I have just finished my first successful week at the lodge. And let me tell you, it was no, NO easy task.

The work is HARD, dude. I have never worked so physically hard in my entire life. Every day we do something different, which is good. Tasks have included: clearing underbrush with a machete from plantain and sugar cane fields – I bet a lot of you didn´t know I could use a machete, did you? Well neither did I. I sort of fling it about pretending I do and it seems to work okay. We also spent a day making cement out of clay for an oven they were constructing for making sugar. Lot´s of fun there. But then we come to my favorite task so far: heavy lifting. Now, I bet a lot of you think, Chloe? Heavig lifting? But I´m here to tell you that, contrary to what you might think I...okay I totally suck. While I struggle under the weight of one giant wooden beam which I swear ways as much as I do, stumbling up hills covered with undergrowth, getting stung by horseflies and caterpillars, sweating under the tropical sun, practically falling to my imenent death, the Ecuadorian guys carry three at a time making it look easy as pie. But hey, at least I´m doing it.

Although I DO apréciate being treated as an equal, I honestly COULD do without the heavy lifting. Last week there were only three volunteers, me and two English guys. One is in his forties and is the ex punkrocker type; the other was in his twenties and of the trying-to-figure-out-what-the-hell-I´m-doing-with-my-life persuasion. Similar to myself. He was my homeboy, but elas, now he is gone. Some more people are coming next week though I think.

So besides volunteers there are like six or seven workers that live at the lodge. They are all pretty cool, and none of them really speak English, which is great for me. These guys are hilarious actually. They have a really funny sense of humor, often revolving around body parts – things are the same the whole world ´round it seems – and they spend a lot of their time making fun of the volunteers. The other guys more than me because they don´t speak Spanish. And me, instead of helping my English compadres, just made fun of them along with the Ecuadorians. I´m so bad. But it´s kill or be killed out here in the jungle...

You do have to be quick to keep up with these guys though. And I am proud to say I am managing it rather well. They have made fun of my Spanish accent enough though that I think I might entirely quit lisping rather soon..a little sad but actually it´s way easier to talk without it. We had an interesting cultural exchange where they taught me some Ecuadorian slang, including words for ¨cool,¨ ¨lame,¨and male and female reproductive organs, and I taught them the equivalent in Spain. Very interesting to learn the similarities and differences. They were not, however, that impressed with my booger song, for some reason.

Right now I am the only girl up there and I do enjoy this coveted position. Of not only being the only girl but the only one who can really talk to them. I think they do find me rather amusing. Perhaps this will make up for my startling physical weakness. This weekend I´m staying in Nanegal, and tonight there is a village fiesta party at the highschool, which apparently everyone will be attending. That will be interesting. I hope I don´t get too drunk and embarrass myself. I already stand out enough at it is as the only white girl, I don´t have to become the white girl who got way too drunk at the village party.

But anyway. This place is amazingly beautiful. It has been rather hot in general, but it also has rained some days. It´s quite humid and it´s hard to get your clothes to dry on the line. The other day the older volunteer, one of the guides and I got up at four in the morning to go see the lek of the cock-of-the-rock. Oh stop being so immature, it´s a beautiful, endangered bird. It´s a brightly colored red, and they have a large, flashy round group of feathers above their beaks. Every morning at dawn they gather at this particular sacred place to squeek and squawk for about an hour, impressing the ladies. It was really cool to see. We also saw some little monkeys along the way, though I forget what kind. The sad thing is that even this far away from civilization, you can still see the lights of Quito at night.

Life definitely moves to a different beat out here in the cloud forest. Right now I can hear the oink of the neighbor´s pig outside the window, the cockadoodledoo of their rooster, and across the way I see people chatting in the village square and playing ecuavolley. Interesting cultural experience: last weekend I was here with Andrew, my English homie. We were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting. The kitchen has a giant window with no glass or anything, so of course you can hear everything going on outside. So here we are, talking about something banal like movies, and we start to hear this godawful, terrifying, unidentifiable SCREAM from outside. At first both of us are ignoring it but it keeps going on. Whatt the HELL is that? we think. So I ask the kid who lives here and see says the neighbors are killing a pig. Okay, I don´t have a problem with eating meat, especially in a place like this where it is so practical, and they raise their piggies in nice little pens and they probably lead a quite pleasant life – but for GOD´S SAKE. It took the mothe fucker TEN MINUTES to die. I thought it was dead for a while, but it must have just passed out from the pain, because it quickly came back to life and started SCREAMING again. Eventually it did die though and the rest of the evening we were reminded of the event through the smell of burning hair which wafted its way up to the kitchen where we sat.

Now, I know what you are all wondering – has Chloe made out with any Ecuadorians yet? At the answer is, well no. It certainly would be a fun way to learn the language though. The workers all flirt with me a lot, but it´s totally harmless. This is this one guy named Wilson who I´m pretty sure wants a piece, and he´s kind of cute, but he´s also eighteen. I know you guys all know how much I like the young pups, but EIGHTEEN is a little young, even for me. I do have a crush on this other guy who works there, Edison, who is also younger than me, but not as much. I think he is afraid of women though so I basically just smile at him from afar. We will see what happens at the party tonight though. Eheh.

Sometimes I find it hard to believe where I am. These moments especially hit me when I´m bouncing around in the back of a pick up truck, through the pouring rain, surrounded by rough looking men with machetes, or when I see a toucan fly by out the window of my outdoor shower. Then at other moments, everything seems completely normal. Either way, after a month here I hope that my Spanish will be significantly better, and I think it will be, and I hope to be at least ten pounds lighter, which I very well might be.