The topic for this week’s column is speed.

No, not the drug, for as you faithful readers know, I don’t mess with that stuff.

Anyways, it’s been four weeks in Ecuador (holy crap) and things in here have either felt as fast as a metro bus going 70 km/h down Galo Plaza or as slow as a two-hour-long Spanish class. 


First point: time.

If college taught me time management, SST taught me time travel. I’m now convinced it is possible to bend the laws of time. How else could I fit everything I do in one day without hopping into a DeLorean with Doc Brown? (Extra acreditaciones if you got that reference.)



You can never know the odd but satisfying cocktail of fear and joy until you barrel down the main Ecuadorian freeway in a metro bus while Reggaeton music blares on the speakers and the driver jolts the stick shift from one gear to the next. 

Just today, as I sat with my butt and back firmly cradled in the plastic bucket seat due to overwhelming G-forces, I realized I felt both very secure and scared. It was an odd feeling.

But things can be slow as well, which brings me to…



I’ve gone on walks with my host parents on several occasions, one of which ended badly for my forehead (read last week’s column if you don’t get the reference). And boy, do Ecuatorianos take their time walking. Maybe my long legs are to blame like in many situations in my life, but I’ll never be sure until I can gather sufficient data.

But things moving at a slow pace is a nice contrast to the hustle and bustle of Quito. In every other aspect of my life, I seem to be running, so I suppose a slow walk now and then is a nice change of pace (please laugh).

And things are about to slow down realll quick — slow down…quick?

Thanks to a reminder from my service partner-to-be, Leah Kauffman, I realized that in two short weeks we will enter into service, known for its abundance of free time. 

So here’s to cherishing the fast pace while it lasts.