Volcan Pichincha

The people who you are with can really make or break the experience. Last Sunday, they made it the best day so far in Ecuador.

Ecuador is known for their numerous outdoors activities and phenomenal hiking. It is a country that prides itself on its impressive and diverse wilderness. Finally, after 4 weeks, I got to fulfill my intense craving for hiking.

One of the great things about Ecuador is that you can literally step out your door and a few minutes later, there will be something to do. In this instance, it was hiking up an active stratovolcano. From my door, it was a 5 minute cab ride up the side of the volcano that my apartment sits on to the base of a gondola that takes you farther up. We had to start bright and early (for a Sunday) and we began hiking at 9:45am. Although it was quite warm in the valley of Quito, it was cool at the top of the gondola. Suddenly, the weather warnings and hiking horror stories I had heard from my host mom about Volcan Pichincha for the past two days were starting to make sense...

 

 

The first part of the hike carried us up some hills at the base of the volcano. These were covered in alpine grass and little shrubs as we were past the alpine tree zone. The hardest thing about the hike was the altitude. We were already much higher than Quito, and the air was even thinner than what we were used to. We had to stop frequently to let our breathing slow and our hearts stop pounding. It was quite an experience already fighting with your body to do something that would be easy in Canada. As we made over the hills, we could see strange lines of tiny trees growing in the hillside. We realized that these were actually overgrown terraces that the previous inhabitants of the volcano had left behind. It made us realize that when you are in South America, you are never far from the imprints that people long before you have left behind. The history of the continent is long and rich, with many small details that could be overlooked but are really a gateway into the past.

 

 

 While we were making it through these hills, the clouds started to descend. In this moment, two large birds (maybe eagles) began playing on the wind above us. I took it as a good omen and it was rather fitting as it was Sunday. The volcano became my sanctuary and I said thanks to her for bringing me to this wonderful place and for her creation, and finally, I asked her to keep us safe.

 

If we thought the hills were hard, we were in for a treat. The next part had steeper hills and the volcano introduced us to some mud and we scrambled up a few small rock faces. Even though this was exhausting and difficult, the surroundings were absolutely gorgeous. Lying peaceful and innocent in the valley below is Quito, stretching on forever in both directions (North and South). At one point, one of my group members remarked that the city looked like a disease, taking over the green spaces with grey cement. I would have to agree, especially from the bird’s eye view we were getting. The valleys and volcano’s landscape was very beautiful and in contrast to the city below, giving the impression of being untouched. It was a relief to be out of the city, the crowds, the noises and especially the smell, and to be enveloped in fresh air, the pulsing of your heart beat, and your laboured breath as you climb higher and higher.

At lunch we sat under a ledge of a rock face and feasted on peanut butter and jam sandwiches, mandarins, and various other treats we had brought to boost our energy. As we were all preparing for the next leg of our journey, we sang “The Sound of Music”. It was very fitting and set the mood for the next half, with optimism and teamwork. By this point, we had already been swallowed by the clouds and so the view was gone, but the plants growing on the side of the mountain were gorgeous and some quite bizarre.

 

As we moved along, the terrain became harder to manage and the ground became wet (from constant precipitation). The third phase of the hike was a scree slope of ash and large, loose rocks. It basically felt like we were walking up a large sand dune. You would take a few steps up and then you would slide down a bit. It was exhausting! This was also compiled with the fact that we were getting extremely close to 15 000 feet above sea level (Edmonton is around 3000). At this point, it doesn’t matter what shape you are in, it gets extremely hard to breathe. 

 

 

The next, and final step, was some actual mountain climbing up a rock face. There were large rocks to hang onto and it wasn’t a sheer rock face, but it was extremely difficult none-the-less when the rocks are wet and you are labouring for breath. After about half an hour of, “You are almost there, only 5 more minutes!” we arrived at the summit. It is the most amazing feeling, pulling yourself over the last rock. You then see the sign, you feel all weight left off your shoulders, and joy takes over every thought in your head. It is unbelievable to think that you gained an altitude of around 5000 feet in 4 hours and even more so at high altitude. When all 8 of us got to the top, all there was was sheer joy, exhilaration, and a feeling of group accomplishment. There were a few tears of joy and many, many hugs. 

