A Condor Taking Flight

We trudged into base camp, taking deep breaths to help us acclimatize to our new home, situated at 16,400 feet, under a beautiful snow-capped ridge in the uncanny shape of a condor spreading its wings for take-off. The girls immediately busied themselves setting up camp, expertly pitching their tents and making neat piles of group gear food. As I watched them, I could not help think how far we have come as a group from the first camping trip we embarked on almost 3 months ago in Ecuador, which was many of the girls' first time pitching a tent or sleeping outside. The 4 days we spent camped under the glacier was unforgettable. It was beautiful, humbling, and brought our climate change studies to a head. It took us 45 minutes of hiking over scree fields and squishy tundra from the base of the glacier to a lonely white post- marking the spot where the glacier's edge reached 9 years ago. Our guides informed us it is now melting at the rate of 6-9 meters per year. Whether an individual girls summitted the 17,500 foot glacier or not, all were challenged and in awe of nature's beauty. From the top, one could see the clouds blanketing the Amazon rainforest and the tallest mountains in Bolivia. Here are a few quotes from the girls on their individual journeys:

From Stacy:
"The climb started at 3 am and forced me to physically challenge myself like never before. Perseverance, discipline, and determination served as my teachers..."

From Helen:
"Climbing the glacier was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was also the most rewarding, beautiful experience of my life. Seeing the clouds far below me and the tallest mountains in the Andes above me was the most amazing sight."

From Lucy:
"Climbing the glacier was the hardest thing I've ever done. Reaching the summit evoked so many emotions within me: accomplishment, happiness, astonishment. I doubt I will ever forget the sight of the massive, snow-capped Andes encircling us as we stood atop the 17,500 foot summit."

From Kay:
"Stepping across the glacier was one of those experiences that makes you realize just how small you are in relation to the world..."

From Bobbi:
"Climbing the glacier is a day I will never forget. I have yet to challenge myself to such an extent. It was stunning, rewarding, physically demanding, and an overall beautiful experience. Our TTS days are coming to an end, and this 17,500 foot summit could not have been a better Zenith to our unforgettable semester."

From Bri:
"Sitting at base camp, I looked around at the beautiful snowy mountains and tried to contemplate what it looked like here 10 years ago..."

From Tate:
"It's humbling to be surrounded by some of Bolivia's highest peaks. There's few places where you can be absolutely at peace in one of the most spectacular places on earth. This was one of those places, and I'll never forget it."

From Payton:
"Reaching the summit after hours of trekking, putting one cramponed foot in front of the other, my eyes filled with tears. I've never worked harder in my life and I felt so accomplished and amazed when I had a 360 degree Andean Mountain view. I truly felt the power of nature when everywhere I looked, snow-capped peaks lingered in the midst of the clouds.."

From Liv:
"As I stood beneath the dazzling array of cloudless stars I felt that there was no place I would rather be. The Milky Way stretched across the entire expanse of the sky and I listened quietly as Juan Pavlo, one of our guides, pointed out the Southern Cross, Scorpio, Orion's Belt, and countless other constellations, telling the story behind each one. Shooting stars flashed across the sky and filled me with a quick jolt of ecstasy each time. It was one of the most awe-inspiring nights of the trip."

From Ina:
"Breathing deeply, I finally reached the summit. After over three months of traveling together, my friends greeted with hugs at the top. Smiling, I felt accomplished and proud of our group for succeeding in our final physical challenge."

From Sarah:
"Sitting under the glacial peaks in the warm sunshine of Bolivia's Andes was one of the most humbling and relaxing experiences..."

From Erica:
"I looked back and saw the glowing line of my companion's headlamps winding their way up the glacier and felt a mix of awe, sadness, and pride for my friends making this journey."

From Mary Katherine:
"One breath at a time- I did what I thought I could not. Now I am a slightly bigger person and the world is a slightly more beautiful place."

While everyone's final experience in the mountains was unique to them, we have all come together to share what made it special for us. The girls are busy today, their final day of the trip, shopping, packing, and writing one another positive affirmations. They shared so many beautiful words last night when we did our "web of appreciation" bracelet giving ceremony and talked through all our fears about returning home. Today and tonight we have a special graduation celebration and ceremony planned that will end with a nice dinner and awards for all. The fun begins in one hour when we will head to our mountaineering guide's house for food, soccer, and gifts. The girls are excited to be coming home, miss you all terribly, and are also nervous about making this big transition. Be gentle with your daughters and give them time and space to open up. Listen to their stories with compassion and interest. We are so very proud of these girls and know you will be too when you see the new light radiating from the center of each one of them. We love you and we will see you at the airport very soon.

-TTS 19

In Travel Journalism, the girls finished up their coursework with a gratifying stack of final drafts; professional, polished articles, accompanying photos, and query letters ready to send out for publication! Keep an eye out for their stories to appear this summer in your local paper and other publications. The Lovely Lit Ladies knocked finals out of the park with an Author's chair session of their impressive, detailed Magical Realism essays. All were exceptionally creative and well-written! In Science, the girls delivered dynamite presentations on Climate Change. After learning about the Andes' dwindling glaciers and their effects on city's water supplies in Peru and Bolivia, the scientists of TTS 19 were ready to take action. After doing extensive research on the issue and interviewing several locals, the girls teamed up to create and implement policy changes and research the latest green technologies. Their multi-genre projects were incredibly diverse, inspiring, well-researched, and passionately delivered. TTS 19 chicas finished up Global class by solidifying their Zenith Project and by practicing the final presentations that many of the girls will be giving to their home high schools a few days after returning home. We look forward to how they all turn out. Congratulations, chicas on finishing up finals and happy graduation from TTS 19! Tonight, we will have a celebratory ceremony to bring closure to our successful semester.

Traveling Thoughts....

The original author of ¨TTS Girl Problems¨ has written another interesting reflection for her Travel Journalism class. Helen does her best thinking on travel days and decided to compile descriptions a few of our semester´s most memorable moments in motion.... Enjoy!

Four Months, Three Countries, Nine Ways of Getting "There"
By Helen

*February 2, 10:30pm*
*Bus*
My first view of Ecuador came in images illuminated by streetlights
and dimly lit bulbs hanging in curbside tiendas. Glimpses of
late-night street goers flashed by as the bus gathered speed. Leaving
the lights of the Quito airport disappearing behind the glass dripping
with condensation, I sped into the unknown. Hours ago, I stood on
American soil that I would not see again for four months. Sitting in
the privacy the darkness offered, my face collapsed into a combination
of exhausted trepidation. A brief flash of light revealed seats
occupied by fifteen high school girls and four women, my Traveling
School classmates and teachers. Across from me, a face mirrored my
own, wearing an expression of weary excitement. I mentally stumbled
through the nineteen new names I learned only hours before, trying
to match the correct one to her unfamiliar face...

*February 11, 2:00pm*
*Truck *
Packed into the backseat, I gave up trying to avoid the inevitable
collisions with girls on either side of me. With every pothole, dip,
and bump in the road, our ponytails swung and bobbed, imitating the
Piña Colada air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror,
reflecting the tan face of the driver. As the car winds along, bare
concrete hut walls grow sparse. Cows outnumber trees, speckled across
hillsides that grow more barren as we increase in altitude. A woman
wearing a full skirt and characteristically indigenous embroidered
blouse cranes her neck, adorned with strands of gold-painted beads, to
observe the fleet of seven trucks bumbling along her rural road. Rain
comes and goes, but the grating Ecuadorian hip-hop continues to play
on repeat from the truck´s antique radio. Chickens run in front of its
wheels, teasing the flustered driver as we fruitlessly backspin in
knee-deep mud. Between exposed steel cable re-bar roof supports hangs
a clothesline, dripping with colorful garments. Pictures of rural
Ecuador flash before my fluttering eyelids as I fend off
pothole-induced nausea...

*March 4, 1:00pm*
*Bus*
Nothing broke up the valley´s bright green color other than the opaque
brown river and black highway- both twisting into the depths of the
Amazon basin. After weeks of breathing oxygen thinned by the Andean
altitude, the air in the bus felt thick with humidity. As I ate my
afternoon snack, the usual medley of raisins and walnuts, I
contemplated how the thick glass of the bus window and monotonous,
uneven asphalt were the only things preventing me from being swallowed
by the vegetation that filled my vision with green...

