Field Notes

Lesson #4: Ranti-Ranti (generosity + reciprocity).

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 16:18:25 -0400

4. Ranti-Ranti (generosity + reciprocity).

In Andean cosmovisión (a spiritual world view), one of the principal elements is ranti-ranti (something like generosity + reciprocity in Kichwa). People who have nothing will give you anything and everything; there is no fear that one will go without, because the assumption is always that anyone would do the same for them. Ranti-ranti is not an “I scratch your back, you scratch mine” mentality. Instead, it implies that what is mine is yours and what is yours is mine, and it extends to the entire family, and often community. Subsequently, the entire idea of property is different and much more communal, especially when we’re talking about the family, and when we say family, we mean the whole familia – aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, cousins’ cousins, and so on until the entire community is in some way or another part of the same family.

Take the common practice of hosting a fiesta as an example. I was asked to be a godmother to a 5-year old girl for her baptism. I’m not Catholic, but that fact didn’t seem to bother anyone there, so I didn’t let it bother me, either. A fiesta – be it for a baptism, a marriage, a confirmation, whatever – is a HUGE party. There are invitations sent to the most honored guests, but the entire community is invited, and you can feel free to bring your friends. There will be multiple animals slaughtered for the event, huge cauldrons of soup and rice prepared, and gallons of chicha (a fermented corn drink). The women will cook quintales (100 pound bags) of potatoes. There is a tent to be rented, a band to be hired, a mass to be paid for, new clothes to be bought, and the list goes on. In short, it is a very expensive undertaking. At first, I was amazed by the fiestas and couldn’t help but wonder, how was one family paying for all of this? And then I learned about the jocha system.

Jocha is a system of contributing to fiestas in a reciprocal fashion. When someone is going to host a fiesta, they make a list of all of the things the will need. They then identify who already “owes” them something, meaning they have already given something to them in the past. The parents of my goddaughter, for example, asked an uncle to give 30 chickens as jocha because they had given 30 chickens for the uncle’s fiesta a few years earlier. They asked an aunt for 2 quintales of rice, because they had given her the same for her fiesta in 2008. And so on down the list. Once the “debtors” are exhausted, you begin to ask other family and/or community members for jocha. In this case, you will be asked to contribute the same at some unknown date in the future. And so, a fiesta is made

At the fiesta after dinner the priostes, or hosts, sit at a table and accept gifts. In the case of the baptism, the parents of the baptized and the godparents – the compadres (coparents) – are the priostes. Each guest came through the receiving line, giving a gift for the baptized girl to her parents and usually a jaba of Pilsener (a dozen one liter bottles of the national beer) to the parents and another to the godparents. Sometimes, rather than a jaba it was a bottle of liquor. Or money. In thanks, we priostes gave a shot of liquor to each guest. As we received the “gifts,” a family member stood behind us making a list recording what each guest gave us. In the future, when we are invited to fiestas we need to repay each guest by gifting the same thing – a jaba or bottle of liquor or money.

This is just one example of how the entire family and community comes together in a spirit of generosity. Similarly, I never entered a home without being offered food, drink, and a bed. I quickly learned that I also never entered a home without a bag of fresh bread, some meat, cheese, or milk to offer to the family. There is an assumption so deeply ingrained in all that any act of generosity will be repaid that sharing and giving become the norm. What would happen if we all gave openly, willingly, and happily, not worrying about whether we would be repaid, but instead trusting that we will get back everything we put out there, one way or another? I dare you to try!

Lesson # 3: Gratitude.

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 12:37:00 -0400

3. Gratitude.

My experience with poverty – living in poverty in a way that was unfathomable to me before it became my reality – was freeing. This is not to romanticize poverty, nor to say that the conditions in which people are living in Ecuador and throughout the world – including in the US – are acceptable. However, for me, realizing what I was living without – and not missing – opened up an entire world of possibilities. The enlightening recognition that all of those things I thought I “needed” were actually completely superfluous left my body and soul lighter, creating space in me to feel a deep gratitude for the things I actually did need, as well as a deep thankfulness for the opportunities and access to all of those luxuries that I didn’t actually need, but nonetheless enjoyed.

I attended more funerals in my two years in Ecuador than in the rest of my 27 years in the US combined. A lot of the funerals were for older people who had passed away due to natural causes. However, there were also many for younger people who had died tragically – motorcycle accidents, car accidents, drownings, infant deaths, etc. This proximity of everyday life to death was new for me, but something that people in the communities where I spent time were conditioned to. The acceptance of – or resignation to – the fact that life can be short manifested itself in many ways.

At times, it seemed to me that the inevitability, and even imminence, of death meant that people acted without fear. Lack of fear and the resultant ability to live fully in the present moment manifested itself in various ways, most positive, but some negative. For example, alcohol consumption during fiestas quite frankly scared me. But most of the time the ability of people I met to enjoy moments so fully without constantly being anxious about the future left me green with envy. So, I tried it: living in the moment. I let loose the future from my mind’s eye and instead focused on the things I could actually control in any given moment. Quite suddenly, my anxiety dissipated and eventually disappeared.

