Quito, a Lighting Bolt, and Some Toothbrushes

In 2011 I got the wild idea that I would abandon my present life and move to South America for one year to help people and possibly learn Spanish. So, I put together some plans, consulted my family, friends, and mentors and off I went.

As a sidebar, read " How a recent college graduate paid for the year-long adventure."

I made the trip through a year long teaching program operated by a Harvard University, non-profit affiliate called WorldTeach. At the time, they sent teachers to 17 countries around the world. Of the Spanish speaking countries, I settled on Ecuador. Maps told me that is was the size of my home state Colorado. Pictures showed me the distinct beauty of the mountains, coast, Amazon rainforest, and Galapagos Islands. It all sounded great!

In September 2011, I found myself in Quito, Ecuador at approx. 10,000 feet, surrounded by smog, dangerous food, contaminated water, and a whole lot of people who either wanted too much from me or who were totally indifferent. It wasn't exactly matching up to my research, but I was determined to stick it out. After my first month of orientation in Quito, I moved to Ambato to begin my assignment.

I was in the country to teach English as a second language and as a personal goal: Come up with a good way to help people that basic lack resources. About six months into my teaching, there was a local government shakeup. Nearly all of my bosses got fired and I was suddenly without any sort of stipend. This left me in the situation where I could completely "volunteer teach" to continue the contract or I could leave the school and find alternate uses for my visa. I chose the latter.

I moved from Ambato back to Quito and began putting down some roots. I joined a Spanish school, made some local friends, reconnected with expat colleagues, and continued to develop an idea that hit me like a lightning bolt when I was deep in the Andean countryside.

Ready for the lightning bolt moment...? Flash-back to my second month in Ecuador when I took a trip to the countryside about 2 hours outside of Riobamba (A mountain city that is also home to Mount Chimborazo - The closest point to outer space on Earth). The trip required me to ride three busses, take one private taxi, and then travel ALONE in a chicken-crate truck with locals who didn't speak Spanish or English, but the native Indian language Quichua.

The only channel of communication I had was a bi-lingual, friend of a friend who went between Spanish and Quichua. On the road we were harassed by surly villagers and chased by dogs that seemed to be foaming at the mouth, which gave me real concern because rabies is a big problem in Ecuador. The truck bed was covered in feathers and "goop." Many people hadn't showered or washed their clothes recently. My ten-year old backpack and two-dollar sunglasses attracted a lot of strange stares.

Finally, we arrived at the destination, which was a collection of school buildings that needed to be painted. I had been a painter in college, so I was up to the task. We washed buildings, scraped them and finally painted them! A friend of mine had coordinated the purchase of supplies. It was an amazing exercise in cross-cultural collaboration. One young child spent a full minute poking my arm because I was the first fair-skinned person she had ever seen. Just imagine the commotion, if I had been blonde and blue-eyed.

After painting the schools, I was led into the community kitchen for a "grand feast." I was humbled by the idea. When entering the dining area, I was offered a paint bucket to sit on. I gratefully accepted and then received my single egg with a few grains of salt on top. It was explained that the eggs were from one of the farmers chickens and they were relatively fresh. We all sat around and ate our eggs with full hearts.

During dinner I noticed that many people as young as 22 were missing teeth. The elders were missing almost all of them. This prompted me to ask about their dental hygiene patterns. It was basically summed up by one man "I only brush my teeth when I have a date with a beautiful woman." His wife unceremoniously whacked him, and he flashed that toothless smile. At that instant, I was reminded of a similar situation my friend had recounted about Mexico. People weren't brushing, and they were losing their teeth. This might sound like an obvious connection. The problem is that not everyone takes this as common knowledge. You can imagine the pain, and reduced quality of life that follows. Even eating an egg isn't easy if you don't have teeth.

This was the moment the heavens sent forth a bolt of electricity to jumpstart my neurons and blast me into action. I could people understand the exigency of brushing their teeth!

Snap forward eight months to Quito. I finally executed the program. I collaborated with child psychologists, the Ecuadorian ministry of Economic and Social Inclusion (MEIS), volunteer Ecuadorians, and former teachers. A friend helped me get some toothbrushes donated by Colgate. I further financed the effort with the 2nd place prize money from a photo contest.

The first ever, day of the program was held in a maximum-security prison in a very dangerous part of Quito. I survived the first push and seven years later, the program is going stronger than ever.

To me, it is such a simple thing to brush your teeth. I want to share this knowledge with as many people as possible. Maybe this action can prevent countless hours of pain suffering and improve and extend the lives of our fellows.

Keep an eye out for more blog posts about the program!