Moving on from Quito

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Believe it or not, Wednesday was our last day volunteering with UBECI! On the one hand, our first night in Ecuador seems like ages ago. On the other, the past three weeks have flown by. Our mornings in the markets and afternoons learning Spanish certainly demanded concentration and energy. We worked at these tasks diligently, and I was almost surprised at how tiring is was by the end of our commitment there. That notion of getting out of something what you put into it directly applies in our case, as our efforts rewarded us with a sense of accomplishment. We actually helped lots of children to learn and grow, even though three weeks is really just a drop in their buckets. They most likely won't remember us for much longer. However, they enriched our lives more than they know, and we will remember them for a very long time. We feel privileged to have joined their paths even for just a little while.   

 Sadly, the end of our Quito time also meant saying good-bye to our lovely host family: Orlando, Marlene and their daughter Anita. We will miss Marlene's delicious cooking, Orlando's sense of humor and Anita's English skills. Fortunately, after this week's trip, we will see them again for one night before we head northeast. We are grateful for their warm hospitality.

 

 

Our next commitment will take us to Otavalo, which lies on our horizon. To prepare for this, and to shake off the city life in Quito, we are presently relaxing at a beautiful country holsteria called Papa Gayo. This lovely estate is located about half an hour's drive south of Quito, near the volcano Cotopaxi. They have farm animals, walking trails, bikes for rent, and even a jacuzzi. Out here it smells of soil, rain and greenery, just what I'd been craving after three weeks in the noisy and polluted city. 

 

Another feature of this haven is their selection of day trips to fantastic places. Yesterday (our first full day here), we took a trip to Quilotoa, which is a lake in the crater of a volcano. The two-hour van ride proved to be a fascinating part of the trip as we headed steadily upwards into the mountains. Breathtaking vistas surrounded us, punctuated by glimpses of the local daily life: women wearing vividly colored traditional clothing, children playing or herding sheep along the road, men constructing the new highway. We didn't even get impatient waiting an hour for the road to reopen at the construction site. The scenery held our attention, and we enjoyed chatting with our guide, Cristian, and another tourist named Letitia, who accompanied us on this journey. 

 

Clouds drift in and out of the caldera like dry ice on a stage.

 

As you can see in the photos, the natural formation of Quilotoa is spectacular in both size and sight. Many shades of green undulated across the water's surface, while reflections of vaporous clouds cast their shadows periodically. At 12,555 feet above sea level, we looked down on the lake 1,500 feet below. And so we started following Cristian down the winding path of volcanic ash and rocks. Quite soon into our descent, Letitia, Emma and Cristian got farther and farther ahead, leaving me to reassess the notion of reaching the bottom. The path proved quite steep and I imagined myself taking days to climb back up! So Mike being Mike, he selflessly stopped two-thirds of the way down with me. He wanted me to have a positive experience, and this strategy proved to be the right way to go. We started our slow ascent, alternately climbing then resting, taking in the dazzling scenery at a novice's pace. Other guides with horses passed us going down and offered us their services. We declined because even though it was difficult, I really wanted to accomplish this on my own. Breathing hard at the highest altitude we'd ever experienced, Mike kept encouraging me along, and as we were reaching the top, the other three caught up with us. Perfect timing; no one had to wait for me. By then it was about 3:00 pm, and we were all rewarded with a great meal at the restaurant back on top. Fantastico!

Emma studies geology at the Cañon del Rio Toachi

The next day was more laid-back. Emma chose to do the horseback riding excursion in the morning, and two other American guests joined her. The owner of Papa Gayo, Hilan, led this trip, which we had thought would last two hours. As they were all leaving the driveway, I asked an employee about what time they would return. He said "in four hours". OK then! Good thing Hilan gave them each a bottle of water. 

 

It was a beautiful sunny morning, so Mike and I decided to take a walk up the cobbled road. We passed big fields with lots of cows grazing, railroad tracks with a surprising bus/train hybrid that whizzed by, and a gigantic greenhouse operation growing roses of all colors. The property spanned both sides of the road, and seemed to go on forever. We've learned that these flowers are mostly grown for export to the United States and Canada, and as many of you know, they can cost upwards of $45.00 per dozen at home. Here, you can buy a dozen roses for $2.00 (yes, really).This year was the cheapest ever Valentine's Day for Mike! And those flowers were gorgeous. I believe I appreciated them even more, in fact. 

