Category Archives: Quechua

Not All Volcanoes are Geologic

Cotopaxi from Quito

Cotopaxi from Quito

Ecuador endured 2 very different eruptions on the same day this past month. The first was geologic and the second was societal. And both left scars.

On August 14th the world learned that Cotopaxi, 30 miles south of Quito, had erupted once again. One of the tallest, most picturesque, and one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world, it is readily visible from here in the capital on clear days. After months of ground swells along the flanks and mild tremblors from within the crater, the volcano sent an ash cloud skyward that inflamed our eyes.

Cotopaxi is an important spiritual center for many people in Ecuador. The Quechua, who inhabit the Andes not only in Ecuador but also the other countries making up the spine of South America, regard the mountain as the “Sender of Rain.” Until it became a national park with attendant admission fees, the volcano was the site of regular pilgrimages. Now, though not visited by large numbers of Quechua as before, it is still regarded as sacred. So when it did erupt, they were listening.

But the volcano was not the only disturbance in the country that day. Here in Quito indigenous people met barricades and tear gas. This second eruption though did not register on the Richter Scale, nor did it capture the attention of many beyond Ecuador’s borders. Yet this eruption was felt around the country and even as it is repressed here in Quito it continues in other towns and cities in all parts of Ecuador.    

Both of these tectonic disturbances, Cotopaxi and the people’s riots, elicited immediate and far-reaching actions from Rafael Correa, the President of Ecuador. And he has used Cotopaxi as a reason to declare a state of emergency with a clampdown on the media “to discourage false rumors.”

One month earlier, during mid-July and in the southern province of Zamora Chinchipe, a small but swelling group of indigenous collectives began their long march north. Their plans were to join other indigenous groups from south and central Ecuador and meet in Cuenca, long a center of anti-Correa sentiment. Their ultimate goal was to reach Quito on August 13th and present the government with ultimatums from his voting base.

The president’s rise to power and his subsequent re-election were both due to a large extent from strong backing by the indigenous segment of the population. Historically, once he entered politics he had capitalized on the country’s endemic marginalization of the indigenous way of life. While more than 70% of the country’s population is of mestizo heritage, the old ways had always been seen as 2nd class and therefore unfit for the modern world.

Correa defied this old-guard attitude and argued successfully for the inclusion of traditional beliefs and even changed the constitution to reflect a new reverence for nature and those who are guided by it. His courts allowed Pachamama (mother earth) to bring suit against environmental violators and he gained a great deal of world-wide approval for such enlightened regard for this view of the country and by extension, the planet. Sadly, this enlightenment was not to last.

Declaring that it was foolish for a pauper to be sitting on a bag of gold, Correa, in his second term in office, began instituting changes in policy that are now viewed as inimical to Pachamama. The biggest of these changes involved treaties he has made for extractive rights given to the Chinese. New mineral rights contracts allowing for gold and other precious metals mining on indigenous lands now threaten the existence of the lives and lifestyles of the very people who elected him. They are not happy.

https://youtu.be/exdhIw4KpPY

The above video was recorded by John Caselli, the director of SAEX/Quito. John’s an ex-Marine who served (combat) in Viet Nam and never ran from a fight. Thanks for the permission to use it, John.

But since the Cotopaxi eruption allowed Correa to declare a national emergency with the subsequent media clampdown (already one of the most repressive in South America), Pachamama has worked in his favor. At this point he is safely in office and his party holds an overwhelming majority in congress. It is widely believed that this formula will allow a change in the constitution, removing term limits and setting up a move to see him re-elected as often as he likes. The vote on revising term limits comes up early in 2016.

In 2 days I fly to the Galapagos Islands, where I’ll be schmoozing with the sealions, the tortoises, the iguanas, and laughing at the blue-footed boobies. I’ll be there for 15 days, arranging day-trips out from the capital, Puerto Ayora. After that I return to Quito, pack my bags and say good-bye to Ecuador by flying to Lima, Perú, my new home. I picked a fine time for leaving, Lucille.

Lima Interlude During the Multiple Inti-Raymi’s of Imbabura Province

Preface: I had written this piece at the beginning of the month (June 4th) and then after I returned to Quito a number of events crowded out the time to post it in it’s rightful order. Now I’m thinking that rather than trash it, I’ll wedge it into the Otavalo/Inti-Raymi postings and disrupt them too. Since I’ve left my comfort cocoon I see that each day is bringing me nonstop experiences. Until now I had been collecting and perfecting them for larger posts, but that presents its own problems.

