Adiós Ecuador

After our trip to Baños we spent one last night in Quito. We found a trendy and clean hostal that was a little removed from all of the city madness and with a great view of the house-choked hills of Quito. Memorable was our last snack in the city- giant inflated cheese empanadas and morocho de trigo (a creamy and sweet wheat-based drink). We tried not to stay away from the hostal past dark as Quito is a pretty dodgy place at night and we didn’t want to break our streak of not getting robbed (incredibly we made it all the way through the two months more or less intact- a combination of paranoid cautiousness and luck). I think I will always remember Ecuador for its rural beauty and the many simpatico campesinos we met, not really the sprawling expanse of Quito.

All in all I’m really glad we worked in Ecuador. It was undeniably a huge learning experience and I’ve grown and changed a lot because of it. It’s a strange sensation. I feel a little heavier hearted and internally weathered after seeing all of the hardship and social disarray that permeates this country. It’s hard to stay optimistic at times as you watch beautiful cultures and environments being destroyed by seemingly unstoppable global forces. It is enough to break you spirit and make you feel hopeless. However there is also another side of the story, a promising future led by people who retain their passions for their country and each other, who start grassroots resistance movements in the face of impossible odds. It is all about perspective and optimism, and I am learning both from the inspirational people I meet. I also feel like I have developed a deeper passion for anthropological-type work and am seriously considering pursuing anthropology in grad school. It’s intimidating to break into a whole new field but that seems to be where my heart’s leading me. It’s worth the chance!

4am the next morning we were on a plane from Quito headed back to the family, ceviche, and gray skies of Lima. ¡Nos vemos Peru!

Las Cascadas de Baños, Ecuador

After we finished working in the communities, we were ready to relax a little bit, starting off with a good hot shower. We decided to visit the Uber-touristy city of Baños, a six hour bus ride from Otavalo. We arrived late at night to find our hostal to be very local and a little seedy. They ended up charging us double what we had been told originally, but we really had no choice but to pay. Luckily we were able to move to a much friendlier hostal called ‘Transilvania’ the next day, where we paid less ($7 each per night) for much better accommodations and big tasty breakfasts. The food in the area was also good, with lots of quasi-Mediterranean places and good street sweets. There is also a lot of taffy being made outside of shops, with store owners pulling and slapping the dough on a wooden peg mounted to the wall. The taffy is good while it is being pulled (and there were a ton of free samples!), but after a few minutes it gets really hard.

While in Banos we visited the thermal baths the city is named for. These are essentially crowded, murky swimming pools that are unusually warm. We could barely even get into the water there were so many people, but once we found a corner it was pretty relaxing.

We also went horseback riding up into the mountains outside of the city. The day was really rainy but it was neat to see all of the low clouds moving around us and our horses. We ended up cutting the ride a little short after getting soaked to the bone. It was all worth it just for how good the hot shower felt afterward!

Our final mini-adventure in Baños was to go to take an open colorful bus called a chiva to see all of the waterfalls outside of the city. The mountains are literally leaking with tons of water, and we saw over a dozen big falls in only a few hours. Ecuador is ridiculously rich with natural beauty, and it is overwhelming sometimes just how much cool stuff is in one small place. What is even crazier is that we have grown accustomed to the surroundings, and it takes a dozen waterfalls to remind us just where we are.

Big versus Small: Mining Issues in Intag

The threat of mining is a big problem in Ecuador, and especially in the Intag Region (where we were working). The mineral-rich valleys are sought after by many international corporations looking to profit, without consideration of the social and ecological damages that result. The companies are not subtle about their intentions either, and have been very forceful and even violent and manipulative trying to get under the ground. In Pucara’s neighbor community Junin this fight has been especially nasty. The question of whether or not to sell land (in a very poor place) has caused great social tension; the younger people selling and moving away while others refuse to give in. For the most part the people have chosen not to sell and have united themselves against the mining invasion. The companies are not quick to give up, however, and have used dirty and illegal tactics to intimidate people into moving. In 2007 Canadian Acendant corporation sent Columbian guerilla fighters to Junin to intimidate the people with rifles and tear gas. The attack on the community was caught on video and streamed on the internet, causing international outcry. Acendant was forced to move out of the area to protect its public image (great film Under Rich Earth documents the story). Unfortunately many more similar corporations are still very present and dangerous, waiting for communities to lose their willpower. Even the new, very liberal Ecuadorian government has not made matters better. The oil and mineral corporations pay the government (which technically owns everything under the ground, even if someone else lives on and owns the land) and there is not enough political incentive to stop this exchange. Hopefully grassroots conservation efforts will prevail in the long run and mining will not do more damage in this country that has already been so deeply scarred. The future looks promising for Intag, but they will have to keep fighting for a long time to come.