 

After returning to the hosteria, Mike and I enjoyed a couple of hours relaxing on the patio. I must admit that my legs did rebel a bit, after making them do the Quilotoa hike and then our 3-mile walk that morning. We had tea and juice, and I actually spent quite some time sketching our view from the patio. I hadn't sketched anything for years, and I really enjoyed getting back into it. I've promised myself to make more sketches while we're here. Seems like we have a bit more time now to pursue activities that fall by the wayside at home. 

 

 

Emma and the other riders finally made it back to the inn around 3:00 pm. She loved the trip, getting a chance to ride up and down hills, canter, and gallop a bit when some dogs started chasing their group!  Her legs were worse off than mine, as she hadn't ridden a horse for a year, and had never ridden that long at one time before. But the two days of sore muscles were worth it for her. Quite a memorable day in that respect. 

First Shift Completed

When we planned this trip, we had a choice to either work with just one organization for the whole time, or to split between different groups to find more variety. Variety won out, though at the cost of knowing that our contribution to each group is fairly minimal. Thursday was our last day working with UBECI, the organization that strives to proved education to the children of market workers in and around Quito. We are taking a few days off to travel (more on that later), then we head north to Otavalo to work in the next school.

For those who love children, it is difficult to resist the allure of a charming face, or the ease with which a young child can bond so easily with complete strangers. Fund raisers are well aware of this of course, hence the preponderance of the 'desperate' child gazing into the camera. UBECI have a policy of only allowing volunteers to bring cameras to the classes on their last days of working (and many are here for six months or more, typically in a gap year from college studies). Part of the reasoning is that we are there to work with the kids, not to treat them like tourist attractions. Given that, we can now post some pictures to illustrate more clearly what a day in the life of an UBECI class is like. Shown below is the sequence of volunteers traveling by bus to the market, collecting children, playing, reading, exercising and so forth. This is just one of three different markets we visit.

As written in an earlier post, it can become quite challenging to speculate about how many of these kids will benefit significantly in the long run from what UBECI has to offer. There is no way of knowing at present. Byron and Monica, the two who run the program are more or less forced to operate on a month-to-month basis, with funding often uncertain. We are left with the need to depend on hope - hope that funding will materialize, and hope that all of the efforts do indeed provide substantial benefit to many of the kids in the long term.

In the short term, there is no doubt that many of the kids are eager to attend, and enjoy the activities. They play with the toys, practice reading (in some cases), dance, sing songs, learn about physical exercise, and complete often basic but important elementary activities (such as learning numbers, shapes, or, for some of the older kids, practicing their math facts). At a time when so many people have so much to say and argue about educational policy in all its various forms, there is something very refreshing about simply being on the front lines, working directly with the kids, and seeing the gratification they get from taking a project home to their Mami's and Papi's when they return to their respective market stalls.

Election Day in Ecuador

Spoiler alert – Rafael Correa won re-election for President on Sunday. It is interesting to note that this report from the NY Times was filed from Venezuela. Our own poll was not exactly scientific, but interesting to note that all the local people I asked (about ten) did not support Correa.  Aside from a lot of flag waving by various parties in the streets in the days leading up to the election, and a warning that traveling around Quito during the day on Sunday could be difficult, we saw little about the event.  One big difference is that everybody here is actually required to vote.  Our host family traveled away to their hometown of Latacunga, about one and a half hours drive south of here so that they could vote there. People traveling to their birth towns to vote sounds quite biblical to me.

      We of course did not vote, but we did have a remarkable day nonetheless.  Our American friend Jeff who has been here many times now, and is our contact with UBECI, put us in touch with his good friend Eduardo, wife Alma, and adult daughters Saskya and Virginia. We took a taxi ride from our home to the north side of Quito, right next to the main airport (now in its last few days of service – we witnessed some of the last planes flying in and out of the airport, famous for being very close to the center of the city, and for ‘exciting’ landings or take-offs). Of course we had absolutely no idea how the day would turn out, other than that Jeff told us they are a delightful family to be with. Sure enough, the day proved to be a mystery adventure tour with surprises as every turn.

