Had I known what the Madrina contest would entail, I would not have eagerly agreed to participate. I honestly thought that I would leave school at 1:00 with the other teachers, throw on a dress, and strut around with the other madrinas an hour later. Let's just say, I was sorely mistaken.
Upon returning to Colegio “12 de Febrero” following Reconnect, I discovered that the teacher's were about to begin the annual soccer and basketball tournament between professors. Given the importance of celebration and formality in Ecuador, it was unsurprising that it would begin with a large inaugeration in which each of the five teams would select a madrina to compete for the title of Señorita de Deportes.
I agreed to represent the Madrinas on Monday; by Tuesday morning, I realized that my expections were far too low. Not only did I have three days to learn to prance about the Colegio in high heels, but I also had to borrow a very formal dress and wear oodles of make-up. The competition was considered extremely important; the other candidates and I were dismissed from work several hours early to prepare. And, after my sisters spent several hours primping me, I was definitely transformed into a new person; my three-year-old niece didn't even recognize me.
Following the inaugeration, I immediately hopped on a bus to Loja after scraping off about 75% of the makeup to join the rest of the Loja Cluster for Thanksgiving dinner at Sabriga's house. It was a resounding success; whether we were eating too many slices of pie or dancing to Stevie Wonder, we all spent the night laughing and celebrating in spite of the being thousands of miles from our friends, families, and the vast majority of people celebrating such an important United States holiday. I can speak for everyone when I say we all left thankful for having such an awesome and scrumptious Thanksgiving with our pretty awesome cluster.
Still stuffed, I arose far too early Friday morning to head to Colegio. Given how late I arrived in Zamora, I was lucky in that I didn't have to teach. School was cancelled so the teachers and staff could enjoy a giant pig fry. At dawn, the male faculty dragged three 200 pound pigs, head and skin included to the colegio and commenced the long process of preparing the food. As teachers arrived, everyone begin pitching in whether cutting yucca, pealing plantains, and chopping up the animals while chomping on uncooked pig skin (cuero). Yikes. It's as aweful as it sounds; little hairs are still on it. Eventually, most of the work completed, we began playing sports and lounging around under the blazing sun. By 4:00, all were absulutely stuffed, quite sunburnt, and eager to go for a quick dip in the river before reuntiing for Maria Elisa's despedida later that night.
Still exhausted from dancing into the wee hours into the morning, I arose relatively early on Saturday to join a fellow PCV on her trek to Guadalupe, a rural town roughly 45 minutes outside Zamora. The PCV works with a non-profit dedicated to microconsignment, a growing branch of microfinance in which clients are trained to provide necessary health services such as eye glasses and water purification information to their communities. They subsequently host lectures to explain the importance of water treatment, for instance, and sell needed tools and equipment to their neighbors which enables them to help their communities address widespread health concerns while subsequently earning a living for themselves and their families. Interestingly, the non-profit, Soluciones Comunitarias, happens to be operated by Maria Luz and Sarah, two of my housemates while I lived in Paraguay.
After arriving in Guadalupe, my fellow PCV and I began her visit with a local group providing eye glasses, affordable water purification systems, and solar lamps to their communities. As Guadalupe is in the midst of fiestas, they had set up a stand in the feria. Unfortunately, sales were not overwhleming Saturday afternoon, but our visit did allow us to provide some sales tips (i.e. don't leave boxes of material where they can easily be robbed) and explore a charming small town. Moreover, we spent several hours hunched over the crossword found in a local paper. Several hours and one serious sunburn later, we still hadn't finished but we definitely enjoyed an excellent afternoon with some budding local businessmen and women.
Early Sunday morning, I continued exploring the Zamora-Chinchipe, although I decided to venture out on foot by participating in Reto 21x24. What is Reto 21x24? It is a challenge posed by a woman living in Quito dedicated to protecting the Yasuni Reserve from oil exploration and extraction. The immense Amazonian reserve, located deep in the province of Pastaza, is home to significant biodiversity as well as several indigenous groups still engaging in hunting and gethering. It is also, unfortunately, reputed to by the home of significant oil deposits. As oil exploration commences, the wildlife and ecosystem is being destroyed and roads are enabling colonists to squat on the land, thus interrupting the indigenous groups' ways of life. Ecuadorian President Correa has indicated that he will stop oil exploration provided that other nations pay Ecuador the estimated value of the oil as they are preserving the rainforest instead of garnering a profit. This plan, known as Proyecto ITT, has not been well received and threats of continued oil exploration and extraction continue.