With so much daily input I could end up waiting forever for the perfect wrap. A wrap that really, will never come. So rather than try to bring organization, a totally foreign concept in my life, I will henceforth spew shorter but more frequent postings. Let’s see how this works for me. For you, fractionally more e-mail. At least for those who “Follow” and therefore receive notifications.

Cement, Sand, and Gravel

I’ve been in Lima now for 2 days and I can find some interesting differences between here and Quito. For one, more people I meet seem to know at least some English and are willing to switch languages for my benefit; even when I’d rather continue speaking Spanish. Maybe that’s a hint that my Spanish is worse than I’d like to think. If so, I’ll just refuse the hint and keep on butchering the language.

Perhaps the first thing I noticed is that they seem to know how to pour (AKA “place” in the trades) concrete here. After 20yrs in construction culminating in a general contractor’s license, I do know a thing or 2 about mixing cement, sand, and gravel with a bit of water. Sadly, that doesn’t seem to be the case with Ecuadorian construction.

I’ve already suffered from poor pours by breaking a bone in my foot stepping on broken concrete pieces a few months back. The sidewalks in Quito are deplorable and inexcusable. And I have stood there and watched new pours and lived in Quito enough months to judge the results of those same pours: the crap they place is so badly mixed that it’s decomposing almost as soon as it cures. COME ON FOLKS: concrete mixtures are not a lost art; 3 components plus water, it ain’t that complex!!

Thing is, when I was working in the trades, it was a given that whatever you built, you did so with the expectation that it would last for generations. Nothing was more devastating to a tradesman than to have his (and now, thankfully with gender liberalization, hers too!) work fail. When you built something, by God that construct was going to outlast your grandchildren!

I can’t begin to tell you the feeling of pride I got when I revisited something I built 30 years later and saw it looked as solid as when I put it up back in the late 60’s. You don’t see that as much as I’d expect with so many projects in Ecuador. I’d love to meet an Ecuadorian builder for some in-depth discussions about this. I love the country and its people so very deeply but I cannot fathom its construction practices. By contrast, I truly appreciate the sidewalks I’ve seen in Lima so far.

Yeah, well I never claimed to be normal, anyway. You have your loves, I have mine.

One puzzling issue twixt these 2 Andean countries is economics, and I have no recollections as to whether its micro- or macro-economics that I’m talking about. My college econ courses were too many years ago to remember now which was which. But everything I read and hear says that Peru is a poor country. OK, I get that. Then why are things more expensive here than they are in Ecuador?

It’s a given, at least to everyone who talks to me, that the cost of living is higher in Perú than in Ecuador, but why? Please, all you closet economists out there: I’ll buy you a beer if you can enlighten me. Food costs, taxis, hotels and hostels are noticeably higher and I have no clue how that is related to a country being designated as “poor.” Somebody, help me!

Chicklet Seller, Lima

Chicklet Seller, Lima

Another major difference between the 2 capitals is the climate. With Quito kissing the Equator one might expect it to be far warmer than it is. Not so, amigos. Many’s the time I’ve been bundled up in long-johns, a fleece jacket and wool watch-cap, and still feelin’ the chill. Of course sitting on a valley floor at more than 9,000 feet above the sea, surrounded by 16,000 foot volcanoes does have a mitigating effect.

Quiteños never tire of reminding me that June is the best month for weather in their city. But, except for 2 days next week, I’ll miss being able to verify that claim. By the middle of the month I will have “closed shop” in the capital and moved on. Perhaps Quito really does have great weather then, but I can say that the first 5 months of the year were less than appealing, with changes every 10 minutes, from sun to clouds to rain to cold and back to sun all over again. The city itself is endlessly fascinating, but the climate is not my favorite to be sure.

And yet what I hear about the climate of Lima is also not attractive at first blush. I’m here during the heavy cloud-cover time. It can be downright cool at night and even though my eyes are troubled by bright days (glaucoma), I can leave both my hat and my sunglasses back at the hostel. The clouds never seem to leave and the overcast is very complete and persistent. And when it does get sunny (December to February), it is also hot and humid, which seems like an unpleasant time too. I’ll have to wait and see because the hot season is when I think that I’ll be back for an extended stay.

