Una visita a la provincia Bolivar

Chimborazo, the tallest mountain in Ecuador, as seen from the  high paramo (grasslands) en route to Bolivar Province.

This weekend, I traveled with Marcia and Edison (my "Ecuaparents") to Edison's childhood home in Bolivar Province.  After nearly nine months of discussing the potential for this trip, we finally found a weekend when the three of us were available to travel together.  So, at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, we crawled sleepily into the little white Toyota and Edison drove confidently through the cold, dark morning.  Bolivar Province is small, poor, and seemingly forgotten by the government here.  To get there, we traveled up and over the high paramo (Andean grasslands), circling the flanks of massive Chimborazo Volcano where alpacas and llamas roam and the wind howls at all hours of the day and night.

Paramo.  The small structure in the distance is a choza, a traditional indigenous home.  

The paramo is a fragile and very important part of the Andean ecosystem.  The low shrubs (grama) serve as sponges, collecting the moisture that comes after a frost or from the clouds themselves.  This water then runs off of the high mountains into the rivers down below.  The rest of the cycle is quite obvious: the clean water from the paramo fills the rivers that serve the communities below, and these same rivers flow from both sides of the Andes to the Pacific coast or to the Amazon Basin.

The indigenous residents of the paramo, despite the recent arrival of electricity and "modern" architecture, still use a very efficient, although "primitive," style of house construction.  They build their chozas using tall grass (paja de paramo) and mud (barro) to build small, low-to-the-ground homes that look like simple mounds of earth from any distance.

Milk-hauling mules in Salinas de Guaranda.

Near the highland city of Guaranda lies the important experimental commercial center of Salinas.  Edison explained that a study he co-conducted while working at the Universidad Salesiana in Quito showed that just 25 years ago, the infant mortality rate in Salinas was staggeringly high.  Almost 9 in 10 babies born in Salinas died due to malnutrition or inadequate medical facilities.  A group of Salesian missionaries came to Salinas to build houses, support the population with funds and medical supplies, and, ultimately, to implement an economical model that could sustain the area after the Salesians' departure.  Today, Salinas is famous for its dairy products, chocolate, and pine tree mushrooms.  It is a tiny town, cold and hidden by clouds, but the population has access to potable water, the town is clean, and the people sell their specialty foods to maintain a reasonable quality of living.

Salinas.

Yagui, Edison's hometown.

We arrived in Yagui (which, in Kichwa, means "nose/eye of water" - there was some dispute as to which body part was the correct translation) in time for lunch (chicken soup with chicken salad and rice...man, I love rice).  Edison's mother is fifteen years younger than his father.  His father recently turned 90 years old.  Although he no longer moves the cows, tends the crops of maiz, or hauls plants up and down the mountain, he walks every day, reads anything he can get his hands on, and supports his wife's efforts with smiles and jokes.

Don Jaime and Balto, in Yagui.

Edison's amazing mother and her dairy cows.  The two young ones are only a couple of months old and are twins.  The arrival of two cows was very fortunate, given the cost of livestock in this area.

Edison and Don Jaime on the porch of the Yagui home.  This house is over 110 years old.  Now, only Don Jaime and his wife live there.  Their eleven children visit them often and they refuse to leave the Yagui home, despite the cold nights and hard living.  

The new kitchen in the Yagui home, built ten years ago.  The original kitchen  was (and still is) outside and includes a massive wood-burning stove.  Only recently did this property receive electricity and running water.  

Cuyes - guinea pigs.  These guys will be sold and then consumed as holiday delicacies.

Edison's parents came with us to La Montana, an hour to the east of Yagui, to visit Edison's sister, Carmen.  The descent to Rios Province is fast and steep, and in under an hour the climate and vegetation changes completely.  Although the beaches of Guayaquil are over two hours from Carmen's property, the climate is that of the coast: hot, muggy, and buggy.

Marcia, tentatively crossing a wire bridge over the Rio Potosi,  a half-mile from Carmen's home.

The Rio Potosi with bathers and swimmers.  We spent most of the afternoon here with Edison's family.

On the banks of the Rio Potosi: a local family watches as a gravel truck races by.
This river has been ravaged by aggressive gravel mining on the part of the Ecuadorian Army Corps of Engineers.  Now, in summer, the river is almost completely dry.  Its banks have been widened to the point of irreversibly altering the nature of the river corridor; in effect, killing the river as it was known before.  Carmen's husband, who owns a large agricultural operation nearby, protested the mining operation.  His protests were ignored.  Now, his plantain, cacao, coffee, and corn crops are starved for water and he questions the future of his operation.  Gravel mining operations like this one are so common in Ecuador that the people who bathe, wash clothes, and fish in the rivers have given up protesting.  They don't seem to flinch at the incessant lines of gravel trucks roaring by their homes and swimming holes.

Two of Edison's nephews enjoying a coastal chirimoya fruit on Carmen's husband's farm.

Dry corn stalks.

Recently-planted cacao between rows of dry corn.

A very white white girl digging for papa china, a turnip-like tuber that sells for a lot of money in urban markets.

We spent the night with Carmen and her family.  Seven make-shift beds were set up in her home to accommodate the visitors (over 15 family members...and me).  The next morning, I watched and listened as the women made tortillas for breakfast.  Tortillas (yucca, plantain, corn, or wheat discs filled with cheese and cooked on the stove top) are prepared almost every day on La Montana and served with a cup of ridiculously sweet coffee.  The craft of making tortillas is revered and respected.  And the product is absolutely delectable.

Back on Don Jaime's farm in the highlands, we ate a simple lunch, I went for a long walk while Edison  napped, and eventually we prepared for the long drive home to Latacunga.

Don Jaime and his chickens.

The property of Edison's brother, a mile or so from his childhood home.

Edison, Don Jaime, and Marcia.  This house is inhabited only during cosecha  (harvest). 

Don Jaime.

This is the arbol de las fotos.  Of course, they made me pose for a photo...

...then they asked to pose for one themselves.

This family is huge.  Between Edison's eleven siblings and Marcia's seven, there is no such thing as a "small family gathering."  I felt fortunate to be a part of this one.