Chimbo...

Well, so, I think I met my match...Chimborazo is a huge, really hard climb. I'll cut to the chase first: no summit, not even my nice round number goals of 6000 m or 20,000 ft, but I did get over 5900 m, which was higher than Cotopaxi, so at least it was a new personal record. Why did I turn around when I was so close? Read on...

I booked this trip with the guide who took me up Cotopaxi, a guy named Nico who was a really cool dude and a very strong and experienced mountaineer. It'd been a few days since I had climbed Cotopaxi, so I had kind of fallen out of the swing of things, but yesterday when I met up with Nico as well as his wife and a couple of his friends, I got really pumped on climbing Chimborazo. It's the tallest mountain in Ecuador (top summit is 6310 m), and it's world renowned for being the farthest point from the center of the Earth due to the equatorial bulge.

When we drove into Chimborazo Fauna Reserve, we immediately encountered some wild vicuñas, these deer-like animals that hang out in the park. The mountain itself was mostly clouded in, but we caught glimpses of it as we drove up the highest elevation paved road in Ecuador, which goes up to 4400 m. We then drove into the park to the first refuge at 4800 m, got our gear ready, and hiked for about half an hour up to the second refuge at 5000 m, where we spent last night (highest I've ever slept!).


As with all these climbing trips, we ate an early dinner and were in bed by 7:30 pm. I didn't sleep very well, so getting up at 11:15 pm last night for the climb was a little rough. I ate what I could stomach for breakfast and then set off climbing at 12:30 am with Nico. Walking out the door of the refuge was amazing--the stars were incredibly bright and the Milky Way was a bright white splash across the sky. A night this clear was good for the soul, but turned out to be a disadvantage later on...


At first, I felt really good. We climbed up to 5400 m in two hours, keeping a good pace and feeling strong. We took a rest on a ridge, where we felt the wind kick in for the first time--a very cold, bone-chilling wind, thanks to the lack of clouds. The snow was really good and compact for getting traction with my crampons, but soon after we left the ridge we had to go up a steep icy pebbly rock section and my crampon popped off, so I was basically flailing up this thing for about 20 m. That sucked. And it also took a ton of energy out of me. So I got my crampon back on (with Nico's help) and I started up the main face, which was pretty much just a 600 m 35-40 degree slog (which is about the steepest part of Cotopaxi). At this point, I was already feeling tired, plus the wind was whipping me with an almost 0°F (-15-20°C) chill factor. I made it up to 5850 m and I was like "hey, Nico, I can't feel my fingers" at which point we decided to trade gloves...the only problem was that without being able to feel my fingers, I fumbled and his really expensive Marmot guide glove slid down the mountain into oblivion... So there we were, one glove short, which put us in frostbite danger, plus I was about another $100 in the hole for losing his glove. I was sitting for a little bit as we tried to ask the group behind us where the glove went, and I started shivering like mad, but then kinda calmed down a bit, and we decided to go up just a little higher. So we went past 5900 m, higher than Cotopaxi, but plenty far for my poor freezing self.


At around 5 am, we turned back. We descended nice and slowly and watched the sunrise from the side of the mountain instead of the top of it. It turns out that I wore one pair of socks too many, so my feet sweated in my boots and got super cold, so when I finally got back to the refuge (after searching long and hard for the long lost glove) my big toes were kind of frozen, and still hurt a lot now. Nico's wife and friends got back a while later, having been to the very top summit--I was obviously jealous, but considering how my toes feel right now, I think it was definitely the right move to turn back when i did.

So, all in all, I got higher than I've been but not as high as I wanted. I tried to prepare well based on what I wore on my Cotopaxi climb, but this California boy just couldn't handle the chill of that clear night's Chimborazo wind. That said though, it was sweet just standing on that huge huge mountain, and the views were awesome, and that's the closest I've ever been to the stars! Definitely worth the pain. Thanks for your good vibes, I felt strongest when I was thinking about my friends, I couldn't have gotten as far as I did without you!

De la cumbre del Cotopaxi

On Tuesday morning I climbed to the summit of Cotopaxi again. Here's a panorama shot I took at the summit...it was a perfectly clear day, this was the view that was covered by all those clouds two years ago. The climb was different, too, cause the glacier changes so much, so that was pretty sweet getting to try a new route, but that same sulfur smell was there the whole time...

