El Páramo

Living over 2500 meters in a country where altitude completely determines climate and environment, I have the privilege of reaching really high altitudes and completely different environments with moderate effort.

This weekend I went on an excursion to the Páramo. Best described as a high-altitude grassland, it resembles the Tundra in many ways but the actual snow. It begins at about 10,000 feet, and is covered with tall grass and not much else.

Waking at 5 AM, 3 American friends, 5 Ecuadorian men, and I walked for about 7 hours while donkeys and horses carried our things. Before entering the official Cotacachi-Cayapas Reserve, we passed a few isolated houses located at about 10,000 feet. As you can see, these houses are constructed of wood or packed earth walls with straw roofs. It is comforting to see that globalization has not reached at least this tiny sector.

Note about our guides: This excursion was set up by a volunteer who works with this company on ecotourism, so he knew all the people accopanying us. When we showed up at their house at 6 AM, they had been up all night drinking and were singing songs with their arms around one another. Instead of hurrying to ready the horses, they jumped onto our pickup truck and began searching for the bottle of whiskey the volunteer had promised to bring. Upon confirmation, they began the process of preparing to leave.

We began so early in order to enjoy our time in this unfrequented place. After setting up camp at 2 PM, a heavy fog and light rain rolled in (as often happens on top of mountains, where rising air is forced to condense). The afternoon was spent playing cards, placing layer upon layer of alpaca sweater on our bodies, and walking around. Careful not to walk far, many people have gotten lost in the fog and vast uniform space. Here I show our camp when the fog weakened for a few fleeting moments. As you can see, the Páramo does not lend itself to biodiversity.

Differences between American and Ecuadorian camping: Americans carry gear on their backs, while Ecuadorians commission burros for the job. Americans carry lightweight stoves, mostly dry food, and a limited fuel supply. These Ecuadorians carried a full-size ¨cocineta¨ with 2 large burners, an entire tank of gas, an entire uncooked chicken, multiple pounds of beef, and lots and lots of potatoes. These differences of course have to with availability of certain foods and equipment.

All in all, it was a great trip. The 9 of us all sat in the largest tent late into the night making soup from chicken, potatoes, and minimal spices, while telling stories of the Duendes. Legend has it a group of lepers lives in this territory. If you camp too close to their land, they play an intimidating warning song. No Ecuadorian on the trip hesitated to affirm that they were real and they had heard the music first hand.

Basic Kichwa

Pronounced Keech-Wah. Every town meeting is conducted in Kichwa. Little kids lie in my hammock and laugh at my pronunciation. I am unable to communicate with some older people by language barrier. I miss many jokes when socializing.

For these reasons, I have been attending a tri-weekly basic level Kichwa class. I am here to help these people the best I can. After three months here, I see that to truly connect with them, I will have to speak their language.

Kichwa is indigenous to the Andean mountain people. It is spoken in Bolivia, Peru, Colombia, and Ecuador. There are two main ways of writing it (reflected as Kichwa and Quichua) but the permutations go far beyond those two. It is now spoken with intermittent Spanish words picked up upon the arrival of the conquistadores. Hacienda, basura, plastico. It does not contain the vowels E and O. When speaking, the accent is on the second to last syllable of the word.

As previously reported, it neither sounds nor is constructed like Spanish or English. For example, English: One, Two, Three. Spanish: Uno, Dos, Tres. Kichwa: Shuk, Ishkay, Kimsa.

While it is very different than any language I had previously encountered, it breaks down pretty simply. Many concepts are explained by connecting two basic ideas. Good: ali. Bad(or Not Good): mana ali. The key will be in the vocab.

Ali shamuksha. Ali chishi. Ñuka shutimi kan Jacobo. Ñukaka Ecuadorpi kawsani. Payka kaypi kawsaymi ali kan. Payka autobusmi kimsata shamunurka. Ñukanchik runakuna kanchik. Payka shuti mamami kan Sarah Jane. Payka shuti taytami Don Eduardo. Hataripay. Tiaripay. Kankuna blogta killkakatinkichik, mashikuna.

Welcome. Good afternoon. My name is Jacobo. I live in Ecuador. Life here is good. The bus came at three. We are human beings. My mom´s name is Sarah Jane. My dad´s name is Don Eduardo. Stand up! Sit down! You are reading my blog, amigos.

Garden Update

I spend a few minutes each day tending to my garden. Considering I had little to no experience before arriving here, things are going well. Radish, beets, carrots, lettuce, onions, zuchinni, cabbage, swiss chard, broccoli, cauliflour, basil, cilantro, sweet peppers, peas, and three types of tomatoes are squeezed into about 3x10 meters.

In training I learned about organic fertilizers, compost teas, BIOL, pesticides, etc, and have implemented many here. So far the only problem has been white flies on the zuchinni. Here I show an LL Bean boot next to a cauliflower plant. (Note for scale: This boot has 6 grommets.)

Inside the greenhouse I have put anything that climbs, so the peas and tomatoes. They are beginning to show flowers, but alas, the humidity fogs the camera lens.

My first harvest included 14 radishes and few leaves of basil. Most other plants should be month yet. Soon I will have fresh tomatoes and basil for pasta sauce, zuchinni for zuchinni bread, and cucumbers for pickling. Closeup of colorful beet leaves.

I am in a unique agricultural situation living on the Equator. Full sun, no frost, and moderate rain all year round. Once this garden begins really producing, I won´t have to go to market for vegetables.

Rollercoaster of emotions

The vocabulary for our feelings during the different stages of Peace Corps service is spelled out for us early in training. The concept of an ¨emotional rollercoaster¨ has been thrown around a lot lately among the volunteers I spend time with.

Frightened: Running among a frantic crowd from tear gas bombs released by the policia in order to control the Inti Raymi festivities.

Accepted: Dancing in circles with bandanas hanging from my pants pockets, playing guitar while others dance around me, serving food, and passing around used soda bottles full of moonshine until the early hours of the morn.

Bummed: Left my only and favorite baseball cap in the back of a pickup truck. Found the driver the next day who said someone must have taken it. Outlaw Productions hats are hard to come by in this country.

Lonely: Not finding the energy to dance day and night for an entire week, unable to understand those who continue, I miss my family, friends, and own culture.

Embarrassed: Passed on the one street in my town by those heading to the day´s Inti Raymi dances, I lied by saying I could not drink due to parasites in my stomach. (I do, however, most likely have something living in there.)

Integrated: An Ecuadorian restaurant owner asked me from which part of Ecuador I was from. No joke, even with my blonde hair and beard.

Gluttonous: Eating more than a few servings of ice cream and french fries, drinking more than a few Cokes and beers.

Knowledgeable: Helping train the new group of volunteers on organic agricultural practices. I surprised myself about how much I know.

Successful: Having found multiple surrounding communities, I taught them how to make a compost pile, and was emphatically asked to return and teach more about manure teas, BIOL, and organic pesticides.