The most you need it, the least likely that you will get it

I will be in Mexico for a few days. I am going to present a paper about remittance houses in the 53th International Americanists Conference. I am a Spanish citizen. Thanks to my passport I do not need visa to get to Mexico. I will board a flight that will leave me in Mexico in four hours (with midway stop in Panama for price reasons). At the same time, people of my same age in the village I currently live in are risking their lives to get to Mexico. Ecuadorian citizens do need a visa to get to Mexico. As Mexico is acting as the US entrance guard, poor Ecuadorians do not usually get a tourist visa for Mexico. Their journey to the US becomes harder and longer. I cannot help but feel odd. Nonetheless, it is the lucky oddity. Of the person who was born on the right side of the border.

MTV meets the Andes

Some weeks ago I attended a 'fiesta de quinceañera' (fifteen year-old birthday party). It was a Saturday evening. I skipped the first part, the mass in the main town some kilometers ago. In fact I had a very good reason not to attend the mass (beyond my feelings of having attended enough masses for the rest of my three next lives since I am in Ecuador).

The invitation card arrived over a week ago. It was a lovely bright pink card, girly beautiful. It stated the party will start at 8pm at the 'local de la Junta de Riego' (Water Board premises). Obviously they forgot to mention it was at 8pm 'Ecuadorian time'. Meaning nothing happened before 11pm!!!

The premises were decorated with pink balloons, gift wrapping tape, and some sort of glittering fans on the walls. The place of honor was marked with a bow of balloons. As soon as I arrived I was motioned into the room, not before I was invited to a shot of home-made sugar cane liquor. If anyone is interested, it tasted like someone with a hot and sharp knife stirring your guts. But not such an awful sensation in the cold night. It warms you up very quickly. As soon as I was into the room I found myself (and this is the part where the MTV meets the Andes more powerfully) with a plastic dish full of food. Potatoes, rice, roast quicken, a big chunk of cuy (roast guinea pig) and mote (hominy). As you can see all very Andean.

The party was carefully planned. Before everyone was allowed to dance, the court of honour (fifteen boys and girls) performed the program they have been rehearsed the previous weeks. In fact it looked like a proper wedding (a bit too pink for my taste) with a tiny bride. The ritual of becoming a woman (as the whole party was about it) was in fact quite elaborated. First of all, the godmother of the quinceañera changed the girls' slippers for high-heeled shoes. (Yes I also thought that the wedding pink dress did not match the slippers, though they were pink as well). Then the make-up, and the jewellery. One of the strangest moment took place when one by one each of the boys in the court of honour, took off a suspender from the girl’s leg and put it into their partners’ legs.
The best part was the last dance of the court of honour: a techno pasodoble. I swear I am not making this up. I loved it. Maybe I should try something similar in Spain. Wait for the next summer hit!
Afterwards, the DJ played music and people started to dance. Very few people at the beginning. The feeling was very weird because everyone was sitting around the room intensely looking at the dancers. I felt too aware of my poor dancing skills. However quite a number of people thought was very interesting trying to make the gringa dance.

Right outside New York

I come from Europe, that for the record is somewhere in the outskirts of New York city. For most people here world geography is extremelly simple. Either you live in any of the quarters of New York (and they know with astonishing accuracy their names and locations), i.e. Queens, Manhattan, Bronx, Brooklyn, etc. or you live farther or nearer away from it. In short, the world is basically New York and its outskirts. It is funny how information filters all the way from New York to this little Andean village. And how it is distorted in the meanwhile. By the way, I love the way they call New York. 'La yony'. I have no idea who was the first person to call it like that. It comes from the sticker 'I♥NY'. And it is widely used in Andean Ecuador, especially in the provinces of Cañar and Azuay. These two provinces, with a shared cañari past (group who inhabited this area when the Incas from Peru arrived), have been sending migrants to 'la yony' for over three decades. And the flow is far from over.

Andean funerary rituals

Death is not a sad thing in the Andean cosmology. One must party to help the dead people in their journeys. Death is just another part of Life. Like nature, or energy, nothing ends, it only changes.

