The Countryside
Trip Start
Aug 29, 2008
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Trip End
May 29, 2009
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Quito, Ecuador,
Ecuador
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Seeing the rural landscape is much like watching a movie, even when it is right in front of your eyes. People live on steep plots of land, maintaining subsistence through crops of root vegetables and tending to a mix of cows, pigs, chickens, donkeys, llamas, alpacas or sheep. Many live in houses that look almost like an extension of the earth: one cannot even see the walls because the grass roof extends from the top of the abode all the way to the soil beneath. The people in this region are primarily of indigenous decent; most wear brilliantly (often neon) colored ponchos to protect from the cold nights, white pants or wool skirt, and the women often sport a darkly shaded fedora, which has developed as a symbol of indigenousness throughout Ecuador.
Once completing our journey through this landscape, we arrived at our "hostel." We were there for only a short amount of time when we were informed that we were staying on an hacienda.
Haciendas are a prominent colonial institution in the history of many countries in Latin America, particularly those in the Andean region. Historically, indigenous peasants worked the farmland of the hacienda, with grueling hours and abusive conditions imposed by the hacendado, the white (creole) or mestizo land-owner. Indigenous peasants, then known as indios or natuales, would be tied to the land by a mix of violence and intimidation, lack of resource and debt bondage, owing money to the hacendado for use of the land (though only the bear minimum) but never earning enough to buy their way off the land and start their own livelihood. Such practices are now illegal but haciendas of this sort existed until the late 20th century throughout the Andes. Though the situation on this particular hacienda was not the same as those prominent throughout history, it was still very evident that it was a colonial institution. This hacienda, looking like a normal farm in the middle of the Andes, was opened up as a hostel to solve the owner's financial troubles. Employees of the hostel were mostly white or mestizo, while those working the farmland where of a distinctly darker skin tone and likely identified as indigenous. What appeared to be several families lived in a small cement house, about the size of my living room at home, working to produce animal products from a variety of fauna (most of those listed above.) To be in the presence of such an institution was an even more opaque example of the colonial legacy to which I have referred.
The next day we proceeded to the last remaining indigenous market. Others throughout Ecuador have been dispersed or over-run with tourists, but the market in Zambagua is attended by mostly rural dwellers from surrounding regions, conducting many exchanges with a combination of cash and barter transactions. Wandering through the many stalls of everything from hand-woven clothing and accessories to reebok and nike shoes (how they obtain their inventory I have no idea) to freshly cooked food to live animals it was clear, as it is everywhere I go here, that I am a foreigner.
Through conversation at the market I found out the following information: live chickens cost about $5 each, live sheep cost $50 each, a large pig might cost $120 and an alpaca or lama would cost $150 - the American dollar is the national currency in Ecuador.
After spending a solid two hours exploring the market, we went to a Volcano by the name of Quilotoa. Quilotoa is an enormous crater in the earth that houses a beautiful lagoon surrounded by a steep mountain panorama. Distinctly one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life. We hiked down to the center in about 1 hour to spend time on the beach of the lagoon. Our group arranged for horses, mules and donkeys to meet us at the bottom to carry us back up. Once we determined it was time to head back to the bus we were greeted by a group of young children, each with an animal at their side, encouraging us to mount their caballo to start the trek up the mountain. Each young person hiked the entire way up, at the pace of the horse upon which we rode, while whipping the steed whenever it slowed down or stopped. Both the horse and the child were clearly exhausted during the trip. I was able to have a conversation with the young boy who was accompanying me. Only 12 years old, he works at the Lagoon whenever there are tourists; making as many as three trips back and forth a day. When he is not doing this, he is painting pictures and selling them in the local craft market. When I asked if he traveled with his family he laughed, "No, just me" he said. Many youth have no choice but to work at such a young age, their family relies on their income to maintain some sort of livelihood. We continued our hike (much more of a hike for him than me) as I taught him various phrases in English, by his request. He was amazingly mature, as I suppose you would have to be to take on such responsibility. Speaking to him did not make me think of the needy third-world child, the image we see in movies and commercials: the helpless sufferer, the passive victim. This boy found active strategies of maintaining a livelihood for himself with energy and ambition, his countenance vastly contrasted said stereotype. However, I knew that he had very little resource to move out of what is likely a labour-intensive and uncomfortable living situation, and for feeling like I was exploiting his position so that I could save my legs the hassle of hiking, I left Quilotoa with a stone of guilt resting in my stomach. But... I also knew that I was providing him with much needed income, which he would not have if I were not using -and paying for - this service. My time in Ecuador is teaching me that one cannot see the world, or anything that occurs upon it, in black and white.