*March 11, 12:30pm*
* Inter-tube *
My lower body was cold. The water of the Napo River clung to my
exposed legs as I drifted down with the current. But I decided that
shifting my weight to raise my frigid body was too risky. Doing so
might capsize the black rubber inter-tube I shared with another girl,
the two us precariously perched on opposite rims. Somewhere within the
chain of strung-together tubes, someone began singing an 80s song.
By the time she was able to hit the chorus, we were belting out the lyrics
to "I Will Survive," our voices reverberating off the wall of rain forest
threatening to close in onto the river. It wouldn't be much longer until we
arrived downstream to our next jungle lodge...

*Galapagos Islands, Ecuador- March 18, 6:30pm*
*Boat*
With a resounding clang, the dinner bell of the ¨Golondrina¨ demanded
my presence under the deck. Despite the pangs of hunger growing in my
stomach, I wanted to be no place other than where I was. Frigate
bird´s sharp calls pierced the silence as I sat hand in hand with two
of the girls I have now known for a month and a half. We let the
orange sun´s last light brush our sunburned faces, our hair swept back
by the saline wind as the boat sailed forward. The bell rings again,
and with a last look at Bartolome Island slowly being obscured by
distance and darkness, we descend into the ship´s interior...

*April 2, 8:30am
* Foot*
Nothing but my feet carried me up the pass. Nothing but determination
propelled me against the weight of gravity pressing against my 50-pound
backpack. The pass competed with the horizon above me, rising
impossibly high. Pausing for water, I looked down at the progress I´d
made. What I remembered only as labored breaths and carefully placed
footfalls were dozens of switchbacks winding their way past blue glacier
lakes and black cliffs slick with snow that threatened to creep its way under
my rain jacket...

*April 5, 2:00am
*Night Bus*
The second story of the bus swayed as it turned a corner. We careened
around bends invisible to me for the curtain drawn tight across the
bus´s glass windows. The hum of the engine drowned out the sounds of
its sleeping passenger´s rhythmic breathing. My assumption that we had
many hours left to go was instantly proven with the lit up numbers of
my watch. I closed my eyes and flipped over the complimentary,
scratchy pillow. I lazily shifted with the bus, wishing I had taken a
nap between classes in Huaraz...

*April 13, 10:30am
*Train*
It wasn´t until twenty minutes after we took off that the train
accelerated to a speed faster than a leisurely jog. Gazing out the
window and sipping Coca tea, I watched a woman sitting on a passing
train. Her eyes bright with excitement, she, and her fellow
passengers, fidgeted in their seats, eager to reach their destination.
I had just come from Machu Picchu, but unlike the fresh faces on the
passing train, I arrived to the magnificent Inca ruin unshowered and
with a four day trek´s worth of mud caked into the soles of my boots.
The trains parted once again and I sat back, enjoying the leisure of
not having to carry myself across this
distance...

*April 21, 1:30pm
*Horseback*
Tornado threw her head back impatiently, waiting for my cue. I
responded with a gentle tightening of the reins. Behind us, the rest
of the group picked their way down the hill. A great expanse of land
stretched before me, stretching from Cusco, glittering in the afternoon
sun and curving up to the Andes that rose above the ancient city.
Among farmhouses and
sheep-riddled fields lay Inca ruins squalid with time and isolated
by rope fences and prominent informative signs. Sensing others behind
me, I nudged Tornado on and we rode through the fields separating us
from the next site...

*April 26, 11:00am
*Bus*
My row-mate shifted her weight, stirring me from my light sleep.
Around me, the girls I now knew like sisters propped themselves up on
compressible pillows and fleece jackets. Some slept open-mouthed,
headphones fallen loose from their once-attentive ears. Others read,
their eyes flickering between pages, as the Peruvian countryside sped
by. A sign marked the kilometers remaining until the border. Unable to
resist the temptation of a nap, my eyelids fluttered closed. Soon my
passport would include the ink of a Bolivia stamp...

*April 30, 12:30pm
*Water Taxi*
The bus rocked to a stop. Shaken from my pensive window-gazing, I
registered the lack of road before its wheels. Instead, a thin section
of Lake Titicaca lay between us and the other side of the road.
Bridging the distance was not a bridge, but a ferry resembling an
over-sized version of a raft I built in 7th grade. Led to a water taxi,
another raft, this one smaller but with walls and benches, I watched
in barely masked horror as the heavy bus backed slowly onto rickety
planks and the ferry tipped dangerously to one side. I thought of my
backpack, deep inside the inaccessible bus, stuffed with the items that
had sustained me for the past three months. I had come to think of it
as my little portable home, the one constant and tangible piece of my
life, which always moving, drifting, shifting, traveling. Chugging by
in a cloud of diesel smoke, I shielded my eyes from the sight of the
physics-defying bus that crossed the lake as if it was a perfectly
normal occurrence. Two weeks from this moment, I would be boarding a
plane to the United States, leaving behind the continent that has
become my home. I smiled, wondering what I would do with all the space
in my closet.

Vacation Homes - only two days left!

With springtime in the air... please let your friends and family know about our Vacation Home auction. Three generous Traveling School families have donated a week at their properties in the city in Paris, France; the scenic hills of North Carolina, and the fabulous Bridger Mountains outside of Bozeman, Montana. If a family vacation is on the to-do list for this upcoming year - check this out today! The auction ends Thursday!

And, thank you for your support!

http://ttsvacationpropertyauction.blogspot.com/

I believe in Jumping....

By MaryKatherine, wandering seventeen year old


I believe in jumping in to life and the experiences that come with it. When you jump into something new and unknown, you take a risk but at the same time you learn more about yourself and the world around you.

This year has been a year of jumping. In the summer while I was at a lake with friends I decided to jump off a tree that stood high above the lake. It was a popular tree and many of the kids from the small town jumped off it. As I watched others jump from below I began to feel a desire to take the plunge and jump. After announcing it to the group, I began the climb up the tree. Everyone encouraged me, telling me where to put my feet. As I reached the small branch that stretched out over the water and looked down, fear took over my body, but I knew I could not let the fear stop me. Pushing my feet against the branch, I jumped and for a moment I flew.

My friend quickly grabbed my phone and took a picture of me suspended in mid-air. Later when I showed the picture to my mom, she said in astonishment, "When did you become such a jumper?" I did not want to tell her that part of the reason I had jumped had been because of the cute boy who was standing at the bottom, because of how in love I was with the way he shook my hand and how good he looked with his shirt off. However, as I thought about it, I realized I had not jumped to gain my mother's pride or for the cute boy. I had jumped for me, because it was something I needed to prove to myself and the slightly bigger person I became after doing so.

Then came jumping into life. In the fall, I left the comfort of my small, all-girls school in the city I had grown up in to go to big public school in a small town two states away. the experience was just like jumping off the tree. First there was the excitement of doing something new, then encouragement from friends, and finally right before the jump the fear. As the doors opened to the high school gym and I saw the crowd of high schoolers, I remember turning to my friend and whispering, " If I faint, will you catch me?"

"Of course", she replied with a smile, amused by how overwhelmed I was by regular high school.

Just like that I jumped into crowded hallways with couples holding hands, into skiing on Saturdays and going to church on Sundays. I watched the leaves turn vibrant yellow and orange and then the soft white snow fall. Before I knew it I had landed and it was time for my next jump into a semester in South America. I packed my bags and stepped onto the plane. I met fifteen amazing girls, saw countries that had previously just been a shape on a map to me and learned things about myself I could have never learned at home.

I have cried for the world's sorrows, laughed at its joys and been swept away by its endless beauty.  I have touched mountain tops and ocean floors. I have witnessed the strength of women and become a part of communities I did not know existed. I fell in love with life and humanity. All this because I jumped.

At seventeen, I believe in jumping but I know that this belief will change and mold as the winds of the world blow their truths upon me. 

This I believe...

The Traveling School Vacation Home Auction

Hi TTS19!

Friends of The Traveling School have generously donated the use of their unique vacation homes to support changing the world...one girl at a time.

With summer just around the corner check out the wonderful, affordable vacation homes that The Traveling School has to offer for your summer fun!

 

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The Inca Trail / An Invitation...

