whizbangworld

Ecuador Update 3: North to Latacunga (2.14.07)

Sleep deprivation is getting to be a little rough for some of us. Our schedule has had us going to bed late and getting up early. When we are sleeping, we hear dogs barking in the night through the thin glass windows. Then, last night someone's car alarm went off at midnight and never stopped. It was still going when we checked out this morning.

Fortunately, we woke up to a new sight. The clouds had moved out and the mountain peaks around Riobamba were a spectacular sight that we saw for the first time, especially the volcano Chimborazo, whose snow-capped top rose high above all others.

We left at 7:30 a.m. and drove north two hours to Latacunga. There we dropped off Helena and Paula, two of our interpreters who had been with us the last two days. Our interpreter Ellie remains with us. We drove fifteen minutes more to the town of Pujili to visit the World Vision office there. Cesar, the head of this office, gave us a presentation on their work. We were joined by a new interpreter, Maria Fernanda, who translated the presentation for us and will be with us the rest of the trip. We are also joined by the office staff and about eight girls, ages 15 to 16 who were all sponsored children and now volunteer for World Vision. It was a powerful thing see and hear from those who had been helped now committed to helping others.

After the presentation, Cesar, Fernanda, Anita, who also works for World Vision, and Sophia, a university intern, climbed into the vans with us to head for our next stop, an alpaca and water project in the Salamag Chico community. Each day we go higher! We pass 13,000 feet on the rugged mountain roads there. Just five minutes from the community, while trying to cross a small creek, we bottom out and get stuck. With the aid of some local people and the people in our vans, rocks, dirt and logs were pushed under the tires and the van given some good shoves. Within fifteen minutes or so, we were back on the road.

After a brief visit to those projects, we headed to a school on top of another ridge in the community to see the school lunch program there. When we arrived, the elementary school children were having a hot lunch of chicken, rice, carrots mixed with remolacha (similar to remolade sauce), and Ecudorean tortillas, which are nothing like Mexican tortillas. They are a mixture of cooked potatoes and cheese that are then fried.

After lunch, the kids came out and played soccer with Big Daddy Weave and the new soccer equipment Big Daddy Weave gave to the school. Mike and Jay fiercly protected both goals, while Jeff, Jeremy and Joe were in the middle of a couple dozen kids mixing it up. I t was great fun watching everyone go all out in the big soccer game. That is, until someone kicked the ball out of bounds, which at this school means it went rolling down the side of the mountain. One of the girls, probably about ten years old, went running for it as we watched the ball go down, down, down until it was out of sight. The kids used another ball until sometime later, she returned with that new soccer ball!

It is carnival time here, which means the kids might pull a prank or two. On our way out, one of our guys was sprayed by water and a group of young girls came up behind me and doused me with a big handful of flour, which went all over my back and right into my open camera bag. It took a few minutes to clean that mess up!

We left the school to have lunch with the Guayanma community. More mountain roads until we reached a point the vans could navigate no further. A truck came up from the community to take some the rest of the way while some of us walked the last part.

Whenever I mention a visit to a community, I'm usually talking about anywhere from one to five small concrete block buildings, sometimes with glass in the windows, sometimes not, with concrete floors, and a metal roof. One or more of the buildings is the school, one is a community building and one a gardening building. The people don't live here. They walk from their homes, which are far enough away as to not usually be in sight of the community, and which are either mud brick one room dwellings with thatched roofs or small concrete buildings with tin roofs, or something that's a hybrid of both styles.

The people that come to the community are usually dressed in brightly colored wool and/or alpaca shawls and ponchos, wear the traditional felt hat, and might wear brightly colored beads and woven belts. They are by race usually either indigenous people or mestizo, which is a mix of spanish and black and which is the primary race of Ecuador. They speak Spanish or the native language Quichua (pronounced KEE-choo-ah). There are about fifty to one hundred people present in each of the communities we visit.

We are led to the community building, which is a bit dark on the inside, only lit by the window light. The women cook somewhere out of sight and we are served by men. Plates come out with boiled brown eggs and small boiled purple potatoes and golden yellow potatoes. A seperate plate filled with salt is set on the table for dipping. Then we are served a metal bowl of chicken broth with a piece of boiled chicken - a leg or thigh or some other piece in it. It was delicious. Certainly more familiar tasting than the guinea pig the day before! Unfortunately, some of our crew were not feeling very well at that point. The combination of high altitude, long rough, twisting rides and unfamiliar smells left them feeling poorly.

After lunch, we step outside to be addressed by the president of the community. He speaks first in Spanish, then in Quichua, telling the people the importance of working together, about being united, and about how much they appreciate this special visit by us and how much they appreciate what is being done here. Through our interpreter, we reply with our gratitude, the privilege we consider it to be here, and our commitment to work and pray for their community.
After our goodbyes, there is some discussion among us about whether or not to go to our last stop of the day due to those feeling ill. With a little time spent in fresh air and not in motion, however, the guys that were not feeling well are now thankfully starting to feel better. We decide we can make it.

We arrive in the last town, known as Guangaje. The reception here is bigger and in some ways more unusal than any yet. People surround the vans, reaching in as the door opens to shake our hands even before we can get out. They throw handfuls of tiny yellow flowers our way. A band of four older men - one playing a handmade bass drum, one playing a handmade snare drum and two playing wooden flutes - play loudly to welcome us. As we get out, the people press in close to us, wanting to shake our hands or merely look at us up close.

While waiting for things to get more organized, the digital camera I'm using and its display become a big hit. I would take a picture of a group of kids, then turn the camera around so they could see themselves on the display. They thought that was pretty great. They would shove through, trying to be in a picture to see themselves. Mothers with babies strapped to their backs with shawls pressed in to get pictures of their babies.

We know we're supposed to go into a church and somehow end up in one as part of a flowing mob. It turns out to be the Catholic church and we're supposed to be in the Protestant church across the road. We file out and the crowd follows. The Protestant church is a block building about fifty feet long by twenty feet wide, with the same concrete floor and metal roof as other places we've been. There's nothing in it except some simple benches that line the perimeter and a desk at the front. The people stand or sit on the floor.

The leader of the church says they will have their choir sing for us. Two songs are sung by small children, then two by adults. All of the songs resemble the chants of native Americans, and are sang with passion. Big Daddy Weave then returned the favor by playing two songs for the people there. They were well received as the people clapped along. As we were leaving, Jeff even played his drum with the band of older men as we made our way out.

The whole day has been an amazing experience and we are all pretty exhausted at this point. We head for the location of our stay for the night. The winding roads take us to La Posada de Tigua. It's a former hacienda owned by a sweet, caring couple named Margarita and Marco. It is a 200 hectacre farm that has been in Marco's family for many years. In fact, when Marco's father owned it, it was a 30,000 hectacre farm. In 1965, the government took the land to distribute to the local people and left them these 200 hectacres.

The rooms are hacienda style with bunk beds and two to four people to a room. There is one bathroom inside and one outside for us to share. The hot water in the outsiide bathroom is heated by an alcohol burner that must be lit.

Before dinner, Marco and Margarita ask us to join them for a warm cider type drink to relax and prepare for dinner. We then go to the dining room where Marco and Margarita have prepared and serve us a lovely meal with food grown and produced on this farm. Everything was wonderful. All would agree that we needed this comforting, relaxing moment in the week.
We gathered in the living area after dinner for Big Daddy Weave to serenade Margarita and Marco on this Valentine's day. They were very touched. Exhausted, but more relaxed, we head to bed. Tomorrow is another early start, with our destination the Insinch de Tovares Infantes community for a birthday party for World Vision sponsored children.