 

 

Liam, Meg, Me, A random guy who joined us, Sarah, Mike, Constance, and our guide, Cesar

After the token group photo and a long rest with munchies, we made our way down, some of us on our bums down the rock face. At around this point, it had started to rain and hail so we had to go as fast as we could without falling which was exhilarating and challenging, even though my fingers were numb in their mitts. After that, we jogged or ran down the scree slope, which was definitely the most fun part of the hike. It felt very close to skiing, which is also a sport that I am missing very much. After that section, we started to realize our breathing becoming less laboured, which was a huge relief. The rest of the trip was easy in comparison. Once we got below the clouds, the view was stunning again and it was a relief to know that we all survived the hardest or one of the hardest hikes we have ever done. 

 

 

There is no way that we would have been able to do it without the support of each other. We all kept in good spirits and although we were at the limit of our body’s abilities, we maintained excellent attitudes. It was really inspiring to be a part of this hike with these fantastic people!

Otavalo

This weekend I went to Otavalo, which was quite an experience.

Otavalo is about 3 hours north of Quito by bus, and is known for being the largest market of indigenous goods in Latin America. It is a small town but has a large and distinct indigenous population known as Otavaleños. I found the town very interesting because there were so many indigenous people in their traditional dress. This does not happen in the city as it is considered a more “business-oriented” kind of place and traditional dress is not as accepted. There has been a stigma against indigenous people, much like in Canada, where they are not generally accepted in society unless you revoke some of your heritage (and sometimes not even then). This is exemplified by the fact that the indigenous people in Ecuador only gained citizenship in 2007. Yeah, that was 4 years ago... Another interesting thing about this is that there is no concrete statistic for the number of indigenous people in Ecuador. When censuses happened, indigenous were not included in it, so many people claimed that they were mestizo (a mixture of Spanish and indigenous) instead. This is interesting because there is a very large indigenous population in Ecuador, although the projected number is somewhere in the range of 25 to 75%. Now, with indigenous status being more widely recognized, it will be interesting to see how many more people claim their indigeneity in the census next year.

The traditional dress for women is the traditional navy skirt (velvet-looking), a white blouse with colourful embroidery, and navy sandals. They also wear a colourful belt around their waist, large amounts of gold or red beads around their neck, and their long hair is usually braided down their back. The men usually wear white pants and a sweater, with a black or navy hat. However, the traditional wear is with a colourful poncho, a white shirt underneath, white sandals, and their long hair braided down their back as well.

I was talking with my professor Julie, who is currently working on her Ph.D (in anthropology on Andean indigenous groups). She said that the main sign of your indigeneity is not the clothes you wear, although that is important, but the braid in your hair. Many people, especially men, cut off their hair when they come to the city to attend university or to work. She said in Otavalo, there are also hair-cutting ceremonies where their braid will be cut, framed, and hung in their home in the community. It is to symbolize that they still maintain their indigenous identity, but cannot outwardly portray it when studying or working.

I also asked her about my observation of the many, many more women in traditional dress than men. She told me that my observation was right, and that dressing in traditional dress has taken on more of a women’s role in the community. It is their role to uphold the culture while the men’s role is one more centred on modernity, which includes working in businesses or in the city. This is changing; however, as indigeneity is becoming more accepted and more men don their traditional clothing.

Overall, the weekend was good. The 6 of us on the trip bonded with cheap and light Ecuadorian beer (Club o Pilsener, por favour!), and cards on Friday night. Then on Saturday, we lazed around town and spent copious amounts of time at the market (all of us buying way too much!). On Sunday we hiked up the Peguche waterfalls, just outside of town, and swam/dunked ourselves in a hidden waterfall behind the main one. We also ignored signs and decided to sit right next to the main waterfall. One wrong move and we would have fallen a very, very long way down. Overall, it was a fantastic weekend and a much needed break from the bustle and pollution of Quito.