Trudging through bouts of strong sun and cold rain, over steep and scenic Andean passes, TTS 19 embarked on the challenging and sacred Inca Trail pilgrimage with an adventurous group of parents, porters, and four expert guides, one of whom was the celebrated shaman/ everyone´s ¨bestie,¨ Puma. A 43 kilometer, 4 day trek deemed by one brave soul to be ¨tougher than childbirth,¨ the trail wound high above the Urubamba River, over the 13,860 ft. ¨Dead Woman´s Pass,¨ and through the breathtaking Incan ruins of Llactapata, Runkurakay, Sayamarca, Wiñay Wayna, Inti Punku, and finally Machu Picchu, one of the world´s wonders. Though feet, knees, and legs ached by the end, everyone finished strong- and most importantly- with a smile on their face and love in their hearts. It was an incredible personal accomplishment for all. Puma kicked off the adventure with an invitation to his family´s home where we took part in a weaving demonstration and traditional Andean smudging ceremony to clear any lingering anxiety or fear about the trek. After the trek, we spent a restorative night in Aguas Calientes where we took the most amazing shower of our lives, shopped, visited the hot springs, and enjoyed sleeping in a bed rather than a tent before returning to Cusco. TTS 19 took two different routes to Machu Picchu- one group hiked and rode on horseback over even higher passes and one group hiked the traditional Inca Trail. Parents who participated in both treks: please post to the blog about your experience and share all that you learned with our larger TTS 19 community! We would love to hear your story. To help inspire you, here are a few direct quotes from Puma, our Shaman guide, who sprinkled his wisdom onto all of us throughout the trek, keeping our spirits high and helping us find the strength needed to complete the tough trek:

¨Every thousandth of a second in life is sacred and a miracle...¨

¨In life, nothing is yours but everything is for you...¨

¨There is no word for religion or spirituality in the Andes, it is just life...¨

¨Your soul transcends all things and is a part of eternity...¨

¨Never say you are tired. You are too young to be tired, but it is ok if sometimes you are sleepy...¨

¨Climb a little bit past the mountain top because there is always a little bit more to go...¨

¨You are here to do service...¨

¨Everything you do for someone else, you are also doing for yourself...¨

¨You are never prepared but always ready...because each step prepares you for the next...¨

¨Life is a miracle and so are you...¨

And of course: ¨TODAY IS THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!¨

Parents who joined us on this life-changing pilgrimage, please post and share your stories!

With Love and Light,

TTS 19

Gratitude

We just finished an Andean feast with dancing, talking, and the inspiring company of 35 people coming together with The Traveling School to celebrate this magic. We ate chocolate cake and guinea pig while sharing stories of laughter and learning through travel. tomorrow, we have been invited for an Easter celebration withe Puma and his family. They are graciously hosting all of us, and we are thrilled. As Puma says, today is the best day of your life. And, we agree... with gratitude for all of the friends and supporters of The Traveling School. -Gennifre

We are here!

HI all...

We are in Peru at Lake Titicaca with a wonderful group of parents and friends. We arrived this afternoon to blue skies and big yawns. We are going to spend the next few days acclimating, and we are catching up with the girls for a big feast on Saturday night. We promise to give all of them hugs and stories and lots of love... we are thinking of all of you at home!

With love,
Gennifre and Shannon

Backpacking, For Real

The tunnel of girls yelled at the top of their lungs singing "We Are The Champions," and Miley Cyrus' "The Climb" as they cheered on the rest of the group to summit the pass. It was the fifth day on our seven day long trek in the Cordillera Blanca. That morning we had left what many TTS girls know as The Most Beautiful Campsite in the World at 13,800 feet and began hiking up the many switchbacks to the summit at 15,700 feet. The morning hike brought rain and snow. It was cold and it was challenging, but we arrived to the pass around 11:30 AM, Snickers bars in hand ready to celebrate our victory.

The girls did an incredible job on our week long trek in the Andes of Peru. They fell in love with backpacking; they cooked delicious food; they laughed; they cried and they pushed themselves to their limits. Yesterday we arrived back in the city dirty, smelly, and filled with unforgettable memories of the past week spent in the wilderness. The wilderness taught us lesson after lesson; it showed us its profound beauty and held the space for each girl to come into herself in a new way. After this past week our group is stronger and closer than ever. We look forward to the upcoming adventures that lie ahead.


With Love and Gratitude,

Phoebe

16 Incredible Girls and their Incredible Teachers and Mentors...

We were a few of the fortunate parents who had the opportunity to share this amazing week with TTS19, and experience Guayaquil, Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands....

16 incredible girls (but I think we all knew that already!) and 4 incredible teachers who all want our girls to have a life-changing experience...and I believe they all are!

One week with them in Galapagos definitely changed mine...

I am sending my photos to Jennifer for approval (I know how fantastic any photo is, and apologize in advance for poor picture-taking, and for not getting individual pictures of everyone as we were on a different boat and didn't get to see them all the time)

Please email or call me and I'd be happy to share my trip with you....bontonbk@optonline.net

Hugs to all of you from you daughters ( I hugged them ALL before I left!),

Warm regards, Bonnie ( Katie's mom)

A Rich Cultural Experience

The flute, the fiddle, and the guitar echoed throughout the community center combining into one joyous melody. The upbeat music lifted everyone's spirits and bodies into a dance. The children skipped and twirled around the room to the beat of the drum and the sound of the singing voices. We danced around the table in the middle of the room that held the offering of food the community had gifted to us: a large bowl of potatoes, ava beans, corn, and Qui (guinea pig, which is a delicacy throughout Ecuador). This Despedida (goodbye ceremony) was a gift to us from the bottom of their hearts. The people of the community celebrated our presence in their homes, acknowledged our work, and wished us on our way.

The past week we had the opportunity of getting to know a different culture, a different people, and a different way of life in a very intimate way. In staying in the homes of people from this close knit community in the highlands of Ecuador our hearts and our eyes were opened. They were opened to dirt floors, wooden beds, cold showers, different languages--Quichua and Spanish-- and the love of the children and families of the community.

The last two days of our week long stay we participated in a Minga, a community work party-as the girls refer to it. Mingas happen once or twice every month in many communities throughout Ecuador. It is a time for the community to come together and work on a project that needs to get done with the many hands involved. We were able to lend more hands as we helped to re-tile the roof of the community preschool. Friday morning we worked with the women of the village to remove the tiles and clean them. Saturday lasted longer, and the entire roof was rebuilt by the many men sawing, hammering, and re-tiling. Although we did not join them on the roof, we were a huge help in passing tiles, wood, and other materials in order to get the job done. At one point they decided they needed more wood and sent some men up into the forest to cut down a eucalyptus tree. The men worked fast and efficiently and by the afternoon the roof was done, now ready to withstand another twenty years.

After the roof had been finished we gathered in the community center building to eat, dance, sing, and say our goodbyes. We presented the community with a song in Quichua, speeches from every girl to each individual family, and even a stomp dance that I taught the girls which I learned on my semester as a student. They learned the dance in a short amount of time and performed it incredibly, not only once, but four times as the people loved it so much. We were gifted by the members of the community as well with speeches, hugs, and we all partook in a final dance outside before piling into our truck.

Our past week was a gift and a learning experience. The girls did an amazing job. They fully immersed themselves in their families and soaked up the experience. The Minga and Despedida were great opportunities to interact closely with the members of the community and participate in such a special ceremony and offering. We were impacted greatly by the community and parted ways with heart-filled joy and many memories.

As we continue to travel on throughout the many places of South America we will take this rich experience with us wherever we go.

With Love and Gratitude,

Phoebe

Travelin' On

Hello friends and families!

It is crazy how fast time flies with The Traveling School. A part of me feels like we just arrived in Ecuador and a part of me feels like we have been here forever. There is definitely that part of me that feels like I never left as well.

I love this country. The people, the culture, the music, the smells. Ecuador brings me home to a place inside of me that feels at home. Throughout the past month we have had incredible new experiences and each day brings us closer to one another. Our travels, classes, and experiences make the long lasting memories.

Classes have been going smoothly with somewhat of a sporadic schedule-very familiar of life at TTS. In Beginning Spanish we have been working on more important concepts such as, "me gusta" (likes), time, dates, weather, colors, animals, and familia (as we are headed into our groupstays). The other day I assigned a family tree for homework where the students had to label their family members (i.e. abuelo-grandpa, abuela-grandma) and write a sentence about that specific person. It was great to learn more about each girl's family members and to see how they are now able to successfully construct sentences in Spanish. Coming up we will be going more into depth with present tense conjugations- ar, er, and ir verbs.

P.E. is going great, as well. This morning we had a hard workout including running up and down many stairs a multitude of times. We also did some good stretching and core work. Tomorrow we hope to play Ultimate Frisbee or do some fun relay games to get our heart rates up. The past week the girls got to sweat a good amount with the many hours of beautiful hikes they experienced. We are continuing to be active, get strong, and start our days with a good workout.

We will continue to travel on, have rich experiences, and learn more and more every day.
I hope all is flowing along wherever you may be.

With love and gratitude,
Phoebe

The World is our Classroom: History, Math Concepts & Global

This week has been lovely, it seems each day is bringing us closer to one another as well as with the environment and communities around us. The students are engaged, kind, inclusive and a joy to be with. Their teamwork and helpfulness is ever present, and they are soaking each moment up like sponges!

