Throughout the past week, the relative stillness of the Ecuadorian night has been interrupted by brilliant displays of fireworks in the darkened skies and the rhythmic thumping of salsa and cumbia music escaping from dozens of outdoor concerts. Why has there been so much hullaballoo? August 10, of course, the day of both my 22nd birthday and Ecuador's 201st one.
Given that August 10 fell on a Wednesday this year, much of the patriotic festivities were moved to the weekend and August 12 was declared feriado (aka no one has to work). Thus, August 10 was primarily reserved for my own (relatively sedate) celebrations. After consuming almost an entire cake as a means of distracting myself from some rather disconcerting pictures of various contagious diseases during a health lecture, a group of PCTs and I ventured to a nearby shwarma restaurant to chat, relax, and enjoy a dinner free from Ecuadorian staples (namely rice). Delicious. And some wonderful PCTs decided to indulge my two biggest vices, coffee and Chile, and gave me some excellent Ecuadorian coffee and Chilean wine. Some things never change -- my obsessions and my awesome birthdays whether occuring in Chile, the USofA, or Ecuador.
Given that Ecuador decided to celebrate its independance and birthday on the August 12, we enjoyed a long weekend and a break from training. Thus, my host parents and I journeyed to their farm in the cloud forests between the highlands of the sierra and the Amazon. The excitement began before leaving Tumbaco; due to the long weekend, my host mother and I could not find space on any buses passing through the suburb on their way to Napo. After hours of waiting, we finally found a driver willing to let us board, provided we squeezed into the front cabin with him. Thus, I spent the next few hours wedged between the shift and drivers' seat trembling in fear as the driver seemingly forgot to stay on the right side of the twisty mountain roads.
Luckily, we soon arrived in Cosanga and tumbled into bed given that our plans for the weekend began well before dawn. By 7:00 AM on Friday, I had learned to milk cows, drank fresh milk (boiled of course), climbed the mud mountain in search of pregnant cows, and helped with numerous household chores. We spent the rest of the day exploring nearby towns, fruitlessly searching for tropical birds, and bathing in the nearby river. As the sun set, we ventured to a nearby mirador for an unrivaled view towards the seemingly endless Amazon rainforest. On Saturday, we actually trekked to the edges of the rainforest. Not only did we frolic with monkeys in Misahualli (as well as snakes) and explore Tena, but we also spent hours practicing our detective skills as we hunted for one of my host father's elusive clients in Archiduna.
Throughout these many trips around Napo, I obviously enjoyed stunning views of the countryside. Yet, many of these panoramas were blighted...either by oil pipelines or desperate poverty. In regards to the pipes, huge metal structures bringing the oil from the Amazon to the coast line nearly all roads in the region. Not only is it an eyesore, but it's also a reminder that much of the economy is reliant on a resource that will soon disappear. Moreover, the Amazon regions have not benefited from the profits generated by the extractive economy; the vast majority of infrastructure and resources are concentrated in the coast and sierra. Yet, this many slowly be changing. It seems as if Correa's “Revolucion Ciudadania” is finally bringing investment to the region as the nearly every river is now spanned by a newly-constructed bridge alongside a large sign crediting Correa with the projects.
In addition to making the province more accessible to those coming from the sierra and the coast, the projects will hopefully generate economic development. As in other parts of Ecuador and Latin America (as well as much of the rest of the world), there is a sharp juxtaposition between the “haves” and “have-nots” in Ecuador. While various prosperous farms and haciendas dot the country, countless families also live in abject poverty. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I am obviously aware of this reality, yet it doesn't make it less upsetting to meet the 12 year-old children living on my host family's land who have already left school in order to work on the farm everyday. And I hope, in the next two years and beyond, I never become complacent and accept it as a part of life. If no one becomes upset, how will it ever change?
I have to say (despite the number of times that I have heard it myself), I am jealous of the experience that you are having. I miss being in a new place with new at my fingertips. That should subside somewhat once I settle down in the fall, but for now I get to tell you things (true things) like I love seeing the world vicariously through your blog.
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