It was easy to find my gratitude every day while I was in Ecuador. It was simple to be in the present moment with no 3G, no cell phone reception, and no chance to call or text my friends every moment alone. I spent a lot of time alone. I had a lot of opportunity with my thoughts. I was also lonely, filling me with a deeper gratitude for my friends and family. I spent a lot of time in the countryside hiking, admiring the natural beauty and feeling a technicolor high-altitude induced joy at being a part of it.

I was worried that I would forget this feeling of gratitude back in the States. I still had hazy memories of panic attacks, anxiety about the future, and a feeling of pressure to meet “peoples’” expectations. However, I am happy to report that I am still grateful. Of course there are moments – sometimes stretching for entire days – in which I think about the future, and it’s stressful, but it’s not debilitating, and it’s not dominating. There are times I feel like I’m living in “Portlandia” (and I’m sure I am not alone!) and I have to unplug for awhile and find the present moment again through meditation in yoga or a walk in the park. But at the end of the day, I am really, really, really, really, ridiculously, grateful.

Lesson # 2: How to slaughter an animal.

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 12:34:00 -0400

2. How to slaughter an animal.

Also known as, try anything and everything. I was a vegetarian for 4 years while in grad school in New York City. For fun, take a moment to peruse menus of restaurants in my stomping grounds in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and you’ll quickly notice that not eating meat is not a problem; there are vegetarian, vegan, paleo, gluten-free, raw, and other options galore. However, things are quite different in Ecuador. In a country where providing food for your family is often a challenge, being able to provide meat is the ultimate demonstration of wealth and hospitality, especially when offering to a guest. As both a researcher and a volunteer with indigenous organizations, people constantly invited me into their homes and offered home-cooked meals. Inevitably, these meals would contain meat, and there’s nothing more rude than refusing food.

My non-meat eating preference had (and continue to have) a lot to do with the environmental impact of factory farming, as well as concerns for animals (if you haven’t yet, please read Eating Animals). So, I was able to rationalize my eating of Ecuadorian chicken feet knowing that they had lived stomping happily through gardens and courtyards, eating natural foods, and being slaughtered humanely. However, after a while I started to feel like I wasn’t pulling my own weight in the family I spent much time with. The women would often prepare fresh and delicious chicken for me while I was sent to chop onions (I couldn’t even peel potatos with a knife) or played with the kids. Eventually, I decided I needed to learn to slaughter a chicken myself if I wanted to eat the poor birds and also to be able to help out. From the chicken slaughter, I moved on to sheep. Then cow. Then alpaca.

It wasn’t very fun. And I certainly didn’t enjoy watching animals die. In fact, I pretty much hated it. However, I did find an appreciation for the way the women utilized every last bit of the animal to feed their families. The meat was always delicious and much more flavorful than anything I had tasted before; I still have no desire to eat our blah American chicken, even the cage free organic stuff you can find at farmers’ markets. But then there were soups made with the tripe (intestines), bones, and other organs. An Ecuadorian specialty is yaguar locro, a potato soup with cooked blood served on the side as a topping. The animal skins would be cleaned and dried and then used to make gaucho pants for the men to wear while horseback riding.

The magical ability to get use out of every molecule also extended to plants. Did you know, for example, that oregano can be used not only as a spice, but also to make tea to cure tummy aches and diarrhea? Or that you can crush eucalyptus leaves and put them directly in your nostrils when you have a cold? Actually, I found that people never assumed that an item could only be used for one task, instead using ingenuity to find new and creative ways to put everyday products to use. What about using plastic bags to floss your teeth? The old adage, “waste not, want not,” took on an entirely new and full meaning. Which leads me to the next thing I learned…

The End of Ecuador: #1

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 18:12:00 -0400

I have been back in the US since the end of September 2012. I wrote some “lessons learned” in Ecuador on my flight home, but I have no idea where I put those notes. I have finally started to miss Ecuador - its beauty, the people, and even some of the food. So I think it’s good, actually, to begin fresh with this reflection on what I learned in Ecuador. There are ten lessons, and I will start here with numero uno.

Go anywhere and everywhere (but never without toilet paper).

People ask me all the time how I ended up living in Ecuador. Like so many things in my life, I hadn’t planned it out ahead of time, but instead I simply followed my path and there I was. But here’s a bit of backstory.

In the summer of 2008 I went on a backpacking trip from Buenos Aires, Argentina to Lima, Peru. I was in search of a dissertation topic and wanted to see if my rusty high school Spanish might be good enough to use in the field. After a few days sipping wine and visiting museums in BA, my friend and I embarked our first South American bus adventure. The quality of bus travel in Latin America varies wildly, but everyone had assured as the the Argentine buses are first rate – comfortable, safe, and reliable. The bus ride to the Argentine – Bolivian border was more than 17 hours. They served food on board, astronaut style cardboard sandwiches that could easily have come from a child’s play kitchenette. “No matter,” we thought, “We’ll eat when we get to La Quiaca.”