 

Family, School, and Birthdays... Oh My!

My last blog post was almost two weeks ago and so many things have happened since the:
1) I moved in with my host family on the 2nd
2) I started classes on the 6th, and
3) I had a fantastic birthday weekend on the 10-12th
Okay, so it sounds like not much but let me assure you, definitely a sensation overload of new experiences.

I'll start with my family:
I live with a single mom, Maggy, (in her early 50s) and her two daughters, Alejandra and Fernanda. They are both in their late-20s, early-30s and both are very accomplished. They both have their masters, one from the University I am going to (Universidad Andina Simon Bolivar) and the other from a university in Norway (both in social sciences). They both work for the Ecuadorian government and are fluent in English. Maggy, my host-mom, is the apartment manager for all of the apartment buildings in the complex (about 8+ 4-storey buildings). She also takes care of her mom (who is 90); she makes lunch every day in her apartment and brings me over my own dish of food. She is divorced and I believe her ex-husband now lives in Argentina. There is also a teeny-tiny Jack Russel that lives here with very coarse hair. Her name is Frida and is so full of energy, but she is currently not really eating so everyone is fussing as to why.

I have a small room in their apartment and the theme is green (green down comforter, green walls, and green curtains) and the furnishings are of dark wood. The apartment itself is pretty small and basic (probably smaller than any apartment I have ever lived in), but it is definitely the house of a middle-class family. We even have wireless internet in the house! There are worldy trinkets (from China, Canada, Europe, India - Maggy loves elephants) all over the house, as well as collections of things from around the country (like the absolutely gorgeous alpaca throw in the living room and a Ecuadorian painting in the form of magical realism (look it up, so cool!!)). The view is absolutely phenomenal, with a view of north Quito, and the volcanoes Cotopaxi, Pichincha, Antisana, and Cayambe. Normally I wouldn't be able to have such a great view but our neighbourhood (La Granja which means "The Farm") happens to be perched on the side of a mountain giving those of us who live there absolutely stunning views. So far, I love it here. The family is incredibly accommodating and have been extremely patient with my terrible (but improving) Spanish. If I have a problem with a word or getting out an idea, they ask me to say it in English, but will, of course tell me how to say it in Spanish and then respond. I am already incredibly indebted to them and it has only been two weeks.

