Esmeraldas, Ecuador

It's Wednesday, I'm studying for midterms in Juan Valdez Café (basically, South America's Starbucks except much better and much cheaper), and trying to get things together for this summer.

We can start with the weekend though before I dive fully into talking about my internship this summer.

This past weekend was only the second time that I have traveled by myself here in Ecuador.  The first  was on my way to Puerto Lopez for Carnival, on a ten hour bus ride; this trip wasn't nearly as intimidating--it was only six hours and I was familiar with the bus system as well as the terminal.  

The day began kind of rough.  My taxi driver was late, so I missed my first bus at 2 o'clock--meaning I had to take the 3:50 bus almost two hours later. Nonetheless, I was stuck in Terminal Terrestre de Carcelén in Quito for the next two hours.  I sat down with my things on the only open bench I could find and began to wait, when a man sat down on the same bench as me at the opposite end.  A child with a dog on a leash went running past ten minutes later, but the dog had left a nice little trail of a gift, aka dog poop, along the way.  The man next to me glanced over and began condemning the behavior and calling the child a brat; naturally, I giggled because I was thinking the same thing, just thinking it in English.  We began chatting back and forth about where we were from, where we were headed, why we were in Ecuador, etc.  He was very nice and complimented me on my Spanish; he assumed I was from Spain and had learned it there and was surprised when he found out I was from the States.  As it turns out, he was a businessman from Bogotá, Colombia.  WHAT LUCK!  I had just been speaking with my family about the internship offer I had received and had been trying to convince them that Colombia was cheap and safe enough so that I could go.  When I asked him what he was doing in Ecuador, he told me that he was a businessman and traveled to Quito weekly.  He was taking a bus to Ipiales, Colombia (southern portion of Colombia) so that he could catch a plane back into Bogotá.  I asked him what he did and he immediately responded with comercio, meaning trade.  I asked him what his job actually was and he replied with business and trade, once again.  When I asked him what kind of company he worked for and he still didn't give me a straight up answer, I decided maybe I wasn't supposed to know.  Nonetheless, it was a delightful conversation and I even discovered that $1 USD = $2.50 in Colombian pesos.  His "business partner" finally showed up and he was off to Ipiales.  I still had a good hour to kill when another man sat next to me about fifteen minutes later.  Right before he started speaking with me, a kid had wandered up to me who seemed totally harmless...until he tried to snatch my box of contacts from my bag.  Turns out it was a mistake though, he wasn't a hoodlum, just a kid who had wandered away from his mom's sight.  The man next to me decided to speak to me once he saw me swat the kid's hands and snatch my contacts back.  He was Ecuadorean and asked plenty of questions, such as:

1. Why on earth are you in Quito?

2. Why is an American girl like you traveling alone to Esmeraldas?

3. WHERE DID YOU LEARN YOUR SPANISH!?

4. Would you recommend my country to other Americans?

That conversation was short lived though, it was time to go find my bus and take off.  I appreciated him chatting with me though; as polite as the Ecuadoreans are, they typically keep to themselves around me because they assume I don't know Spanish.

I was traveling six hours into Esmeraldas to stay with my friend Maxi Anderson's aunt and uncle.  Maxi's uncle worked in Esmeraldas in the 1980's with the Peace Corps and met her aunt here.  They moved to Washington state for a while, but returned to Esmeraldas about five years ago to retire.  Esmeralda is a province, so when most people talk about Esmeraldas, they are referring to the beaches because it's on the coast.  But not me.  Yes, I stayed in the province, but I stayed in the main city of Esmeraldas within the province.  