After one whole night and one whole day of sitting on the upper level of the double-decker bus watching the morphing Argentine countryside fly by, the bus stopped abruptly at 11pm. Not having the slightest idea what was going on, we copied the other passengers and climbed out of the bus into the cold, thin, altiplano (high plain) night air. There was a bonfire blocking the road – really nothing more than a worn dirt track – up ahead. We understood that the indigenous campesinos (peasants) were protesting, although we were unable to understand what or why. Through a combination of hand gestures and Spanish we understood that we were to collect our backpacks and follow the line of passengers walking around the roadblock toward the town, which was still more than 5km ahead.

That was the longest 5km I have ever traveled. It was unimaginably difficult, hauling my large backpack on my back, having consumed nothing but stale white bread and an orange Fanta in the past 24 hours, and having just gone from sea level to more than 11,000ft above sea level. But it was also beautiful. The sky was wide open, the Milky Way swirling above our heads and lighting out path. And there were the campesinos, their laughter and voices tinkling like delicate instruments in the think air. As if in a dream, the women and men in their traditional dress gathered around the bonfire had green glowing screens in their hands – cell phones. Others passed us, walking toward the road block as we left it behind us, and they too had cell phones in their hands. I could hardly process all that was happening in the moment, my senses overloaded and my mind as if I were drugged from a lack of oxygen: “But I had read there were no indigenous in Argentina? How are there cell phones when there are no roads or any signs of electricity? What are they protesting? Aren’t the women’s ankles cold?”

And so, what could have been a miserable night turned into a near euphoric experience – one that also provoked new ideas and questions that resulted in my dissertation and (hopefully) my career. Oh – and the toilet paper? A 5km walk inevitably will mean at least one “pop-a-squat” stop; keep some TP on you at all times, you never know when the trip will take longer than you expected!

There are no tofu dogs either… :-(

Wed, 04 Jul 2012 08:55:32 -0400

There are no tofu dogs either… :-(

There is no 4th of July in Ecuador

Wed, 04 Jul 2012 08:51:46 -0400

The 4^th of July is just that here in Ecuador, the fourth day of the month of Julio. There are not hotdogs or hamburgers, no corn on the cob, no strawberries or blueberries, no beer, no fireworks, no parades, and not even a single fire-truck (the upstate New York town where my family celebrates the 4^th every year brags upwards of 40 fire trucks every year). It is summer here in Quito, so it’s sunny and hot when one is actually in the sun, but there’s no humidity, no profuse sweating, and no dips in the pool, lake, or river – just a very dry sunburn.

While any holiday away from home is tinged with sadness, for me, the 4^th of July is the worst. Why? Exactly because there is no 4^th of July in Ecuador. So, there are no other distractions, just a whole day to think about what is going on in the hemisphere to the north while longing for the oppressive heat and sweat rivulets and cold microbrews.

This longing might just be a “me” thing, rather than an “expat” thing, because in our family, the 4^th of July is right up there with Thanksgiving. For my entire life, the 4^th had very little to do with independence from Great Britain and everything to do with seeing the whole damn fam, together. Some of my happiest childhood memories are at 4^th of July festivities at my grandparents house in upstate NY: counting the fire trucks, endless hours of swimming in their backyard pool, knocking over the toilet with my cousins while using it as a vantage point to see the fireworks better, that pine tree that was always blocking the view of the fireworks, the “carnival” and the used glasses we won as prizes, and mostly, seeing family members that, over time, have spread out over New England and beyond.

What’s a girl to do? It seems, nothing. Sure, I’m going to cook some hamburgers and maybe buy some beers. Maybe I’ll go to the park and hang out with some other gringas. My grandma said the family would skype with me (yes, my grandma skypes!). But the key element of the 4^th of July – family – cannot be exported, nor bought, nor reinvented.

So, Happy Fourth of July!

Little Girl, Big Fear

Thu, 28 Jun 2012 09:09:58 -0400

I was exhausted, riding home on the bus after a long day at a conference. I had a seat, a lucky thing at 6 pm – the height of Quito’s insane rush hour traffic. The air was heavy and hot; I could have easily slept, only my fear of thieves kept me alert. After a few blocks, a mother and young girl boarded the bus and the daughter took the seat next to me. After a few minutes I became aware that she was staring at me, so I smiled. The smile serving as an invitation, she began to touch my hair. She asked, “why is your hair yellow?” Having been asked this question by who knows how many Ecuadorian children, I simply answered, “I was born this way.” “With all that hair?!” she exclaimed, in a truly Amelia Bedelia fashion. “No, no,” I responded, “when I was a baby there was only a little bit of hair, but it was blonde. And then it grew.”

She thought about this for a moment, then, seemingly satisfied, continued with the interrogation. Where do I live. Where am I from. Do I have children. Am I married. And so we continued through the darkened, traffic filled streets of Quito, chatting and exchanging tidbits of our lives, this nine-year-old girl and I.

However, this endearing little girl with braided pigtails to her waist and wide eyes scared me. That’s right – I was afraid. Not a cold-sweat shaking in my booties kind of fear, but a leery, weary time to put my guard up and be really careful kind of apprehension. Were the girl and her mother actually alone on the bus, or was there a man (or men, or other women) somewhere watching what was happening? Was this little cutie-pie actually just a diversion so that someone could get the chance to snatch my purse (in which was my laptop)? Would someone follow me off the bus to rob me in the street? My brain was split in two – one half of my consciousness making small talk, the other half hyper-alert thinking of all the possible ways in which I could be in danger.