My second topic are my classes:
I am taking 4 classes here: Spanish (makes of course) Community Development, Andean Economy, Society, and Culture, and the Ecuadorian seminar. Spanish is taught by a really patient and kind Ecuadorian named Marisol. I don't think I have ever had such a good Spanish professor, ever... She teaches it in a way that makes you want to learn (which is saying something because I am terrible at learning languages and so I dislike it) and so that you can apply it to our Ecuadorian families that we live with. We have that class 3 times a week for a total of 7 hours. There are 9 of us in the class and the other 5 are learning Kichwa because their Spanish is way better. This kinda sucks because learning Kichwa would be FANTASTIC and useful, but alas, cementing my Spanish is definitely more important.
Community Development occurs only once a week this semester, but will actually encompass our entire second semester with a 40-50 page paper at the end (which seems pretty darn daunting to me). However, this semester we are learning research methods (snores-ville because I've already learned it before) and codes of conduct for living/working in an Indigenous community (among other things). The class is taught by our two coordinators, Julie (our academic coordinator) and Maria (our program/everything else coordinator).
Julie also teaches us our Andean class. This class has been great so far, but reading heavy. She is taking an anthropological perspective to the class, as that is her background, which is interesting and new. However, I did drop out of anthropology for a reason... sorry ethnographies, but you can be really boring. To be honest, I didn't know learning about ancient civilizations could be boring until I read one of the articles. Such a shame...
My Ecuadorian seminar is by far my favourite. Dr. Pablo Andrade is our professor and is teaching us Ecuadorian Political Economy for the month of September. Although he is a staunch realist and is quite forceful in what he believes, he sat us down on the first day and told us that we are all equals, and if anything, he should be learning from us. Let me tell you, hearing that was extremely refreshing after being in university for 4 years and having your opinion rarely wanted or valued. Some of his hilarious quotes:
"Capitalism is the only economic system that humans have created that is also a virus."
"Neoliberalists say they are "realists" but they smoke pot for breakfast and are on opium for the rest of the day..."
"If you want to become a neoliberalist, simply close you eyes and repeat, 'The free market is everything, the free market is everything.'"
He had us all in stitches anyways... such a good class.
It also turns out that he is really good friends with one of my favourite professors at Dalhousie, Dr. John Cameron, who has done a lot of research here on the indigenous. On a more surprising note, he is the brother to my host-mom, Maggy. I knew they had the same last name, but just summed it up to be a common last name. I had also met her other brother (a professor of social sciences at FLACSO) and her 90 year old mother.
After I asked a question, he asked my name. When I told him, he said, "Oh! So YOU'RE staying with my sister." My mouth kinda dropped and everyone else in the class was just as shocked. It was pretty funny in retrospect though and we all had a good laugh. He now calls me "Sobrina" as a joke, which is "niece" in Spanish. When I got home after class, I told Maggy and I guess she didn't know either. I think they are a bit ideologically different in their view on politics (even in my Spanish-deficiency), because it seemed like Maggy was telling me that he can be great in family dynamics, but as soon as you start talking about politics with him, he comes extremely rigid.


The third topic is my birthday:
My real birthday was Monday, September 12th, but since Monday is an extremely lame day for a birthday, I spent all weekend celebrating!
On Saturday, after a leisurely morning, a few friends and I decided to head back to Old Town. We had been there before a week earlier, but since we needed to do something, it seemed like a great idea. We ate a DELICIOUS cafe and wandered around, observing and taking in the sights. On of our observations was that if you look like a tourist, you stick out like a sore thumb. There was a couple that had backpacks on their back and the man had a large camera. They were also dressed in shorts and T-shirts, and in the modest country of Ecuador, especially in the Sierra (where we are), showing off skin is really not a good idea. Especially not a good idea because Old Town is the number one place to be pickpocketed, after the trolley. After a few hours of wandering, we headed home to get ready for our evening. Brittany and I (the other birthday girl) decided to have a joint birthday party and our first night out in Quito. We ended up being a little late and so we all met at a cute little cafe, where we were greeted to a roaring rendition of "Happy Birthday!" We then proceeded to eat pizza and drink pilsner (pee-water describes my sentiments on that one), and have a fabulous time chatting and laughing. After the bar closed, we decided we should check out the tourist bar zone. This was a bad idea as none of us had a good time because us girls were being jostled around and cat-called everywhere, and the two guys were frustrated by attempting to protect all of us. Ah well, the first part was really fantastic, and the second part was something we needed to experience, if only once.
On Sunday, some of the group went on a hike up Volcan Pichincha, but the rest of us were still recuperating so we decided to go to the Equator! We caught the city bus there and about 45 bumpy minutes later through North Quito, we had arrived at la Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World). We spent a good portion of the time taking silly pictures of us at the equator, but Lonely Planet told us that one of best things to do there was actually hike up to the volcano crater overshadowing the valley. We booked ourselves onto a tour, and hoped on a bus that would take us most of the way up. The bus ride had spectacular views of the valley but what we had forgotten to do was bring hiking boots. As we hiked up, we realized quite quickly that Birkenstocks and sandals are not ideal hiking up a mountain shoes. Our guide was great though and gave us a bit of a background on the plants in the area and of the Kichwa traditions surrounding this sacred place. We first trampled though long grasses, then brush, and finally, the path opened up onto a giant crater with tiny little farms way down below. It was breath-taking and spectacular, despite the 400m drop down off the ledge we were standing on.