Quito airport - this  picture was taken from a main road as we drove by.

Not our picture, but it shows just how tricky the airport could be.

      Their modest home is a haven for artistic creations, with paintings and sculptures filling the rooms we saw. Eduardo, Saskya and Virginia are all genuinely talented artists. Alma may be too, but we did not see her work.  All of our conversation had to be in Spanish, so this proved to be excellent practice for us – we actually managed quite well, with the occasional help of my Dictionary App.

    Saskya still had to vote at a station right next to one of the larger parks in Quito, the Parque La Carolina which is about half the size of Hyde Park in London (so pretty big). The voting lines were slow, so Eduardo, Alma and the three of us enjoyed a gentle amble among a friendly crowd out to enjoy a leisurely day, walking, biking, eating, or watching numerous impromptu performances by comedians and the like. The most colorful character was a man dressed in exaggerated drag using his persona to sell candy – quite successfully. We also witnessed a free outdoor exercise salsa dance class with about 50 people of many ages and body types grooving along to a leader high up on a stage.  Most notable was the number of men participating, something we wouldn’t see so much at home.  Many more men take pride in their dancing here.

     Once Saskya had completed her obligation, our mystery tour began in earnest.  The three of us were packed into the back seat of an old Jeep, with no real clue where we were headed, other than that it was somewhere north.  A brief stop on the outskirts of Quito for some very tasty take-out chicken and chips provided nourishment (and sticky fingers). We crossed the equator heading north for our first scheduled stop at the Pululahua volcano. Alas, it was raining heavily with no chance of a view, so we will have to wait for another occasion to come here.

   So, it was back onto the main road and a seemingly endless climb out of the Quito valley until we reached the small town of Calacali. It does not seem at all noteworthy at first, and is not on any tourist map I have seen (it has one of the shortest Wikipedia entries I know).  In amongst a collection of half built or run-down homes however is a sweet little museum devoted to a famous Ecuadorian singer from the past called Carlota Jaramillo who lived from 1904 to 1987. There is little reason why most of us would have heard of her, but the museum (actually her old home) offered a glimpse into the life of a singer who once was extremely popular in Ecuador, perhaps in the way that Edith Piaf or Vera Lynn were popular in France and Britain. A boombox mounted on a chair played a CD of her songs as we spent about 20 minutes gazing at old photos and other momentos of her career. I even got to play her guitar that rested against her bed. Amazingly, there was no security of any kind – just an open door, and an opportunity to step back in time to another lifetime.  Sadly, her old home is now surrounded by more depressing buildings, but was well worth the visit.

 

   Around a couple of corners from Carlota’s home is the main square where we found ourselves next to another monument marking the equator.  We dutifully jumped from one hemisphere to the next, losing count of how many times we had crossed this line (five up until this day), before Eduardo took us to another friend of his who runs a small guinea pig operation, supplying what is considered a great delicacy to the local markets. I don’t suppose they have names, but we did not feel any more inclined to sample the product. The produce we did sample however was of the fruit variety at the home of yet another friend of Eduardo just a few streets away.  We sampled uvilla, chigualcan, taxo and tree tomatoes, all freshly picked from the garden - some more tasty than others. 

Chigualcan - very juicy and delicious

Saskya models the natural earring look

     The last stop on our mystery tour proved to be a small dairy farm even higher up into the mountains just a few miles from Calacali that is somehow connected with Eduardo’s family. The few miles consisted mostly of a steep climb through intensely green vegetation and what, on a clear day, would surely have been spectacular views.  Alas, the vistas were very limited, but a short walk around the farm was refreshing and quaint, with hens, goats, and dogs strutting about as they would in any small farm around the world. Imagine a small, lush field in Ireland turned about 50 degrees to the horizontal.