I discovered my “traveling style” while in Quito. Initially planning to be there for a month, I was seduced by its charms, its noise and chaos, and just simply wandering its streets watching it work. So that month became five. I expect the same will happen here in Lima. During an initial meeting with the SAEX/Lima director, Michael Goldsworthy, I learned that the Club has a number of ways for the newcomer to ease into the capital.

They publish a hard copy guide to services and attractions of interest to travelers and have updated it regularly. As opportunities arise, Michael invites local experts to present talks about the arts and politics of both the city and the country. There is a Spanish language teacher who includes “hands-on Lima” classes that visit markets, examine how to ride public transport (no simple skill with a completely private “system” of buses, renegade taxis, vans, minivans, etc.), and other immersive activities which are so vital when landing in a capital of a new country and culture. I’ll be ready for those field-trips to be sure.

This past Friday evening I attended a Machu Picchu lecture at the Club. The overall theme, delivered by an explorer who has an intimate 40+ year history with the ruins, seemed to be that a great conspiracy exists. This collusion I’m told, wants to keep the “truth” of Machu Picchu from the rest of us through some apparent Indiana Jones machinations. Entertaining to be sure, but I was actually more drawn to the expat characters who made up the bulk of the audience. The youngest seemed to be from early-middle aged (whatever that category is in these changing days) while the oldest seems to have been on intimate terms with Hiram (the “discoverer” of Machu Picchu) Bingham’s youngest son. This Club, the oldest branch of SAEX, demands further investigation. I’ve accepted the assignment.

And I’ve also accepted Michael’s invitation to apply for a room at the club when I do return. Like each of the SAEX branches, Lima has rooms for both short-term and longer stays. It has a kitchen large enough for several travelers at a time, a common area with a large map table and a very large lending library with a separate book exchange.Michael tells me that soon they will also inhabit the downstairs and begin hosting monthly socials like the successful ones held in Quito. This should be in effect before I return.

Truly Sad To Leave Quito, But Justly Ecstatic To Find Otavalo

Inti-Raymi: Coming to a Pueblo Near Me, Otavalo Part I

Mahalo Bar

Mahalo Bar

The weirdest things popping up in the most unexpected places are really why I travel. I don’t quite know why I was surprised to find this establishment, because it was less than 2 blocks away from the local Baha’i meeting place which was also advertised in Quechua. For those who don’t speak any Hawaiian, “Mahalo” means “thank you” in that beautifully rippling Polynesian language. This bar, closed during the day, is on a main street here in Otavalo. Mahalo indeed.

It’s one thing to see the word mahalo in Waikiki, where you see it everywhere including on all the trash cans (of which there are countless, thank you City of Honolulu!). Yet that in itself can be a problem. So many tourists have seen it on the trash cans that many have come to believe that it means trash. So when, for example, a local cashier receives payment tendered and replies “Mahalo,” that Ugliest of Americans takes insult and escalates the misunderstanding further by behaving even more stupidly, thinking that they’ve just been called garbage. Jeez, mahalo nui loa, bubba.

(A piece of advice for those of you who probably don’t even realize that you’re Ugly: take some time to learn a few words before you visit a foreign country. And yes, Hawai’i really is a different country; it’s yet another item that you also might want to study.)

With that rant out of the way I can say that I arrived in Otavalo yesterday. I came to witness Inti-Raymi, the most important Ketchwa (there are nearly a dozen ways to spell this word, so don’t wait for any consistency from me) celebration of the year. Otavalo is the largest indigenous city in Ecuador. And Inti-Raymi pays respect to summer solstice, though please do not ask me how they can tell, being less than 100 miles from the Equator (equal days, equal nights, remember?). But it’s been celebrated for millennia so someone’s been keeping watch.

This morning I greeted sunrise by keeping up my Tai Chi practice here on the roof deck of the Hostal Curiñan (if you visit Otavalo, stay here, period!). Sure, it was sublime: watching the sun behind me lighting up the mountains across the valley, hearing the sheep and goats grazing across the road from the hostal, but it also was a time of revelation: I had made a mistake.

A month previous, having just returned from living with 2 shaman families in Marona Santiago  and having received 2 serious visions via drinking Natem/ayahuasca, I had to start living my truths as revealed. And the second of the visions, the one that told me that my time in Quito was over, led to making this reservation at the hostal. Now the mistake was not staying at the hostal, since it is a piece of heaven in a heavenly place, nor was it in coming to Otavalo for Inti-Raymi, as I’m by now an exposed indigenous junkie. I need to be here, really. It’s not my fault.