Welcome to the Pululahua Crater! One of the largest inhabited active volcano craters in the world. Yes, I did say active... This volcano blew itself apart a thousand years ago or so, and has since been inhabited. The crater has its own micro-climate and is home to a bunch of endangered species. The soil is also extremely fertile so the people who live here grown some pretty fantastic crops of avocados, corn, and other crops. A few years ago, this volcano started to grumble again after being dormant for a long time and has since been closely monitored by the Ecuadorian government. We had a quite peaceful, and awestruck half hour up there with ended with our guide playing to us and the ancestors on his painted ocarina as a prayer of thanks. It was a very beautiful and ethereal sounding instrument, that could easily pull you into meditation. Overall, a very rewarding experience.
On the way home though was a different story. We stayed later than we should have at the equator, and the sun was already setting by the time we left. The bus ride home got increasingly darker and the tension grew a little more palpable. By the time we got into our area of the city, it was dark and we were disoriented. We watched our bus stop go by and the sides of the road get sketchier and sketchier. The next stop we ruled off as much too dangerous to get off at and rode the bus deeper into the city. There were a bunch of tourists on the bus so we decided we would get off with them, and catch a cab from wherever we were. The tourists all got up and got ready to go, and so did we. The next stop arrived and the 5 of us girls thought that everyone was getting off so we did too, but as we did so, we heard one of the tourists say, "I think we get off at the next one." Everyone else that had been on the bus with us promptly dissipated and the bus rumbled on, leaving us mostly alone on the side of a very busy freeway. We crossed the pedestrian overpass the oncoming traffic where we decided to we would catch a cab. We waited and waited, but all the cabs that passed us were full. We finally spotted and empty one, but another woman jumped into herself and we were left again. We tried fruitlessly for another 10 minutes and it was getting pretty hopeless. More buses pulled up and dropped people off and they too dissipated, leaving us in a thick cloud of black diesel fumes. Finally, we spotted a cab, and we all jumped into it, squashed in the back seat. I initially thought, "Wow, that wasn't so bad. We got out of a sketchy area completely unscathed." What I didn't know until the next day was that there was a group of 6 young men, that had got off their bus on the opposite side of the road and was bee-lining their way across the freeway to us. We caught a cab just in time, but only one person had noticed them. If we had waited at least another couple minutes, who knows what would have happened (and at the very least, we probably would have been mugged).
There are a few important lessons to be learned from this:
1) Leave in the daytime and leave enough time for you to get home in the daytime,
2) Remember landmarks around you bus stop so that you know when to get off,
3) Don't get off in a sketchy area, wait until you get to a big station or mall,
4) Have a few people hailing a cab, but make sure you have a few people watching the rest of the area around you, and not just one person by accident.
These all are common sense, but honestly, when you are under pressure and stress, that goes out the window. Luckily for us, it was just a close call. Hopefully next time, we'll have more common sense...

On a more relaxed note, my real birthday was uneventful with Spanish class and homework. Two of my friends took me out to cake and my parents called me, but other than that, it was pretty darn quiet (which was perfect!) Thank you to all the well-wishers though who did wish me a Happy Birthday. It was VERY much appreciated as I am very far from home.

I hope you enjoyed the latest slice into my life. I am leaving the city this weekend with a few friends to go a few hours away to a city called Otavalo. Hopefully, there will be another post shortly thereafter. :)

Reflections

This is the view from one of the many windows in this small, but beautiful corner apartment that I have been graciously invited to live in for 4 months. Although there is a security guard whistling into the dark at passerbyers on the grounds below, I feel at peace here. Tomorrow is Monday and the last day before classes start on Tuesday. It feels weird that I haven't worked for three weeks at a job, which is the longest stretch I have been without a job in 4 years. However, this has definitely been the right choice for me. There have already been complications on this trip and I expect there will be many more, but I have never once felt that I should not be here. This is where I was meant to go and experience living in another country, another culture, and another language without it being a vacation. I feel I am ready to experience life as it is with an openness of heart and an openness of mind.