     It was after 7:00 in the evening by the time we finally got back to Quito.  We had spent several hours cramped in the back of the jeep, but were thoroughly rewarded by surprises, and the delightful company of this artistic family that went so much out of their way to entertain us.  Our Spanish was given a good workout for sure.  They even invited us back, so that could be hard to resist.

Thoughts on Working with UBECI

     UBECI works to serve the children of people work in three different markets around Quito. Two are on the south side of the city, about 30 minutes bus ride from the center (on a good day) while the other is in Sandolqui, a town that is about 30-40 minutes west of the city center. We see some of the children at more than one market as their parents move from one market day to another, but the flavor of each is decidedly different.

     Having spent more than twenty years teaching in essentially traditional schools in the States, it is hard not to be making constant comparisons between my experiences here and there, even though the age group here (3-10) is younger than the adolescents I am used to working with. On so many levels, they exhibit many of the same characteristics – cute, eager, loud, shy, craving attention, curious, disruptive, helpful, mischievous, and more. Some of the kids are especially eager for attention.  They will hold hands, or climb into your lap as easily as if they were your own children.  Others of course are more shy and cautious in their interactions. 

     None of this is particularly different from classes around the world, except the knowledge that most of these children have very limited and irregular schooling.  One day they may be able to join in the activities.  On other days they are needed to help with the work in the market, setting up the meticulously arranged vegetables, cleaning, or helping with customers.  Some of them can read and write at least at a fairly basic level, though most seem to struggle.  When making Valentine’s day cards the other day with the kids, there were several kids in the 7-10 bracket who needed help to write a simple message inside the card, though, enchantingly, they really wanted to express love to their parents.

     In the US, it often seems to me that the most outspoken reason for doing well in school is so that one can get into college. Thankfully, the history of curriculum does indeed go beyond this, stressing the need for literacy in language and mathematics, followed by a host of other skills such as science, health, technology, music and art. Traditional school is clearly such a grind for so many kids and their parents. Everyday I see kids for whom school is something they have to do, rather than something to value and truly enjoy.  This is perhaps inevitable given that many, if not most kids are developmentally unready to appreciate the deeper value of their education. They must rely on a good support system from their families, communities and, hopefully a strong school system to see them through to a place where they can take advantage of opportunities available for their futures.

     Here in Ecuador, with our very limited experience in the schools, it is not yet possible to pass too much judgment on what drives people to do well in school.  The 16 year-old daughter of our home stay is clearly driven to work hard, leaving home before 6:00 a.m. to travel for about an hour to her school.  Another member of the family, David, is studying biotechnology in college and is striving to become part of unlocking the secrets of rainforest plants to better serve us, without in the process causing further degradation.  Business and health opportunities abound, but it appears that there is a significant shortage of sufficiently qualified people to enter these fields.  Elementary participation is very high (over 90%), but only about 60% of the childhood population goes onto secondary school (as compared with 90-95% for the USA and the UK).  There is a great deal of pressure for children to enter the workforce, which often means working in agriculture.

     So, I look at the children in the markets, and wonder about their social mobility.  Is it really any different from what we hear about in the USA and the UK, that social mobility has diminished in recent years? That is a tough question to answer. Faced with the enormity of understanding how education for children can be improved, and to what end, I revert back to the message of the Buddhist story about a monk walking along a beach with his disciple.

“Thousands of starfish had been washed up onto the shore after a fierce storm. Stooping down, the monk lifted a single creature and returned it to its home in the sea. The disciple asked why the master did this when it made so little difference to the mass of stranded starfish. As the monk lifted another single starfish he replied,

“It makes a difference to this one.”
And he tossed it back into the sea.

Las Cascadas by Chiva-Bus

After a day of celebrating El Carnival in Ambato, Monday was somewhat more sedate for us.  Nan, Emma and I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in one of the many restaurants on the main street in Baños. It is a challenge for Emma and I to go without much of the delicious looking bread that is available everywhere, so we make so with eggs, bacon, fruit, and, after a couple of suspect attempts, some delicious juice.  We had no big ambitions for the day. The other volunteers had all left early in the morning for another town some hours away, but we were in no mood for additional travel.  Nan and Emma went for a dip in the local hot springs, but they reported not being too happy with the extent of the holiday crowds all vying for the same space.  Far from being a ‘natural’ experience of taking a dip in some rock pools, these were more like oversized Jacuzzi’s, leaving one to wonder just what the source of heat really was.