Reto 21x24 is a means of protesting oil extraction in the Yasuni reserve. It involved a group run of 21 kilometers (13.1 miles or a half marathon) in each of Ecuador's 24 provinces to raise awareness and money. It is not a race; rather it is a group effort and, on Sunday morning, a small group of about 10-15 athletes united in the Parque Lineal of Zamora to begin the half marathon. Although it was an unbarably hot and hilly route, it was an excellent chance to explore Zamora, the nearby barrio of Tinbara, and many rural corners of the Canton of Zamora that I had yet to explore. Not to mention a great chance to meet runners from throughout Ecuador and support the preservation of one of our Earth's greatest treasures. I will most assuredly be participating in more Reto 21x24 races in other nearby provinces throughout the coming months.
27.11.11
Capturing Riobamba
Whenever travelling in South America, my camera is never far from my fingertips. I have, therefore, amassed hundreds of photographs of church steeples and the Andes scraping the sky. Yet, while I love these images, they don't seem to epitomize South America because, quite simply, they always seem to lack people. Although I try to capture the people flooding the public squares and the marketplace, my camara never manages to capture the intangible magic and cultural friction that makes Ecuador such an interesting and excellent home.
Although my photographic inabilities have long plagued me, my struggles were particularly acute when I trekked to Riobamba last weekend. Riobamba (AKA Riobamba), one of the largest and coldest cities in Ecuador, lies 2750 meters in the air. t is surrounded by three snow-capped volcanos in spite of its proximity to the equator. It is, therefore, absolutely stunning.
Yet, its natural wonders are overshadowed by its cultural ones. It boasts a largely indigenous population, many of whom still adorn themselves with tradition clothing and panama hats. Many still speak Kichwa according to a friend living in the city. This creates an interesting juxtaposition with the signs of “modernity” or “westernization” also frequent in the city and it certainly made for many interesting and thought-provoking jaunts through the city although, unfortunately, I struggles to adequately capture the cultural clash on my camara.
Of all the places we visited, which include several churches and an artisan market, my favorite was undoubtedly the livestock market. It can best be described as absolute mayhem. Thousands of people packed into a small space which searching for the best deals on chickens, rabbits, and guinea pigs (a Riobamban delicacy). Meanwhile, the vendors do whatever possible to attract potential buyers whether they do so be screaming or sidling up alongside the customers and whispering about their wares stored in large tweed sacks. They are quite talented; even I almost bought a live guinea pig after all for the discount price of $3.25.
Our trek through Riobamba not only enabled the Loja cluster of Omnibus 106 to discover a delightful Ecuadorian city, but it also allowed us to break up the trip home following reconnect. Every Peace Corps omnibus reunites after spending roughly three months at their sites to discuss their needs assessments and potential projects with fellow PCVs and their counterparts . Moreover, it's a chance to “reconnect” with old friends and laugh about the absurdity that is inherent to Peace Corps service (Absurdistan anyone?).
Following our brief stay in Riobamba, most of the 106ers from Loja relaxed in Cuenca and enjoyed the luxuries inherent to a city oriented around tourism. Es decir, we ate food containing vegetables and spices. Delightful. Before continuing onto our sites and beginning to work once again.
Although my photographic inabilities have long plagued me, my struggles were particularly acute when I trekked to Riobamba last weekend. Riobamba (AKA Riobamba), one of the largest and coldest cities in Ecuador, lies 2750 meters in the air. t is surrounded by three snow-capped volcanos in spite of its proximity to the equator. It is, therefore, absolutely stunning.
Yet, its natural wonders are overshadowed by its cultural ones. It boasts a largely indigenous population, many of whom still adorn themselves with tradition clothing and panama hats. Many still speak Kichwa according to a friend living in the city. This creates an interesting juxtaposition with the signs of “modernity” or “westernization” also frequent in the city and it certainly made for many interesting and thought-provoking jaunts through the city although, unfortunately, I struggles to adequately capture the cultural clash on my camara.
Of all the places we visited, which include several churches and an artisan market, my favorite was undoubtedly the livestock market. It can best be described as absolute mayhem. Thousands of people packed into a small space which searching for the best deals on chickens, rabbits, and guinea pigs (a Riobamban delicacy). Meanwhile, the vendors do whatever possible to attract potential buyers whether they do so be screaming or sidling up alongside the customers and whispering about their wares stored in large tweed sacks. They are quite talented; even I almost bought a live guinea pig after all for the discount price of $3.25.