(image from http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/images/arts/photos/2009/02/24/rogge-underrichearth-spray.jpg)

Pucará

Pucará was the final community we lived in, and it was probably our favorite of the three. It’s located in the Intag Region, a wild intermediate area between the Northern Highlands and Amazon Basin. All of the roads leading there are unpaved and crumbling, making the long bus rides both exciting and a little nauseating. Somehow the drivers manage to navigate their way through the dust and fallen rocks to reach the scattered communities within. Preceding Pucará are the beginnings of the huge and tangled cloud forests, full of colorful wildlife and thousands of different plant species.

Pucará itself is surrounded by dark forested mountains and two rivers. It is raised up on a sort-of plateau overlooking the surrounding valleys. When we first arrived (dusty and tired in the back of a truck) we were blown away by the jungle-y atmosphere. The steamy climate was especially blissful after freezing our butts off in La Chimba. In tank tops and shorts we wandered around the banana trees and sugar cane (quickly changing back into pants after a few painful mosquito attacks).

Our host mom and her kids were also very warm and pleasant. They’re house is in what is referred to as the ‘Eco Pueblo’, a cluster of eight houses built by volunteers for people from the area who were before homeless (very similar to Habitat for Humanity). We later found out that there are some social issues that have sprung up with this new micro-community, and the saying “Pueblo pequeño, infierno grande” (Small town, big hell) definitely applies. Gossip and resentment run high, especially when free houses are being given out. As a result of this Pucará has become somewhat divided between the Eco-pueblo and original community.

It was a little bit of a strange situation with our host family. They usually live in a nearby town called Apuela where the husband works making cinder blocks. Another problem with bringing new people into a (eco) community is that if there is no work they can’t really stay for long. Our host mom only really lived in Pucará when visitors, such as us, came to stay. This meant that she was basically in the house cooking for us most of the day, with not much else to distract her. While the situation was both awkward and a little sad, there wasn’t much we could really do about it. At times her kids came up and stayed with us too, which livened things up a bit.

Our host mom making tortillas

The food in Pucará was also much more diverse and interesting than in the prior community. We got to help with making lots of traditional foods, shelling beans and pinching empanadas. The chicken we ate was very fresh, literally straight from the back shed. I think we probably went through three or four different chickens while we were there, but they all looked pretty much the same while they were alive, so we just pretended they were the same one. The lunches were always massive, causing us to pass out in food-induced comas for an hour or so every afternoon.

Between our napping and working on the guides, we managed to do a fair amount of hiking and biking around the community. A steep hike down the side of the Pucará plateau took us to a mossy riverbank with ancient wood footbridges and icy water. We spent a few hours sitting by the river, dipping our feet and sketching, taking in the surreal surroundings. The hike back up the plateau is very rigorous, and left us dripping and out of breath.

We also rented bikes from a young local guy and biked/ pushed our way to the nearby town of Santa Rosa. We wanted to go interview people at a forest reserve station there and figured we could get some exercise while at it. Little did we know that between the crappy bikes and steep dusty hills we would end up walking our bikes most of the way there and back, roasting in the tropic sun. We tried to hail a truck to pick us up, but they were all full or didn’t see us through the clouds of dust. Somehow we made it back hours later, exhausted and cranky. I don’t think I’ll be making the mistake of randomly renting sports equipment without knowing exactly what I am in for again… I learned my lesson!

Dishing up some pig at the nearby market

La Chimba: Cold, Cows and Potatoes

Cows and the Cayambi Volcano in our backyard

Though I hate to say it, there are just some places in the world where visiting one time is enough. First on that list is Dateland, AZ, and second is La Chima, Ecuador. This community was about as receiving of us as the stoic icy volcano towering over the area might suggest. We arrived with our big backpacks and excited smiles to find wide, empty streets and piercing cold wind. It was about 4 pm, and literally everyone was off in the fields milking cows. The 300 or so people here sustain themselves entirely on dairy farming, as growing crops successfully is difficult at such a high altitude. As a result they are somewhat enslaved by their cows, waking up every day at 4am to go milk and then going out again in the afternoon. There are no weekends or holidays in this profession. There is also no extra energy left for welcoming visitors (I can’t blame them).