Last week (it seems so far ago, so many things happens to me here every single day!) I attend a funeral. The behaviour of the priest to me was unacceptable. He did not even make the effort to know the name of the dead people. Specially when he gets well paid for his services. Relatives must pay not only for the mass but also for a private car to bring the priest from the town he lives in. And he does not go up to the cemetery for the final pray. It is outrageous. The scarce dealings with the Catholic church are the most difficult part so far.

After the mass, things started going surreal. The path to the cemetery is partly destroyed after the rains of the last months. Mingas (communal work) takes place in this path quite often, but the path is still quite non-drivable. There was no way of taking the coffins up to the cemetery. They need to wait for a 4x4 car to be able to take the coffins. Nonetheless, no one was mourning at the time. There was an ice-cream vendor with his brightly coloured car and people were happily buying ice-creams. When I got into the cemetery, there were two men playing instruments. They were playing funerary hymns, however they could not help but sound as gipsy music. Quite happy in fact. Once inside the cemetery everyone sits down and start chatting to each other. It was a hot day, and people (including myself) were trying to protect from the sun with whatever piece of cloth we have. We looked like resting members of a funny circus. After a while the relatives of the dead person started going among the people offering coke, sprite, tobacco and liquor. Every one started drinking. I was encouraged by some old ladies to try the liquor. I needed to mix it with coke in order to finish it, so strong was it. It was really easy to forget where I was, with old tipsy ladies making jokes next to me and I myself holding a glass of coke with liquor.

No need to say, the cemetery was full of people!

Settling down

It is difficult to believe but everything is going better than I ever dared to dream. I started teaching English to the kids of the village. People seems to be very grateful for that and very willingly answer my questions. They are also very demanding. I kind of understand, but at times it is difficult to balance my limited time resources and their demands. I guess it is my fault, as I always try to prepare as much as possible everything I do. What means time.
I never thought I would ever enjoy teaching to young kids. But in fact I am really please with them and with myself. I don´t know why but the kids really really want to learn. They even ask for homework. In the last class they started clapping when I told I have some homework for them. Can you believe it?

Currently I am working on some workshops for the adult population of the village. It is been really hard because I want every side (i.e. they and me) to get something useful out of them. Just to anticipate that one of the workshops involve some food! I will tell you more about this very soon.

We (well, mainly he) are recording the traditional activities that people still do in the village. He has made some amazing pics, and I sure there are more to come. I am so happy he has found his way, and he is really enjoying the whole time.

The family we are living with (a grandmother with her grandson) are very sweet. The lady is an amazing cook. Last week she even taught me how to make bread. Bread in Ecuador is far more elaborate than in Spain. The dough is made of flour (here they call it 'harina de Castilla', Castile flour), butter, salt, sugar (salt and sugar is a very common combination here for lots of different meals), egg and cheese (I am probably forgetting something). As you can see, our daily life is really pleasant, both in terms of the research but also in terms of the personal life. Every time we go out for a walk we ended up talking to lots of different people. I think I have never had that much social contact as I am having now!

Back in Ecuador!

Life is a funny thing. One never knows what it is in store. Two days after landing in Quito, I found myself eating pan amb tomaquet (bread with tomato) and dancing Sardanes, traditional food and dancing from Catalonia. By chance, we discovered there is a 'House of Catalonia' in Quito, and we phoned out of curiosity. We found ourselves drag into a series of events and celebrations the day after the phone call. Arnau is delighted with the coincidence.

Leaving aside this anecdote, things are working more or less as planned with the fieldwork. Apart from an annoying misunderstanding about the visa register procedure that will force me to go to Quito to avoid being fined. It actually involves a 10-12 hour bus journey (if no roads in the highlands have been damaged due to the rainy season), and a 4-6 day stay in Quito, right after entering the field. Hope it will not complicate things further.

I must confess I am actually enjoying myself. The weather is wonderful, the landscape is beautiful and people are nice and polite (although I anticipate it is going to take a while to go beyond that politeness). We have even run into a person we met while we were in Cuenca last summer! It was such a nice surprise.

The next days are going to be essential, and I going to negotiate my entrance to the field. At this point, I wonder why textbooks and articles always skip this part. The researcher is either about to enter the field and planning, or s/he is already in the field. I think they have missed such precious days in between. I will tell you about my experience soon.

