The Amazon
Trip Start
Aug 29, 2008
1
5
9
Trip End
May 29, 2009
Quito, Ecuador,
Ecuador
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Our first visit was to an animal refuge. We took a look around the area and were introduced to a series of animals that are native to Ecuador, ones that no longer have the agricultural significance they used to as foreign animals such as sheep, pigs and chickens were introduced during the colonization process. Though I felt like a tourist (more on this later), the compound was pretty much that of an ethical zoo, so there was all the excitement of seeing pretty creatures (you may or may not have seen how I get around cute animals) without any guilt surrounding the endorsement of their mistreatment (see pictures).
Next we proceeded to a botanical garden on the edge of Puyo, the provincial capital of Pastaza, quite large for cities in this area. Upon entering a sturdy grass-roofed hut traditional of the Shwar people, an indigenous group living in the northern portion of the Orient, we were greeted by a middle-aged man from California. He had immigrated to Ecuador upon marrying his wife, a Shwar woman, and now works in this garden, giving botanical tours to visitors and selling products there from: such as medicines, lotions, jewelry, bags and more. We split in to two groups: one went with the Californian and one (my group) went with a young Shwar man who also works at this garden. Our tour took us on a path through a portion of rainforest as our guide pointed out plants such as Sangre de Drago, Uña de Gato, and many more, naming its properties and what its uses are. We ended our visit in their "gift shop" as many students purchased skin cream, bracelets, necklaces and general remedies to minor ailments.
The next day we proceeded to the house of a Shwar Shaman (healer). The Shaman considered his home a place of education, his sons his pupils, passing on his knowledge and wisdom of traditional healing practices. Here we were taken on a similar botanical tour as one of his sons pointed out which plants were used to make medicines, which were traditionally used to make poisons (to be put on the tip of a needle and used in a blow gun, for either hunting or for war), and which are used to make allawaska. Allawaska is a sacred substance similar to LSD that sends those who take it on a spiritual journey. A shaman takes it before he makes his diagnosis; it allows him to see into the person's body, revealing what is ailing his patient.
It was amazing to see the knowledge held by those we met and the intimate connection they seemed to maintain with their environment. As they pointed to a plant and listed the ailments that can be cured by extracting its sap, or by boiling its bark, or by masticating its leaves, I was reminded of my little blue pill. On the side it reads DAN 5440. I was prescribed this medicine by an "expert" with whom I have no personal relation, I proceeded to a store that had acquired this medicine, having no personal connection with he who stood "behind the counter" and I proceeded to consume this medicine daily, having no idea what it is made out of, where the ingredients come from, who put these ingredients together...very little at all about what I was putting into my body. I wondered...who has the more strange or shocking concept of medicine and healing?
Our third and last visit took us to a Kichwa speaking community/artisan market a ways out of the town center. Enrique makes sure to bring his guitar on every visit and trip, as we greet our new friends with songs in Kichwa (that which we have learned in class) sometimes also tacking on the Spanish translation. It is an interesting dynamic being a white person from the United States learning an indigenous language of the region. The ugly web of racism has stigmatized speaking Kichwa. Though it has a strong presence throughout the Andes, there are many who know it, but refuse to speak it in public for fear of the severe prejudice they might experience. Enrique, who has taught Kichwa for the "Trent in Ecuador Program" for many years, has told us that he has seen people's minds change about learning Kichwa; that as people see Gringos taking time to learn a language that many white and mestizo Ecuadorians pay little attention to (with notable exceptions) it gives some hope that maybe there is importance in learning this language - a language that is so important to the preservation of culture and indigenous Kichwa identity.
One of the paradox's of this trip is that the longer I stay here the more connection, or longing for connection, I feel for home: Northfield, Minnesota. As I learn more and more about Ecuador, I wonder if I know that much about my own country and my own context. For example, I am learning Kichwa and I cannot say a single word in Dakota. But these are the kind of contradictions that made me want to come here in the first place. With every mental struggle I learn more about myself and more about what I don´t know about myself and where I come from. But also...developing my Spanish will help me connect with a significant population of Minnesotans and Northfielders, opening up new possibilities to answering some of these tough questions.
Upon the completing our songs we continued with introductions. Enrique is a fan of experiential learning and makes sure his students take advantage of opportunities to speak Kichwa... "ñuka Riahl kani, ¿kinkinka?" -My name is Riahl, and yours?- "ñuka estados unidos manta kani" -I am from the United States- "ñuka Sangolquipi kawsani, Kichwata sumak yachanapi Trentpa yachani" -I live in Sangolqui and study Kichwa at the University of Trent. Stuggling, the words awkwardly fell from my mouth. But in the case of the dynamic mentioned above, the cliché "it's the thought that counts" takes on new meaning. Language, as they say, is the backbone of culture. There are things that can be communicated in Kichwa that cannot be communicated in English or Spanish. Learning that language, for me, perhaps opens up a new door of communication and does not assume that people will learn English or Spanish if they want to communicate with me. (This is all a much longer conversation that can be applied in multiple-contexts...so I´ll leave it at that.)