Our trek through Riobamba not only enabled the Loja cluster of Omnibus 106 to discover a delightful Ecuadorian city, but it also allowed us to break up the trip home following reconnect. Every Peace Corps omnibus reunites after spending roughly three months at their sites to discuss their needs assessments and potential projects with fellow PCVs and their counterparts . Moreover, it's a chance to “reconnect” with old friends and laugh about the absurdity that is inherent to Peace Corps service (Absurdistan anyone?).
Following our brief stay in Riobamba, most of the 106ers from Loja relaxed in Cuenca and enjoyed the luxuries inherent to a city oriented around tourism. Es decir, we ate food containing vegetables and spices. Delightful. Before continuing onto our sites and beginning to work once again.
12.11.11
"Celebrate We Will"
In early October, the entire city of Zamora paused to celebrate the city; likewise, the city and the surrounding province spent the first weeks of November celebrating the province's foundation a mere fifty-eight years ago. Although the official holiday falls on November 10, shenanigans began on November 1st with the annual Pregon. The Pregon is an annual parade featuring thousand high school students and officials of various public institutions dressed in elaborate costumes despite the blazing sunlight and soaring temperatures. For me, it was a great replacement for Halloween. There are very few Halloween celebrations in Zamora—although most are familiar with the Americanized version of the Celtic holiday—but the entire town still seems to dress up as soccer stars, butterflies, or zombies albeit a day later than the American holiday.
Following the Pregon, the town officially opened the giant feria. Not only can visitors buy everything from coconut milk to Saraguro attire, but they can also ride numerous carnival rides and attend raucious free concerts. The rides are admittedly terrifying given the absence of safety regulations in Ecuador and the young—barely adolescent—employees charged with operating them. I recently boarded a ride in which customers are repeatedly twirled upside down in the air. As expected, the attendant secured the safety bars above my sisters and I. He did not, however, remember the do the same for those in the front row and he started the ride. The boys immediately began screaming and, luckily, the attendant stopped the attraction saving the boys from serious injuries if not death. Crisis averted but I'm certainly less willing to jump on a ride and entrust a twelve-year-old with the security after that experience.
In addition to the carnival, there have been numerous free concerts in the fair grounds beginning with a cumbia group on Sunday evening. Monday—known as La Noche de la Juventud-- featured the largest concert of the week: Rata Blanca. After a two year wait (Rata Blanca had been a scheduled guest for the past several years but never arrived due to mining companies refusal to financially-back the event due to conflicts with the provincial government), Zamoranos packed the fair grounds to mosh or moshear to the beat. But, unfortunately, the wait continued for several hours more as, in true Ecuadorian fashion, the concert that was scheduled to begin at 9:00 did not start until 12:00. Following such a late night, the town relaxed on Tuesday before returning to the fair groups on Wednesday for the next concert-a folkloric band known as Hayak.
Finally, after barely sleeping for several nights due to my house's proximity to the fair grounds and the loud concerts lasting nearly until dawn, November 10th arrived. The official anniversary of Zamora-Chinchipe's provincialization was marked by the civic parade in the morning. As a teacher, I once again spent the morning marching through town and slowly being transformed into a lobster thanks to the sun's piercing rays. Given than each high school marches with a band, all staff, and three legions of students (the tallest and best “formed” of the students as selected by the inspectors), it is certainly a long parade. Following the parade, the town relaxed—I trekked to the river with some friends to frolick in the current and snack on some rocks—until the final cumbia and reggaeton concert in the fair.
We're now in the midst of our final spat of vacation prior to resuming a normal schedule. For various reasons, we hae only had 3 ½ days of school in the past few weeks; well, 4 ½ if you count to Saturday of the minga. Theweekend prior to the beginning of festivities, all parents and teachers were required to come to the school and conduct a minga or a community work project. Everyone contributed; some planted gardens, others macheted the soccer field, and others constructed a rear fence out of logs so students cannot sneak out. It was truly impressive to see all come together and work to improve the facilties, although such widespread participation may have been provoked more from the threat of a $5.00 fine than overall goodwill.