For my part, I preferred the idea of sightseeing outside the town.  Along with many restaurants and bars, Baños boasts a wide selection of adventure travel shops geared towards kayaking, river-rafting, climbing, biking, jungle tours and more. It wasn’t hard to find the tour to suit my needs, so for $5.00, I booked a two and a half hour tour by ‘chiva-bus’ to some of the local waterfalls or ‘cascadas’. So, in the early afternoon, along with about 25 others, I scrambled into the back of what is essentially a covered truck, and we ventured east out of Baños, following the River Pastaza for a few km, past a large hydroelectric dam to the first of two sets of falls we would see. It was somehow awe-inspiring to think that the water from this river would eventually flow into the Amazon. All along the route I sat in the very back next to a discotheque-sized speaker that, fortunately, played a reasonable selection of music that didn’t quite destroy our hearing. 

Our first stop at a point where the river gorge is a few hundred meters wide afforded us the opportunity to climb aboard a very small cable-car that takes about 10 minutes to cross the gorge and back. I put my faith in the safety inspectors, paid my $1.50, and ventured across with half a dozen others.  It is indeed a truly spectacular location. Most amazing of all to me was to see that despite some incredibly steep slopes on the mountains, farming was still very evident high up above the valley floor. Getting up every morning to go to those fields takes some doing, especially as I could see no evidence of any roads to some of these areas.

Another favorite activity in this region is zip lining. Our tiny cable car was quite sedate compared to the zip-lines stretched across the very same valley. I watched a couple of people do this, wondering if I could pluck up the courage to do it myself (I think I can). The valley is wide enough that the people pretty much disappear from view by the time they reach the other side.  This option was not part of our current tour, but Emma seems willing, so hopefully we will get the chance again.

The chiva-bus then travelled another few kilometers east to another set of falls. We had to walk for about 15 minutes along a narrow path through some very equatorial looking vegetation, then across a decidedly wobbly suspension bridge to view these falls, whose name I am unsure about (I don’t think they are the famous Falls of Agoyan, which are a little further down river, but they are impressive nonetheless). Even more precarious than the bridge (which is at least held up by substantial steel cables) are the flimsy ropes that supposedly protect people from falling into the gorge below.  A narrow path descends down the side of the gorge, with, on this occasion at least, dozens of people moving in both directions. I made a point of being extra careful, and soaked up (almost literally) the impressive nature of the Falls.

The tour allowed us just forty minutes before we had to return to the bus, next to which was a very convenient food stall selling fried plantain. Served up in a natural plate of the original skin with a little butter, it was truly delicious.  The return journey meant running the gauntlet of several kids determined to continue the spirit of Carnival who launched water balloons, eggs and spray foam at the tourists.  One balloon landed squarely on the head of an infant right next to me as she was being nursed by her mother, both of whom were thoroughly drenched.  Such is the way that culture is infused from one generation to the next.

Carnival Weekend

--> “It is known that the Huarangas Indians (from the Chimbos nation) used to celebrate the second moon of the year with a festival at which they threw flour, flowers and perfumed water. This once pagan tradition has since merged with the Catholic celebration of Carnival.” (Wikipedia).  This weekend, we decided to find out for ourselves what Carnival is about by travelling a little over 100 miles south of Quito to see the renowned celebrations in the town of Ambato.  We actually stayed in the town of Baños about an hour away, partly because Ambato had no available accommodation, but also because Baños is, in its own right, a town with much to offer the traveler seeking adventure and fascination. 

One hundred miles may not seem much to the European or North American traveler, but for us it involved a four-hour bus ride. The three of us went with four other UBECI volunteers, Cecile, Jill, Olivia and Madi.  Nan and I are old enough to be parents to all of them, but that did not seem to be a problem.  The coach was comfortable enough, though it did take a somewhat tortuous route through the back streets of some towns, once even taking a dirt track for a few miles.  Whether this was to avoid traffic, tolls, or broken roads was unclear, but either way, we saw much of the backstreet life, people farming small plots of land, the ubiquitous homes for ever under construction, some impoverished districts, and a considerable amount of very large greenhouses, likely growing areas for flowers which represent a significant chunk of the Ecuadorian export market.  On either side are the mountains that, at this time of year are shrouded in a constant layer of clouds, though still strangely impressive and mystical.