After introductions in a large circle, we started to survey the variety of goods that they made. Braclets, necklaces, keychains and balsa wood carvings, all had been created of materials harvested in their own back yard. We got a chance to converse with those we met and found out random details about their lives and shared random details about our own. We were only there for a few hours when it was time to go. So many amazing people people so little time!
A short group discussion back at our hostel concluded our scheduled course of events, we then had the next two days off from school to do as we please. 10 of us headed to Tena (another large city on the edge of the Amazon) with the intention of rafting through the rainforest. Arriving and finding a hostel, we made plans for our rafting trip, but still had a day to kill. With this day we decided to go caving.
Taking a short bus over to a neighboring town we showed up at what looked like what was once a fancy resort. A large cave with a river running through it fed directly into an enormous swimming pool with two giant water slides leading to it. A restaurant/bar sat on the side and accommodation stood further in the distance. Neither of the slides were working, the bottom of the pool was covered in algae due to the natural water source, and there were only a small handful of locals there, not nearly busy enough to fill the place.
While in Ecuador, I have noticed many similar images, many more extreme than this example. Facilities that were built with dreams of a bustling tourist haven, shut down for lack of business and left perfect for nothing more than perhaps shooting a horror flick - paint peeling from the hot sun, pools full of rain water and algae, and various creatures and insects scurrying about every corner and crevasse.
Once we arrived we stored our things and met our cave guide. Barefoot and in our swimsuits, we climbed (and swam) through the cavern as our guide told us the story of Umalli.
Umalli is a historical figure, a Kichwa rebel who led the fight against the Spanish as colonizers started to reach this part of the Orient. Planning and organizing attacks, he would fight fervently, consistently returning to this cave for hiding. This pattern continued for a long time, until the Spanish caught on to his strategy. Upon this discovery a bloody battle took place within the mouth of the cave. When chances were looking dim, Umalli and his family took refuge deep within the cave, covering themselves in the mud to better camouflage themselves. The Spanish searched the pitch black rock cleavage, and could not see Umalli and his family even when they stood right before them. They only discovered by chance when they used their swords to poke the surrounding area, making contact with his skin he squirmed making enough noise that they knew where he was. Nowadays, Shaman will take allawaska and go into the cave in pitch-blackness; they will see and interact with the spirit of umalli.
I realized the oddity of our presence in a cave that has such sacred importance, and found it odd (though perhaps not surprising) that a construction as such was formed around a natural phenomenon with such historical and spiritual significance. Though, the tour was quite enjoyable. We stopped at a waterfall midway through the cave, taking turns jumping into the water that was a good 16 feet deep. Proceeding to the back of the cave we climbed up rocks covered in slippery mud, making our way to the opening through which the sun shined. We arrived back in the rainforest, barefoot and shirtless and we made our way back to the front side of the resort.
The next day we woke up bright and early for our rafting trip. Taking several pickup trucks, we arrived beside the river, got our equipment and began our extensive safety training before entering the river. Setting off on our journey we encountered some rough level 3 (6 feet in height) waves right at the start. These more turbulent waves were nicely spaced out with long stretches of calm riverway, and even the biggest whitecaps where exciting but not dangerous. It turned out that the only time that we took our safety lessons into consideration was when we were pushed in by the guide that accompanied us in our raft. This happened well over ten times. Sometimes randomly, sometimes in the form of "¿Quieres jugar un juego?" -Want to play a game?- and before we knew it he had flipped the entire raft.
On such trips it is easy to feel like a tourist. One of many foreigners, mostly white, speaking English as we walk in groups or take the bus together. Even on our planned trips we visit communities for such a short time that it is hard to develop any sort of real connection. But there is much to gain still, learning from a variety of experiences. Our tour of the botanical garden, our visit to the artisan community and even our visit to the cave revealed various livelihood strategies that involved turning passion into business. In these cases (excluding perhaps the last as I am unsure of the political process that preceded the construction of the resort) an economic system that is oppressive to the many has been used as a manner of facilitating a cultural exchange, where people come and pay and learn about something that is sacred and deeply culturally important. But the question arises, what is the product being sold? Does their indigenous identity, and the exoticism with which it has been traditionally associated, become the product that is exchanged? A product exchanged within an exploitative system full of middle-men (usually whites or mestizos) who mediate the trade process. But these communities and people are not helpless victims. They pursue livelihood strategies as agents of change, negotiating and consistently resisting an oppressive system while maintaining cultural roots and perhaps building global connections. So what is my place? I will gladly support a community run artisan market, and try to share as much about my culture as I am receiving about theirs. But the broader question still remains in everything I do...how does my identity negotiate every cultural exchange that takes place and what can I do as an ally to contradict and challenge oppressive structures?