On the summit of Cotopaxi (5897 m) from left to right (had to split it into three for it to upload, click on the image for a closer look):


Volcán Antisana (5758 m, big and snowy)
Volcán Quilindaña (4788 m, faint in sunrise, I think this is it...)
Guides Marco (blue jacket) and Nicolas (headlamp) with other climbers behind them
Cotopaxi crater (rocky part with active volcanic fumes rising out)
Other climbers in orange jackets
to the right of the guy's head in the background, either Volcán Tungurahua (5023 m), Volcán Altar (5319 m), or Volcán Sangay (5230 m)


More Cotopaxi crater
Volcán Chimborazo (6267 m, follow a line connecting the point where the brown rock ends at the white snowy hill to the small hill to the upper right, then further to the upper right Chimborazo is really faint all the way in background, touching the clouds)
Volcán Carihuairazo (5020 m, small bump at the left edge or Chimborazo)
Friends Eric (green jacket, foreground) and Matt (yellow jacket, background) who I climbed with
Other climber (red jacket) just getting to the summit
Volcanes Iliniza (two peaks right next to each other sur is the snowy one at 5263 m, norte is the pointy one at 5126 m that I climbed on Saturday as an acclimatization run)
Volcán Corazón (4788 m, the smooth hump down the ridge from Iliniza, we wanted to climb this last Thursday but our guide's car couldn't handle the muddy roads)


Volcán Rumiñahui (4712 m, in the foreground)
Volcán Pasochoa (4200 m, on the same plane as Corazón)
Volcanes Pichincha (behind Pasochoa, these are the mountains that are right next to Quito, with Guagua on the left at 4794 m and Rucu on the right at 4627m...I can see Rucu from my bedroom window)
Volcán Cotacachi (4939 m, small little dark peak poking out of the clouds, about 70 miles away from Cotopaxi)
Volcán Imbabura (4609 m, another small little peak poking out of the clouds to the right of Cotacachi)
Volcán Sincholagua (4893 m, snowy mountain in foreground)
Volcán Cayambe (5790 m, big snowy mountain touching the clouds, to the upper right of Sincholagua)

Then wraps around to Antisana again. Plus there's a bunch of other "littler" mountains scattered throughout.

I think I'm gonna go for Chimborazo on Monday morning...I'll let you know how that goes!

¿me extrañaron?

Wow, it's been about two and a half months since I wrote here. I think part of the reason for the lapse is that between then and now, I've been back to the States twice on two-week trips touring medical schools, the first of which I did in mid-October and the other from which I just returned last Sunday. These trips were a busy mishmash of peeking into what the next four years might look like, spending time with family and friends all over the country, and generally having fun traveling around and visiting cities I've never really experienced before. The down side of returning to the States, though, was that it was hard to settle down in Ecuador while I kept anticipating and planning these whirlwind excursions. Many interviewers asked me if I get culture shock, and my answer was that no, I don't really, because the U.S. and Ecuador are both paradigms that I understand how to exist in, and transitioning from one to the other is like going from home to college, it's just a different setting but I feel equally comfortable in both. But the point is, due to the constant retelling of my life story and current experiences during my med school interviews, I felt little need to discuss myself even more in a blog. Maybe I'm in interview withdrawal now, which is why I'm writing. Or, I think I just feel like giving an update.

Being back in Ecuador until late June or July is a great feeling. It's still sad for me to be away from so many dear friends, but my trips back to the States reassured me that they'll all still be around when I get back, and we're all suffering from the same feeling of longing for the days when we were all in the same place. As a result of not worrying about being away so much, I've become more comfortable with the idea that my year here doesn't have to be a big life-changing thing, but instead can be pretty much what I've already identified in this blog: this is a year to take it easy before I start working really hard for the rest of my life, to geek out about health care, and to enjoy this wonderful country as much as possible. These goals no longer feel like an excuse for being here, they now seem good and healthy and have proved quite fulfilling.

Also, the future is a little more certain now, which is a relief. First of all, I'm gonna be a doctor! A few med schools have been kind enough to offer me a spot in their 2009 entering class, so it's now certain that I'll be starting my medical training next year, yay! And then there's my research project here, which has been developing quite nicely and took a big leap forward when I got to meet with Dr. Thomas Bossert, the guy whose paper I referenced in my grant proposal.

