Pampa Mesa, Rescate, Indoor, y Mucho más

June 26, 2009
Friday
9:38am
Sayausi
Cloudy, 50

This post takes place Around Town, In Cajas, In Cuenca, and last but not least, At Home. There are of course lots of pictures and videos which will undoubtedly enhance your blog experience. Enjoy!


Around Town

Missing Minga
The second or third weekend in May (the weekend after the bautizo party detailed in our previous post), Mike and I were invited to participate in a minga. Mingas are organized work days where various people from the community get together to volunteer on a common project e.g. fix a broken water tube, or fill the pot holes in a street. The word “minga” is Kichwa and is a custom that is really only carried on in the Sierra at this point.

In any event, every weekend there is a minga of some sort. In the past we have participated in a few mingas nearby. So, when we were invited to a minga by Rodrigo (my new counterpart mas o menos) we gladly accepted as mingas involve hard work but also the opportunity to get to know different people, feel like part of the community, and get to eat cold cuy from a plastic bag.

We were told to meet at Mama Rita’s house at 7:00am from which point we would walk for one or two hours with the group to the captacion (place high up in the paramo where the capture for the water for Sayausi is located) and help build a fence to keep horses and cattle away from the water source. Having arrived at the bautizo on time and then waiting four hours for the party to start we figured if we got to Mama Rita’s house by 7:15am we would still be ridiculously early but would at least be able to sleep past 5:00am. We left our apartment at 7:00am and began walking up to Mama Rita’s. About half way there we ran into Don Nestor and Dona Melchora (old host parents and sister/brother in law to Mama Rita). They informed us that the group for the minga had just left and that we could catch up with them easily. Don Nestor then gave us directions for how to get to the minga site which roughly translated to, “Go through this field, then past the other field, then past the cows, then continue up and you will be there.” These directions were to guide us through a series of low mountains with no trails and no overtly distinctive landmarks for the untrained eye. Feeling rather adventurous and up for a walk we replied, “Great, off we go.”

Within five minutes, before even arriving at the mountain i.e. still in town and traipsing through cow pasture, we were lost and had to ask for more directions. Again we got vague indications and a general wave of the hand in the directions we were supposed to go; up. This time however, we ended up on a trail: a very, very, very muddy trail. A trail so muddy, in fact, I nearly lost my giant rubber boot in its depths. Surprisingly, we have some video footage to demonstrate.

Muddy Trail

I`m Stuck

Chainsaw and Birdsong

About one hundred yards after this trail ends we lost all sign of anything resembling a trail. Luckily we ran into Yula (Mari’s cousin/Mama Rita’s neice) and her two daughters hidden in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, on their way to sacar leche from their cows. So Yula became out guide for the next 45 minutes until we arrived at the place were hers cows were (Please keep in mind that these are not lovely rolling hills of pastureland, we are walking on an extraordinarily steep hillside that for now is more forest than grazing land demonstrated by the parrots flying overhead). From here we got another general wave of the hand along with the following, “go up until the carreterra then up some more until the carreterra.” Carreterra translates to highway but is used here in any situation where there is something resembling a trail. So up we went until dense mountain vegetation blocked our path at which point we went down and up again until we did eventually arrive at the ridgeline i.e. carreterra number one.

At this point we could see some new fencing and thought we must be close as the minga we were looking for was putting up new fencing. However, after looking around for thirty or so minutes without seeing anyone we decided we must not be there yet. So following Yula’s directions and Mike’s deductions about where the captacion must be, we continued along the ridgeline, upwards.

Another thirty minutes later we arrived at a road (a wide dirt trail that at some point cars may have been able to drive on) and turned up. An hour later, leaving the treeline behind us and now surrounded by nothing but Andean paramo and clouds, we came across a motorcycle and some horses, a clue in the mysterious hunt for the minga. Figuring we must be close at this point, we followed what looked kind of like a trail down a valley and up to another ridgeline. At the top of this ridgeline we found some signs telling us we were in Minas, which is the area of captar-ing water. So I shouted for Mari a few times and hoped one of the fifty people on this minga would hear me and answer. Well, windy mountain conditions aren’t really ideal for yelling so not surprisingly no one answered.

Wind and Wave

We walked around the lakes in the area for about an hour looking for clues that might point us in the right direction but decided, as some dense fog rolled in, it was better at this point to admit defeat and start the climb back down to Sayausi.