Maxi's uncle Robert picked me up from the bus terminal in Esmeraldas; him and Maxi's aunt Carmen welcomed me with open arms into their home for the weekend.  Mrs. Anderson cooked for me once I got there, despite the hour (11 PM) and I downed some Ecuadorean style chicken and rice.  Off to bed I went to start an early morning on Saturday.  Mr. Anderson took me to the fish market, which I absolutely loved because I'm a huge seafood eater.  I bought a pound a half of calamari for $5.  Insane, right?!  And the shrimp (langostinos) were massive.  We went back and waited on Mrs. Anderson to prepare lunch with the fresh seafood.  Meanwhile, I found a pair of swimsuit bottoms that didn't match my top at all that I could wear later on to the beach and got to see a little bit more of Esmeraldas before lunch.  After we finished lunch, we headed out to the museum in Esmeraldas that had the history of the past peoples within it's walls; much of it was surrounded around the large amount of African descendants in Esmeraldas, which was really interesting.  I actually loved the museum.  Later, we headed to Tonsupa to get some sun and swim for about an hour or so.  Tonsupa was a beautiful beach with a plethora of cocadas for sale.  Cocadas are these things about the size of a golf ball made from cooked coconut with sugar and other sweet things in it.  You can get 10 of them for a dollar, so Mr. Anderson and I shared a few.  We got on the bus and headed to Atacames, where we caught a dollar taxi back into Esmeraldas.  That night, we had another delicious meal; after we ate, Mrs. Anderson's sister came by the house.  I was happy to meet another member of Maxi's family, who was just as sweet as everyone else.  She spoke in Spanish to me which was an unusual relief--I've found that I love practicing my Spanish. We got some ice cream from the neighborhood store, and headed to bed early.  I was beat.

Sunday, I slept in and woke up to breakfast from Mrs. Anderson.  After breakfast, we rested a little more before lunch, then ate, and headed to Atacames.  We took a bus from the bus station into Atacames; naturally, there was a small convenience store where I decided to find a diet coke and some oreos to hold me over for the afternoon before we headed out.  While talking to the store clerk about what I intended to buy, someone approached me and quickly asked me a question that I couldn't understand because he spoke so fast.  I asked him to repeat himself and he had asked if I was from "Italia".  No, I'm not...I'm from the States!  Oh, your Spanish is beautiful, I just assumed you were from somewhere with more prominent Spanish!  Who are you here with?  I said, oh my friend in the States has an aunt and uncle who live here so I'm just visiting, but I'm living in Quito.  He said well are you headed to Atacames?  I said yeah, I've never been!  He said who are you going with?  Once I pointed to Maxi's uncle who was waiting on me by the bus, he said oh, okay, have a good time!  I guess he got the hint that I wasn't alone and scurried off.  Mr. Anderson and I boarded the bus and headed into Atacames.  I liked the beach, but it was much busier than Tonsupa.  The good news is that I didn't get burnt!  Which is was a welcome surprise.  We returned to the house in one piece, relaxed and happy from the beautiful weather.  I ate dinner, went upstairs and showered, then packed my things and took a night bus around 11:30 back to Quito.  Mr. Anderson went with me to wait on my bus back to Quito, where he told me that my bus would probably be stopped on the way so that the police could check for guns and anything else that could be traded on the black market.  Comforting, right?  But we ended up running into Mrs. Anderson's nephew who was headed back into Guayaquil; Teodoro, about the same age as Mrs. Anderson, was so nice.  I told him my friend Laura and I were planning on staying in Guayaquil for Semana Santa for a night and exploring the city for two days and he invited us to stay with him and his family!  What a relief, because I have heard mixed reviews about the safety quality of Guayaquil.  He got on his bus to Guayaquil and I headed over to my bus headed for Quito.  I said goodbye to Mr. Anderson and thanked him for a beautiful, relaxing weekend and left.

