Rediscovering Ecuador

One of the volcanoes surrounding Quito

I would go back to Ecuador in a flash. Peru may have the legendary landmarks, and Chile the better wine, but Ecuador has an infinite variety of appealing, otherworldly qualities. Straddling the Equator and set in a true Tigua artist dreamscape with snowy volcanoes all around, much of the country is situated at 9,200 feet above sea level where the air is ethereal and delicate.

       I once went on a micro-mission to the top of the Pichincha volcano in Quito. At the summit I was rewarded with a charming little café that had vast, panoramic views of the city.  Oxygen came ready-flavoured in intriguing potion bottles, capitalising on the exoticism of oxygen deprivation in an amusing and imaginative way.  

       It is my father’s family that has connections with Ecuador.  My godfather fell in love with the country, married an Ecuadorian and had a daughter who subsequently became my goddaughter. As a language student, and looking to polish my Spanish, I had left London in search of the true Ecuadorian experience. 

Kids watching a parade in Pomasqui

Pomasqui, the rural town outside of Quito where I was to spend the next two months with my relatives, was far enough from the city for the surroundings to change dramatically. It was beautiful, with gently undulating mountains and crystal blue skies, but it was dirt poor with a marked lack of picture-postcard charm. Our jeep – cerulean blue, rusting and with dents like a golf ball – seemed to suit Pomasqui better than it did Quito.  For one thing, it was the only type of vehicle that could tackle the terrain, which consisted of 1:4 gradient hairpin bends that made the engine groan and sometimes stall, dust clouds, loose rocks, stray dogs and quantities of sand. Only the men were capable of driving it, although most had no form of license.  The buildings were basic, made from crude bricks and clay, with stairs on the exterior and furniture only of the utmost necessity.
 

In the months that I spent with my Ecuadorian relatives, I discovered that rural communities have a culture of their own. It is not a frivolous or glamorous one, but it is one that has a deep-rooted and enriching personality, embodied through its inhabitants.  It dawned on me that, unlike so many festivities that have been beautified to satisfy the insatiable travellers amongst us, the customs and traditions in rural areas exist solely for the pleasure of the local families.  Bull fighting is a longstanding and popular activity but few people will have ever encountered the exciting local variations and shocking customs that would make British Health and Safety shudder.

Befriending a local is the best way to find out about excitements like these and thanks to my familial connections, I was duly invited on two occasions.  The setting was a dusty paddock on a hillside, encircled by jeeps and trucks on which sat entire families.  Multitudes of passionate villagers shrouded every inch of the surrounding vicinity, piled high on or peering under wooden fences and standing on cars. Hordes of men, some as young as ten or eleven lingered and cavorted around the crude ring, tantalising the bull mercilessly, leaping up wire fences or rolling under cars when it turned to attack. My goddaughter Isabella turned to me when her uncle leaped into the ring and said ‘No quiero que le mate a Julio’ – I don’t want it to kill Julio.  I shivered and thought the same thing.  
 

Pomasqui bullfighting

 Julio and I first met when we were just nine years old. We were at a wedding and dressed in matching little green outfits, he was pageboy, I was bridesmaid.  There was a pleasing symmetry in the fact that, over a decade later, we were re-introduced in Ecuador at another wedding. A local tradition is to play games involving the bride and groom and all the young single men and women in the room. As one of the singles, I was prodded forward to the front with some other anxious girls while Julio begrudgingly joined the boys.  The game, from what I understood at the time, involved naming items in a category with the intention of finding one boy and one girl who chose the same item as the married couple. These two poor souls would be singled out – pun intended – and after the ceremonial removing of the garter from the leg of the bride, the groom handed it to the single man to put on the outstretched leg of the single lady. There was some embarrassment, but more than anything, there was lots of laughter, as is customary with so many Ecuadorian traditions.
 

Ecuador is a country that in many ways has it all; mountains, islands, rainforests and an extensive coastline with industrious fishing villages, popular retreats, serene beaches, prize surfing breaks and bustling ports.  I fell in love with Montañita – a lively coastal town, full of local families and tourists alike, seafood restaurants, clothes stalls and a plethora of kitsch souvenir stands.   Nevertheless, what appealed to me most was the sense of culture that erupted as the evening drew in.  Children were in abundance and yet the atmosphere wasn’t raucous or tiresome; you’d see them bunched together in the trailer of a jeep, or munching happily on meaty kebabs from street vendors; little girls squirming in the evening heat as they had their hair braided; tanned youths darting in and around traffic with a deflated football. A fusion of latino music followed us down the coastline, sometimes harmoniously in sync with neighbouring venues, other times not, but always demonstrating the wonderful flavour of the region.

Antonio - our guide around the Otavalo countryside

I had it on good authority that for an entirely different perspective of Ecuador, I should visit the Imbabura province, home to one of the Indigenous communities that live about two hours north of Quito and famous for its fabulous Otavalo crafts market.  With some friends I’d made locally and an escort trio of a father and his two sons, our party skirted the market and embarked upon a six-hour horseback trek into the surrounding bush. We clambered up steep rocky outcrops at 45 degree angles and galloped down into the depths of valleys.  But the steeds were sure-footed, robust creatures and had their noses pointed in the right direction.  Our guide Antonio’s two sons weren’t much older than eight and ten but they rode bareback as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They belonged in that environment, as wild as the horses and uninhibited in issuing commands.  Their father – strong, silent and impressive in his presence – wore a leather jacket and a white panama hat; he seemed to blend into the surroundings.  We rested under the enchanting arbol de la vida – the tree of life – gazing in awe at the valleys below and feeling at peace with the solitude of the outdoors.
 

