Su espacio es mi espacio

I have come to realize that, in rural Ecuador, there is no concept of personal space. When you stand in line at the grocery store, the old lady in line behind you pushes up to the point that she's physically touching you. When you sit on the bus, the person behind you will put their hands on your seat and touch your head, or those standing in the isle will lean against your shoulder. People routinely blast their stereos at full volume without regard to the people around them. Yesterday, on the bus, a little boy sang (badly), at full volume, for an hour straight. It was truly horrible, and even with my earphones on I couldn't tune him out. Nobody on the bus said a word, or even made eye contact with his mother. Be proud of me--I held off on the verbal lashing that I really really wanted to give that mother. The only thing that kept me from doing so was the realization that maybe this is normal behavior for them--maybe I'm the weird one? When In Rome and all that.

As people in my family could attest, I'm all about my personal space and I value it highly. It's a daily personal challenge to cope with its loss. I recently moved to a new apartment, and boy did I get quite the welcome. The assault on my senses started immediately: the neighbor blasted his radio, the roosters crowed, and somebody set off fireworks in the park all night, and then the next morning at 7 AM. At 8 AM, my landlord started construction literally next to my building, breaking up concrete with a pick-axe (landlord says he's putting in a Jacuzzi, so I can't complain too much). I got up to get a drink from the kitchen to find 4 people standing not even 10 feet away, all staring at me. I have people staring at me as I'm standing in my own apartment! Awesome. I'm glad I was wearing pants.

My need for privacy is something that is very puzzling to the typical rural Ecuadorian (this is a common problem that PCVs face). Why would someone want to be alone? If they want to be alone, something must be bothering them. Of course, they normally don't realize that I'm different--both culturally, and in the fact that I don't have family here.

The good news--the lack of privacy is a good excuse to not spend too much time at home. On that note, I'm going to amble around town and see what's up. I think I'll bring my pet rooster with me, and my plan is to sing loudly and stare in at some family's kitchen to see what they're cooking, while standing uncomfortably close to them. When In Rome, and all that :).

Update: After walking around town, I came back and offered the main builder some Coke. This is how you break the ice in Ecuador--offer to share food with somebody. We sat down and talked a while and it turns out that all the workers belong to his family and that I had actually met him a long time ago. Now the tension is broken and I don't feel like I'm in a fishbowl anymore. Now I'm sitting outside on my laptop, watching *them* work. Take that! :-)