I got back into Quito around 5 AM.  I had fallen asleep on the bus and here, unlike on the airlines full of Americans, they don't wake you up when you finally get there.  I woke up and there were maybe three people still getting off the bus.  I started scrambling to get my things and get off the bus.  Like in Quitumbe, the southern Quito bus terminal, there were taxis waiting right outside of the bus saying "TAXI? TAXI? TAXI?" so one particularly persistent one approached me and I accepted.  We began talking about where I was headed and walking across the street.  We passed about 8 yellow taxis and I began to panic a little, where was his taxi?  Turns out it was a white, unmarked car, but I had already agreed and gotten a picture of his plates in case anything happened so I got in.  He began talking to me like most taxi drivers do.  What're you doing in Quito, where are you from, what do you study, etc.  Then he began asking me about where I was staying, which wasn't weird because that was obviously where he was taking me.  Then he asked if I was staying alone...in a hotel.  I was quick to respond, NO!  No, I'm staying with a host family.  I just talked to my host mom, I told her I'd be home in ten minutes, so she's waiting at the apartment for me.  He kind of laid off after that and I made it home safely, despite the small panic attack I was having on the inside.

A few hours later, my granddad told me that he decided that it would be fine to go to Colombia; I couldn't be more excited!  I will be working for the Smile Education Foundation, a small nonprofit (smilecolombia.org) for the summer in Bogotá, Colombia with my friend Carolina.  Even better?  We will be staying with one of her family friend's in something similar to a home-stay; they will house us, feed us, show us around Colombia, etc, similar to what my host family here in Quito does for me.  

I recommend visiting their website if you all get the chance to learn about their cause at smilecolombia.org.

Also, since I will not be in the States for my 21st, I am asking all of you who had planned on celebrating with me to donate to this awesome cause!

That's all for now, but Semana Santa (Holy Week) aka spring break is coming up; Laura and I will be traveling to Guayaquil for a couple of days then back to Playa Ayampe to see our friends Sandra and Galvan!  So be on the lookout for that.

Until then, wish me luck on my midterms!  

You have two ears, one mouth.  Listen more, talk less.

Baños, Ecuador

I feel like my blog posts are beginning to start repetitively, but if you can find a creative way to start each new blog post, let me know.  This one is kind of late as it is, I went to Baños this past weekend and it was a blast.  It was one of the places I was most looking forward to visiting in Ecuador.

Baños is not made for the light-hearted, nor is it made for those who are not up for an adrenaline rush or some type of adventure.  I say that sincerely and from experience.  I can remember as a little kid, talking to my sister, Caitlin, about bungee jumping.  She was always the one that was like I want to do that some time, and I argued and told her how stupid she was; but oh how the tables have turned.  We'll get to that later though.  We got to Baños Friday afternoon and immediately checked into the hostel and went to lunch.  After enjoying lunch, we returned for a short nap that turned into a nap that lasted for more than two hours.  We got up and slowly got ready, then headed out for dinner and to explore the town.  We went to a nice Italian restaurant and then headed to a bar called Leprechaun bar per recommendation of a German-Ecuadorean man we met in Juan Valdez Cafe (South American Starbucks, too good) the night before back in Quito.  Anyway, Leprechaun was fun.  We met a Swiss girl at the bar named Elin and she was super great, but knew no Spanish, so she hung out with us most of the night.  Leprechaun is famous for their flaming Bob Marley shot, so of course we had to try that.  It was disgusting, so I thought maybe I would get a nice mixed drink to sip on.  Naturally, I ordered Pailon del Diablo because it sounded like something good, which it was, but it was an actual drink that they fix in a shaker, then light on fire, and then pour it into a class and you have to chug it.  Safe to say, I stuck to the mojitos and beer after that.  Clara took me over to the Salsatheque half of the bar, where the dance floor is strictly for salsa dancing.  As you can imagine, I had no idea what I was doing so I just let Clara, mi puertorriqueña teach me.  As she was teaching me, some random Colombian guy took over and it was a ton of fun.  Following the Colombian came an Ecuadorean named Gabriel.  Gabriel spun me around so much that I felt like I was on a ride at the fair, but things started to get a little weird and he started to hit on me, so I walked off to "take a break" aka run away.  After that, things started winding down so we headed back to the hostel for a good night's rest.

