Saraguro

This weekend we traveled to the mountain village of Saraguro. The trip was, once again, over the Pan American Highway. Calling this road a “highway” is a real misnomer. The road is filled with large potholes and one lane is often blocked by debris from landslides. At one point I asked if you could catch fish in the potholes and was told, “Not yet!” The road conditions were further complicated by fog and rain.  For a good portion of the trip I stood in the door well so that I could talk with Arvella, Katie (our CEDEI program coordinator), and Xavier (our guide). The driver was constantly swerving to avoid the larger potholes and debris, and it wasn’t long before I was a “little green around the gills” and had to take a seat.  After more than two hours of bumping, bouncing, and swerving, we stopped for a break at a little gas station. After getting off the bus, Xavier told me that he had never seen the road in that bad of condition. We finally arrived in Saraguro almost an hour later than expected.

After checking in, and getting our room assignments, at the hostel, we met our native guide Asunción, and boarded an interesting mode of transportation called a “Chiva.” I’ll do my best to describe this vehicle, but I’m afraid that words alone won’t do it justice. Try to picture in your mind a truck about the size of a grain truck only with most of the back removed. Instead of a large bin, there are six rows of benches with a metal roof that is low enough that you would hit your head if you stood up. The sides are basically open, except for the supports holding the roof. OSHA would not have approved of the lack of side rails to keep you from falling out. The benches are made out of 2” X 8” boards with minimal padding. The backs of the benches are the same, and you sit four to a row—packed in like sardines. Those people sitting in the middle had a distinct advantage of those of us sitting on the outside because at least they had some protection from the rain. Of course, their ability to “sight see” was severely hampered.

Saraguro is known for being the best example of an indigenous tourism agency being able to promote their area while still maintaining their traditional values and way of life. The reason for our Chiva ride was to get to the small town of Gera.  Gera is a town of less than 150 families and is so far off the beaten path that the only way to visit there is if your group has worked with the tourism group to arrange the visit. When I say “off the beaten path,” it is not an understatement. The “road” to Gera is only one lane wide and is nothing more than two tire tracks through the mountains. It is strewn with rocks, potholes are common, and there are significant portions that are flooded out. The path is so narrow when I looked straight down the side of the Chiva, there was no road to be seen, just rocks and vegetation. It was a bone jarring 45 minute trip to Gera! No thrill ride at Disneyland can match the adventure of a trip through the Andes riding in a Chiva.

Our first stop in Gera was the residence of a small family that was to introduce us to “huahango.” Huahango is a local brew that is made from the agave plant. It is a beer-like drink that is quite common in the area. After a quick lunch, the residents brought out a large vessel filled with this beverage. They explained that it is to be drunk from a special container called a “dime con quien viniste.” (In English: “ tell me who you came with…”)  This “cup” (I can’t think of a better word) has one hole for filling, but two separate compartments. As you drink from the one, it refills from the second. The tradition is that once you take your first sip, you are to continue drinking until the both of the compartments are empty. Everybody gave it a try, and we managed to drink the entire pot of huahango. They told us that this was one of the few times that a group has done that! While I don’t think that the alcohol content was very high, there was something in the brew that gave all of us gas. Some of the group were pretty uncomfortable for the next two days.

After “enjoying” the huahango, we went on a short hike, in the rain (rain was to prove to be our constant companion for the entire weekend), to a beautiful point overlooking the valley. The hike was originally scheduled to take three hours, but Xavier feared that the rain would make the trip too dangerous for us. They tell us that the view from our intended destination was spectacular, but I can’t imagine that it would have been better than what we experienced. We stood out on the point in a cold rain and talked about the history of the Saraguro people.

The Saraguros were originally sent to their current location, an hour north of the city of Loja (it is thought from Bolivia), by the Incas under their system called “Mitimae,” a way of controlling “troublesome” groups. Perhaps for this reason the culture of the Saraguros has remained defiantly strong. Some say that their distinctive black clothing is due to their remaining in mourning for their old home, but a more practical explanation is that it keeps them warm in an area with an extremely varied climate. The traditional Saraguro dress is: the men sport ponytails, hats, black ponchos and knee-length black trousers; the women wear pleated black skirts, shawls fixed with a pin, and the famous wide-brimmed while hats decorated with black spots under the brim. A high-quality Saraguro poncho retails for up to $400!

 The area itself is also fascinating. The town center is of the colonial era, with many old, mud, buildings in the main plaza and streets around it. On Sundays people come from all over the country to buy and sell produce at the Saraguro market, creating a buzz in the normally sleepy town. In the villages that surround Saraguro – such as Gera, Oñakapak and Lagunas – there are great opportunities for hiking and camping.

After our history lesson, it was back on the Chiva for our trip back to Saraguro and a couple of hours of rest in our dry rooms at the hostel.

Later in the evening, we boarded our bus (we were through with riding in the Chiva) for a short ride to a weaving shop. The weaving practiced in Saraguro is different from anything we have previously seen. The Sarguros are known for their hand woven cotton fabric. The weaving is done on a large loom and is a very labor intensive process. For example, I purchased a tablecloth that took more than 20 hours to weave. When you consider that it cost $20.00, that works out to less than a dollar an hour for labor, and that doesn’t include the cost of the thread. I also purchased a rainbow colored “pachakutic.” Each of the colors in this narrow scarf represents each of the indigenous groups that inhabit Ecuador. As you travel around Ecuador you will see this rainbow design used in many ways. It is just one more example of how much the people of Ecuador value their native heritage.