Ecuadorians in the UK

At the time of my trip to Ecuador, the drafting of the new constitution was the topic of much discussion in the media. News came daily from Montecristi where the constitution assembly worked long working days to be able to deliver a final draft by the agreed date. Concepts like 'buena vida' or 'justicia indígena' were welcome by many and regretfully dismissed by others. Ecuadorian migrants abroad were also present (as the Quinta Region represented by the migrants’ assembly members). The hard-line of the Catholic Church managed to make its voice heard using the non-existent mention to the legality of the ‘abortion’. The internal divisions within Ecuador were once again present (Guayaquil vs Quito; Nebot vs Correa).The 2008 Ecuadorian Constitution was approved.

The day of the referendum I happened to be quite far away from Ecuador. It was a chilly Sunday morning leading to an exhausting sunny afternoon. Outside Uganda House, round the corner from Trafalgar Square (London, UK). September 28^th. Ecuadorians living abroad are entitled to vote (as long as they are registered with the embassy). Some of them did, others (rightfully) could not be bothered. In the Ecuadorian consulate in London only 321 people voted (out of 877 registered ones, i.e. 36%); 75% of whom backed the new constitution. I (along with two other PhD students) spent most of that day handing out a questionnaire about the political behaviour of Ecuadorian migrants. Results were also collected in Italy, Spain, Mexico, and the US, for a ‘transnational’ initiative led by Italian sociologist Paolo Boccagni. Data will be processed in due time although the low numbers will not allow to make any generalisation.

The consulate gates were very busy on the day of the Referendum, as the people from ECA (Ecuadorian Community Association) were also collecting data for the ‘Ecuadorian Census in the UK’. It is an amazing initiative, organised by amazing and really welcoming people. Acknowledging the huge vacuum in the information regarding Ecuadorians living in the UK, the people from ECA set up a census to shed light on the numbers, personal features and work characteristics of Ecuadorians living in the UK. It is really thought through, and it can even be access online, so if you are an Ecuadorian living in the UK or know anyone, please register (it is anonymous). It can be extremely helpful to obtain information about the kind of difficulties Ecuadorians living in the UK are experiencing, as a first step to tackle them. This is the webpage:

Primer Censo Ecuatorianos en el Reino Unido

You may also want to have a look at the webpage of the ECA (Ecuadorian Community Association). It is a clear and well-designed webpage with lots of useful information:

http://www.ecuadorian.org.uk

Food (part II)

The ciusine in the Ecuadorian coast is very tasty. It relies on fresh fish caught early in the morning (you can see the housewives and the cooks buying it early in the morning in a colourful noisy show).

The best known dish is ceviche. In Europe the kind of ceviches we can find are cooked in the Peruvian style. There is always the discussion about which country owns the authorship of this dish. Ceviche is in fact a way of cooking using lime, red onion, tomato and coriander, all them finely chopped. I have tried all sorts of ceviches, every place seemed to have their own way of preparing ceviche. There are ceviches of prawn (camarón), fish, clams (concha), crab... The ceviche de camarón is by far my favourite (better even with a freshly cooked chifles - thin slices of plantain deep fried in oil)
After two spectacular failures (one of them involving a large part of my partner's family) it seems as if I've come up with the right recipe. I have doubts about how ortodox it is, but in fact the outcome is really succulent. I've got the recipe from the blog of a female Ecuadorian migrant in the US (http://laylita.com/recipes/). It is worth having a look around as it is packed with beautiful pictures.

Another of my favourite Ecuadorian coastal dishes is fish in peanut sauce. I ate it in a small restaurant in the touristic village of Puerto Lopez, and it was absolutely delicious in its simplicity (no photos of it I´m afraid as the street lights went off at dinner time, as usual).

Food, of course, what else? (part I)

Ecuador is geographically divided in three well differentiated areas: the coastal stripe, the Andean highlands and the Amazon. Unfortunately I have nothing to say about the food in the Amazon as I haven´t been there yet. The foodways strictly follow those physical divisions. Available foodstuffs are very different, even the staples. Rice is the key food everywhere, as a cheap and nutritious side ingredient.

But let´s start talking about food in the Andean highlands, far less interesting in relation with flavour than its coast counterpart, but more symbolically loaded.

