2017-12-19
The Plan Hey everyone my name is Carolina Castillo, and welcome to my blog! The plan was to start blogging before arriving to Ecuador, but of course that didn’t happen. Why? Simple. Wait, no, it’s actually quite complicated… let’s start from the beginning. I had just graduated from Theodore Roosevelt High School, and was not...
Read More2017-12-18
Listen up — I’ve got a confession to make: I call black people my slaves. Quite frequently. Matter of fact, I do it on a daily basis. (Cue: “wow who do you think you are you self-entitled ill-informed privileged war-waging racist have you ever thought of how this could possibly oppress and violate the...
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2017-12-18
Not a day passes in the small, rural village of Colobane where the phrase nohi tamin (Sereer Laala for "the sun is hot") isn't uttered over & over. It is a frequent addition to the extended greetings made throughout the day to neighbors, friends, & family members. Throughout the past 3+ months in Senegal, however,...
Read More2017-12-18
Okay, so I’ve been living in Ecuador for around 3 to 4 months now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that a lot of the times when I talk about my life here, I accidentally end up stereotyping my experience. Here’s what I think the fundamental problem is: When people ask...
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2017-12-17
It’s the age old debate: is this oil-filled eight day holiday spelled Hanukkah or Chanukah? Well, boy do I have some news for you. English isn’t the only language that uses transliteration. After skipping salsa class to take a two and a half hour bus ride to Quito on a Friday afternoon, I...
Read More2017-12-16
Say yes more! Carpe diem! Sometimes you end up on a pleasant walk, sometimes you end up at your nephew’s Baptism (severely underdressed). My host brother Freddy, his wife Andrea, and their bootiful children Nico and Andy 🙂 Laugh. You don’t have to get the joke (and they probably know you don’t get...
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2017-12-14
“Dance is the best therapy” a dance professor confidently announced on the beginning of my first samba class. It startled me. When I thought of dancing, I either thought of monotonous jumping in a club with one fist raised to the ceiling, or of strenuous counting of my steps and stressing out whether I and...
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