When we were out of Quito’s center and nearing the neighborhood where I live in the northern part of the city, the little girl asked if I would give her my phone number. I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t have a cell phone because I had just received a text-message. Instead, I said I didn’t have any paper to write down my number. Well, she said that was no problem, and to write it on her hand. So, I made up a number and wrote it for her. A few moments later, she decided that the number on her had might smudge, and so she asked her mom for a paper. I had to rewrite the same false number – from memory – on the paper. Sure enough, she closely compared the two to ensure they were the same. It was like giving out a fake number to the creep in the bar that you really never want to call you.

So, we were nearing where I live, and she must have sensed that I was paying closer attention to where the bus was, because she asked me if I was rich. I answered (truthfully) that no, I am not rich. “In fact,” I said, “I don’t have any money. I live here in Ecuador and I work here so I don’t have any money either.” Then she said, “well, can you lend me a tenner?” I’ll pay you back when I call you and you can come to my house.” I said that unfortunately, I didn’t have ten dollars on me, and the bus reached a block from where I normally get off and I jumped off into the street.

I started walking, looking around making sure no one else had gotten off the bus at the same spot. I meandered slowly until the bus was out of sight, then hightailed it to my apartment. I arrived with the most awful feeling, confused, and wondering if I was being overly cautious, untrustworthy, cynical, racist, and who knows what else, or if my trepidation had been the appropriate sentiment. I explained the whole scenario to René, and he assured me that yes I had acted appropriately and that I should have had my guard up. So, I felt mildly better, but then just depressed that this beautiful country can offer such horrible contradictions – a nine-year-old girl, so lively and friendly, that could represent danger and instill fear in the heart of a 28-year-old woman.

Los Ilinizas: January, 2012

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 20:26:14 -0500

Los Ilinizas: January, 2012

Looking for the "Perfect Christmas Gift"? or Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, birthdays, anniversaries, "Because I love you," etc...

Sun, 20 Nov 2011 18:57:00 -0500

Might I suggest an “Adopt a Tree, Save the Páramos” Tshirt? For only $8, you’ll contribute to a great program (see earlier blog or visit our webpage www.fundetecuador.org) AND get a lovely Tshirt with a super cool logo. Please contact me if you’re interested, I’ll be stateside around Christmas and can arrange hand delivery to almost anywhere in the Northeast, and mail deliver in the rest of the US of A.

Fairy Godmother (?!): Part 1

Sat, 12 Nov 2011 09:37:08 -0500

I’m not Catholic. I don’t even think I’m Christian. But, I’m going to be a Godmother. Or, I guess I already am. I’m not sure.

My Goddaughter, Nicole, is the daughter of the cousin of my compañero Rene. She’s 5 years old, adorable, and lives in Toacaso, a town about 1.5 hours to the south of Quito. Nicole has two older brothers and very sweet parents, William and Nancy. Her grandfather Segundo (Rene’s uncle) lives in Quito and is someone I’ve gotten to know well while living here in Ecuador. But those are just the specs.

I don’t even know how acquiring Godparents works in the United States, but I’m pretty sure it’s not like it is here. Don Segundo and his wife, Elza, first mentioned that they’d like for Rene and I to be Nicole’s Godparents in May. It was during a fiesta and I didn’t think much of it. In August, they mentioned it again but nothing formal.

Come the end of August Don Segundo called Rene to say they were coming to formally ask us to be Godparents one Saturday. We already had a work commitment, so they said Friday evening, and we said, bueno. Rene said, “come early because we have to sleep early in order to leave Quito at 4.30am.” Well, in Ecuador people will ask, “Ecuadorian hour?” when one makes a plan, meaning, will you be on time or will you be in the vicinity of 2-5 hours late? Apparently, “early” in this case was an Ecuadorian early because they arrived around 10pm.

Who, might you be asking, were “they”? The whole damn fam.

Don Segundo and his wife and three of their children and two of the children of their children, Nancy and William and their three children, two of William’s brothers, an uncle, another uncle, a great-aunt, and I don’t know who I’m forgetting but I’m sure I am forgetting. And then there was our group – Rene, his mom, two brothers, a sister-in-law, three nieces, two nephews, two dogs, one cat, and me.

First Don Segundo and Elza talked about how they’d known Rene for years and how he’s grown to be a responsible man that they respect, etc. etc. And then how I am kind and well-educated and caring and the kind of woman they would like their granddaughter to be one day. And would we please be Nicole’s Godparents?

So we, of course, said yes yes thank you what an honor.

I thought that was it, but then came the whole crew (see above) bringing the mediana, boxes of bread and bananas, a trough of potatoes, 6 cuyes (guinea pig), 6 hens, soda, beer, and liquor, all cooked and ready to eat.

Then Rene and I had to baptize Nicole (he the Andean cosmovision adherent and I the I don’t know what non-Christian) with water and the whole 9-yards, right there in the living room. And from that moment, we have a Goddaughter.

