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Another spectacular morning high up in the Andes…

Cerro “Cubilche” with the majestic “Cayambe” on the background…

Buenas Tardes from Zuleta!

Three cheers for the first week of trekking, which began after a packing/ cleaning intensive on Tuesday morning. Once fully prepared, heavy packs ahoy, we set off on our first trek to a nearby town called Pifo, where we caught a bus. We arrived at Otavalo, one of the biggest and oldest native crafts and food markets in the Andes, at around three in the afternoon, and were welcomed by a gorgeous hostel (with hot showers!) and a wonderful city and market square to explore. We then sat down for an involved presentation about Ecuadorian anthropology, and the effects of constitution which the country renewed just weeks ago. Our lecturer, Ivan, was full of knowledge, and served as a great resource for us all. Following the lecture, we gave our meaningful thanks to Ivan and his techie (his über-computer-savvy eleven-year-old son) and went out to town for an amazing dinner of local sandwiches, almost like elaborate hamburgers, and some seriously yummy pie. We went to bed full of food and anticipation.

On Wednesday, we awoke at five-thirty to see the setting up of the city market, pack our things, have a lovely breakfast, and throw our packs on again for another day of trekking. We boarded a bus to the Cascada de Peguche (The Peguche waterfall), very sacred to many of the local people. Having found the source of water for the surrounding communities, we decided to scratch the original, road-based route we’d decided on and rather began to follow the water canals, eager for a little adventure. We were soon trekking about the countryside, taking a long route around Mount Imbabura. It was especially interesting to look at the surrounding mountains after our anthropology lesson, during which we learned some of the nature-based beliefs of the native people. As I looked around myself, I began trying to figure out the genders of all the mountains, as the natives would. According to them, each mountain is either male or female, and within each male mountain, there is a female portion.

Exploring the Peguche waterfalls…

We finagled our way quite a bit, wandering through numerous beautiful pastures filled with women farming in wind and dust in well-kempt dresses, babies thrown over their backs. It was a hot afternoon and our feet moved heavily forward through fields of crops and animals such as horses, pigs, and sheep. Finally, we descended into a city, from which we took the twenty-minute bus ride into San Clemente. By that time, it was early evening and we were anxious to meet the families with whom we would be staying for the following three days. Soon enough, a troop of local men and women arrived to take all of us in pairs to their homes. The women were dressed incredibly, as is the custom in this region; they were bedecked with tons of gold beads, and sported matching skirts and blouses, which were heavily embroidered and colorful. Extremely tired from our hard walk, we gratefully joined our new families for dinner, and eagerly hit the hay.

The following two and a half days were spent learning about the daily lives of our new community. From forcing ourselves to learn more Spanish to applying our minds towards the art of speaking Kichwa, it was a struggle for many of us to find a way to communicate effectively with our families. Luckily, in my house, I was able to translate for Dylan and Novi. In other families, however, such as Scott and Katie’s, the Spanish-English dictionary was commonly used. By default, all those who were behind in the Spanish department began to pick up on things via mistakes; one example was Scott, who accidentally told his family that they had named their dog “floor” in English, and had to find the words to explain that the word he truly meant was “shadow.”

On top of language practice, we found ourselves immersed in our families’ way of life from morning till night. With the help of our house “mamas” (as they are called in Kichwa), we spent hours embroidering blouses, a skill at which these women are immensely practiced. We also took several mornings to work in the fields, and I personally have never experienced anything like plowing a field on my own with a pair of bulls, yelling commands out to them in Kichwa, or spending hours planting corn and fava beans. These were all group activities, which happened roughly between the hours of eight and five; the rest of our days were filled with time to spend with our families. This, to many of us, was the most valuable part of our stay in San Clemente. It was truly refreshing to feel so at home with our temporary mothers, fathers, siblings, and farm animals. Perhaps the most thrilling experience I’ve had yet was waking up early with my roommates and our mama to milk the cow and prepare breakfast. Marcianna and Samuel, on the other hand, had the opportunity to slaughter and pluck a chicken alongside their family. It was lovely to have these opportunities to work, as our hosts were of the nature to be overly hospitable, setting an amazing example for us as to how happy and generous people can be even though they own so little. For example, in many of our homes there was not enough space for all of us to sit down to eat. Regardless, our hosts would not allow us to refuse the seats and massive portions of food that we were offered. After each meal, the majority of us nearly had to waddle back to our rooms out of fullness. We soon learned that in Ecuador “a little bit” translates to “fill my bowl entirely.”

Planting corn and beans… good minga in San Clemente

By the time Saturday approached, we’d all grown very close to our families, and were reluctant to say our goodbyes, pack up our gear, and head off down the road again. After taking some photos and saying our many thanks, we finally had to accept our departure, and were soon heading uphill through the light rain, up the face of Mount Imbabura. We didn’t have much time to think about leaving, as the rain got steadily heavier and the weather steadily colder. After four hours, we arrived in a teeth-chattering state about halfway up the mountain, and hurried to set up tents and start a fire inside a handy little hut we found. After changing into dry clothes and slowly bringing all our body parts back to a functional state, we ate a small dinner and had a long meeting, as the hard day had invoked all sorts of feelings.

We took Sunday morning somewhat slowly, lapping up the time to repack, eat, and sleep in a little. Then we were off again on the long trail to Zuleta. As has become a tradition on all our hiking and climbing days, it began to rain, and the group became a little grumpy. I, personally, was having a hard time of it, and was not able to change my outlook until I had an intense conversation with Mathias, who helped me realize that I was merely causing myself misery. The down atmosphere of the group continued, however, until we completely lost our way and were forced to bushwhack our way down a mountain, at which point our situation became so ridiculous that we all cracked up and began singing a repertoire of songs from The Lion King in high pitched voices. That changed the day for all of us; suddenly, we were up for anything, and we hiked the last two hours to Zuleta in good spirits.

A well deserved rest on the “pajonal” of the Paramos

We arrived there well into the evening, very soaked and muddy, and were extremely grateful to be welcomed inside by German, who will be guiding us in our leatherwork here for the next three days. German and his wife, Carmita, had already prepared supper for us, which we thankfully ate, and then went straight to bed.

This morning, the group got up feeling sore but emotionally better due to the change of attitude the previous day. There is a lot awaiting us this upcoming week: leather work, glacier school, and much, much more! Stay tuned, until next week…

This was your weekly Kroka news!