And the fun stuff is going well, too. I'm climbing mountains again (I was on top of Ilinizas Norte this morning, 16,800 ft!), and I'm hoping to re-summit Cotopaxi on Tuesday and maybe attempt Chimborazo later in the week. I'm also climbing rocks, thanks to a friend who introduced me to a sweet bouldering gym and to a couple outdoor climbing spots. Just before I left on my most recent trip I got to hang out with my homestay family from my study abroad program, which was so much fun to catch up, and we're probably going to meet up again soon. Also, I think that some visitors from home might actually swing down to my neck of the woods throughout the year, so I've got that to look forward to as well.

So all in all, things are going quite well. This started as a pretty contemplative blog because I was really torn about why I decided to come back here, but I'm finally starting to chill out about it and just enjoy myself. Anyway, I need to rest since I'm in acclimatization mode, but I'll write soon and post some pictures!

esto es duro

Since I wrote that last post, some things have gotten a bit harder here. The main thing that happened was that Luke Rogers, who I sang with in Shades last year, died in a boat accident last weekend. Shades has been a wonderful support network over the last week, but it's hard to be away from them all, because this is such a painful loss of a dear friend.

When I studied abroad here two years ago, one of the main things I learned was the importance of family. I mean, I've always loved my family tremendously, but I used to feel like I could run around and be away endlessly--a modern, transient kind of approach to life. But when I spent months living with Ecuadorian homestay families, experiencing for myself what it's like to live at home into your 20's, always staying local and connected based on family, as opposed to travel or work ambitions, it became really important to me to make sure I was home enough. I began to make a conscious effort to spend time with my family whenever I got the chance, and my brother's wedding at the end of summer was an amazing time to celebrate among those we have known and loved for most of our lives.

It's sort of sad and ironic that I have returned to Ecuador, where I learned that very important lesson, at the expense of being close to the people I love. Shades is a family for me too...as I've told some people, it's not like I'm enamored with a cappella music as an art form (gasp!), it was more that I so enjoyed the time I got to spend with my friends in Shades. So to lose someone like Luke, who we were all so close with, and to be away, back where I learned how to cherish spending time with those I love...it just seems a little backwards. But anyway, here I am, still struggling to figure out what's keeping me here, knowing that this is a challenge that I guess I'll inevitably grow from.

Anyone who's reading this should probably have gotten an email from me with my contact info and my itinerary for my return trip to the US for med school interviews, but if you missed it, here's the itinerary again:

Oct 5-6 - Chicago
Oct 7-9 - NYC
Oct 10 - Ann Arbor
Oct 11-14 - SF
Oct 15-17 - LA/SD
Oct 18 - back to Quito

Let me know if you'll be in the same place as me at any point. I'd love to see you. I miss you and I'm sending some Ecualove back home.

La comodidad de la familiaridad

Ecuador feels really comfortable. It's funny, I feel like this whole time I've been bracing for this big epiphany that "wow, I'm in Ecuador, crazy!" But it hasn't come. I'm not sure why that is, but here are some thoughts.

The most obvious reason is that I already know this place. I'm familiar with the cultural norms, I know how to take buses and not get mugged, and I even know many of the Quechua names for Ecuadorian foods. Plus my Spanish is pretty good, definitely lacking in the vocab department, but sure to improve. So that's one likely explanation, that I'm comfortable here because I've been here before, and rather than feeling that big exciting splash landing in a new and crazy environment, it just sort of feels like a home away from home. Which is nice, I think.

The other is that I've been with gringos a lot, which also means speaking lots of English. I 'm sharing an apartment in central Quito with two other fulbrighters, one of whom is here with his fiance, and while living with fellow gringos is certainly less energy-consuming, it also means spending less time connected to my surroundings, which for me is Ecuador and speaking Spanish. It can be a little tricky to make Ecuadorian friends as a gringo, but thankfully, my housemate Nina has an Ecuadorian boyfriend named Nacho, and we've become good friends since he's around the apartment a lot, so that's nice. Also, I get to spend time with Ecaudorians in Spanish in a couple classes at a nearby public health program (one course on Global Health and another on Health Systems), and I'm doing a lot of reading in Spanish about Ecuador health care systems in preparation for my research project. But all in all, the gringo factor might be part of why it hasn't yet hit me that I'm here, because much of the time it doesn't necessarily feel so much like I'm in Ecuador.