In spite of spending a Saturday at the school helping with the minga and playing basketball, the copious vacations have also left much time for exploration including several jaunts in Podocarpus National Park near Loja, Vilcabamba, and Zamora respectively. Interestingly, each respective trek was in an ecologically distinct zone in spite of being only a few hours apart on twisting mountain roads. I must admit, however, that my favorite was that in the tropical forests of Zamora—which proved to be a truly ridiculous adventure when we went in search of the “mirador.” Prior to the hike, we had noted a trail to the mirador. The sign suggested that it was only 800 meters, but that it required 85 minutes. Odd. We decided to skip it and return some other time; unfortunately, a miscommunication with a Belgian friend left us with no other options. We had to climb to the mirador. Legs burning and soaked with sweat, we had literally clawed our way up a steep ascent nearly an hour later only to discover that, in spite of the signs, there was no mirador. We had literally climbed up steep mountain ridge pushing through overgrown vegetation and discovered nothing. After descending, we decided to ask the guard about the trail; he laughed and said something about an area with slightly fewer trees. Classic Ecuador—good times and absurd adventures. And really, really sore legs the following day.
Following the Pregon, the town officially opened the giant feria. Not only can visitors buy everything from coconut milk to Saraguro attire, but they can also ride numerous carnival rides and attend raucious free concerts. The rides are admittedly terrifying given the absence of safety regulations in Ecuador and the young—barely adolescent—employees charged with operating them. I recently boarded a ride in which customers are repeatedly twirled upside down in the air. As expected, the attendant secured the safety bars above my sisters and I. He did not, however, remember the do the same for those in the front row and he started the ride. The boys immediately began screaming and, luckily, the attendant stopped the attraction saving the boys from serious injuries if not death. Crisis averted but I'm certainly less willing to jump on a ride and entrust a twelve-year-old with the security after that experience.
In addition to the carnival, there have been numerous free concerts in the fair grounds beginning with a cumbia group on Sunday evening. Monday—known as La Noche de la Juventud-- featured the largest concert of the week: Rata Blanca. After a two year wait (Rata Blanca had been a scheduled guest for the past several years but never arrived due to mining companies refusal to financially-back the event due to conflicts with the provincial government), Zamoranos packed the fair grounds to mosh or moshear to the beat. But, unfortunately, the wait continued for several hours more as, in true Ecuadorian fashion, the concert that was scheduled to begin at 9:00 did not start until 12:00. Following such a late night, the town relaxed on Tuesday before returning to the fair groups on Wednesday for the next concert-a folkloric band known as Hayak.
Finally, after barely sleeping for several nights due to my house's proximity to the fair grounds and the loud concerts lasting nearly until dawn, November 10th arrived. The official anniversary of Zamora-Chinchipe's provincialization was marked by the civic parade in the morning. As a teacher, I once again spent the morning marching through town and slowly being transformed into a lobster thanks to the sun's piercing rays. Given than each high school marches with a band, all staff, and three legions of students (the tallest and best “formed” of the students as selected by the inspectors), it is certainly a long parade. Following the parade, the town relaxed—I trekked to the river with some friends to frolick in the current and snack on some rocks—until the final cumbia and reggaeton concert in the fair.
We're now in the midst of our final spat of vacation prior to resuming a normal schedule. For various reasons, we hae only had 3 ½ days of school in the past few weeks; well, 4 ½ if you count to Saturday of the minga. Theweekend prior to the beginning of festivities, all parents and teachers were required to come to the school and conduct a minga or a community work project. Everyone contributed; some planted gardens, others macheted the soccer field, and others constructed a rear fence out of logs so students cannot sneak out. It was truly impressive to see all come together and work to improve the facilties, although such widespread participation may have been provoked more from the threat of a $5.00 fine than overall goodwill.
In spite of spending a Saturday at the school helping with the minga and playing basketball, the copious vacations have also left much time for exploration including several jaunts in Podocarpus National Park near Loja, Vilcabamba, and Zamora respectively. Interestingly, each respective trek was in an ecologically distinct zone in spite of being only a few hours apart on twisting mountain roads. I must admit, however, that my favorite was that in the tropical forests of Zamora—which proved to be a truly ridiculous adventure when we went in search of the “mirador.” Prior to the hike, we had noted a trail to the mirador. The sign suggested that it was only 800 meters, but that it required 85 minutes. Odd. We decided to skip it and return some other time; unfortunately, a miscommunication with a Belgian friend left us with no other options. We had to climb to the mirador. Legs burning and soaked with sweat, we had literally clawed our way up a steep ascent nearly an hour later only to discover that, in spite of the signs, there was no mirador. We had literally climbed up steep mountain ridge pushing through overgrown vegetation and discovered nothing. After descending, we decided to ask the guard about the trail; he laughed and said something about an area with slightly fewer trees. Classic Ecuador—good times and absurd adventures. And really, really sore legs the following day.
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