me a favor for once! Maybe the much maligned entity that we know as the language barrier is just misunderstood. Somewhat like Beast from Beauty and the Beast or Nutella to the majority of Americans.

Anyway, after a while we left the bar and went home to change / prepare for Friday night, which here it is apparently necessary to prepare for because the whole Saturday and Sunday are usually spent recovering.

I met them later that night, and we went to a party at some kids house. Nothing too interesting happened; Your typical cast of drunks and their antics that your all quite familiar with, accompanied by some pretty sweet reggaton (sp?). I just hung out, talked, and danced a bit, it was well fun. ( <-- British expression, not a typo. Duh.) I grabbed a taxi back around two and got home without any problems, which is always a relief, seeing as after midnight it’s common practice for taxi drivers to run red lights without hardly slowing.

All in all, it was a pretty great day. I made my first Ecuadorian friends outside of my family and their friends. Five in one go as well! If you include my family and the two friends of my “brother” that I met, that brings my total of Ecuadorian friends up to 11, which means my popularity here has officially surpassed my popularity level back home. I don’t really know whether to be happy or sad about that.