We stayed with a sweet but quiet host family with two small kids and a mom named Margot, which by default has become my name here too. For the two weeks we were there we were acknowledged with nods and smiles but little conversation. The kids were a little more outgoing, showing us around a bit. They also had a DVD of a music video they liked to watch over and over again which shocked us the first time we caught them watching it (youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0hAJm5NdQo&feature=related ).

For almost every single meal with our family we ate potato soup or boiled potatoes at our own little table in the corner while the family sat together on stools in the kitchen. While I really can’t complain (food is food) this diet got old and bodily exhausting very quickly. It was not helped much by the frigid weather. The area is very windy and cold, and everyone is bundled up and crouching as they make their way home as fast as they can, where they eat quickly and go to sleep before 8. That lifestyle did not make for easy conversation and completing the guide was a very slow and scattered process.

What it did not provide in human contact La Chimba made up for with its indulgent natural beauty. The community is high up in the Andean Paramo, land where trees are scarce and thick golden grasses and wild flowers thrive. It is overshadowed by the always-snowy and breathtaking Cayambe Volcano, framed by clouds and blue sky. There are also natural thermal springs up in the mountains (heated by the volcano) and a huge misty lake. When we had time we tried to hike and visit these different places, but the cold and wind made the going difficult. We climbed to the top of Churu Loma, a big hill overlooking the valley, and were literally blown over by the strong winds. The views were very beautiful though, and worth the pain.

Video: Getting blown away on Churu Loma

Since leaving La Chimba and thinking more about our time there, I feel like I have developed a unique respect for the people. One of the issues we face going from community to community is worrying about whether our impact there is really positive. There is a gray area entered at times between welcoming visitors/ tourists and subservience by community members, and we have worked hard not to be catagorized as saintly and educated white people. In La Chimba there was no worry about people giving us more than our fair share. We were treated as (paying) family members withou

t extra adornments or changes to their lifestyle. That is nice in retrospect, especially in Ecuador where tourism seems to have morphed many places into mini-Disney lands. La Chimba does not change or inconvenience itself for anyone, and there is something important to be said for that.

A proud and intense older couple we interviewed

Otavalo, Ecuador: Our home away from home

Throughout our traveling from community to community, the touristy little city of Otavalo has been our central hub. When we first got there, before we had spent any time in our host towns, we were very turned off by the place. We wandered around like paranoid tourists (which we were) in our backpacks and hiking boots. We grabbed the first lunch we could find and were always sure we were being ripped off. After a few hours we bussed out to Pijal, glad to leave.

Now, after spending time in the small and sometimes intense communities, Otavalo is our place of refuge. It offers relaxing hostels, hot showers, and the foods we have been homesick for. Upon coming back to it, which we have time and time again, we’ve discovered that there is much more to the city than the bleak side streets we originally found ourselves on. It is a strange but fascinating little town, known for its overflowing markets containing any souvenir you could want from Ecuador. Every Saturday morning busloads of white tourists with flip flops and fat wallets pour into the streets, buying up everything in sight. Their cash has made many in the city rich, something not many indigenous communities can say (in fact, Otavalo is one of the wealthiest indigenous cities in the Americas). It’s saturated with money, but the wealth does not seem to have ‘sunk in’ yet to an infrastructural level. Amidst the crumbling cinderblock buildings are fancy cars driven by young men in Abercrombie and Holister clothes. It is like a snazzy music video land, inspired directly by western culture. While to us this seems a bit cheesy, the lifestyle achieved in Otavalo is sought after by many, including those in the communities we have been working in. Most of the young people there leave as soon as they can to go work and buy suped-up cars. Yet to us the cool thing is to go volunteer in the same places they are abandoning, after growing up in the US.

Despite its strangeness, we’ve grown fond of Otavalo. We like wandering the markets and trying to find something inexpensive and delicious to eat. We’ve spent some great afternoons working on the guides in the sunny TV lounge in the hostal, intermittently playing pool and swinging in hammocks on the roof deck. The best thing about it is just being able to wander as we please, whereas in the communities we are always worrying about not upsetting our host families and planning things with community members. It is just nice to have that pressure off at times, that and the pizza : )

(picture http://farm1.static.flickr.com/73/172584755_6f99d1835c.jpg?v=0<9)

Piggy Season in Pijal!