On my first day of school in Quito some guy from the U.S. embassy told all the visiting foreign students that there are three phases of any long-term stay in another country. The first phase, the honeymoon phase, consists of loving every single thing about the place your in. The food tastes great, the people are wonderful, and you see all the countries weird little quirks as an example of the beautiful culture. The second phase, “I’m an American phase”, consists of strange craving for Big Macs, a general hatred for any food that you can’t pronounce, and a dislike for anyone other than English speakers. Well my honeymoon phase is definitely over. While I have yet to dream of Ronald (and I probably won’t),  I am definitely going through “western withdrawal”. I want a damn vegetarian plate that consists of something other than damn arroz con frijoles and fruit. I want a warm shower that has some pressure and doesn’t feel like someone’s peeing on my head. I want to understand what my host mom is saying to me. I want my respectful boyfriend. I’m sick of being whistled at on the street like I’m a freaking dog.  I’m sick of Ecuadorian guys who think that there is nothing in the world I would rather do than have their babies and clean their kitchens. I’m sick of machismo culture. I’m sick of these damn elections and having presidential propaganda spill into my window in the middle of the night in the form of “Hips Don’t Lie” remixed as a song for Cynthia, one of the leading candidates.

Other than that, everything is going good. I love my class and I love my school and the fact that it’s right across from the beach and I can go to class in my bathing suit. I love Galapagos at night. It’s the kind of town that you would come to during the day and think-this place does not have any sort of night life. But little do you know, they’re all just home for siesta and come 7:00pm, everything will open again and stay open into the night. The bars stay open till the wee hours of the morning, and the town never sleeps. There is always music. I was walking home at 2:00 last night and there was a concert on the same block as my house. This is a neighborhood. I fell asleep to the music and will never know what time the party actually ended. All this, and in a town of 6,000. I am surely never bored.

The second phase will end, I’m sure, and give way to the third phase; reality. Unlike the honeymoon phase, you see the place for what it really is. But usually, unlike the second phase, you begin to adapt. Adapt to your new world and your new way of life. And when the end comes, you won’t want to leave they tell me. And I suppose of all places that is what the Galapagos is all about; adaptation.