We got started the next morning around 8 or so, had breakfast, then headed to Pailon del Diablo to do a little bit of exploring and hiking.  Pailon del Diablo translates to the Cauldron of the Devil and it definitely lived up to it's name; the falls were beautiful, the hike wasn't terrible but there were a large number of steps to climb as well.  It was well worth the hike and it was beautiful at the top, but it was definitely tiring.

After the hike, we had some lunch, found some wifi (hostel had none) and decided we were going to go bungee jumping.  Sarah and I had a beer before we headed back into town to go plunge 150+ feet off of a bridge (it was 400 feet to the water, but the drop was about 150, then another 50 to where the platform was to walk back) strapped to a bungee cord.  We met a guy from Chile on the bus back who promised to show us the jumping point.  He had gone the day before, so when I asked "How was it?" I was pretty surprised to hear the following:

"It was terrible, scary as shit. It's cool but not something I'd ever do again.  It's too high for me."

Oh, okay, thanks for the...kind words...I guess...anyway, he was sweet and helpful, and showed us the bridge.  As excited (and blinded by the excitement) as I was, I have never whipped a $20 bill out so fast in all my life.  The old man working said "En serio, quieres saltar?"  Seriously, YOU want to jump?  

Why yes, old man, I do want to jump.  He immediately began strapping me into my harnesses and psyching me up.  The whole ordeal took maybe 5 minutes to pay and get strapped in and crawl onto the platform.  Now...I stood up on the platform and was doing fine until I realized how high up I was--panic set in.  With many bystanders (everyone in Ecuador stares as it is, so you can imagine how it is when a red headed gringa gets up on a platform to go headfirst off of a bridge...) watching, I started to doubt myself.  Sarah was cheering me on and Clara was ready to snap some pictures, meanwhile I'm wondering if maybe I should run to the bathroom one more time to make sure no accidents happen midair.  I finally decided to just let myself fall and oh my GOSH it was so worth it.  Scary?  Yeah, the jump is obviously the worst part.  Your platform isn't even bouncy like a diving board.  Anyway, it happened and it was the best adrenaline rush I have ever experienced.  Not to mention, I got to mark something else off my bucket list.  Climbing back up the side of the hill afterwards, I was still smiling from ear to ear when I got back up to the bridge.  Suddenly, I hear "RAQUELITA, RAQUELITA!!!"  Guess who?  Remember I told you about Gabriel, the little Ecuadorean guy who taught me how to salsa the night before?  Yeah...yeah, he works on the bridge that I had just taken a dive off of.  He's like REMEMBER ME?!  Of course Gabriel...how could I forget you....lolz.  It took about 45 mins to convince Sarah to actually stand up on the platform before Gabriel finally pushed her, hahaha.  What a way to go down.

We followed that trip up with a trip to la Casa de Arbol where you can pay a dollar to sit on a swing that swings out over "the end of the world".  The pictures didn't turn out well those because of how cloudy it was.  Not fog, clouds.  Here in Ecuador, you are at such a high altitude as is that clouds are just at eye level at all times.  We headed back into town and ate dinner, before heading back to get ready for the night ahead, full of Pilsener and Salsa dancing.  We started at some really weird bar that I don't even know the name of, needless to say it was dead with old people and no dancing.  We headed to the next one, Volcan, where the bartender brought me a drink because I was a red headed gringa, hahaha. Both a blessing and a curse I guess.  We headed downstairs, where some other married old man, with his wife, wanted to teach me to dance.  I figured what was the harm, am I right?  They were fun though! They thought I was funny and we were having fun, but I moved along, continued dancing...that is, dancing my way back to Leprechaun.  The bartenders recognized me from the night before (again, red headed gringa..) and immediately began talking with me.  Suddenly, someone was behind me at the bar trying to get his drink ordered (the bar was starting to fill) and when I turned around to move over, he had on a Texas longhorns shirt!  Rivalries all the way down in Ecuador.  I asked him if he spoke English and he said yeah, he was here from Texas and asked if that's where I went to school.  Would you have expected anything less than "HELL NO, BOOMER!" from me?  Because that's what happened.  Turns out he lives in Quito only half a mile away from me and works for an oil (go figure) company here.  Needless to say, a couple of Southerners bonded over a Budweiser and we're now friends.  I made my way back to the Salsa dance floor with Clara where we were having a blast; suddenly, someone was behind me dancing that I didn't know.  Or so I thought I didn't know...guess who?  Gabriel.  Goodness.  I guess I can admire his perseverance, hahaha.  The night ended an hour or so later and we headed back to get some sleep.  We took a bus back from Baños the next day and that was an interesting ride.  A VERY drunk indigenous woman (11:45 in the morning) got on our bus and was quite the hassle for the passengers and the man working to collect money on the bus; Sarah had the biggest problem with her, but I couldn't help but giggle.  Soon, the bus came to a jolting stop and the lady fell.  The entire bus was giggling--it was a Sunday morning and she was too drunk to stand.  We made it back to Quitumbe in one piece though and she got off long before that, luckily.