So anyway, given that I feel quite settled and comfortable here, it's actually influenced how I look at my work. In terms of how health care systems work, Ecuador has become a model that functions very differently from that in the US, but through understanding and analyzing those differences, I have been able to put the US system into a kind of global context. My study is very comparative. I'm comparing Quito and Guayaquil's health systems. To understand how they both fit into the national health system, in addition to considering how the new constitution might change things, I'm comparing Ecuador to regional counterparts, like Chile and Colombia. And then on a global scale, I need to consider European, Canadian, and US systems as models of successful and failing approaches to health care. So anyway, the fact that I'm comfortable here in Ecuador has made my work more accessible, but also more relevant for me in the long run, cause it's pushing me to understand a different model in a sociocultural context that I am familiar with.

All in all, things are settling in nicely here, and I'm having fun and enjoying what I'm studying. I guess we'll juts have to wait and see if that "wow!" moment ever comes.

New Beginnings

During my semester abroad in Ecuador, I kept a detailed blog of my travels. I posted pictures, wrote descriptive captions, and tried as best as I could to share my experience with those back home who I knew were reading: my family, my closest friends, and a few others who would occasionally peek in to keep tabs on me. As that blog shows, when I studied abroad in Ecuador, my goals were clear: to seek adventure. I wanted to climb mountains and eat strange foods. I strove to challenge myself by diving into an unknown culture and a foreign language. I sought emotional, intellectual, and cultural growth simply by experiencing, by learning, and by absorbing all that I could. I even tried to give back now and then, either by participating in service activities or simply by talking about what it's like in the US, making my trip to Ecuador a cultural exchange of sorts. But all in all, it was an adventure, one that I enjoyed deeply and will forever remember with great fondness. Some of those memories are recorded in my blog, which is essentially a list of my exciting discoveries during those few months back in the fall of 2006.

As I prepared to return to Ecuador for the next ten months, I struggled to find my motivation for coming back. Yes, I won a prestigious Fulbright grant, ooh la la. But that could never be a true impetus for me to devote myself to such a long period of time so far away from those I know and love. Also, I felt like that impulsive feeling of "I'm just gonna go and see what happens!" would not suffice this time around, because I have already found that sort of adventure in Ecuador. There's no doubt that I will continue to encounter exciting situations, and I still enjoy eating adventurously and climbing mountains, but again, I feel like I need a real reason to be here.

The main difference between my semester abroad and my upcoming year is that this time, I have come with a specific project in mind. Perhaps it's the result of my spending the last two months writing dozens of medical school application essays about my career ambitions, but I think that this year in Ecuador is a time for me to pursue some of the academic topics that I find most interesting. As I have stated repeatedly in those essays, "In college, I conducted independent study projects on bioethics, medical anthropology, and health policy, which introduced me to many ethical, cultural, and social factors in health care." This public health research project will give me the opportunity to engage in these fields firsthand. This work is hard, though. It involves interviews with politicians, health care providers, and hopefully the patients themselves. It will require an analysis of resource allocation and health outcomes, both of which I do not yet know how we will conduct. And it will all be in Ecuador, in Spanish, in a system that I do not fully understand that is meant to provide health care to an extremely diverse and poor population. From what I understand, public health seems to be one of those fields where people work too hard and bureaucracy keeps them from accomplishing as much as they should. (Thankfully, I will have my future-public-interest-lawyer brother and sister-in-law at my side in this noble struggle.) So I'm sure that this work will exhaust me, but at least I know that one of my motivations is academic.

That's about all that I've settled on so far. I do love Ecuador, and I am happy to be back here. The food is wonderful and cheap, the streets are alive with commotion, and people are so kind and hospitable. And I will try to take the advice of some of my friends who tell me to chill out a bit, since this is my last year to relax before I enter the gauntlet of my medical education. But leaving home was one of the harder things I've ever done, because I'm leaving a lot of dear friends and loved ones behind. While I intend to stay as connected as possible with all of you, it was a difficult choice nonetheless. And so I want to be sure to have a reason to be here. One is to pursue my academic interests. Another is to enjoy myself in this place that I love. I'm sure more will sprout up as time moves along. So rather than a list of events, this blog is likely to be a place for me to share my thoughts, my feelings, and my process of figuring out just why I'm here. Don't worry though, I'll be sure to include at least a couple images of me eating the skin off of a guinea pig.

ya llegue

I'm here! Just wanted to let you know that i arrived safely. I'll write more here tomorrow.

Love, Matt