Ever since my site visit, the people in my town have asked me if I planned to dance for Inti Raymi. Posters from the previous year's festivals appear in the houses of many families. Some of the first questions asked by people in the various communities where I work usually have something to do with dancing for Inti Raymi. As I explained in my previous post about the road blocks, I live in the heart of indigenous culture in Ecuador. It was no wonder that on the first day of this week-long, indigenous, country-wide festival, a moving party of townspeople passed by my house and collected the unsuspecting gringo.My understanding of this tradition is not very extensive. Inti Raymi is Quichua for 'Sun Festival'. It dates back to the Inca Empire and exists to honor the sun god Inti. People all over the country dress in what resemble leather cowboy chaps covered with animal hide, colorful scarfs, masks, and bandanas, and proceed to dance.
When my townspeople came by my house at about 4:30 PM, they had been partying for hours. We walked a few minutes to someones house where we were given ample food and drink. They explained that this party would move from house to house, dancing, eating, and drinking, until 2 AM. We would then bathe in the river and get hit by stinging nettle, a traditional indigenous bathing ritual. It either has something to do with maintaining youth or getting rid of bad spirits. I couldn´t figure it out.
The following day, a similar party came to my house at 12 noon. This time we marched to the next town over to dance in the town center. Other towns were there in a similar fashion. Dressed i
n the traditional garb, I paraded through the streets, making circles with a simple three-step dance, and yelling things in Quichua. They say a dedicated dancer will stomp his feet so hard that his toes begin to bleed, all to show the superiority of one´s own town.After about an hour, the party´s leader brought us to a bar where the dancers fed eachother and me beer, peach wine (a favorite here), and homemade cane liquor. This, they explained, helps keep the dancers more animated. The drinking lasted just over an hour, and then we continued dancing. While these Ecuadorians seem to have limitless energy for this suprisingly simple dance ritual, I had to quit early, suffering from th
e previous late night.Upon their return at about 6 PM, they came to my house to collect me again. We continued parading from house to house, dancing the same dance, screaming things in Quichua, receiving food, and again, homemade cane liquor. Puzzled as to why the residents would provide such alimento to a band raucous dancers, I later learned a visit by this group during Inti Raymi brings good spirits to the house. One must provide food and drink in return.
The dancing continues for just over a week throughout the entire region. In the larger city where I come for groceries, the proving of each town´s superiority apparently gets so dangerous that people sometimes fight to death.
I write this blog from that very town center while communities dance with the greatest of fervor. In an area not bigger than a soccer field, there are hundreds of highly armored police with gas masks in case the crowd must be controlled. I hope it stays peaceful enough.
I have heard from many that you would like to see more pictures. Picture #1: A member of my town dancing for Inti Raymi with the traditional dress. Picture #2: My family at the dinner table. Picture #3: Piglets feeding in the street next to my house. Picture #4: My little brother Francisco playing in the field outside our house.