In History this week we ended our recent conversations about current events in Ecuador talking about immigration between Ecuador, the States, and other neighboring countries. The girls learned about remittances-- how international movement creates a sense of nationalism in those who leave their homes; how migration affects the economies where immigrants move as well as the economies they leave. We are now jumping into the Inca timeline, although first we focused on the pre-Inca cultures -- since Ecuador was not only 'colonized' by the Spanish in the 1500's, but the various indigenous people of Ecuador were taken over by the Incas in the early 1400's. The social stratification the students are seeing in the marketplace and in the highlands is a direct result of early relations between Indigenous, Inca, and Spanish peoples. This week we start our oral presentations, each student has researched a significant member of Ecuadorian or Peruvian history, and they will present for ten minutes on the effects this icon has had, and continues to have, on the population or politics in this region.

In Math Concepts our group is experiencing the Game of Life, both literally and figuratively. The students are engaged in conversation about goals, and finances, personal banking and credit cards. Who knew these subjects could be inspiring? To young minds yearning for more responsibility and freedom, these topics are quite relevant, and the students are soaking it up. The avenue in which we are learning about budgeting and the economy is through fictitious characters: we have a Doctor living in Napa; a school teacher who is a single mom of three in Santa Fe; a woman who works at a spa in Denver with two huskies and a 'dead-beat' boyfriend; and a young college grad living in Burlington, VT with three cats and an urge to spend and volunteer. The students are keeping a budget for all expenses including all fixed and flexible expenses paying for cars, insurance, rent, etc.

In Global Studies we have been reading Savages, a book about the Huarani people living in the Amazon during the exploration of oil. We are gearing up for Oil Day in March. Although dense in some parts, our students are engaging in the book: their comprehension, questions and connections are notable. They help each other understand and engage with what they're reading. This week we will dive into our groupstay activities, encouraging conversation and connection with all students experience. This week will no doubt be a once in a lifetime experience!

All is well, sending good thoughts of safety and harmony to you and your communities at home.
Jenae

And in the Spanish-speaking world...

...we've been tackling a variety of grammar subjects. In the cloudforest, the main house happened to have a full whiteboard, which is a once-in-a-semester occurence. We took extreme advantage of this to hash out certain sticky grammar points that require lots of detail, lots of examples, and lots of whiteboard space.
In Advanced Spanish, we covered the progressive tense (I am doing, we were learning), the personal "a", the distinction between the two verbs for "to be" - ser and estar (Hamlet's "to be or not to be" speech would be a lot less equivocal in Spanish), and direct and indirect object pronouns. The girls should be able to avoid these common pitfalls now, and consequently feel even more confident in their conversations.
Intermediate Spanish recently learned about proper adjective agreement (In Spanish, a spoon is feminine and a fork is masculine. Don't ask me why. But you have to make sure that any adjective you use to describe an object is in the correct form as well.) - one of the most common mistakes we see in both writing and speaking. We discussed the present progressive, how to express likes/fascinations/impressions properly, and the preterite. The girls can now speak in the past tense, a major step forward. And as we move into our groupstays next week, this is especially important!
Abrazos,
Phoebe y Allegra

Que pasa con Algebra?

Where does a traveling school girl take a test? It might be in a hammock under an avocado tree (watch out for the falling fruits), at a fabric-topped table in a dining room, or even in bed. As I type, the Algebra 2 girls are in the middle of their first chapter test - and I'm not sure exactly where they're working on the tests. Given that we are in the midst of our Spanish immersion classes, we aren't holding an in-class test. Instead, I gave the exam to the girls yesterday after dinner, and it is due tomorrow at breakfast - a full 36 hours to work on the test. Armed with only their brains and calculators (it's an honor-system-enforced, closed-book test), Lucy, Katie, Emily, Tate, and Izzi are tackling polynomials in all their various forms. Many of the girls were nervous for this first test, but having seen them all working hard in class, I feel confident that they will excel. It is a relief to the girls to be able to take as much time as they need, because I want them to work slowly and conscientiously. The goal is for them to prove their knowledge and mastery, not their speed. From polynomials, we move on into exponential and logarithmic functions - maybe the girls will even be able to model whether their new Ecuadorian purchases increase or decrease in value over time!
From under an avocado tree,
Allegra

Where in the world is Precalculus?

Pre-calculus is humming along, wherever we find ourselves in Ecuador. It is the only class we have five days a week (or almost five days a week; the most predictable part of TTS is its unpredictability), so that we can cover all the material. I have to confess: I love having it every day! It is much more relaxing to be able to devote the necessary time to each chapter, and seeing our same small group hard at work each day makes me smile. The girls, I think, enjoy it too. We have a very comfortable flow in class: I work with Kay, while Sarah, Stacy, and Livy work through a section, and then I check in to make sure everyone is on the right track. The next day might see Kay working independently while I work with the other three. The extra days of class ensure we can figure things out slowly and carefully if we get bogged down in a tricky problem or section, and have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves in the process. Kay has mastered systems of inequalities and is forging into a chapter on matrices, and Stacy, Livy, and Sarah are just finishing up the second of three sections on trigonometry. While all of them are nervous for the inevitable chapter tests, all the practice problems and individual attention ensure that they will be successful. I'll let you know how things continue to go in the coming weeks, as we progress towards midterms.
Inequally yours,
Allegra

Update from Rhea & TJ girls

Greetings from town! After our adventures last week in the cloud forest, from trekking through the jungle behind our machete-wielding guide to making cheese and planting seeds, the girls are enjoying their Spanish immersion classes and a bit of urban life- Internet, phones, shopping, and ice cream. Last night, we had a final dinner with co-author of The Queen of Water, Maria Virginia Farinango, her musician husband Tino, and their adorable 8 year old son Yanni. She not only shared the exciting news that she is three months pregnant (she desperately hopes it is a girl), her husband Tino also treated us to a private concert in the hostal. With three different types of wooden flutes hanging from his neck and an amplifier and microphone, he played us songs he had written and learned in the Andean tradition- complete with bird calls and the sounds of the wind. The girls were enchanted and teary-eyed by the end.

In Literature, the sharp critical thinkers just completed their final on The Queen of Water and are gearing up to write an analytical essay. In Travel Journalism, the professional journalists of TTS 19 are conducting interviews, helping one another craft the perfect 750 word travel story, and learning new photography techniques. In Science, the naturalists are synthesizing their knowledge about the rain forest into a research project and presentation on a specific organism. Up next is a unit on oil extraction and exploration in the Amazon region. In Global Studies, the girls continue to read and discuss the book Savages, participate in service work, and are beginning to learn the intricacies and various perspectives related to the Chevron-Texaco case. Tomorrow is our last day of Spanish immersion classes and the girls will have some time to bargain at their first ever Saturday market. Sunday, we head to our week-long service project and groupstays organized by the Tandana Foundation and former TTS teacher, Anita Taft. Before we go, the travel journalists of TTS 19 have a new batch of contemplative notes to share with you all: Enjoy!

From Erica:

Cheese Making

The smell of seven three-gallon jugs of milk greeted us as we stepped into the cheese production house in the cloud forest. Our first job, pouring the jugs of milk into a larger green bucket, left each girl struggling to hold the awkward bottles. Each glug of milk brought us closer to spilling the contents of the jugs more on the floor than into the bucket.The milk was then sloshed into a gigantic, stainless steel heating vat that sat over a propane flame. In the meantime, all the girls were put to use either scrubbing down the walls of the house or cleaning the metal cylinders, wood blocks, and green netting used later in the cheese making process. We were shooed from the house after finishing our jobs and told to return in one hour. When we did, our guide poured a beaker of enzymes into the vat of tepid milk, and it started separating immediately. We poured bucket after bucket of the freshly separated curd over the metal cylinders that were waiting to be filled. We then packed down the cylinders with the rubbery curd and thereby ended our cheese making experience. All of the girls left the house smelling slightly sour- and feeling rather accomplished after having done something that before seemed complex, but now seemed so simple.

From Lucy:

Communidad

The faces surrounding me were mostly unfamiliar, yet I felt comfortable- as I if I was an accepted member of this small community. The kind smiles of the people of the tiny cloud forest village effortlessly shattered the culture barrier that could have easily isolated our group from theirs. We huddled together in a small cement room, illuminated by a single light bulb dangling from the low ceiling. Community members sat quietly on a narrow wooden bench framing the perimeter of the room. Two year old children to 80 year old elders all gathered to celebrate our visit and wish us a safe departure.