Then we ate. And drank a bit. And then slept, because yes, we had to get up at 4.30am.

Now we’re all planning for the big B-Day… el Bautizo. It will be November 26^th, you’re cordially invited. In a big white tent in the center of Toacaso there will be a 18 piece band, more food than the 500 guests will be able to dream of eating, and dancing and drinking until at least noon the next day. We’re responsible for the white gown of my hijada, a change of clothes for the party, clothes for William and Nancy, and a gift. Nicole doesn’t have her own bed, so we’re thinking that will be the gift. But, please don’t tell, it’s a surprise!

Hope to see you there…

Adopt a Tree!

Mon, 07 Nov 2011 19:46:00 -0500

I started working with an NGO here in Ecuador in December of 2010 called Ñawpa-Kunan Yachay, or ÑAKUY. Ñawpa-Kunan Yachay is Kichwa for Past, Present Knowledge. The organization is based in Quito but mostly works in the province south of Quito, Cotopaxi, famous for its volcanoes. I started doing translations and writing grant proposals but quickly took on more responsibility and since have been working in the development of projects.

ÑAKUY works with indigenous communities in the areas of local government, the development of alternative economies, and strengthening cultural identity. The communities in which we work have some big challenges. There are no jobs. Agriculture is failing due to a lack of water, and with global warming, this problem grows every day. Government programs of the 1980s and early 1990s planted pine, eucalyptus, and cypress trees in the communities and in the páramos, trees that require much water, more water than the páramos can supply.

The páramos are the ecosystem above 3750 meters, climbing towards the peaks of the Andean mountains. Páramos serve as a storage system for water, a home to various animals and birds, and a lung of the planet processing CO₂.

And what of it, you might be asking. I fell in love with the Andes the first time I came to South America in 2007. I love the jagged peaks, the snow capped volcanoes, the giant condors, the rabbits, the cushion like consistency of the páramos, the random rivers and rivulets that stream from the peaks on downward, the cold thin air. All of it. So, getting to know the communities of Northern Cotopaxi that are nestled in the faldas de los Ilinizas, or the skirts of the Ilinizas volcanoes, I wanted to find a way to get more involved.

And so, Adopt a Tree, Save the Páramos, was born. Conservation of the environment, the development of a sustainable local economy, local government, indigenous cultural identity – it’s all linked. To reforest in communities of Northern Cotopaxi helps to replenish the soil, to make it more fertile, contributing to food sovereignty. To reforest with native plant species contributes to the continuation of local cultural practices, such as the use of barks for medicinal purposes.

In June we introduced the program to various NGOs and government agencies here in Ecuador. What we found was that NGOs weren´t interested and government agencies were interested only in doing things their own way. This included ignoring the advice of agricultural engineers that developed reforestation plans together with the local government. And so, we decided that wasnt the best route.

Instead, we brought Adopt a Tree to individuals. Thanks to my family and friends in the states that bought Tshirts and donated generously, we finished July with a seed fund. When we returned to Quito, we continued selling Tshirts and looking for individuals interested in our project to make donations. We talked with experts in reforestation, rehabilitation of páramos, and Ecuadorean laws regarding water and páramos and convinced some to donate their time to participate in debates and meetings.

In October we had our first event – a debate in the UNOCANC (the local indigenous government) in which a professor from the Technical University of the Army who is an expert in native plant species, the director of the Environmental Department of the provincial government, and a local farmer and political actor participated. Radio Latacunga, a community radio station in the province of Cotopaxi, broadcast the debate live. There were more than 100 participants, including mnany high school students. After the debate we provided lunch for all, thanks to a member of the ÑAKUY, Mauricio, who is a professional chef.

Two weeks later, we had our first community meeting in the community of Quinte San Antonio. We brought an expert on páramos and Ecuadorean water laws from the organization Agronomists and Veteranarians Without Borders to give a chat, as well as the dirigente (director) of gender and family from the UNOCANC. After their presentations, the community members worked in groups to develop proposals regarding how the UNOCANC can work to improve their management of the páramos. And of course, at the end, there was lunch. Chapushka – a traditional dish in the Andes that has chochos, a small, oval, white seed or bean like thing, tostado, corn kernals toasted with salt, mote, corn cooked long enough that the kernals kind of explode, queso, fresh cheese, cebolla, red onion, and culantro, cilantro.

Where do we go from here? We have two more community meetings planned in the communities of Quinte Buena Esperanza and Yanurquito. Once the meetings are done, we begin the planting. In each of the three communities we will be planting 2 hectares of native plants. In another community, Wintza, we will plant 2 hectares of native plants between the community agriculture territories and the páramos.

In a nutshell, this is what I’ve been doing for the past 5 months. (When I’m not writing my dissertation, of course.) And not to worry, there’s still time to get involved! Write to me at lgreenbarber@gmail.com or visit our website www.fundetecuador.org (if you speak Castellano) if you’d like some more information.

The Refrigerator

Fri, 20 May 2011 18:41:00 -0400

I always took having a refrigerator for granted; a fridge was simply something that exists in every home. Period. This is not the case, however, here in Ecuador, and I have not had a fridge since I arrived in August. That is, until yesterday.