After walking three hours up and two back down we arrived back at out apartment, tired, blistered (we were walking in rubber boots instead of hiking boots because of the mud), and confused about how fifty people who started walking just a little bit before us had been so impossible to find.

As it turns out (we later learned) the minga left Mama Rita’s house at 5:30am! Supposedly, someone had waited for us until 7:00am (which I think rather unlikely) and then left on their moto when we didn’t show up. Not only that, but the minga was another three hours hiking past the lakes where we had ultimately given up our search.

Rodrigo invited us to another minga last weekend in the same spot. As luck would have it, we had other plans.

Looking for a Minga



Madre Fiesta
The day after the minga search, my school was having a Mother party. They were celebrating Mothers, the Virgin Mother, and Mother Earth (Pachamama). Each grade had prepared a dance as had some of the parents, and all of the dances required costumes. During the dances drinks were handed out and snacks were sold. However, all of this was only a taste of what lay ahead: the Pampamesa.

After several hours of dancing, hopping, singing, and celebrating, the stage (the cement soccer court in the center of the school) was cleared and a long, narrow tarp was laid out. The tarp was about one meter wide but stretched at least 50 feet long. Once it was laid out women with giant pots of rice, mote, and potatoes approached the tarp and started spreading the contents onto the makeshift runway crossing the length of the cement court. Then came the roasted chickens, dumped onto the tarp. Then the roasted cuyes, dumped onto the tarp. Then a scattering of hard boiled eggs and lima beans followed promptly by a swarm of parents and students amid a hum of “buen provecho.”

From there it is really a blur of fistfuls of food and a light spray of rice. There were no utensils other than hands for this Sierran potluck and kids were free to plant themselves directly on the tarp and feed voraciously on the surrounding mounds of food. It was one of, if not the most incredible thing I have seen this past year. It was right out of a dream, when I was four or five years old. No parents saying to sit up straight, keep your elbows of the table, or hold your fork correctly. No, no this was about as far from Americanized table eating as you can get. I was encouraged to plop down and dig in. It was fabulous, although eating rice with your hands involved more mouth to hand contact then the CDC would probably recommend during a swine flu pandemic (yes, this happened in the height of the swine flu scare).

Then to wash down the pampamesa, several cups of juice, soda, or chocolate milk were passed around (yes, several cups were shared between over two hundred people). Again, it was fabulous and the stomach ache that persisted for the rest of the day was well worth it.

Dancing and Eating


Frog Dance

Crazy Dance I

Crazy Dance II

Pacha Mama Dance

Pampa Mesa


Buen Provecho

Who Needs Forks?

Mediano Photo Shoot
Last week I was at a meeting at Mama Rita’s house. We were there to discuss the possibility of a greenhouse and a few other proposals the group is working on. However, unbeknownst to me we were also there to take a picture for some upcoming fiestas: Las Fiestas del Mediano.

Rodrigo filled me in on the details. Apparently, when couples used to get married in Sayausi they would have a huge feast (with tables). All the women would bring medianos (a ceraminc platter) filled with cuy, papas, mote, and aji and the men would bring gallons of trago (moonshine). From there a nice meal would take place with everyone seated around a long table. Now, as times are always changing no matter where you are, this doesn’t happen anymore and many people don’t know that it ever happened. So, this group that I work with started Las Fiestas del Mediano three years ago to maintain some parts of their culture.

That night, the night of the unrelated meeting, Mama Rita and Mari were cooking up some cuyes, papas, mote, and aji for a picture for the poster for the Las Fiestas del Mediano. In the middle of the meeting we took a break and took pictures of Mama Rita, Tio Oscar, and all of the prepared food (see pictures below, one of them will end up on the poster).

Lucky for us after the meeting ended at 9:00pm, we were each given a gigantic plate of food. I managed to pick at mine politely without actually having to eat all five potatoes, half a cuy, a plate of rice, and mote. Mike, however, ate it all! Sometime gender stereotypes do work out in my favor, the only other person at the meal not to eat everything was the other woman.

Unfortunately, we won’t be in town for Las Fiestas but we will certainly get a copy of the poster!

Mama Rita, Tio Oscar y El Mediano


Indoor
Last weekend Mike brought the camera up to the indoor field to capture the indoor experience. It was raining, which is normal. There was livestock around the field, also normal. And kids walked into the game several times, also very normal.