I'm so lucky to be having all of these adventures and I hope that you all are enjoying reading about them and watching them through pictures and Facebook and this blog as much as I am enjoying posting about them. 

Until next time, y'all!

People won't behave if they have nothing to lose.

Quito -- Loja -- Vilcabamba -- Cuenca

Quito to Loja to Vilcabamba back to Loja then to Cuenca back to Quito. 

Ten hours to Loja. Forty minutes from Loja to Vilcabamba. Forty minutes back to Loja. Six hours from Loja to Cuenca. Ten hours from Cuenca to Quito.

Kendall and I did all of from Wednesday night to Sunday morning. That's a lot of traveling.  Nonetheless, my heart is so happy to have been able to have the opportunity to do such a thing.  Of course, it's pretty easy when bus tickets are never over $20 and hostels are the same way.  By the way, I'm going to stop being so lazy with my blogs and making them a little more organized.

We left Wednesday night after what seemed like forever to get from the northern half of Quito to Quitumbe, the bus terminal in the south.  We got to the bus and let me tell you, this bus was the nicest bus I have been on in Ecuador by FAR.  Goodness gracious, it was comfortable and I slept and so on. In comparison to the bus I took back from Puerto Lopez, it was practically the magic school bus.  The bus I took back from Puerto Lopez was awful, by the way.  I never told y'all about it, but during the ten hour bus ride, they had a trilogy of Sylvester Stallone movies prepared.  Do you know how violent Sylvester Stallone movies are?  Not to mention a night bus in Ecuador through the middle of nowhere....anywho.  Back to the point.

Kendall and I got into Loja around 7 AM the next morning and hit the ground running.  We got to our hostel, rested for an hour, had breakfast, and prepared for the day.  We walked to "La Puerta de la Ciudad" which is the door to the city.  It was BEAUTIFUL.  Loja itself is beautiful, but very small.  After we wandered around the little mini-museos at the door to the city, we decided to head to Vilcabamba.  This bus ride was less than enjoyable--seemingly long and a lot of people here don't exactly know how to use headphones, including the chiquito who played "El Serrucho" (this literally translates into handsaw, but basically means dry sex) on repeat for the entire forty minute bus ride into Vilcabamba.  But we made it!  We went and had almuerzo, where I enjoyed fried shrimp and rice for a mere $3.  Afterwards, we wandered down and decided it would be cool to ride horses through the Andes.  Which is was, don't get me wrong, the entire two hours was well worth it and it was beautiful, but sore does not even begin to describe the feeling afterwards.  Not to mention, I had a competitive horse who wanted to run and do a little dancing and drop it to the floor, you know.  Needless to say, enjoyable but a once in a lifetime kind of thing.  When we got back into Loja, we decided to go have some fresh smoothies and juice, but the funny thing was that we stumbled onto a large group of Americans.  And I mean some HIPPIE Americans.  Old, young, mostly young with dreads and tattoos and couldn't speak a lick of Spanish--which in itself, is frustrating.  I bought some art from some street vendor that I'm pretty excited to hang in my room once I get back.  Forty minutes later and we were back in Loja; we showered up, rested, and got dinner.  Kendall wanted Mexican so she had that, but afterwards we found a microbrewery named Zarza.  Best part of Zarza?  The owner was a younger guy from Texas who had backpacked around Ecuador and moved here because he loved it; he said he decided to start the brewery because he was tired of drinking Pilsener. Turns out he's from Dallas.  What are the odds?  By the way, the Belgian brew is the smoothest I have ever had.