How does one live without a fridge, you might ask. Actually, quite easily. Seeing as I don´t eat meat in the United States, not buying meat is more habit than hassle. Also, eggs don´t actually need to be refrigerated, so no problem there. I have missed cheese, and cereal with milk, but when my cravings are too much to bear, I simply buy a bit of cheese and eat it within 24 hours or a single serving of milk. Fruit and veggies can go bad quickly, so it has been a buy what you can eat in a couple days sort of existence. But truly, I got pretty used to the no fridge lifestyle… except for the no ice cream part.

I recently moved into a new apartment in the north of Quito that is much drier, warmer, and all around better than my old place. The catch? It didn´t come with a stove top ¨cocineta¨, and, of course, no fridge. A friend here had an extra cocineta to loan me as well as an old small fridge that was in disrepair. Being so accustomed to the use it ´til it breaks then buy a new one mentality I thought to myself, who keeps a broken fridge? So we brought the ¨refri¨ to a home appliance repair shop for an estimate - $30 to paint it and $50 for the repairs, much cheaper than the $400 or more that a new refri costs.

While the repairs took 2 weeks (not 1), multiple stops at the repair shop to haggle with the owner´s son, and dealing with some serious ineptness, I now have a shiny new-to-me fully functioning fridge, chock full o milk, cheese, yogurt, and produce. I never knew the hum of a fridge could sound so good.

The tale of the fridge is illustrative of one of the most valuable things I have learned so far here in Ecuador; if something is broken, fix it. And fix it with whatever you have available to you. For example, if the toilet flusher is broken and you don´t have any spare rubber hosey thing or a chain, why not tear a plastic bag into strands and fix it with that? If you´re a kid and you´re bored and it´s windy grab a couple of sticks, a plastic bag, some yarn and voila, you´ve got a kite. If the soles of your galoshes get holes in them, stick a knife in a fire, cut a piece of rubber out of child´s outgrown galoshes, and solder the sole. While here this ingenuity and creativity is a necessary fact of life when there isn´t money to replace what is broken, it is an important lesson for us all in a world running out of all sorts of resources.

Ok, enough of my pontificating, time for some yogurt with a side of milk!

AQ Blog - After the Vote

Wed, 11 May 2011 12:17:54 -0400

AQ Blog - After the Vote

Latin American Herald Tribune Article

Tue, 10 May 2011 19:14:46 -0400

Latin American Herald Tribune Article

AQ Blog

Tue, 10 May 2011 19:13:09 -0400

AQ Blog

How to get a licence (when you already have one).

Wed, 04 May 2011 19:46:43 -0400

After nearly 9 months of living and working in Ecuador it has become necessary to get an Ecuadorean license. Why, might one ask, do I need an Ecuadorean license when I have a perfectly good one from the good ol´ US of A? Good question. Ok, yeah, I understand there could be different traffic rules or signs (there aren´t), or the government might want to reassure themselves that I am, in fact, a capable driver (a legitimate concern). But couldn´t a simple exam prove this? Apparently not.

In order to get an Ecuadorean license, a foreigner must begin at square one. That is, I must fulfill all the same requirements as an Ecuadorean that has never gotten behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. So, driving school, here I come.

After shopping around driving schools and getting advice from friends, I settled on Condufacil, as they have a one week intensive course. Better yet, they allow students to take a practice driving test the first day in order to be excused from the practical part of the course. I passed. Phew.

Now, the documents one needs to attend driving school. Visa. Passport. License (don´t know why since it is worth beans here, apparently). Police record (no worries, I have not been arrested in Ecuador). Passport photos. Blood type (and no, a red cross card from the US will not do, must get blood tested by red cross here in Ecuador, just to be sure). And of course, cash.

So, I´ve been excused from driving class, have all my papers in, and now I just have to attend 5 days of 2.5 hour classes. Day 1: Mechanics. So, while I´ve been driving for 12 years, I am no mechanic. And that´s in English. I spent 2.5 hours listening to a classroom of 15 men and one professor (yes, I am the only woman in the class) go on and on about the most inane details of motors, tires, suspension, etc. In Spanish. The professor referred to my look of boredom and/or confusion (he was mistaken, it was actually loathing) no less than 3 times throughout the class. At the end of the class, we had a 10 question exam. I am pleased (yes, I am gloating) to say that I scored a perfect 10 and was the first in the class to finish. The look of shock on the professor´s face almost made the 2.5 hours of trying really hard not to roll my eyes worth it.

So now I have the rest of the week to learn about traffic laws, signage, the penalties for drinking and driving, and all that jazz. Once the course is over, assuming I pass my exams (written, practical, and - uh-oh - psychological), the school will pass my ´packet´ on to the government agency in charge of licensing. They ask for 15 business days, yes, three weeks, to review the packets. THEN I can go to the responsible department, take another written exam, have my eyes examined a second time, pay some more, and hopefully, be a fully licenced and legal driver here in Ecuador. The up side? I now have a killer motor vehicle Spanish vocabulary.