Over the last few days, I have experienced many unique experiences, like taking a packed trolley where you barely have enough room to breath, attempting to dance salsa and merengue but realizing my body has no rhythm, exploring a city that has an older history than the country I am from, slowly understanding a diverse language day by day, experiencing a culture that incorporates indigenous history, language, and knowledge into it, and most of all being a minority. That word in itself is terrifying but also rather intriguing. The word signifies that we are not like most of the people here, which is very true. We may have different realities but I think this is a chance for me to learn about different ways of living and viewing this world we all share. Already, I have experienced a community that is willing to teach you about their culture with incredible patience (which includes laughing at your mistakes).
However, I feel the hegemony of American culture is alive and well. Although, the country has evolved from the neoliberal age into one that is more left-wing, American culture still has its presence. It is visible in the stores I see on the street, the food in the grocery stores, the cars on the road, the "go-go-go" attitude, the mentality behind the country's economic progress, and the very fact that my host-mom can understand English and her daughter's are fluent in it. This has helped me a lot but at whose expense? Probably no one directly that I know of, but it is a reality that you have to be aware of in International Development. I am studying it because I am from a country that benefited from the colonizer, my history is one OF colonizers.

Although I was born a privileged person, I feel it is my calling in life to understand others realities and to use the resources I have been given to help them create "Sumak Kowsay" ("the Good Life" in Kichwa). This years trip to Ecuador, although not perfect, is my first step to trying to understand different realities, hopefully this new lens will help me see the bonds that tie us together as human beings, and the bonds that tie us to the entire world around us.

On another note, I feel like my family here has incredible similarities to my family at home (even though I met them 3 days ago). My language skills may not be strong, but we are able to communicate and share laughter at the same things. No matter where you are in the world, laughter is a tool that can bind people together.

Worries and Fears

I move in with my host family tomorrow and my worry and nervousness have come back (appetite = gone). I will not be able to understand them very well and speak even less. Even though this is a period of transition and improving my Spanish was one of the reasons I am here, it is still freaking me out. I like to talk and communicate, and so the next few weeks with be extremely hard, especially when whether or not I have wireless internet is up in the air. I also feel a little home sick too due to my increasing culture shock, so I wish there was something that could remedy this.
A few people have asked if I could take more pictures. This I really wish I could do for you guys. However, it is seriously dangerous. White people already have a giant target on them for having lots of money and flaunting that I have a camera is one of the last things I want to do (The last thing is to flaunt my laptop). I will try to take pictures when I can but until I feel more comfortable (if ever) there won't too many pictures.
More in depth, Quito is the most dangerous city in Ecuador, followed closely by it's next biggest city, Guayaquil. It is huge (2 million people) and there is lots of crime, especially directed at tourists. Saying this, we in Canada always laugh at tourists when they wear their backpacks on their fronts. However, this is a reality for even the residents here. If you are carrying anything valuable in your backpack, you wear it on your front.
There have been instances where people have been followed out of banks and robbed, especially white people. Today, we went to take out a large sum of money from the bank and we had to duck into a bakery because we thought we were being followed. You always go to the bank in AT LEAST pairs but I think that even freaks us out. There has also been an increase in express kidnapping in Ecuador, specifically Quito. This has happened to an American this last month where he was kidnapped, brought to a bank, and told to give all of his cards and information to the kidnappers. He hesitated on the PIN and was burned.
This is just some of the information that we have been told in the last few days. Hearing it once is enough to freak you out, but we have been told it three times (not including our orientation in Peterborough). I am tired of being scared all the time but this is the reality we have gotten ourselves into. We will come to be able to live with it but I am sad that this is the reality here.