Bienvenidos a Quito

The rain starts with just a few drops, then crescendos to an almost deafening roar. The sound is amplified by the establishment's tin roof; we are eating lunch at a traditional Ecuadorian restaurant called Taita Pedro in the valley of Cumbaya, not too far from Quito. "Taita" is the Quichua (indigenous Indian) word for "dad" or "father". I was honored to meet Taita Pedro himself, an 80-year old veteran who lived for 30 years in Maryland after fighting for the United States in the Korean War. He learned the art of cooking by peeling potatoes for the army and subsequently preparing crab meat for a restaurant near the bay.


Here in the restaurant that he pioneered,Taita Pedro himself takes part in the live entertainment; he shakes his maracas with much passion to compensate for the increasing sound of the deluge. The voice and maracas of Taita Pedro are accompanied by two incredibly talented guitarists, who serenade us with songs of Mexican origin. Their eyes light up and their bodies sway in time to rich melodies that they sing in deep voices filled with the emotion of the lyrics. Their fingers pick the guitar strings so quickly that my eyes are not able to follow the strumming. I cannot understand the meaning of the Spanish words that seem to tumble faster than the raindrops, but the music is enjoyable nonetheless. The rain is not surprising to me, nor is it surprising to anyone else. Almost every afternoon this time of year, foreboding, misty grey clouds silently slide over the western mountain peaks, and it's not long until the rain comes. To me, it joins in perfectly with the music.

The rain's arrival this afternoon hardly changes the atmosphere in the restaurant. Instead of a murmur of conversation, the Spanish chatter surrounding me heightens to a louder level to compensate for the downpour. I don't understand much of what is being said around me, but in some ways, the only thing that is unfamiliar about this scene is the language and the fact that I'm in rainy South America instead of snowy Minnesota. The love shown by the family as they greet one another--hugs and kisses, called "besos" or"besitos" are shared by all--is exactly the same love that I feel from my own family in the States, and the hours of conversation we enjoy remind me of enjoyable hours spent at my own grandpa's birthday party just a week before.

After the main course, I am treated to what has now become my favorite part of mealtimes in Ecuador--"sobremesa". It literally means "over the table", but this phrase refers to what occurs after the meal--conversation and enjoyment of each other's company. Now that it's Sunday, I've had the chance to experience sobremesa several times. The weekend has consisted largely of socializing over meals with family and friends, moving from one meal and sobremesa to the next. Everyone has been welcoming, gracious and kind to me, and no social appointment has lasted less than two hours at least. I find this change of pace relaxing so far, but, like the rain on the tin roof of Taita Pedro, I am sure my life in Quito will pick up speed quickly as I begin another teaching adventure at Colegio Americano tomorrow morning.....