What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared
to what lies within Us
I recently ate guinea pig. It was quite chewy, speaking frankly. And slightly traumatizing as I had a pet guinea pig as a wee one. His name was Haro. He was fluffy and suffered from severe ADD, I believe. And now that I have your (unwavering) attention, I thought I would share some of my experiences from my recent trip to Ecuador with my company, Me to We. Since my profession allows me to play with words for a living, supposedly I can tell stories. Alas, this is my attempt. Hold on to that wavering attention.
The torn soccer ball jumped across the worn field. The fence posts swayed when a breeze caught hold of the makeshift wooden structure. To the right was an army of jutting mountains and rolling hills. To the left were hundreds of curious Ecuadorian students. Beside them was the new school foundation that we had just cemented. And I was out of breath. We—myself and 25 Canadian university students on a Me to We trip—were in the middle of a fierce soccer (football, it is South America) match against the school teachers in a remote Ecuadorian village of 600 families. A faux gold trophy and medals were on the line. It was serious.
Looking around, the view was breathtaking—I mean that quite literally. Being 3,800 meters above sea level, and after chasing a football for five minutes, you’re winded. Coming home, I feel like I could run a 10km marathon, blindfolded with my hands handcuffed behind my back. As the final whistle sounded, our group lined up to receive our medals. (Somehow we walked away victorious, winning 4-3). It was a sobering moment for the group. Not the win, but the opportunity to play football with such a brilliant backdrop in a rural Ecuadorian village, in a community that had never seen foreigners in their tight knit social fabric. We couldn’t even communicate verbally otherwise than, “How many brothers do you have?”, but we shared a universal experience in togetherness.
Most of the university students had extensively traveled. But it was always straight-up tourism. The blanket tourism where you only see what tourists see. Like coming to Toronto and only seeing the CN Tower. You miss out on the true jewels—having a early morning coffee at Café Diplomatico in Little Italy, or perhaps a walk in, say, historic Cabbagetown. How often do you get to partake in a game of football in a remote country with the local villagers, with a school that you are building in the near distance nonetheless? Maybe every other Tuesday for some, but probably not too often. That’s what this trip was for me. That’s what the trip was for the 25 students as well. It was an adventure in perspective. (See: eating guinea pig). A chance to learn about culture by participating in said culture. A chance to set aside my surgically-connected iPhone and take a different viewpoint. A chance to expand my perspective—as all travel should—and take a moment and think, “Yeah, that just happened. And I’m more than grateful for that.” That is just a quick taste (fumbling anecdote)—there’s no way I can do justice to three weeks in Ecuador in 500 words—of my time with these students. But if you're itching to go on a trip, a trip that you have been pondering about for some time, I hope this is inspiration enough. Maybe you will be able to try some exotic foods yourself. --RYAN BOLTON