On a wooden table near the back of the room, a bright pink cake, at least 6 inches tall, adorned with glazed strawberries and eloquent writing wishing Tate a ¨Happy Birthday,¨ awaited us. A baker from the community spent the whole day preparing it for our small celebration. We stood before the cake in shock- by its size, the baker´s talent, and his generosity. Before devouring the monstrous cake that taunting us, we arranged ourselves in a circle around the small room. All 42 of us could not fit perfectly, but we did our best. Gallindo, a native of the village who led our hikes and told us the history and philosophy of this place, began his speech in the middle of the circle. Every few sentences he paused, giving me the opportunity to translate his words for the rest of our group. He thanked us for our visit, and wished us safe travels from here on. ¨We hope that you will one day return here,¨ he told us. ¨This is now your community too.¨

We had only spend six days in this community, yet the people treated us as dear friends whom they would truly miss. They welcomed us and made us feel as though we were a part of their small mountain community of 250 people. After Gallindo´s talk, he pulled out a small, clear plastic bag filled with gifts. He explained that the acorn-sized object he extracted from the bag was a seed found in the Cloud Forest that surrounds his village. It had the village written in small letters on one side, with a loop of string to attach the seed to our backpacks. ¨So you think of us every time you open or close your bag,¨ he said. For each girl in our group, a different member of the community stood up to thank us, wish us safe travels, and hand us our seed gifts. Whether we knew them or not, they hugged us warmly and with sincerity before sitting back down.

Afterward, some girls from our group expressed their gratitude in short speeches, practicing their Spanish. A local man spoke up, telling us the importance of our visit to their community. ¨This community has, for the past 15 years, been trying to go about a new way of life,¨ he said, referring to the conservation and reforestation efforts of the eco community in the Cloud Forest that surrounds them. ¨It is because of groups like you that this community can every day come closer to realizing its dream of this new way of living.¨

It is often difficult to know what subtle impacts our group has on the places we visit. In this community, by helping to make cheese from local farmers´ cow milk, planting seeds in the greenhouse to aid the reforestation effort, and paying for meals and rooms at the local lodge, we have positively impacted this community. I realized the significance of our visit after this man thanked us. In a community who´s economy depends on the profits made from tourism and guests, our visit made a difference.

After the speeches and gift giving, we all received a slice of cake the size of our heads to eat on small paper napkins- and without forks. Music played as we ate, and after a few minutes of standing around, people began to dance. Everyone danced together to the traditional beat. We arranged ourselves in a conga line and danced under a tunnel made by people´s arms raised above their heads, clapping and laughing as we went. Despite the differences in the backgrounds, languages, and cultures of both groups, we all came together to celebrate the impact that one can have on the other. When conversation failed, dancing brought us all together.

From Helen:

Road Trips

The Avett Brothers sang to me as I looked out the bus window. Beyond the glass, distorted with condensation, was my first view of the Southern Hemisphere. I glanced at my watch, then back at the late-night lights of the capital city- day one and a half. Around a turn, then two, then three. The city in all of its sprawl. It is quiet, everyone is exhausted after traveling from one half of the world to another. I see dark chasms and faint outlines of mountains and barely illuminated homes. The dark is relieving, already I am experiencing the weight of the simultaneously overwhelming and exciting departure from normality. The unknown landscape disappears as the wheels bumble over the road...

To my left, the road drops into a valley so profound I am unable to see its extent from my seventh row aisle seat. I am confident it´s the same chasm I saw a week ago. But this time, the sun shines on my surroundings. A small field of corn planted on a steep hillside. A bulldozer precariously perched on a narrow mining road. A woman sits, carelessly holding a thin rope on which a cow is tied. All fly by in quick succession at forty kilometers an hour...

I gripped the side of the car with a sense of urgency. The ponytails of the three of us squeezed into the backseat of the truck bounced with every dip and bump. The entire hour and a half, our ponytails were never still. Deep in rural Ecuador, the houses grew more infrequent. Cows emerged as far more common than trees as the altitude gained. Occasionally, an indigenous woman adorned with strands of gold beads and a ankle-length skirt stood on the side of the road as the entourage of five trucks filled with gringas and backpacks half their size filed past. The rain came and went, the driver´s CD of Ecuadorian rap remained an insufferable constant. Chickens ran in front of the truck as the back wheels fruitlessly back spun in foot-deep mud. The roof of a seemingly unfinished concrete building is sprinkled with clothing, colorful garments dripping with rain. A garden adopts a muddy sheen, a man in a stout hat is bent over the fledgling crops. A black dog chases the car, its tongue lolling. A lean-to I hope is not someone´s home appears. Around another bend, down, trees and their green appear again. I close my eyes, my hands settle in my lap. The potholes are incessant...

The letters on the top of the page of my journal look as though they were inscribed by some rodent with an unfortunate access to ink. This was- embarrassingly- my writing as my hand bumped with the large public bus. In a sudden urge to somehow convey the landscape around me, I had taken out my already worn journal and written, "Still in bus, but I feel like I have to write about how, how, how absolutely beautiful this place is." My messy but genuine words in no way do justice to the extent of the beauty that stretched for miles beyond the open window. Caught without a camera, I gazed out with eyes wide open. The Andes flowed into red-roofed huts and bright green fields. Cow paths cut into the mountainous hills. Landscapes devoid of any feature but sheer vastness. Hardly noticing the bouncing of the bus and the chatter of its occupants, I relax into my seat, arms crossed against the chill, needing to inhale each fleeting scene of unbelievable beauty...

From Kay:

Preserving a Paradise
Bleary-eyed and slightly damp, I stumbled out of my tent on Saturday morning and held back a gasp. The most beautiful landscape of lush, green mountains dotted with houses and cows greeted me. The afternoon before, our bus pulled up in front of the eco-lodge in a small town in the cloud forest. Every direction I looked, there appeared to be a thick, white sheet. Fog obscured any view of our surroundings but we all awoke the next morning to a magical scene. That same morning we met our guide, Galindo, who described to us the history of the community and what they do today. A while back, the community discovered that they could profit from cutting down trees to sell, as well as to create space for farms. In the 1990s, a group of 18 people got together to promote a more sustainable way of life. They began a reforestation project that continues today. They also started a tourism program as an alternative way to bring money into the community. We witnessed these changes during our six day stay in their village. We saw where they are growing young plants and also strolled through an area that had been entirely reforested. I would not have been able to tell, had Galindo not told us that the plants there had been planted in in the 1990s. The whole situation was truly inspiring. Learning about how a small group of people turned an entire community´s way of living upside down made me want to hop on a plane home and start working with my own town. I want to get us thinking about sustainability in our own area- conserving our beaches and having easier access to composting is a good start. We´ve all heard the quote, "Don´t doubt that a small group of people can change the world, because they are the only ones who ever have," and here I have seen a real example of it. This eco-lodge may not have changed the entire world yet, but they have taken the first steps and are teaching others, like me, to do the same.

From Isabelle:

Querer as Poder

"Querer es Poder. Those are my words. I´ve always thought it." These are the words of the inspiring Maria Virginia Farinango, who co-wrote the novel The Queen of Water, a recollection of her life story. Maria Virginia is an indigenous Ecuadorian women from a small town outside of Otavalo. She´s faced many obstacles in her life-- including being a full-time maid starting at age seven, for a Mestizo (mixed race) family who abused her, and having to straddle two cultures at once. However, what´s inspiring about Virginia´s story is not what she had to endure, but how she dealt with it and proactively turned her life around while constantly maintaining a positive, healthy attitude. Virginia has two especially valuable lessons to teach-- how to stay positive when your entire world doubts you, and how to forgive the people who have done the unforgivable. Maria Virginia repeated, "Querer es Poder" to herself like a mantra. It means "to want is to be able to." In the society she grew up in, indigenous people were stereotypically poor farmers who were not expected to have professional careers or a hunger for a higher education. Wanting to be different from the negative influences she had in her life, Virginia educated herself with a passion fueled by a need to be valued and accepted. "I wanted to grow," she said. "If you say you cannot do something... You cannot do it. That is how the world works." Virginia´s positivity is what allowed her to propel beyond difficult situations.

Today, Maria Virginia is almost finished with her Psychology degree. She has always been interested in Psychology without recognizing it as one of her life callings. In high school, she was admired and known for giving good advice. Studying Psychology was therapeutic for Maria Virginia as it helped her understand that she needed to forgive in order to move on from her past. She described recalling her story to co-author and friend Laura as, "Medicine for me. To remember all the things... It was very sad. At the same time, it was a blessing because it helped me to be free from those feelings." Today, Maria Virginia is proud of who she is and what she has become. When asked about her feelings on revenge, she says, "It makes people sick. Because I forgave, I decided to see it all in a positive way."