No, the mistake was making the reservation for only 10 days. I don’t see how I can apprehend what I’m feeling all around me in such a short period of time. I know many people think that they can tour Europe in 10 days, but there’s no way I’m going to leave here in just a week and a half. The rest of Ecuador will simply have to wait.

Here’s a linear thought in a completely non-linear post: I know that there are more than one or two people who read this blog and who were disturbed by my moral descent through indulging in psychedelia with the Shuar. In my defense, I did mention in an earlier post about the many clinical trials going on in South America with both ayahuasca and DMT. Well, Johns Hopkins, a dreary 2-bit schoolhouse somewhere on the east coast, has also been hitting the hooch, as it were. Try this link on for size an then realize that it’s not all what you’ve been led to believe about those misbegotten 60’s hippies:

Could Psychedelic Drugs Make Smokers Quit?

And while you re-read the article therein linked, pay attention this time to the spirituality reference. Heaven really is where you find it.

Returning, somewhat, to Otavalo I can say that I’ve hated lantana since I first came to Hawai’i in the late 60’s. Back then I joined the Hawai’i Trail and Mountain Club and spent every weekend hiking mountain trails on O’ahu and also among the Outer Islands. Yet so many trails beginning in or near Honolulu were plagued with the wild overgrowth of this decorative little thornbush which raked my ankles and shins, leaving me criss-crossed with bloody scars (wear long pants? in Hawai’i?). Back then I read that it was introduced to the islands from a nursery in Cleveland some time in the 1890’s. Sometime later it somehow escaped someone’s garden. Thanks Cleveland.

I was born 40 miles south of the “Metropolis of the Western Reserve,” the home of the Cavaliers and the returned LeBron James, so it took some time to get over my resentment of Cleveland. Being, as I was, from Akron, we were always 2nd-class to our big brother, the “BigC.” I’m glad that I did get over it though, because I have learned to love the lantana in Ecuador. It’s a decorative bush or even a small tree in many yards in Quito. And here in Otavalo I just returned from the University of Otavalo campus where there is a lantana hedge several blocks long and in full bloom with tiny red and yellow flower clusters. Thanks you jardineros at U of O!

I was following a train of thought here; oh yes: Otavalo. What put the city on the map many years back is that it hosts the largest open-air market in South America (I haven’t personally verified this, but then paid journalists no longer verify either, listening Fox News?, so blame wikipedia). I’ve also heard that the Otavaleños are the most prosperous indigenous group in SA as well.

Now for that piece of info you won’t get an argument from me. With the steroidal 4dr pick-ups cruising town and the casas grandes sprinkled throughout the barrios, it is easily evident that money has been made here and continues to be made. Each Saturday the place is awash with cash-heavy tourists more than willing to trade their dinero for some of the best textiles, weavings, wood carvings, leather goods, “panama hats” (you get the picture) that one can hope to find anywhere. This stuff for sale isn’t junk either, though with some judicious bargaining one can certainly return home with quality artisanal products at far better than store-bought prices. Needless to say, these folks know how to do business. They’re indigenous, truly, but they’re not primitive.

Take for example this hostal. The delightful owners, Don José Miguel and Doña Matilde, along with Don J-M’s brother Joselito (“my brother Earl and my other brother Earl?” you bet!) also drive a monster truck, send a daughter away to college and have this fantastic lodging. (My opinion you can verify, BTW. Check out booking.com if you care to: Hostal Curiñan)

Otavalo

Otavalo

Wait though, that’s not enough for these gentle but focused hosts. Right across the road and uphill a bit they are building a bigger hotel! It will open in 6 months or so and will probably be just as ably run. However, if I return I’ll stick with this smaller version and it’s stunning views.

You might have realized that after 5 months of living in Quito, I’m hyped and on a roll, with thoughts, encounters, and possibilities racing through my little mind. It’s going to take several installments to explain the magic of Otavalo and the surrounding Imbabura Province. Please come back for more and I might infect you too with the wonder that’s all around me. This Sunday night I’ve been invited by my hosts to take part in the Inti-Raymi ritual of midnight cleansing under a 60’ waterfall. Now that’s going to be cool, up here in the mountains.