Ecuador Day 6: In Wait

Silence.

It can be a little unnerving to us folks used to loud late night streets. The honking of traffic, the sirens of ambulances and police cars chasing the wrong criminals, the drunk yelling of friends and enemies, dust. When I first moved to live in Berkeley, I felt exactly as I did this morning. Restless in the silence; as if there was something wrong and out of place.

Today I woke up alone to empty house. Pops was in the hospital, Mathi and the kids stayed overnight in the Quito. Between George, mama Celia, and my sister all sleeping, the quiet silence put me off. I had to get up, I had to make moves. 

Water boiled off the match lit stove and I enjoyed a whole tin of French pressed coffee all to myself before cleaning the house, getting to some long overdue emails. Soon after I took to the yard and talked with Simba the dog. He is a good friend. My sister and Tio George soon woke and we made plans to hit to road. A shower and a bus ride later, and we were at the hospital.

Doctors here tend to tell us one thing, and do another. Whether we could leave today or had to stay yet another night was the topic of debate for the day, we spent the day with the dark cloud of uncertainty over our heads in waiting. Despite not knowing how long we would have to stay, and very anxious to return home, we distracted ourselves with movies and lifesavers candy. 

I am so used to perculated, drip coffee that I make at home, or maybe its the coffee itself, but I really cant find too many other things that bring an honest warmth to my heart.

Funny story about this Star Trek (2009) movie, I watched it for the first time in Colorado with my sister off itunes. I went in with tempered skepticism, knowing that a reboot jump to a classic sci-fi genre with a huge and loyal fan base had to be met with tactful navigation of humor, puns, and call backs. Good on the director's part, I enjoyed the movie so much that we watched it again that night in Spanish, and once again with the staff's commentary. I haven't watched it since, and it felt just as thrilling to watch the landmark scenes over again, with attention to the (mis)translations.

As we waited for the medication to slowly, drip by micro drop, we talked. My father had apparently been stashing articles of anthropology to share and turned me on to one I've never heard of from the UK; I turned him on to Foucault. Politics, world “crisis”, philosophy, putting windows in walls, we talked about it all. 

Of course, just because my father has to stay inside with his hydrating intravenous drip, doesn't mean we had to. The sun is out and the breeze is warm, the grass makes for a perfect picnic or just some time to toss the kids around.  

When Mathi came with the kids from Quito, I took over looking after them while my father and her talked with the doctors. We were hoping to go home together tonight. 

I wore tony out playing tag and hide and go seek that by the time my father was released to our care, my little brother was all tired and asleep. He promptly woke up when the girls rushed from their spot to hug our father who walked briskly from the sliding glass doors of the treatment ward, and we all whent home.

-A