From Brianne:

In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle....

Dodging vines, mud, fallen trees, and an assortment of bugs, the TTS19 girls headed into the cloud forest with two guides. We drove up a steep mountain for 30 minutes as a snow-capped volcano flashed by. Our long day of excitement and adventure began. Before walking down to the trail-head we were told, "Everyone needs to make a cross out of sticks and place it on the hill with the others." This was a tradition to honor the ancient community that once lived here. All of a sudden, we sporadically constructed our crosses and then circled up for another ritual that consisted of busting out the Macerena. After quite some time, we reached the entrance to the dense forest and hiked in single file on a narrow path carved out by Rolando´s machete. We all took to the hike at our own pace.

Emily and I were separated from the front of the group but were a little bit ahead of those in the back. We had been walking for about five hours and had slipped in the mud many times. Treading lightly was not an option, it became steep and our feet slipped out from under us. I watched Emily tentatively place her foot- trying to keep her balance. Unfortunately, her butt met the ground every time. Despite seeing her fall, I made the identical mistake. Although funny at first, it started to hurt! Even though we were getting frustrated, we kept each other laughing. When lunch finally rolled around, we were covered from our waist down in slimy mud. A tingling relieving sensation trickled down our legs and into our feet during the break as we sat on a bridge and dangled our legs over the river. We were only halfway there, and the time came to get up. All the tired ache in our legs rushed back. From there on out, the majority of the trail was up hill. After a total of eight hours of trekking through the cloud forest, we made it back to the eco-lodge. Everyone was extremely tired but felt accomplished for surviving a wild day in the jungle.

From Olivya:

The Old and The New

My friend´s tired head bumps against my shoulder as the quilt-like patches of steep, green farmland flash by my foggy window. I glance to my right and see three damp bodies snuggled in their raincoats, squished against one another in the backseat of the white pickup truck. Our skillful driver tactfully maneuvers us through muddy potholes the size of small cars time and time again, all the while maintaining his stoic expression. Only once, when we cheer loudly after an especially slippery stretch of road, does he allow is moustached mouth to twist upwards in a faint grin. After hours of bumpy, scenic driving we arrive at a tiny traditional village located on the edge of the cloud forest in northern Ecuador.

In the five or so minutes it takes us to walk from one end of the town to the other, most of the homes lining the streets have propped open their doors to watch us newcomers with curious eyes. Over the next two days, we bathe in the natural hot springs, camp on what seems to be a swamp ground, and eat traditional food cooked by local Doña Maria. Prior to all of this excitement, our guide Patricia led us to Pre-Incan ruins and sites, which proved to be my favorite excursion of the trip...

Patricia dons a thick, black, floor-length skirt adorned with an embroidered teal hummingbird and a colorful anaco to hold her skirt up. Tucked into this, she wears a traditional white blouse stitched with brilliant flowers around the collar. Upon her neck and wrists are secured strands of smooth, salmon-pink beads, similar to the spondilas beads once used as currency by the indigenous people. The vibrant colors pop against her tan skin and our group watches in awe as she shares her childhood with us. When she was born, she was washed with milk and sweet-smelling Andean flowers, in accordance with her villages´ traditions. Sadly, Patricia tells us she was the last member of her family to be a part of this ritual, something she considers special and important...

Patricia´s stories and extensive knowledge brought my understanding of our trip to a new level. She explained that the only way to live in this village is to marry into the community. The village is attempting to maintain their traditions while adapting to developmental changes in the most beneficial way possible. This is evident as I watch construction workers in traditional dress fixing roads, and stores selling indigenous wood carvings to eager tourists. At the end of our visit, I waved goodbye through the bus window to a small boy holding a tattered soccer ball, my mind swimming with new memories. This town is a beautiful and interesting place, but the people and their keen insight regarding their ever-changing future make this isolated stretch of land so much more memorable.

Quick update - we're back in touch!

(photo courtesy of the talented Jenae)
We are just arriving back from nearly a week in a beautiful, tiny eco-community in the cloud forest. It was the first time TTS had been able to work with this community, a privilege that we all felt. Starting fifteen years ago, members of the community came together to organize projects to help sustainably develop the area for tourism, agricultural programs, and cloud forest conservation. Since then, programs have been started for reforestation, jam and cheese making, and community education. In a town of fifty families, almost forty are involved in the projects, and visitors are welcome to help with the different activities, camp, and explore the surrounding area. We began our stay with camping on a gorgeous, rainy hilltop overlooking the ridges blanketed with forest and pasture, followed by a tour of the project and an eight-hour hike (that you'll soon here more about in a separate post). The rest of our stay included half days of classes and opportunities to milk a cow, make the local cheese (another post!), help set up plantings to use in reforestation, and explore a mirador (lookout) and hike down pre-Incan trails in the nearby cloud forest. The sense of welcome we all felt from the community was apparent during the goodbye party and the wonderful comments all the organizers made about how we were supporting the project, about this village's plans for the future, and about how we are now part of the community and should feel welcome to return whenever we get the chance. Moving forward from the town, we will remember their hospitality, inspiring projects, and exquisite setting long after our clothes and tents have dried from the ever-present mist.
With sticky, marmalade-covered fingers,
Allegra
PS The girls will be having town time tomorrow and Saturday, so keep your phones on! I know your daughters are all so excited to share their latest experiences with you.

Parents Desperately Seeking News

Parent stalkers of South America Spring 2012 are so hungry for news!!!! Internet access must be impossible otherwise we would be sure there would be more fascinating updates and photos. Keep up the good work and know that you have fans who are reading and re-reading your every word!
Grandes abracos
Stacy's Mom

History Update from Jenae

History class is constantly surrounding us. Wherever we find ourselves, there are people and experiences that directly apply to what we are learning, and oftentimes experiences we have outside of the “classroom” open our minds to new avenues which we can explore and include in our curriculum. The area where we have been since landing in Ecuador sits just north of the Equator. There is a deep-seated relationship here between the indigenous people and the mestizos (those who are a mixture of indigenous and Spanish heritage); the more we study, read and hear experiences about this volatile relationship the more we see the hierarchy come to life around us. The countryside surrounding our little town, is marked with farms lining every mountain and hillside, and in the basins of these valleys sit the large compounds or haciendas, which are the remnants of the encomienda system imposed by the Spanish. Our group has been staying in a hacienda first built in the fourteenth century, the original chapel still stands. The man who now owns this hacienda, Don Diego, a frail but articulate and respectable man, inherited this land from his grandmother in the time of agricultural reform in the seventies. Last week our class sat in the open air courtyard listening to Diego's lengthy historical compilation of Ecuador's full history from Pre-Incan times through the present, and the hacienda's role within it. Although the information absorbed was a bit overwhelming for the first-time-to-Ecuador-student, their eyes were wide and pens moved a mile a minute to catch each date and anecdote. Diego, a Stanford College graduate and multiple term mayor of nearby Cayambe, set the stage for our class.

The next day our group traveled to Quito, we climbed to the top of the tallest Baroque Cathedral in town, Basilica del Voto National. We stood in the bell tower looking over the city. From a different perspective than before, our group could see the view of the city, twenty miles North to South, and only about three miles wide. From a different view, we directly applied conversations from class about how to see past the mainstream historical perspectives. I have been encouraging the students to question the authors of history, and seek different interpretations and angles. What happens when an indigenous person writes about their experience opposed to the Spanish who invaded and colonized the country? What are we missing about Pre-Incan history and why? The answer lies in the perspective or bias of each author, the view from the bell tower made this theoretical conversation more relevant as we observed new versus old Spanish architecture from above, changing our view and perspective from before when we looked at it from the ground.

Wandering from the top of the church down to Quito's Old Town's Square of Independencia, our history class sat on the steps of a white-washed church overlooking a small protest at city hall. The lesson, based partly on Don Diego's timeline from the day before and expanded the fifteenth century. We focused on the importance of Quito to the indigenous cultures, the Inca civilization, and its pivotal role for the Spanish conquest. Our class had groups of young school students and strapping fellows walking through looking at the visuals I had made, but don't fret - our students stayed bound to the lecture. It turns out Quito has always been a place for people from all locations to come together and trade products and ideas. It was also known as one of South America's great centers for religious learning.

We are now on to more adventures, learning about the international migration of Ecuadorians and the unique way Otavaleno people have accepted modern times and dress and still been able to keep their indigenous roots and culture.

Jenae, and our history class!

Notes from the TTS 19 Travel Journalists...