Corn is the symbolic foodstuff par excellance. There are lots of different kinds of corn, many different ways of cooking it. Chicha is an alcoholic drink made of corn (originally chewed by women in special occasions, but not anymore), locally produced which is consumed in a number of special events. Morocho is another drink made of corn. It is a warm sweet milky drink incredibly comforting in the cold Andean evenings. I am still wondering how it is actually made. It seems every family has its own way of cooking morocho, and they keep it secret!

Bananas are another staple, both in the Andes and in the coast. It can be stewed, fried, boiled... It is incredibly versatile, especially because there are I don´t know how many different kind of bananas (most of them unknown in Europe). In this photo one of my favourite: patacones, smashed and fried plantain.

Talking about symbolic Andean foodstuffs, cuy is a must. It is guinea pig roasted and marinated in a redish sauce.

In this photo, a mixture between coast and highland dishes: encebollado (a tasty fish soup) and chaulafan (that reminds me of a hybrid between Chinese rice and paella).

to be continued...

That is not the solution

Guayaquil, the second biggest city in Ecuador. The place where inequalities are most obvious. New white walls of the Las Peñas quarter try to hide reality. Poor, dirty houses. Mr Nebot is trying to create an irrealistic oasis poverty-free, crime-free, dirt-free, ... That is not the solution. Conceling dirtiness, poverty and crime does not make them disappear. I was even told off twice for taking my shoes off by a nice policeman. I wonder if there is nothing else they can be work for, apart of telling off hot and tired tourists.

Some outrageous photos:

Green Gold

The province of El Oro, next to the Peruvian border, is known as the 'Green Gold'. You guess why? It is the absolutely covered with banana tree plantations. The photo is blurred, I took it from the coach.



The remaining land is used as huge pools for camarones (prawns) called camaroneras. This activity seems to be responsible of the disappearance of manglares.

The coast is also far more dangerous, or at least this is the impression, as nothing bad happened to us at all. Machala is the main port in Ecuador, and as all portcities is has that mixture of cosmpolitanism, wealth and insecurity.

It´s nice to be back in the coast, after a month in the highlands. Especially because I was absolutely fed up with having rice for breakfast, dinner and supper. Food in the coast has a well-deserved fame. Lots of fresh fish and shellfish, tropical fruits, milkshakes... I think food deserves a post for its own.

Bsoque Petrificado de Puyango

Araucarias enormes (un arbol entre pino y palmera) convertidas en piedra hace millones de años. Muy impresionante.

Cariamanga, dealing with reality

Cariamanga is the capital of Calvas. It is three hours away from Loja city, and here is when I fully realise what will be living in Ecuador next year. There are none of the amenities I take for granted. Not even paved roads. To go everywhere takes ages, even if it is only a few kilometers away. There is dust everywhere. I guess I will get use to eat dust in a daily basis. This area is also quite baren. On the positive side, the views are incredible. I´ve got in love with them.

In relation with the research, remittances are the only think that can possibly supporting this booming economy in the middle of nowhere. This is the only place in Ecuador so far I´ve seen packed fruits. Houses (what I have come to call 'remittance houses') are amazing, the colour of the window glasses match with the colour of the facades! There is a lot to know in here.

My research site will not be Cariamanga itself. It is a much smaller place, but I cannot reveal its name!!! The parish priest will probably help me to first be introduced to the comunity. I hope so.

Vilvabamba, 'the' touristic place in the province of Loja

Vilvabamba is also known as the place of life forever. Villagers state it is because of the pureness of its drinking water. I doub it very much after spend two days throwing up all the liquid I put into my body. I guess the absolutely lack of stress has more to do. That stressfree life can be very stressfull for an European like me, who wonder everyday in the evening what the earth to do with my life till night time (well apart the days I spent ill, in which I didn´t think at all, it was hard enough to try to keep something within my body).

En Vilcabamba hicimos el guiri, guiri... nos fuimos de excursión guiada a caballo!!!! Y aunque las fotos tengan una pinta muy chula, no teneis ni idea de lo que duele el culo y los muslos. Y total, que a mi caballo lo adelantaban las viejas andando. Y yo me pregunto, tanta diferencia hicieron los caballos cuando los españoles llegaron a América? Imagino que los suyos correrian más que mi vago Capuchino (así se llamaba mi caballo).