We won 10-0 which is not normal. The ref actually called the game early because of a mercy rule. You see, last week Margarita came up to play with us, and she is the other local superstar. I am the foreign superstar and Doris, another teammate, was on fire. As such we were pretty much unstoppable, what with the passing and everything there was nothing for the other team to do.

As a funny aside, before the game started we were standing around talking and it somehow came up that we were all senoras. Doris intervened and said that I was not a senora (Doris just turned twenty last month). My other teammates said I was married and so I was a senora. Doris countered by saying I don’t have kids which makes me a senorita. My other teammates agreed at this point and decided that I am in fact the only senorita on the team. So despite being older than most everyone on my team, I am the senorita. Go figure.

Jugando


Niko wants to play

Goal Kick

Nice Left

Mary and a little lamb

Almost


In Cajas

Rescate
Cajas National Park is quite the tourist destination and as such Cuenca has many guide agencies selling package tours of the park. However, in order to guide in Cajas you have to pass a course that is offered by the park and consequently is pretty expensive. The course last two weeks and requires the guides to be in class ten hours a day. Each day a different topic is addressed. For example, birds on one day, plants of Cajas on another.

Mike was approached by the park staff to see if he would be willing to teach the Mountain Rescue portion of the class. Mike of course accepted and we began to plan a ten hour course on back country first aid. The class was held at 13,000 feet above sea level in the park at Toreadora, the most popular tourist destination in Cajas. We modeled the class after the Wilderness Medicine Institute EMT class we had taken in the states. That means there was a lot of hands on practice and the focus was on a small number of practical things the guides could do en caso de emergencia.

Activity based learning is not common in Ecuadorian culture, so the guides were both surprised by the format and, fortunately for us, completely taken with it. One participant said Mike was the only instructor during the two weeks who got an applause at every break. I guess that Masters is paying off after all.

Guias, Patients, and Llamas


Cajas Run and Photo Contest
Last year Mike and I both participated in the Cajas Run for Conservation. We came in virtually last place but still got a medal and snacks, so of course that made it worth it. Year two, however, required a more active role and we both ended up working at the race instead of participating in it. I was on the team in charge of making and then distributing the gift bags and Mike was manning a table of Cajas posters, fliers, bird guides, and the like. The latter was completely Mike’s idea as he thought if the race is titled Running for the Conservation of Cajas there should be something dedicated to promoting the park and conservation instead of just having the race and handing out snacks and prizes. After a lot of persuasion the park eventually allowed Mike to have the table, but really it took a lot of convincing on Mike’s part.

As part of the Cajas Run, which is held to celebrate its status as a protected area, there was also a photo contest. Mike was begged to enter by his co-workers at the park and at one point was in second place (the photos were judged by the same people who asked him to enter) but was eventually bumped to a lower spot. Apparently, there was some concern in the office about a member of the staff winning a prize. Either way, Mike’s photo was on display for an entire week outside one of the main ETAPA buildings in Cuenca.

The Racers y Una Foto


Cajas
A few nice pictures of Cajas, posted just because they are pretty. Enjoy.



In Cuenca

Cuenca Bus Station
For my birthday Mike and I went to soccer game in Cuenca. It was really fun and had a really nice family atmosphere, which Mike tells me is very different then the atmosphere at soccer games in Tegucigalpa.


Cuenkita
For my birthday Mike and I went to soccer game in Cuenca. It was really fun and had a really nice family atmosphere, which Mike tells me is very different then the atmosphere at soccer games in Tegucigalpa.


Cuenca
For those of you who have forgotten how pretty Cuenca is.



At Home

Below is a collection of events gathered from the steps or window of our apartment: our neighbors tending their lawn, market vendors from Canar, the local butcher, “payments” I have received for tutoring, flowers, and of course Chuspi playing with beatles and eating cuy.

Sayausi Market


Dirty Meat

Battle Axe

Butcher y Chola

Lawn Care


BBQ or Lawn Upkeep?

Fruit and Flowers


Wormy Mora

Chuspi and the Beatle


Searching the Funda

Beatle Stomp

Beatle Chase

Almost got away

Chewing on beatle

Eating Beatle

Chuspi eats Cuy


Dinner is served

Purring for cuy

Purring for the foot

Scapulicious

Chewing cuy