The last part of the journey into Baños is a long descent into a gorgeous valley overshadowed by the towering active volcano of Tungurahua (Throat of Fire). It last erupted in April of 2011 though is currently napping.  The entry into Baños passes through a chasm of volcanic rock that is impressive even in the light of dusk.  Given the earthquake we experienced this morning in Quito, it was quite a day for earth science experiences. 

Tungurahua - on arrival.

 Once in the town, we found our way by foot to the Hostel San Sebastian where we could all share a comfortable room for about $15 a night per person. Baños is a lively tourist town with many restaurants, bars, Internet cafes and a teeming street culture of performers and tourists (mostly Ecuadorian but quite a few Norte Americanos and Europeans too).  After a pleasing dinner (about $5.00 each), the youngsters all decided to crash, leaving Nan and I to watch some clowns perform in the main square and to sample a little wine while watching the street life pass us by.  Our hostel was very much in the center of town, so going to sleep was accompanied by the reverberations of much late Saturday-night revelry.  

Baños

 The next morning began with a bus ride to Ambato, a significantly larger town back up the valley we had descended the previous night.  The usually hidden peak of Tungurahua was just visible above the clouds, but thankfully still quiet. The journey took a little under an hour.  A local city bus took us into the center of town where we joined a steady stream of people heading for the main street to watch the Carnival parade.  

Tungurahua - Peak just visible.

  Alas, our inexperience meant that we did not get as good a view as we would have liked.  Every side street leading to the parade was well packed with people as eager as us to watch the events. After trying several streets, we settled on one with limited views, packed in with a hundred or so in the narrow street. The parade itself is a feast of music, dance, and numerous floats celebrating the ‘Fiesta de las Flores y de las Frutas’. Sure enough, the floats are a wonderful collection of creative displays festooned with thousands of flowers and fruits, each one also adorned by two or more beautiful young women (in this case defined by being tall and skinny, with long, dark wavy hair). Each float was accompanied by either a troupe of dancers in meticulously fabricated costumes and/or a live band trailing behind. It was a strain to see clearly, but holding my camera at full stretch has provided us with pictures and videos we can view at leisure a little later.

The compensation for limited view was participation in the crowd revelry.  The single most important possession is a carioca – an aerosol can that can unleash a stream of foam spray, effective up to about ten feet.  I dread to think about the carbon footprint of this habit, but there must be millions of them sold during Carnival each year.  Nobody is really safe, especially if you are seen to be carrying one of the cans.  Being a white tourist also makes one a target.  My vantage point for the parade was tightly packed in with a group of ‘lads’ armed with their carioca cans and fortified by a rapidly diminishing case of Pilsner (this was 10:00 a.m.).  Foam fights break out with increasing frequency, and at no time can one be considered ‘safe’.

Ammunition dumps cater for new supplies!

Our relatively poor viewing spot meant that we did not stay for the whole parade (which went on for about two hours), so we wandered along other streets where there was plenty to watch – vendors, street artists, and children constantly lurking with their carioca cans. The Carnival is officially a four-day event, with live music, dances, parades, bull fights (which we declined), and exhibitions all on offer.  We spent most of the rest of the day around the main square of the town joining with thousands of others simply soaking up the atmosphere, and periodic fights with the foam.  I took to carrying my can ‘holster-style’ in my pocket, and developed a quick draw technique whenever threatened.  However, it is hard to retaliate against a three-year old girl brandishing a carioca, firing left and right from the protective comfort of her grandmother’s side.

We returned to Baños in the early evening for a quieter (and delicious) meal there, still on the alert for guerilla carioca attacks. Appropriately enough, a local band played a considerably extended version of Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side.  Doo, de doo, de doo, doo de doo doo, de doo, de doo, doo de doo doooooooooo.