The Water Wars: Ecuador

Snipers. Ambushes. Bombas.

The Water Wars have come to Zamora.

As in most communities throughout South America, the week preceding Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent are marked by a period of excess and celebration: Carnival. In Zamora, for instance, the entire city and surrounding barrios are transformed into war zones as both everyone becomes immensed in a gigantic water fight.

At any moment, you are at risk. Water balloons soar off roof tops. Students chase innocent teacher across the city while wielding water guns and balloons. If the water runs out, and it did, the war continues regardless. All simply look for other forms of harmless ammunition ranging from flour and eggs to mud and shaving cream. It is absolute mayhem. Families cruise around in the backs of pickup trucks targeting innocent passerbys; children hide in second story windows searching for unwitting pedestrians.

It is, without a doubt, my new favorite holiday.

Officially, festivites began on Friday (although many starting launching water balloons nearly a week earlier) with a gigantic party in the high school. Some activities were relatively mundane—such as tug-of-war and a three-legged race— and others were absolutely shocking including competitions to name the fattest and thinnest student in the school. Needless to say, comments regarding weight and personal appearance are considered completely appropriate in Ecuador.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the ridiculous competitions, water balloons, eggs, flour, achote, mud, and shaving cream soared through the air. I am still trying to scrub the flour out of my hair.

By Saturday morning, the official start of carnival, peaceful Zamora had been transformed into a war zone. As soon as I left my apartment, I was bombarded by balloons. After a perilous jaunt across town in which I proved unable to avoid sniper fire, I finally made it to my host family's house where I moved onto the offense and joined my young host nephews on the rooftop to launch our own balloons at passerbys unknowingly meandering through our line of fire.

After two intense days of warfare, I decided to temporarily relax on Sunday and allow my clothing to dry as much as possible. Thus, I ventured to Vilcabamba to participate in Reto 21x24 in Loja. This is a series of 21 kilometer (13.1 mile) races being hosted in each of Ecuador's 24 provinces to raise awareness about Yasuní National Park and pending oil explorations that will most likely destroy it.

The run started out well; Unfortunately, as we snaked through the valley, we lost sight of both the runners in front of us and those behind us. Completely lost, we began running in circles until finally finding some other athletes; thus, our 21 kilometer run to protect Yasuní had been transformed into a 25 kilometer odessey.

No complaints though. Cool Sierran temperatures and good company make for a great run. Not too mention some bizarre scenery. As we twisted through the mountains, we passed typical Andean villages and affluent hippie enclaves. Hundreds of hippies from across the globe call Vilcabamba home and many have constructed elaborate homes amid the hills.

Following the race, Elizabeth and I had the opportunity to venture into one such hideaway when a local PCV invited us to his weekly basketball game at the home of an ex-pat. The house was,for lack of a better term, insane. It boasted a full-sized basketball court, two water slides reminiscent of those found in Water Country, and a herd of horses. Yet, in spite of its splendor, the enclave made me somewhat uncomfortable. The mansion was located within a fortified community in which dozens of ex-pats live in extreme luxury. Meanwhile, only a few kilometers outside the gate, many Ecuadorians live in poverty. The ex-pats and the Ecuadorians rarely interact; many of the gringos have lived in Ecuador for years, yet haven't even bothered to learn Spanish..

I don't wish to imply that the ex-pats should not be building lavish homes; they earned their money and, therefore, have the right to spend it as they please. Yet, whydo they live in another country if they barely ever interact with their Ecuadorian neighbors and learn about their culture?

After spending a day in the Sierra—where cool temperatures make the water balloons even less desirable—I ventured towards Yantzaza. Given the soaring temperatures in the jungle town, several PCV friends and I immediately joined the mayhem. Armed with water balloons and buckets of water, we began prowling the streets ambushing other rabblerousers. Hours later, dripping wet, we finally wandered back to a local PCVs house knowing that we had most definitely rocked carnival.

It's just a shame it's a bit cold in the United States in February; otherwise Carnival 2014 would definitely be coming your way.