We went home and immediately went to bed, literally at ten PM we were both knocked out.  A full 11 hours of sleep is healthy though, right?  We had breakfast and hit the bus station.  Not the most comfortable ride to Cuenca, but that's okay. There was an American from southern Virginia on my bus; I was having a cool conversation with her until she mentioned she was a Jehovah's Witness...had to dip out of that one quick.  We got to our hostel and we were immediately in complete awe of what we saw--a view of the "Catedrál Inmaculada" or Immaculate Cathedral.  One of Cuenca's prettiest sights for sure.  We quickly began to wander around the town on the hunt for pizza (who would've thought that I would be craving pizza?) but ended up inside the Black Olive.  I had corvina and it was delicious.  Afterwards, we went and had hot chocolate at the hostel and then prepared to wander around the town for the night. We ended up at Goza cafe and then Monday Blue for a beer or two, then turned in for an early night.  We hit the ground running the next morning and decided to stay in Cuenca just to get lost for the day.  It's a beautiful city with beautiful people and even more beautiful architecture.  We had lunch at the Black Olive again, where I had a filet mignon for 12 bucks.  YEAH A FILET MIGNON. It was delicious. We actually met a couple of Americans inside; annoyed with their constant English and whatnot, I turned around to correct one of them on a Spanish word. Immediately, I felt guilty because I learned that the mom had moved into Cuenca over two years ago, her mother (also at the table) moved there 18 months ago, and the mom has 11 kids!  Four of them are biological, all of the others are adopted. She then offered me a business card in case I ever want to return to Cuenca and need a place to stay. It's funny how the world works sometimes.  After, we wandered some more, got a milkshake, and then back to the hostel.  We got ready and left for dinner where we ate at La Cuchara Magica (the magic spoon) where they do magic tricks for you at dinner. It was alright, but I would've rather returned for some delicious food at the Black Olive.  We wandered into the park in front of the cathedral after dinner and watched a couple of street performers, then headed to Goza for a night cap.  

Needless to say, I loved Cuenca.  The bus ride back was long, but the prettiest bus ride I have ever been on.  It's so cool that with the altitude here, you literally drive through clouds. It's funny because the clouds are eye level and hover over the valley towns below, making it look like a boiling pot.  We got back into Quito, found a taxi (after two taxi drivers tried to over charge us) and were homeward bound just like that.  

Although I am so thankful for the opportunity to travel around Ecuador, my heart is with my university and it's fight to end racism on our campus.  I am so proud to be a Sooner and to see how swiftly action has been taken to right the wrongs that only a handful of students seem to have committed.

That's all for now, good night and good luck to you all.

Travel brings wisdom only to the wise.  It renders the ignorant more ignorant than ever.

This is a controversial post.

I'm warning you in advance, this is going to be a post about racism and a lot of your jaws are probably going to be on the ground by the time I'm finished.

I got back from a beautiful trip to Cuenca, Ecuador today (blogging about it tomorrow) to a couple of the same iMessages, "Have you seen this yet?" almost like a spam message.  Opening up the link to the racist chant from a select few SAE members at OU, my heart didn't so much break as much as I quickly angered.  Disbelief and shock, first of all that anyone would sing a song talking about hanging someone of a different race from a tree, strictly because they were born with a different skin color.

So, I have to share with you guys my side of things and then my opinions.  Two of my best friends that I have made at OU are black.  This doesn't include the black friends I have from high school and so on, but these are the two that influence me to be a better person in general and the two that I hang out with the most.