Loja (city of musicians and artists, well in theory)

Loja is well-known in Ecuador as the capital of the artists and musicians. Well that is just a fame. The city is rather boring, small and boring. Maybe because I had this romantic idea about it. There is almost no research about international migration and remittances in Loja. The two universities of the city (one public, one private) are concerned with issues of agriculture and agro-business and distance education. Communications in the province are by far worse than those in Azuay. Some places are relatively close by it takes ages to get there. And not always one can get there. Research is going to be challenging here.
There is one good thing about the city of Loja: its parks. There are a lot of them, big and really neat. So, I guess I must get into sports next year!

Pues como veis ya estamos en Loja. Llueve, lo que hace que no podamos disfrutar de los parques de la ciudad, lo unico asi realmente bonito. La ciudad es muy alargada, más como un pueblo, y muy tranquila. Ah no!! miento, el domingo estuvimos escuchando a la banda municipal tocando cumbias o yo que sé que era. Para haberlo visto. Imaginaros lo entretenidos que estabamos que casi casi vamos a misa por hacer algo (pero solo casi casi!).

Saraguro (y su vinculo con Bilbao?!)

Between Cuenca and Loja city, the small village of Saraguro welcomed us with a gorgeous day.

Saraguro is the name of the main ethnic group in the South highlands of Ecuador. As with the rest of the indigenous groups in the Andes, clothing and hairdoes make the difference. Men (and this is the first indigenous group I´ve seen in which men keep up with clothes tradition more than women) wear short black trousers, black hats and long black ponchos. I know is silly but for me it is very funny the sight of grown men wearing short trousers.

Saraguros state that they are descendants of the Inca aristocracy that was moved from near Cuzco to this area in Ecuador. They are currently encouraging but they call 'communal tourism', for toursits to stay in private houses and share the daily routines of the community.

As usual, migration come into the conversation. This group has been migrating to rural Spain (Murcia, Almeria, etc.) where they can earn a living working in the huge green houses.

Por cierto, la foto de aqui debajo es de la plaza de Saraguro. Verídico

El azulejo Bilbao en Saraguro!!

Giron (where fiesta lasts for month and a half!!) and San Fernando

Somewhere close to Giron could also be another of my candidates. The fact that the annual fiesta lasts for 45 days could definitely help me to make my mind.




My experience in San Fernando was short but awful. In a misty, cold, pouring evening I got to know I just missed the last bus to get out of the village. Villagers were really amused with our experience. Luckily we managed to find a taxi, and got a lot of information from the driver!!

Despues de caminar un montón cuesta arriba llegamos a una cascada impresionante que llaman el chorro. La verdad, mereció la pena la caminata. Debido a la niebla no pudimos ir a la laguna de Busa, que según los lugareños de San Fernando es digna de verse. Igual otro día, aunque la experiencia en San Fernando no fue nada agradable (sin autobus de vuelta, sin casi dinero, con frio, lluvia, en fin un éxito de sitio).

Parque Nacional de Cajas

Gualaceo, Chordeleg, Sigsig (getting closer)

Gualaceo is a town with an incredible high rate of out migration (mainly to the US). It is called the Azuay´s garden (el jardín azuayo). Still working on that, but one of the parish (this is the smallest administrative division in Ecuador) in this canton could be my home for 6 months next year.

Chordeleg is a even smalled village than Gualaceo. It is well-know for its jewelery. As most of the Ecuadorian villages (a Spanish legacy) are located around a usually very nice square and a colourful church. However, contrary to Spain, houses are well spread, so even a village has very few inhabitants, the village owns quite a lot of space.

The last village of the day is Sigsig. Very quiet, and people still look at foreigners as aliens from a different country! Nonetheless, I must say in spite of their puzzlement they are extremely polite, saying us good morning whenever they see us.

In all the three villages, the effects of migration are easily noticeable. There are houses completely out of place, next to an old small rural house, stands a Miami-like house with dark glass in the windows. There are also all sorts of kinky stationery for graduations, birthdays... a new 'tradition' very likely to come from the US.

Ingapirca

Ingapirca es un yacimiento inca, con restos anteriores de la cultura cañari, en la provincia de Cañar. A la derecha lo que se cree un templo de adoración al sol, aunque se le denomina comunmente 'el castillo'. A la derecha la cabeza del Inca (aunque para mi que podria ser la cabeza del alemán, o el sueco, vamos). Lastima que lloviera.