New Home in Esperanza de Azama

February 28^th – March 6th

     A long time ago, I (Mike) spent some weeks hitch-hiking with a friend around France.  We would begin each day having little or no clue what would happen, or where we would be twelve hours later.  It is the opposite of the organized tour where one can take pictures of ones route off the Internet before leaving home. Reveling in the unknown and unpredictable events of the days is a big part of the thrill of an adventure.

     Last Friday, the three of us woke up in a very pleasant hotel in Otavalo, having arrived the previous evening by bus, a mere hour and a half from Quito. Indeed, the taxi from our previous home-stay to the bus terminal took almost as long through the early afternoon city traffic, not least because we were taken to the wrong terminal first.  Laden as we were with all of our gear, plus a large bag of donations for the school, this was awkward to say the least.  The two taxis cost us $12.00, while three bus fares for the 60-mile ride northeast to Otavalo cost about $6.00.

Cheating a bit - this is from last July, but it does show the more rugged terrain north of Quito.

     Our plan was to spend one night in a hotel before moving into our new ‘home’ the next day – a chance to incubate a little between experiences.  A full rainbow over the Imbabura volcano seemed like a good omen for our time in this area.  By the middle of the next day however, we still had not made contact with Margot, the woman who runs the program we had come to join.  The hotel people know Margot, and they were in no hurry to push us out, so we simply enjoyed a quiet day, caught up on some reading, and speculated about what lay ahead.  Finally, a call proved successful, and Margot’s husband Marcelo came to pick us up from the hotel for the 3-4 mile ride to Esperanza de Azama, a community of about 2700 people.

     By now, some readers may be wondering about all the names beginning with M.  Monica helps to run UBECI, Marlene was our home-stay ‘mother’, Maggie runs the hotel in Otavalo, and Margot and Marcelo are our hosts here. Two other volunteers here are Monica from Mexico, and Maria from Spain. It is curious to say the least.

The main square of Esperanza de Azama - the green house on the left is our 'home'. You can just see Emma in red on the far right playing football.

     The transition from the tranquility of the hotel to the new home could hardly have been more stark, though not in an unpleasant way.  This is a large home on the edge of a small square in the community.  On our arrival, we were greeted by about ten adults whose names we are still trying to figure out, and innumerable children running around the home.  Preparations were being made for a fiesta the next day to celebrate the college graduation of five members of the community. Margot informed us that this is particularly special, because this now brings the number of people of this community with degrees to seven.  I cut up more chicken and cleaned more potatoes in one evening than I had in the previous year alone.  The house buzzed with activity, and Emma was quickly abducted by Margot’s fourteen year old daughter Nicole and other kids (they ended up watching clips of horror films on YouTube).

     By about 9:00 in the evening, many of the extended family left for their own homes, leaving a mere fifteen or so who actually sleep here, including four other volunteers (two from Spain, one from Mexico, and one from Idaho).  We had an opportunity to organize our belongings, with Emma very excited because for the first time in a month she actually had a room to herself rather than sharing with her parents.

     The weekend was spent adjusting to our new surroundings – not too hard given that this area nests in between several large mountains, most notably the Imbabura volcano (inactive).  The community itself sits mostly on one cobblestone street, a succession of small fields of mostly maize – a kind of farm-burbia.  Many of the homes bear the hallmark identity of being incomplete.  Some even have the ground floor doorways and windows bricked up as security measures as if the owners know that years could pass before they are ever occupied. Many feature a similar bay window structure that veers more towards a fortress look than something more pleasing. The ‘modern’ home look is often accompanied by a cow on a short tether in front, and there are about as many dogs as people.

     The early evening reveals an outdoor culture, with volleyball a popular game here, while families gather outside their homes and greet us pleasantly as we walk by. Some are still working – an elderly indigen couple push a barrow load of freshly cut maize along the road, while others sit by the side of the road soaking up the evening atmosphere.  

     The home lifestyle contrasts sharply from our time in Quito.  There, with the small family, Marlene cooked all our meals and we lived in a modest apartment in the city.  Here there is much more space, but also a lot more people who share something approaching a ‘commune’ style of living.  We share the large kitchen facilities, preparing our own breakfast, while Marcelo is the one to cook lunch that is the main meal of the day.  The evening is less structured, with different family members or volunteers preparing their own meals, but sharing the kitchen for conversation, card games, or, for Emma and Nicole, dance practice. It is a major shift from being at home and being torn between watching TV or doing school work.

Two weeks of laundry by hand - The Whirlpool looks pretty good now.

      At the time of posting this, we have already spent four days working in the schools here.  Stories on this will have to wait for the next blog entry.  We’re just happy we don’t have to worry about the possibility of yet another snow day tomorrow!! In the meantime, there are some mountains to enjoy.