After our visit to the weaving shop, Asunción and Xavier led us across the yard to the place where we were to spend the rest of the evening. The festivities began with an excellent dinner that consisted of sopa de quinua followed by the main course of pollo, mote, arroz verde, small (thumb sized) papas, and  babaco for dessert. Our beverage was horchata. Horchato is a pink herbal beverage that is served warm. It looks like Hawaiian Punch, but it has a very different flavor.  Dinner was excellent, but was to prove to be just the start of the evening.

Following dinner, four Saraguros took the stage with their traditional musical instruments and played a couple of songs for us. However, after those pieces, out came the microphones, speakers and amplifiers. For the next two hours they played some upbeat versions of their traditional music and most of the students, Asunción, and our waitress worked off their dinner by dancing to the music. It got to be a pretty wild evening before we reboarded the bus for our trip back to the hostel.

Sunday morning was to prove to be the highlight of our trip. After a short bus ride, we hiked to “Baño del Inca.” The hike to this cave in the side of the mountain was not very long (@ 30 minutes), but it was all up hill in a driving rain. The path was either a muddy strip, or wet rocks. Xavier cautioned us to be careful because the route was really quite treacherous. We were joined on this hike by Asunción’s daughter, Merci, a sweet seven year old girl who was dressed in the traditional garb of the Saraguro people. While the hike was an interesting challenge, it was not the purpose of the trip. Once we reached the caves, we participated in a traditional Incan ceremony that honors the Pachamama (Mother Earth). I have asked several people about the ceremony, and have yet to develop a clear understanding of its purpose. Some people tell me that it is a “cleansing” ceremony designed to help restore “balance” in your life, and others say it is simply a way of recognizing the importance of Pachamama. One thing that everyone agrees on is that it is not a religious ceremony.

When we first arrived at the cave Asunción spent some time explaining what was going to happen during the ceremony. At one point he and Xavier were pointing at me. It seems that I had been designated as the leader of our group, and they were explaining to the students the importance of having a good leader and following his/her example. It kind of made me worried about what was to come.  We then moved to an adjoining cave where three Saraguros had set up for the ceremony. Through a bit of pantomime, they explained that I was responsible for holding a ceremonial staff and would be the initial participant in the ceremony. We were told to think about what is important to us in our lives throughout the ceremony, and to follow along with the three leaders. Some of the highlights included:

·         Several times we faced each of the cardinal directions while the leader recited a tribute to one of the four elements (fire, water, earth and air). Each recitation was followed by a blowing of a horn made from a conch shell.

·         We were all offered a drink of “medicina tradicional”. We had been warned that this was a strong, alcoholic beverage that didn’t taste good, and that it would be an insult to make a face after drinking it. It was “served” in a small sea shell (everybody drank from the same shell). As the group leader I got to go first. The best description of the taste that I can come up with is that it was a cross between a very strong vodka and dish detergent.

·         Following the drink, one of the leaders came around and blew incense in our faces.

·         At another point the leader took a drink of an herbal potion, held it in his mouth and sprayed it on each of us.

We had been told that the ceremony would affect each of us differently, with emotions running from very intense to a kind of “so what” attitude. We had several students who were so impacted that they were crying by the end of the ceremony, while others seemed to not have any reaction to it at all. My personal reaction fell somewhere in between the two. By the end of the ceremony, I felt very calm, relaxed, and peaceful. I have to wonder if my reaction would have been more intense had I been able to better understand the language. The language was primarily Spanish with a smattering of Quichua mixed in. Those of us who could speak Spanish seemed to be more emotionally impacted by the ceremony.

There is some controversy over ceremonies of this nature. I will go into greater detail about the controversies in a later posting.

Following the ceremony, we slid back down to the bus. By this time the rain had stopped, but the combination of the steep terrain and the muddy path made it an “interesting” hike. I wondered how happy the bus driver would be about us getting on the bus covered in mud.

The rest of the morning was spent in the area around the city park. One of the things that the Saraguro people are known for is their intricate bead work. Sundays are market days in Ecuador, and there were many vendors who were selling their necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and the very fancy collars that are part of the traditional outfits that the women wear. Of course, I purchased several items for my daughter.

Following this we reboarded the bus and left Saraguro for our lunch destination. I often wonder how people find some of the places we go. In order to get to our lunch location, the bus driver drove for at least 30 minutes on another one lane, dirt road. We were out in the middle of nowhere and pulled up to what looked like a private residence. Low and behold, this was where we were going to eat. Lunch was another traditional meal that consisted of mote, papas with salsa de sambo, avas, horchata, and CUY. Yes, I have now eaten cuy, in fact I had three servings because several of my tablemates didn’t want theirs. Before you start thinking that I was over eating, think again, each serving was no more than an inch long, and consisted mostly of a very tough piece of skin and very little meat. While the flavor wasn’t bad, it certainly isn’t something that is going to become a staple in my diet. It was chewy, fatty, and didn’t have much flavor. I hope that all of my loyal readers are now happy that I have tried this local delicacy.

The rest of the day was a long, bumpy, ride back over the mountains to Cuenca.

Note: I have intentionally not provided you with translations for many of the Spanish terms. I thought maybe you might enjoy the challenge of looking them up for yourselves. Next week, I’ll post a glossary for those of you who don’t want to decipher them for yourselves.