Eye infections, Ukrainians and the Devil

Let´s start with a little lesson on how much everyone should love and appreciate their eyes. If intestinal problems weren´t fun enough, I got one doozey of an eye infection. I woke up one Friday morning a little swollen and itchy in both my eyes. I called the Peace Corps doctor thinking it was pink eye. She gave me some instructions and I wasn’t too worried. By Saturday, the area around my eyes had tripled in size, my eye balls became a lovely maraschino cherry red, and a gooey mass had developed around my pupil. Sunday was even worse, so Monday I called the doctor back. She had me come to the Office in Quito, where she decided I needed to see the eye doctor. Now I´m speeding through this because I have a lot to cover today, but please believe it was the most uncomfortable I have ever been. Ever. So anyway, Tuesday I came back to Quito and saw the doctor. By this time I was wearing sun glasses everywhere, because if I took them off I would hear children start to cry. The doctor told me it was not pink eye, but an epidemic he has seen over the past 6 months. They are still not sure what germ causes it, but thankfully they did know how to treat it. In the office they put a total of 60 drops in my eyes over a span of 15 minutes, and they sent me home with two kinds of antibiotic drops. Almost immediately I felt more comfortable, but it wasn’t until the following Monday that I looked myself again. I stayed most of the week and a half at home. I couldn’t go to work because it´s highly contagious. And any time I left the house, people would stare. Three complete strangers even came up to me and said, ¨You´re eyes are really swollen and red¨. I did not find it amusing, and responded to all of them by saying, ¨Oh my God, really!? I had no idea! Thank you.¨ and walking away. I saw the doctor again last Friday, he said I´m almost 80% cured, but it is still yet to be determined if this infection and the treatment will have caused permanent damage.

This past weekend I went to my first Ecua Wedding. It was the daughter of Maria Dolores´ cousin, to some Ukrainian man. It was a traditional Catholic wedding, so the ceremony lasted….AN HOUR AND A HALF. I felt sort of like a 5 year old squirming in my seat, so I found ways to amuse myself. There was a bird flying around the top of the church, so I watched it for a while. I looked at all the guests and tried to guess their ages. I started counting the floral arrangements, but lost count somewhere in the 50´s because the lady next to me answered her cell phone. It still amazes me how people do that here, and how I am the only one who finds it rude. Anyway the ceremony ended and we headed to the reception. Maria Dolores was working the crowd so I sat with some friends of hers. It was a very elegant wedding, and the guests were all upper class, except for the Ukrainian groom’s family. The food was the only thing keeping me from falling asleep. After a couple of glasses of wine I was feeling a little more social. Then suddenly, the quiet chatter was interrupted by a giant blonde man. He staggered onto the stage and grabbed the microphone with his left hand, (the nearly empty bottle of vodka occupied his right). In a thick Russian accent ¨No hablo Espanish! No hablo English! Hablo RUUUSO.¨ A friend trying to do damage control came running, and proceeded to translate from Russian to Spanish. ¨In the Ukraine, we don’t drink wine or beer (snarling with disgust)…we drink VODKA.¨…¨I would like to congratulate Ecuador on beating Brazil 9 to 0.¨ (After translating the translator corrected him…Ecuador didn´t make it to the World Cup…the crowd wasn’t happy to be reminded). ¨Everyone congratulate the couple and drink VODKA! VIVA Ukrania!¨ Now, in my opinion, this was the best thing to happen to the party. I was laughing hysterically, until I realized everyone else was gawking with disgust at the scene he was making. I tried to control myself for a minute, but when I noticed the bride also found it entertaining, I continued laughing. The man was eventually removed from the stage, and the polite chatter resumed. I decided then and there that I would much rather go to a Ukrainian wedding.

This morning I awoke to an episode of domestic violence next door. I was somewhat startled at the sound of angry male voices and a woman yelling repeatedly, ¨AYYY YAYAY! AYYY YAYAY!¨ At first I thought she was in labor, so I made my way out onto the balcony to have a looksee. There were a lot of people in the driveway, and an older lady in her night gown was pushing one man away from another man with a broom. From what I could understand, a guy had been abusing his wife, so the wife´s brother was trying to kill him. I went down stairs and found Maria Dolores and Evelyn also watching the commotion from the window. Maria Dolores was on the phone trying to call the police for the second time. Here´s the kicker. The man on the phone told her that all of the police men in Ibarra were in ¨Formacion¨. Formation happens every Monday morning when all of the police men get together, stand in lines and get a talk from the boss. Twenty minutes later I was lured back up to the balcony by more yelling. The man who had been beating his wife was trying to get back through the gate, while a man inside was waving a giant kitchen knife out the front door. Then it turned into a lot of crying and apologizing, a little slapping, and then hugging and kissing. In the end, the police NEVER showed up. Apparently the Monday morning pep talk comes before fighting crime and saving lives. And I actually have a theory that they were all watching the soccer game, but who cares, either way they weren’t doing their job. Thankfully no one seemed to be hurt. But I have to admit I feel just a little less safe now. I´ll be watching my back more carefully now on Monday mornings.

Finally, I´ll leave you with a little something to contemplate. What type of culture must Lesley be living in if the biggest news story of the month, (all over the radio, newspaper, and public television) is how a hospital security guard is possessed by the devil. I kid you not, it´s everywhere. Happy Monday!