Is Ketchup Supposed to Be Red or Dark Pink?

The percentage of Spanish I understood this week—77% (The improvement this week doesn’t necessarily correlate to my ability to understand, but rather to integrating another way that might be equally important to being understood. This is a whole conversation said by WhatsApp stickers.

People were telling me the importance, and I didn’t care. I was a bit overwhelmed on a few other life fronts to comprehend, and to my knowledge, every time I got a WhatsApp sticker sent to me, I’d try and craft a message that would be able to reply to a sticker. It was tricky, and oftentimes the momentum of text message conversations would peter out, given my over-analysis.

The WhatsApp sticker applies to friendships, coworkers, and even my host family. I was thinking words were a better indicator, when in reality, my people wanted a sticker of a dog wrapped up in a blanket, hitting a pan with a kitchen spoon to indicate I was excited for the day.

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After I almost blew up my host family’s kitchen two blogs ago, I took a short break from cooking. But the family can’t resist a gringo in the kitchen, and I’ve been back in the lab, cheffing it up on the regular.

That said, I’ve noticed how stupidly easy it is to accidentally turn on the gas to the oven, thinking it’s one of the burners above. The first time it happened since 4/18, the knob practically smiled at me—knowing how easy it is to make that mistake.

At this point, my brain is fully programmed to be anti-kitchen explosion.
But it also got me thinking:

What else is harder to do in Ecuador than it is in the States?
(At least in the small, everyday ways.)

Buying ingredients for complex dishes

This might be a small town in the Amazon adjacent problem, but it could also be my terrible attention to detail, coupled with drinking too much water. I’ll give you an example. Last week, I was cooking some Shrimp Tacos, and the recipe called for some Cumin, Onion powder, garlic powder, and chili powder.

We’ve got dozens of small bodegas around me and a few comprehensive markets selling a wide variety of goods, but I went to the store five more times during the process of making the shrimp tacos in question. Each of them has a wall of spices, but they aren’t labeled, so I’m doing the smell test on them, rethinking whether I know what Cumin smells like, and at the same time doing the pee dance since I’ve been debating the smell and look for 40 minutes.

So obviously I end up buying the random bag of brown cumin-looking substance, trying to run home before I pee myself, and put the cumin on the deveined shrimp, and it ends up being aji powder. A bit spicier than your average shrimp tacos isn’t necessarily bad, but it’s a different objective.

Doing Laundry

This one could just be a result of some high-caliber ADHD and poor time management skills that translate off the court. The only step that’s different than in the United States is the fact that there’s no dryer and only hang dry. (Posh corps?) In some ways, I enjoy the process here more than laundry in the United States since the process feels more intentional, but sometimes I do my laundry and I’m in a bit of a rush to school and take all of my clothes off the line to wear one of my 4 polos that are a bit damp.

To give myself credit, there are times when it doesn’t stop raining or stays humid for days at a time, making air-drying clothes a battle in itself. Of course, I've received a lecture or two from my host mom about my clothes still being mojados, but me being me, I'm a results-kinda guy and often unable to smell reason until I open the drawer the next day to stinky socks. I'm improving weekly, though, and have learned to align my laundry schedule with the phase of the moon and the second howl of a nearby street dog.

Programa at school

Programa sounds official—like something bureaucratic or curriculum-based. In reality, it's more like: “There will be no classes today because we’re crowning a Queen and possibly staging a bake-off.” And somehow, that’s exactly what happened.

Our last programa was for the school’s 45th anniversary. One event? Nah. Try a week off from classes filled with:

Science fairs

Four separate events for the coronation of the class queen

A beauty pageant

Poetry readings

A bake-off

Impassioned speeches from friends and staff, advocating for the three Queen candidates like it were a political rally

And I’ve got to say—I like programa. It gives teachers a break, students a stage, and makes the school feel like more than just a place with desks and bells. It feels alive. A whole community packed into one big tent,

But the catch? You rarely know it’s coming.

Take last week: I walked into school in a polo and khakis, thinking it was a normal day. Nope. It was Día del Deporte, a full programa honoring the school’s athletes with Olympic-style events.

Suddenly, a group of students asked me to join the long-distance running race. No pre-stretch. No warning. No backing out. And so I did what any rational adult in a sweaty-ass polo and khakis would do: I hauled ass.

Was it dignified? No. Did they cheer? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Also, yes—because that’s programa.

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Thought of the week

Is ketchup supposed to be dark red or dark pink?

Before Ecuador, I would've told you “dark red” in an instant. But now? I’m not so sure.
Because the ketchup here, at least the kind I keep encountering, is dark pink. (Picture below.)

My theory is this:
My host family loves it when I make vodka pasta (I sub in tequila—still hits), and when I make it, I’ve been using fresh tomatoes. No other choice. By the end of the process, the sauce ends up a kind of dark-to-mild pink.

And honestly? I never really thought about it in the States. Maybe I’m just chasing waterfalls. Maybe Heinz is lying to us all.

But it brings me to a bigger question:
Does this matter?

Absolutely not.
But I just got you to read two full paragraphs about the color of ketchup.

Have a blessed week and a wonderful Memorial Day.

Of course, I also want to express that the content of this blog is my opinion and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ecuadorian Government.

Keep on swimming people