After the immensity of the countryside, it was refreshing to spend a bit of time in Quito, Ecuador’s capital city, known throughout the country for its revitalising juxtaposition of the old and the new.  Quito Antiguo – the old town – features a melange of Colonial and Gothic architecture with mazes of winding cobbled streets that both dazzled and confused my untrained eye.  Smiling pproprietors in doorways offered me hot cocktails of Vino Hervido – an infusion that translates as Boiled Wine and which inexplicably tastes of feet, Chicha – a brew from fermented maize produced by the process of chewing the corn and spitting it back into the concoction, or Canelazo – made from a selection of more agreeable ingredients and a little sugar cane alcohol to help it down.  Tunes I vaguely recognised from the guitarra clásica drifted out of nearby restaurants where pensive diners smoked cigarillos on balconies, surveying the alleys from above. At night, the atmosphere would intensify; aged, stony plazas charmed us to concerts al fresco as everyone relaxed from the flurry of the day, drifting into a metaphorical and literal Adagio. By day, the plazas would transform into a hubbub of entrepreneurial duelling with the young seizing their first money-making opportunities with nothing more than a rag and some shoe polish.  

Quito Antiguo

In stark contrast, Quito Nuevo is the heart of all things youthful, fresh, and forward-thinking.  Here people opt for speed over leisure and La Ecovía is your 25 cents’ worth of discomfort.  Translating roughly as the Eco-Route, ‘La Ecovia’ is essentially a bus that runs off electricity produced through overhead wires and is a regular and reliable alternative to driving.  Overcrowded and with an ever-present risk of pickpockets, it is both a nightmare and a saving grace for travellers.  In a short space of time you can reach any number of large shopping centres, full of contemporary retailers, cafes and ‘Gadgeteers’ who delight in promoting the latest handset, sim deal or laptop.  Throngs of nattering teens converge in the cool interiors, tapping away on their cell phones.

Back in Pomasqui however, life is simpler; less hectic; more rustic.  I’ll never forget meandering my way up the hill to visit the Grandmother; high-fiving the tiny dark-haired children that played in the road with the dogs; nodding at the old man who swept his yard every morning.  Their lives were without luxury but they were content to make do with what they had.  It was humbling to watch.

My time in Ecuador taught me a number of things.  I learnt about priorities, that money isn’t everything; it never will be because there will always be people who exist and prosper without it. I learnt that family life, while not without its hardships, gives Ecuador so much of its culture.  Most of the values and customs I encountered stem from that unity. And I learnt that you should set your sights higher and further in order to truly scratch the surface of this country.  Guidebooks will direct you to the country’s most glossy and impressive locations, but so much remains beyond that, best to be discovered yourself. Whether it’s enjoying a moment of sheer culture-guzzling indulgence, like paying for fruity oxygen, or a chance encounter with a local who has a wonderful story to tell – these will be your timeless souvenirs.

Nyakatakura Orphan Girl

 

This is a painting I did a few years ago of an orphan girl at Nyakatakura School in Uganda.  She was the youngest and shyest in the group but was happy to just sit surveying everyone else. All the children wore these pink dresses and despite the Equatorial heat, they all had little pink Macs.  I used watercolours to paint this picture once I got back to England, although my inexperience with the medium meant that they came out at a consistency somewhere between watercolours and acrylics! I'm quite happy with the outcome and attempted another in the same style, but unfortunately used the wrong paper so it didn't quite match this one. 

Check out more of my artwork at http://glilyart.deviantart.com/

Photo(s) of the day - Thursday 3rd March 2011

Alberto Giacometti was an artist I studied in my early days at school. I think I was fourth form, so that would be aged 13-14.  We were doing a clay based project and I remember being fascinated by the elongated and emaciated figures that Giacometti sought to produce. In terms of artistic representation, he didn't seem too tricky an artist to mimic, allowing for finger and thumb rolling of the clay for the long limbs, and small squashed balls for the heads.  Ten or so years later in life, I found a perfect and much more inspired way to recreate Giacometti's work, in a photo-scape that lent itself to the artist's unique style. 

My interpretation of Giacometti art

True Giacometti art at the Tate

Photo of the day - The vast world of proportions

Photo taken in Cornwall

 

I took this photo looking back up at the top of a ridge where this monstrous cloud had risen up, dwarfing my friends.  I love the contrast in size and the effect of the light and how the cloud has just turned everything else into insignificance.

Photo of the day - Saturday 12th Feb 2011

The road is long and arduous for a ladybird

Seen crawling along the bench in my garden.  What I liked most about this shot is the angle.  It appears that the little fellow is trudging along some rugged terrain with mountains in the background, but I was actually facing the camera directly down at the ground so it is the tiled floor you can see. He was moving so slowly that it seemed to take forever to make progress so I had plenty of time to snap this shot.  Why crawl when you have wings?

Photo of the day - Monday 7th Feb 2011

Spring has Sprung - The first flower in our wintery garden

After a relentless winter, with snow that lasted for months, temperatures that rivaled those of Moscow and long, long hours of darkness, I literally couldn't wait to photograph this brilliant blue botanical gem when it stuck its delicate head out of the earth this morning. It can be forgiven for tucking it away again shortly after - I don't think I'd like to sit out in the garden for too long just yet either...