From Isabelle:

Guayasamin Museum Visit

The eyes were what struck me. They bugged out of their shallow, waxy sockets as if they were yearning to be free. I was in Guaysamin´s museum in Quito, Ecuador. Guaysamin was a famous artist who is known for portraying the suffering of Latin America in his large oil canvas paintings. His most well known work is the "Ternura." It shows a mother with black, wild hair and a weary expression cradling her son, who is peering out from her protective embrace. It represents Guayasamin as a child and his mother. Both are shown with protruding ribcages, which represents his family´s poverty.
The piece with the eyes that struck me is called "The Waiting." It consists of several different canvases, all aligned down a wall. One or two emaciated men take up each canvas. The background is black, for death, and the bodies of the men are white, which depicts fading hope. Although Guayasamin used a limited color scheme ad fairly abstract style, the emotion expressed is analogous to that of a striking photograph. The men are Jewish, waiting in concentration camps during the Holocaust. Their weary, pleading expression was captured in their eyes alone. Through a series of finite, thoughtful brushstrokes, the passion Guayasamin felt was portrayed so clearly that it came through to me like a jolt of electricity through the starving, nameless man´s eyes.

Rose Plantation Visit

Before my visit to the rose plantation, I had a very particular view of roses in my mind. They belonged in bouquets, gripped behind an anxious boy´s back as he waited for his sweetheart to answer the door. I had never considered that eight days before the boy purchased the roses, they were sitting in a vat of chemicals in a warehouse much like the one I visited in Ecuador.

Javier Burvano, the director of quality control, gave us a tour. It is one of more than 30 rose plantations in the area, and produces an average of 40,000 roses per day. With 200 workers and 40 greenhouses, they consider themselves to be a medium sized facility. Although the plantation is certified by the Rainforest Alliance, Javier admitted to us that they are "mostly organic," referring to the fact that they use synthetic chemicals on occasion. However, all of the greenhouses we passed through had "peligroso" signs on the doors stating the times of the last fumigation.
Workers around us were clad in protective gear as they handled the roses; gas masks, raincoats, and thick gloves. Roses around them were soaking in the harsh smelling chemicals. When I inquired about the health of the workers, Javier said that while he had never gotten sick, some workers do experience various symptoms. In our research, we found that these problems can include headaches, cataracts, several types of cancers, infertility, and miscarriages. He also explained that if employes prick their fingers on a rose thorn, the chemical pesticides can enter their bloodstream and damage their heath. Employees are paid minimum wage, about 220 dollars per month, and are deducted 40 cents for each rose they miscategorize or damage. Javier confidently shook his head "No," when asked is that salary was enough to live on. While the health of workers and the environment is a concern, the rose plantations in Ecuador provide many jobs. Roses make up a valuable third of Ecuador´s exports and are an important part of the economy. It was a bit disheartening to see something that I think of as so pure produced in such an industrial setting- it seems so contradictory. The rose business responds to demand. For example, Russians demand long stems and big flowers. Roses bound for Russia are cut to 90 centimeter stems while those shipped to the U.S. are cut to 70 centimeters. If everyone demanded truly organic and sustainable flowers, plantations would have no choice but to produce them.

From Kay:

Rose Plantation

The pungent smell of chemicals assaulted my nose as I took my first step into the processing center of the rose plantation. For a plantation that claimed to use organic chemicals, the smell was sure harsh on the senses. Chemicals are used on the roses while they are growing to avoid a brown edge on the petals, as well as to eliminate bugs. Once the roses are cut, even more chemicals are used to keep them fresh and beautiful. As I watched the harvested roses move from vats of what smelled like chlorine, straight into workers' hands, I had to wonder - is this really safe? We were told that the chemicals are short lasting, but what does that really mean? They can`t possibly be so quick to fade that, in the minute it takes the roses to get to the hands of the men and women sorting them, the chemicals are ineffective. Maybe it was just the headache I had after five minutes, but I didn't get a good feeling about the plantation. Organic can mean anything, depending on how you look at it, and the plantation we visited would definitely not be my first pick of jobs. In fact, when Director of Quality, Javier Bruvano, was asked if he would want his kids to work here, he responded "No." He wanted them to continue their education and find careers. We should know we have a problem when, in the beginning, our lovely smelling gifts to sweethearts are tainted by the sour fumes of chemicals.

A Trip to Quito

After a trip to an old cathedral, our class headed to Independence Square. When we arrived, gathered on the steps of a museum and had a quick lesson on the history of Quito. Our concentration was tested, as there was a protest going on outside of a government building just across the square. It was unreal, learning about the history of a city, sitting in the center of that very city, and observing a peaceful protest. Also, as we were in an urban area for the first time, everyone pulled out their money and bought an ice cream bar - a refreshing break!

From Bobbi:

My glimpse of The Traveling School

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. Many of you may have heard that I recently injured myself. On Sunday, I tripped over a hammock and fractured my jaw and a bone in my chin. I am not able to stay on this semester for the time being, I have to go back to Bozeman this weekend to receive physical therapy. While this breaks my heart, I am so incredibly lucky to have spent the past 15 days with TTS19. Getting into the TTS routine is something that you cannot understand unless you are a part of it. If you know enough about TTS, I am sure you feel apart of it. The past 15 days have blown me away. Before I arrived in Ecuador, I did not realize how empowering TTS is. The fact that 21 WOMEN can travel around the world together- camping, volunteering, hiking, learning, engaging in other cultures, learning to accept people for who they are, and bonding as a group that will always be a family of girls. This was my glimpse of The Traveling School. Once again, I am heart-broken to leave, but I want anyone that is reading this to know that your daughter is one of the luckiest girls I know to be a part of such an inspiring program. Thank you for getting them to South America. Every girl on this trip has a gigantic heart, and I promise you they are having the experience of a lifetime as we speak. To the parents of Lucy, Stacy, Katie, Tate, Payton, Livvy, Izzy, Emily, Brianne, Sarah, Erica, Helen, Ina, Mary-Katherine, and Kay, please know that your daughters are strong, and are learning to become adventurous, genuine, intelligent and inspiring girls. They are in good hands, and I appreciate each and every one of them. Go TTS19! -Bobbi

From Helen:

Oyacachi

Waking-up to my watch alarm at 6:15 am to a wet Thermarest was not my favorite. Neither was discovering that one of my two tent-mates had shared my pillow with me all night. My hair stuck out at impossible angles- at least, that is what I assumed from looking at Tate and Kay. However, when the tent was opened, and then the rain fly zipped away, I was greeted by the cloud forest rising up from the fish bowl that was the indigenous village on the edge of the rain forest, disappearing into the Andes. Overnight, the oppressive drizzle and fog from the day before had lifted, revealing a vista of dense vegetation and waterfalls. My grogginess evaporated like I wish the damp would. It was not just the most beautiful place I had ever woken up in, it was more the realization that I had just woken up in a cloud forest in Ecuador.

Rose Plantation

Until my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the warehouse processing center of the rose plantation we toured, roses came from quaint gardens. Then I blinked and that romantic view of flowers dissolved. An Ecuadorian worker inspected rose after rose, efficiently sorting them into groups. It looked like monotonous and boring work. The roses on his left were the best of the harvest, while the ones closest to me were too diseased, ugly, or short to export. Around him, a dozen other workers were engaged in the same tasks, routinely sorting hundreds of roses. I realized that this rose plantation was much more a factory than a farm. A farm, in my rural Tennessee opinion, should smell like its crops. However, the only fragrance reaching my nose was the not-so-sweet smell of chemicals. This, was a rose factory.
Continuing on the tour of the processing center, I observed the flowers soon to be be brushing some sweetheart´s nose dunked in giant vat of a pungent, unknown liquid. The worker doing the dunking was dressed in a red plastic apron that covered all skin not protected by his rubber boots and gloves. Most disturbing was the gas mask he wore over his nose and mouth. A few minutes later Javier, our guide and the director of quality at this plantatin, explained that the fertilizers and other chemicals they used were "mostly organic." If the organic flowers sold in grocery stores back in the US had undergone similar chemical processes, I would be sure to wash my hands after handling them. Next time I see a bouquet of Ecuadorian roses for sale, I won´t be imagining a garden and a single farmer delicately picking them. I will instead imagine a rose plantation in this northern province of Ecuador with 40 greenhouses and a processing center churning out 40,000 a day of a product about as natural as CoolWhip.