Easter in Ecuador: There is no bunny, but there are guinea pigs

Wed, 04 May 2011 19:28:32 -0400

Easter in a Catholic country is not a Sunday event with hats, patent leather shoes, egg hunts, and a bunny that magically visits every child leaving sweet treats and socks (or was that just the Easter bunny in the G-B home?). Instead, it is a week long event replete with yummy foods and full-fledged no-work holidays. Oh, and who knew there were enough movies (both with actors and animated) about God, Jesús, and the Bible to fill three days of air time without pause? There´s nothing quite like the story of Noah´s ark dubbed in español.

In Ecuador, Semana Santa (Holy Week) begins on the Sunday before Easter. Monday through Thursday there are various events at churches and anticipation builds for the big weekend. Good Friday, or Viernes Santo, is a national holiday. While this is not unique to Ecuador, Fanesca is. Fanesca is a soup made of 12 grains (to represent the 12 apostles) and bacalao (dried fish). Every family has their own recipe, although most have a base that includes cream or milk. I was fortunate enough to be invited to spend Viernes Santo with a family here in Quito and was able to sample their own delicious version of Fanesca, as well as those of all of their neighbors. The tradition is to bring an ample serving of your Fanesca to all of your neighbors - typical of the communal fashion of eating and drinking here.

Sunday, the big day, is not met with baskets and egg hunts, but instead benediciones. In each home, every member receives a blessing from every older member of the household. The blessings start with all of the things the older family member thinks you need to ask repentence, and continues with a blessing for the coming year. And then, bring on the meat!

During Semana Santa there should be no meat, although this seemed to be followed most strictly on Good Friday. Here in Ecuador, parrilladas, or barbeques, are a typical way for families to celebrate Easter Sunday with heaping portions of red meat, chicken, chorizos (sausages), and yes, cuy (guinea pig). As a guest in the Easter festivities, I was invited to be the grill-master. I am happy to say I successfully grilled the meat, including the 3 quartered cuyes. While I know some are saying, ¨Lindsay, did you really grill and then eat guinea pig?¨ and my mom is saying, ¨but don´t you remember Goldilocks?¨ (Laurel´s pet guinea pig from childhood), please, I beg of you, don´t knock it ´til you´ve tried it! The fresh grilled cuy was one of the more scrumptious meats I´ve ever had the pleasure of feasting upon. The only thing missing were peanut butter Reese´s eggs…

Photo

Tue, 22 Feb 2011 08:42:10 -0500

Los Ilinizas at dawn

Me at the lake between the two Ilinizas

Eating sheep head soup in Riobamba

Drinking chicha in Sarayaku

Bathed in chicha

House in Sarayaku

Ilnizas Adventure flyer

Back from hiatus...

Tue, 22 Feb 2011 08:26:22 -0500

It’s been awhile! I’ve been incredibly busy… in the best possible sense of the word. In December I spent 10 wild days in Brazil and 10 wonderful days in NH, CT, and NY visiting family and friends. I moved into a new apartment just before I left and I have really been enjoying it. It’s 4 blocks from Quito’s largest park, La Carolina, 5 blocks from the mall (with a supermarket), a block from the trole (trolley), and is huge with a large private patio. It’s nice to have some space and privacy after living in a dorm for 3 months during the fall. In January I returned to Quito and hit the ground running…

In addition to my dissertation research I’m now working with an organization here, FUNDET (Foundation for Development with Identity), that works in Cotopaxi province (to the south of Quito) in the area of technical assistance to strengthen local, alternative economies, community tourism, and cultural identity. It’s a great organization and I am finding the work to be incredibly rewarding. In January we took a trip to Los Ilinizas, a two peaked volcano in Cotopaxi province, to begin to map out trails and make connections with local cooperatives so we can begin community tourism projects. It is such a beautiful area - if you’d like to visit us in Ecuador, we can bring you there! There are thermal baths, lots of wildlife, beautiful panoramas, and S’mores are included in the package! Check out the flyer in the pictures that accompany this post. Last weekend we had a BBQ fundraiser at my apartment to raise a bit of money to begin our projects for this year. It was full of meat, music, and a piñata!

A few weeks ago we made a trip to Sarayaku, a community deep in the Amazon in Pastaza province. Sarayaku has festivals every two years to celebrate their cultural heritage, the abundance of Pachamama (mother earth), and generally to have fun. In order to get to Sarayaku we drove (I went with the delegation of the national indigenous organization here, the CONAIE) 5 hours south to the city of Puyo, then another hour south to Canelos, then took a canoe for 5 hours down the river. There is no electricity in the community nor running water, but there are solar panels in the central buildings and in some homes. It was really incredible - even with the bugs and snakes. The main activities are the drinking of and bathing in chicha, a drink made of masticated yuca and non-stop beating of tambores (drums), and the consumption of insane amounts of carne de monte (meat of the monte, the hills along the banks of the river). I partook in the drinking, but managed to escape the bathing as I had my camera around my neck for most of the weekend. I had the opportunity to eat peccari, fish eyes the roe of river fish, guanta (the largest rodent in the world), and (unknowingly) monkey. I have to admit, the monkey was quite delicious.