I met Brandon my sophomore year of college, through a mutual friend.  Brandon is an athlete, but not what everyone stereotypes the football players at OU to be--not at all.  He is studying marketing and has already interned with Nike.  There's no one writing his papers for him, he stays up late to study, AND takes care of business on the field and in the weight room, or wherever else he may have it.  Brandon and I started going to dinner together every Sunday just to get into a routine of staying up to date with each other because we get along so well.  It's nice having a routine, especially when it's almost like having family dinners when you can't actually have a family dinner.

Anyway, now that you know a little bit about Brandon, I'll continue.  I can honestly say I have been to dinner with him and gotten plenty of stares; Brandon is quiet, stays quiet, doesn't cause scenes.  But I know what people are thinking when they look at us, so I always try to politely greet someone if I catch them staring, with a "Hey, what's up?" or something.  Basically, it's polite but it's to let them know that I know what they're doing.  It's just not something I tolerate; I can remember one specific time we went to a late, quick dinner because we both had stuff going on that day, so we picked the classic Cane's.  When we left, there was a group of men who just stopped talking and were staring at us the entire walk to my car.  I politely greeted them (obviously to let them know I knew why they were staring) and it got awkward fast, because they were all stumbling over what to say in response to my "Hey, what's up? How're y'all?".  I try to ignore it, but sometimes I just get really worked up.

I met Lester towards the end of my sophomore year once I found out he was going to be interning at the State Department as well.  I WAS GOING TO HAVE A FRIEND WITH ME IN WASHINGTON DC AND I WOULDN'T BE ALONE!  We quickly chatted and learned that we were both pretty liberal and stuck in a state that...well, quite frankly, we aren't very welcome in.  

Lester was my saving grace in DC.  When I needed someone to talk to or blab to or whenever I just wanted food or lunch at State or to go on a walk at night because I was stressed, there was Lester.  Now, you know what's cool about that?  Since we got to know more about each other in DC than we did in Oklahoma, DC is very liberal and a melting pot for other cultures.  So we didn't get stared at or judged, hardly ever, for hanging out or wandering around or whatever it may be.  

But people back in Oklahoma quickly took notice of my friendships with Lester and Brandon, mainly because they're black.  Yeah, let's not beat around the bush here, it happens.  A white girl with a black boy, she must just be "into" that kind of guy.  I have "jokingly" been asked things like "So, are you a night rider?" Uh, no, they're just friends?  Is that allowed?  "Oh I was just kidding but people are just starting to talk about you, you know?"

Yeah, I know.  It's never been something that has bothered me because I'm self conscious of my friends; I mean, come on, who could be self conscious of two individuals who just GET it?  They know what it's like to work for what you want, they know what their future is going to consist of.  Lester is out there working to be in intel or with the State Department, Brandon is working to go into the NFL & HE HAS A BACK UP PLAN WITH MARKETING.  But one look at them with me and slurs fly.

Nonetheless, I had to address this because it's been on my mind for a while and this OU incident has just brought it to the surface.  

I am proud to be a Sooner.  I have been a Sooner since the tender age of four.  I am proud of the steps my university is taking to punish the SAE chapter, as well as what SAE Nationals is doing.  However, I have noticed that multiple chapters in IFC and Panhellenic have asked their members to "not post anything on social media" because it's "bad for PR" or "we can get in trouble with nationals"!!!  When it comes to something like this though, I refuse to stay quiet because if I don't speak up, who will?  I did not join Panhellenic to be told that my opinions should be kept to myself.  I was taught through my chapter that your opinion matters and our organization builds strong, independent women, so what are we doing telling our members to stay quiet?

Anyways.  Just a little food for thought.  Racism has no room in my life, so for those of you reading this and mumbling horrible things to yourself about how liberal I am and all of that, you can kindly go...yeah, you know.

“I hope that every American, regardless of where he lives, will stop and examine his conscience about this and other related incidents. This nation was founded by men of many nations and backgrounds. It was founded on the principle that all men are created equal, and that the rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”

--JFK