From Erica:

Rose Plantation

Our noses were greeted by the sweet smell of freshly cut flowers as we walked through the side entrance of the rose plantation processing building. However, this pleasant smell would not last long. As we walked further into the building, my nose detected the astringent smell of chlorine, among other chemicals. Our guide said that the tubs of water that we passed were for keeping the flowers hydrated between harvest and processing. From the smell of things, they contained more than just water. After touring the processing building, we walked through some of the plantation´s 40 greenhouses. During our tour, the familiar floral scent I associate with roses was strangely absent from the greenhouses. I noticed a sign outside of one that read:

Caution Fumigation

Chemical: Acrobat

Toxicity: IV

Earlier, our guide told us that this plantation was organic. However, my definition of organic does not include fumigation as an acceptable form of pest control. Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but I began to feel the onset of a headache. Once I regathered my thoughts, I began to ask questions. What is the significance of an organic label if the facility can cause headaches within one hour? Where is the romance in the smell of chemicals?

Ultimate Frisbee in a llama pasture

After being allowed to sleep in half an hour, we put on our exercise clothes and headed out to an ultimate Frisbee field. Well actually, the field was more like a pasture. A llama pasture. All the girls played fiercely, while in the back of our minds we were were very aware of the possibility of being spit on by a llama. And by the end of the game everyone returned to the hacienda unscathed.

From Lucy:

Rose Plantation

"Organic," he said as we stepped into the rose classification room, surrounded by workers in plastic suits, rubber boots, gloves, and gas masks. They wore thick gloves, not risking a finger prick from the "organically" treated roses. "Well, mostly organic," clarified Javier, our guide and the director of quality at the rose plantation we toured. Mostly organic? The United States has a strict set of guidelines and policies outlining the specifications that must be met in order to become certified organic. These guidelines include a rule against synthetic chemicals. However, this plantation used the term in a far different way. At the plantation, about 40,000 roses are exported daily, double that amount around Valentine´s Day. In order to keep these precious roses free of parasites and diseases, the flowers are fumigated in pesticides. After this process, humans are restricted from entering the green house for 6 hours. These chemicals cause skin diseases, miscarriages, and other major complications. Despite this, the plantation uses the term organic to characterize its cultivation process. What struck me was the diversity in bud sizes and stem length of the various roses. Javier explained that the longer and larger roses are for Russian clients, who demand 90 cm stems. He then compared a Russia bound rose to an American one, and the difference was drastic. The American clients, for whatever reason, demand small buds and only 70 cm long stems. What the clients demand, the plantation produces. If a plantation cannot conform and produce what the client requests, they will lose that business, and consequently, a huge source of income. What if the clients demanded truly organic roses? The chemicals used during the rose cultivation process are potent and dangerous. The only way to keep the workers and the environment healthy is to demand organic roses. What we request, they produce, so let us begin the movement toward safe, fresh, and chemical-free roses. After all, who want a skin disease for Valentine´s Day?

From Livy:

Rose Plantation

As I step into the large, cool warehouse at the rose plantation we toured in northern Ecuador, I am hit first by the commotion of workers packing, classifying, and unwrapping roses and then by the strong, sting of chemicals as I take in my first breath. The ruckus is increased ten-fold by rapid, Spanish chatter and festive Latin music blasting from the loudspeakers. We meet Javier Bruvano, Director of Quality at this rose plantation, who shows us the long, delicate process of rose cultivation. First, Bruvano demonstrates how the cut roses are wrapped in a Maya, a piece of heavy netting that bundles 25 roses, before being placed in a tub of cool water mixed with harsh-smelling chemicals to help preserve the delicate beauties. After this, the roses are classified based on size and appearance. As we walk through the warehouse, I notice that many of the employees don rubber gloves, boots, aprons, paper masks, and some even wear gas masks. Bruvano tells us that the chemicals can harm humans if they breath the pungent vapors for too long. Although he doesn't elaborate on the inhalation of the chemicals, he does add that if you prick yourself with the thorn of a rose the chemicals could make their way into your bloodstream. As for the health effects, he says to ask a doctor, but research shows that exposure can result in headaches, irritated eyes, cataracts, respiratory and neurological symptoms, and some women have trouble getting pregnant of have miscarriages. After touring the processing warehouse, Javier leads us to the greenhouses- long white tents containing rows and rows of this prickly plant. As he stops to tell us more about how the rose is grown, I notice a young man in yellow rubber boots wipe the sweat from his brow while shoveling a manure trench around the entire greenhouse. Javier then tells us that the average wage for rose plantation workers is $292 per month. When asked if one is able to live off of this wage, Javier replies simply, "No." As the tour progresses, Javier laughs bitterly and tells us that it is more 'comfy' for the plantation owners to pay the workers less, but it is not so 'comfy' for the workers. Ont top of low wages, if a worker wrongly classifies a rose, 40 cents per bad flower is docked from their already meager paycheck. The 200 employees here, an average-sized plantation when compared to the many flower farms in Ecuador, are not required to wear any type of protection from the harmful chemicals, but most do so by choice. The employees work long weeks for little pay in harsh conditions to send the biggest and best roses all over the world and particularly the United States- so what can we do? You as a consumer have more power than you might think. The market of roses revolves around supply and demand. Americans tend to buy roses with a stem of about 70 cm while Russians prefer roses with a stem of about 90 cm. Javier even shows us the height difference of the roses sent to the different countries. Obviously, these Ecuadorian plantations grow what the people want. If the Russian market demands a bigger bloom, the rose plantations supply it. If the US were to demand flowers grown at a plantation that was healthy for the workers, their wages, and the environment? Perhaps our equatorial partners could supply that too.

From Brianne:

Rose Plantation

At the rose farm we toured, employees dress in bright yellow jumpsuits to protect themselves from water and chemicals that could harm their skin. I thought it was crazy that they give the biggest, healthiest, and most beautiful roses to the United States and Russia while keeping the sick and not-so-pretty flowers here in Ecuador to sell at the local markets. The workers at this farms are led to believe they grow their flowers organically but as an outsider looking, the fumigation signs clearly state when it is and is not safe to enter the greenhouses. The workers know if they get pricked with a thorn the chemicals can get into their bloodstream. The plantation grows what is demanded by their clients. I think that most buyers do not know the processes that roses go through or that humans are being exposed to harmful substances. Rose plantations provide many jobs for locals but the pay is not enough for them to live off of and most of the employees at this rose farm do not have a second job. If more Americans and Russians wanted organic roses and fair wages to plantation workers, perhaps we could put an end to using harmful pesticides on beautiful roses that just sit in a vase in our kitchens looking pretty for a few days until they die.

The Equator

After a long walk down dirt roads, we arrived at the equator. I hopped back and forth between the southern and northern hemisphere. At one point, I did the splits and my body was exactly centered on the equator. After learning a lot about the equator, we headed back to our hostel but took a different path. We met a local working in a garden who said "All you girls are so pretty and we have nothing like y´all here."

From Emily:

Rose Plantation
Compared to his rubber boots, gas mask and apron, his thumb seemed naked, inappropriate in a way I couldn't decipher. My eyes darted away from the man as I saw his head look up, and for some reason I felt like I had caught a glimpse of something not meant for my eyes. Regardless, my eyes greedily drank the image of his exposed thumb and felt the strange sense of adrenaline pulse through my hand as I jotted down my observation. Notebook in hand, I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as I observed the short frame of an Ecuadorian male as he innocently dunked a dozen beautiful roses into a vat of unidentified chemicals. I tried to hide my cringe as the flowers emerged from the churning brown bin. Drips of foul smelling liquid trickled down a pathway of thorns onto the worker´s exposed right thumb, which protruded from his rubber glove.

I found myself distracted by the attire of the other workers and as Javier Burvano, our tour guide and director of quality for the rose farm, discussed the different flower market demands, I grew distraught with questions about the pesticides used here. Throughout the rest of the tour, I scanned Javier's answers to our questions and with every bit of information, I grew more concerned. We've read that chemicals used at rose plantations can cause environmental problems and health effects such as infertility, miscarriages, rashes, headaches, throat problems, and cancer. Javier mentioned that a prick of the finger could ultimately channel pesticides directly into the bloodstream, all the while sustaining a confident smile and outward pride for the questionably "organic" farm. As our tour came to an end, so did my anger towards Ecuadorian regulations. After three hours of observing workers and being appalled by the chemical processes, I realized the power of consumers. A new awakening in my thought process released an array of questions. If Russia and the United States, the two largest rose consumers, didn't demand 40,000 clean cut and precise roses every single day, would the workers at this rose farm find a less effective, but better alternative to pesticides? If consumers took a moment to erase the flower hot line contact from their smart phones and simply started demanding truly organic roses, who knows? Maybe Ecuadorian workers making $292 a month would dramatically benefit from the change in market demand. If only it were as simple as that.