This morning, I did the 6am wake-up call again, only this time apparently for no reason, as all the buses passed full to the brim, and as soon as I hailed a taxi with a few other students waiting, the bridge apparently became "closed" due to intangiable misery factors that include needlessly waking me up at an ungodly hour in the middle of dreams about cooking, building things, and shopping for twinkies. To hell with the copy center! To hell with class prep!

I wonder if it will get easier to wing it here, as I was starting to do up north. I wonder, I wonder.

I figured I would start describing the house situation.

Well, I live in the neighborhood La FAE. Guayaquil is divided into inumberable such neighborhoods, and if you are sending a letter to Guayaquil, the address includes this title. I imagine it is much like New York with its Queens & Brooklyn, etc. All the taxis know where to go when you give them the neighborhood title. Within La FAE, I am roughly in the center of this small neighborhood that is directly next to the airport, and probably inhales and exhales its fumes. Most of the houses are medium size, but with marble or dirt courtyards wrapped by glass-shard-rimmed fences. Almost all houses have two stories... the one I'm in is two with a terrace on the top that has three additional rooms.

I'm on the base floor with Norma & her husband, Norma's daughter Mariola & her daughter Denise, and Lola, the maid. I almost never see Norma's husband, Mariola (who I've been told works two jobs & is attending school for tourism), or Denise, and spend most of my time with Lola, who is very clearly one of the poorer indigenos of the area. She is short and quiet, hard for me to figure out, but not particularly wise. The lack of wisdom is demonstrated by the fact that she stares at me in the morning at 6:30 am when I am tired, trying to drink my coffee and force myself to eat something before my stomach has arisen. I used to think I was a friendly morning person, but I find myself craving solitude at this hour more than any other. Nevertheless, Lola seems to be a sweet person with a high curiousity about the machinations of foriegner's lives. I sometime get the sensation that I am completely opaque to Lola, just as she is to me.

Norma is the one who spends time talking to me in spanish and letting me know what it going on in the world and such. She is medium height and appears to me to be at least partially black, although Tom, one of the other boarders, tells me that she is racist against blacks. Oddness. Aside from Mariola, Norma has also birthed Max, Marlo, and Mario. I find myself chuckling at odd hours with MMMM-MMMMM-MMMM being the sound of my amusement (perhaps more like a snicker). Max lives with his young girlfriend, Shavira, upstairs. I think, although I might be incorrect, that I was told Shavira is pregnant, but she is not showing and Lola seems to have a low round belly, I'm thinking my spanish might have backfired. I figure a few months will let me know anyways. I truly like Shavira, though. She has traveled to Germany, and seems to understand the need for much articulated conversation to practice langauage and feel like there is some form of interaction in this world. She is, however, a busy girl, and so I rarely see her. Max, her husband, seems convivial enough, although I've been told he gets randy and forceful whenever he's tossed. Who knows? Mario I've only met in passing and Marlo, never.

Also at the house is Big Tom, another boarder, who initially hails from Illinois somewhere, and who has taught law at the same University as me (UEES) for the past few years. Despite the years he has racked up, he still speaks very, very little spanish, and totes an ugly accent. He alternates between pissing me off, and being one of my only stolid acquaintances, dialoguers, and friends around the spot. I think Tom's neglect of the spanish language might point to the characteristics that might generate the frustration I have with him in matters beyond simply language. But I respect him more and more as I come to get around the walls he sticks up around him... he is an interesting and intelligent fellow.

Upstairs on the terrace, Tomas and some on-again boarders, live in the three little cute rooms. One of these rooms is empty, and I would ask for it, if it weren't for the shared outdoor bathroom with the other upstairs boarders. Tomas has been putting the moves on me, in a "gentleman" fashion as he told me, despite the fact that I am a foot taller, two decades younger, and quite different from him! I think he is a nice man, albeit lonely, and I am trying to get myself into a position where we can chat without my discomfort.

Anyhow, my bus should be coming before too long and so I'm going to cut out now.