The Doyle Engaging Difference Program - Georgetown University

After three months of ethnographic and social sciences coursework, my study abroad program in Ecuador (Quito, the Amazon, the Galápagos) prepared us for a final, month-long independent research project. Through courses like Research Methods & Ethics and Social Sciences Spanish, I learned how to responsibly, respectfully, and appropriately conduct both focused observation and participant observation human subject research. “Participant observation” is a fancier way of communicating “learning about people through doing alongside them”— the basis of immersion. Although the focused observation of the last four weeks felt more structured, I had been engaging with this the whole time. During my almost four months in Ecuador, I lived with four separate host families in four very different cultural, geographical, and economic settings.

As I moved between these places, I was able to observe how these vast differences impacted the practice of Catholicism and other religions, even though, as my ten year old host sister once told me, “The beauty of the Catholic church is that it is the same all across the globe!" While in at least every Mass I have attended between the United States and Ecuador the congregation joins together in celebrating "the one holy catholic [sic] apostolic church," it seems that even within the same country’s borders, the practices differ, even if the values (largely) do not. As I remember the many diverse places I lived, I can recall those memories to a touchpoint of my Church experience there, as the demographics, the decor, the size of the congregation, the musical instruments used, the attendance habits of my host family at the time, and the content of the homily all say something profound about that community.

For my first month, I lived with a host family in Tumbaco, a middle and upper-middle class suburb of Quito, the capital. My family in Tumbaco was devoutly religious, as in the midst of every game of Uno or before a long car ride, at least one person would offer a blessing. We prayed before every meal, went to Mass almost every Sunday, and there was hardly a room in the house without a cross. The church near their house in Tumbaco was modern, large, and welcomed a standing-room-only (and, oftentimes, overflowing outside) congregation for Sunday morning Mass. There were official-looking banners, a large music section, and many altar servers. Due to this crowd, there was also a traffic guard, a concessions stand, and the desire to leave the Mass early so as to avoid getting stuck in the parking lot. Surprisingly for me, my family would routinely leave with a few minutes until the end of the service to “beat the crowd,” showing me about the suburban life in this area. The crowd was big at this church and everything was very well-oiled, yet also I did not ever really see congregants talking outside their family group. To me, this represented a bit of how I felt in Tumbaco: you need to be aware of the patterns around you and be strategic (for me, it manifested that I was not allowed to leave the house alone), you have a very close relationship with extended family but not as much with others, and that life has structure and comfort.

Next, I moved to a new host family in Quito, where our professor warned us that the hustle of city life would mean our families would be much busier, less tight-knit, and less culturally Ecuadorian. My new family was devoutly Catholic, and on my first afternoon, I accompanied them to a memorial service. In this setting, however, I found that anxiety manifested into some religious practice, as I received a daily blessing as I left the door each morning for my safe return. The city can be an overwhelming place, and even with crosses in every room and many locks to get to the door, there is a fear of the unknown. In this family, my host mom and I often attended Mass together, just the two of us, on Saturday nights. My host sisters attended on Mondays at their Catholic school. This service was quite a bit emptier than the overflowing one in Tumbaco, as usually there was just a smattering of couples and families throughout the pews. The music was great and involved unique instruments, while the Mass moved very efficiently and frequently finished within 45 minutes. Although we went at an “off-peak” time, I think this also reflected the less religious nature of Quito.

For a week during my time in Quito, I lived with a large family in Mashpi, a rural agricultural town of 75 families in the cloud forest. My host family there was also devoutly Catholic, as the house was adorned with crosses and other Catholic decorations; however, they could rarely attend Mass due to the 40 minute taxi ride, reflecting the rural reality.

Lastly, I conducted my independent research in the Galápagos Islands, a place where Darwin is deified. I attended Mass on two islands and noticed a lack of attendance, even for a Palm Sunday service wherein congregants had to purchase their own palms. Additionally, this aforementioned service started twenty minutes late, reflecting the cultural phenomenon of “island time.” There, my host family was the opposite of religious – they did not even casually observe Easter. This, too, reflected much of the lifeways of the Galápagos, as cultural institutions did not have a strong presence in daily life.

Throughout my almost four months in Ecuador, I experienced a variety of Catholic settings, with each location revealing something to me about the underlying culture there. How these community gathering spaces form and manifest demonstrates much of local culture, something that I was only able to solidify through the participant observation of a study abroad immersion program and weekly guided discussions.