In addition to all of this, I’ve been continuing with my dissertation research and working with the CONAIE in their communications department. This has entailed lots of traveling to attend various organizations’ meetings and congresses, participating in some marches, and working to think of how the organization can make better use of new communications technologies. I’ve also continued writing articles and op-ed pieces for Americas Quarterly (americasquarterly.org) and the Latin American Herald Tribune (laht.com). You can visit these sites and search for “green-barber” to check out what I’ve been writing if you’re interested.

Throughout all of these adventures I’ve made some really great friends and Ecuador has truly begun to feel like another home!

El tiempo pasa volando! (or, time flies)

Mon, 22 Nov 2010 17:42:47 -0500

Apparently it has been almost two months since my last communiqué; my apologies to anyone who has been waiting anxiously, and you´re welcome to anyone who really hates blogs, but loves me or someone in my family enough to be guilted into reading this page. Anyway, I´ve been busy!

Since the first week of October I have spent approximately 7 days in my apartment in Quito, and the rest of the time traveling to the USA for Kelly´s Wedding!; Otavalo, Ecuador (a few times); Colombia; and, the Amazon. I´ll give a brief blah, blah over the highlights.

Kelly´s wedding. It was so great to see friends and family and celebrate Kelly and Ben becoming a Mr. & Mrs. And a special thank you to Mom and Laurel for being world class personal shoppers.

Otavalo. I´ve been a few more times to Otavalo (a city about 2.5 hours to the north of Quito) to do more interviews with indigenous journalists, activists, and directors of the regional political organization. Plus, I now have many friends in Otavalo, so I´m always looking for an excuse to head north for a couple of days and catch up with them!

Amazon. I went to Puyo in October to do some interviews and visit two different Waorani indigenous organizations. One, AMWAE (http://www.waoraniwomen.org/eng/index.html), is a Waorani women´s organization that is very cool. They produce artisanal prodducts - mostly jewelry and the like - and then sell it in Amazonian cities or to boutiques in larger cities, like Quito. The women then use the money to fund educational and health products in their communities. They basically got fed up with the men making the money, then using it to buy booze, and so this organization is their reaction. The women now have many positions as directors in the Waorani nation´s organization, NAWE. During this October trip I also went to a conference/workshop of indigenous “jovenes” (youths). It was really interesting and I met a lot of great people - people that have really helped me out since.

I was just in Puyo this past week as well for the national assemblies of CONFENIAE (the political organization of indigenous nations of the Amazon) and CONAIE (the political organization of all indigeous nations of Ecuador). It was incredibly interesting. There were about 300 participants, mostly elected representatives of their respective nationalities and communities, and they were there for a special session to debate whether the organizations should re-enter discussions with the government. In the end, they voted to continue with their stance of non-discussion until the goverment releases the 78 indigenous leaders and activists that are currently in jail, most as a result of their role in organizing political protests. At the assemblies I ran into many friends I´ve made over my time here, plus made some new friends.

Colombia. I went to Cauca, Colombia the second week in November to attend the Cumbre Continental de Comunicación Indígena de Abya Yala (Continental Summit on Indigenous Communication in America). I was a bit nervous (or as my Mom told me, the most nervous she´d ever seen me) before going as the instructions were to bring blankets or a tent, a spoon, a bowl, and a cup. Furthermore, I was unsure if I would be welcome as an outsider and I had no luck in contacting the organizers of the conference. A friend who is a director of CONFENIAE invited me to travel with the Ecuadorean delegation, and it was fabulous. It was a long trip there (about 18 hours including stops for food) with two buses of about 75 people in total. But it was great! Again, I met amazing people and having a whole week together in pouring rain with crummy food and overflowing bathrooms, but loads of great ideas and positive energy of 1,800 participants meant that we were pretty close by the end of the cumbre. I learned a lot about different experiences with alternative forms of communication from the US to Patagonia. I also was interviewed (live) on the local radio stations, kind of cool!

After the conference, I stayed on and went up to Calí for a visit. I figured, if I was less than 3 hours from Calí, it would be a shame to not visit it, right? It was awesome! The city is really beautiful and the historical section has lots of art galeries and funky antique shops and cafés - perfect for wandering around in. And the SALSA (the dance, not the food)… incredible! I was out with a Dutch couple, and so only did a bit of dancing, but it was almost as fun to just watch.

I think that is more or less a recap of the highlights of the past month and a half or so. I am currently in Sucúa, about an hour south of Macas in the Amazon if anyone cares to consult a map. It´s a really nice little town, and also the headquarters of the Shuar Federation (another indigenous nation of Ecuador). I spent the day with a director of the organization and visited the radio station. This station has a very long history and has been key in the Shuar´s struggle for territorial and other rights. It´s pretty amazing! Tomorrow I´ll visit the federation again, and then begin my long schlep up north to Lago Agrio, about three hours north of Coca in the Amazon near the Colombian border. There I´ll meet with a director of the Cofán nation and hopefully visit some Cofán communities. I´ll be thinking of you all and missing you on Thursday… Happy Turkey Day!