A lot of the last week has been devoted to work--getting samples ordered and approved from a new artisan, writing bunches of e-mails and reports, new procedures and making hiring recommendations. Today we decided to not even open that Pandora's box and had a nice time thinking and wondering about future possibilities and which ones hold energy for us. It's something we haven't done often, but now are getting into it. Afterwards, we had our daily prayers and walked to town to take the bus to Cotacachi. Otavalo, where we currently live, is situated between two sleeping volcanoes--Imbabura and Cotacachi--they are the legendary "pachamamá" and " taita papá" of the indigenous Quichua people. Papá Imbabura has been sleeping for the last 8,000 years (a mere nap in geologic time); Google says mamá Cotacachi last erupted in 1955. (Other files say she is dormant.)
The day was perfect--clear blue skies with fluffy white clouds, date palms glistening in the sun. We stopped in the Plaza de San Francisco to view the market and look for our friend Cristhián. Not finding him, we stopped to talk to (and buy from) a vendor of crepes named Alfonsina. She is from the area, but ten years ago she was living in Germany and married her husband from the Netherlands. She did not know how to make crepes then, but her husband taught her the recipe. Nijnegen is one of only two places which Vincent has visited in the Netherlands. She was remarking what a small world it is. We said to ourselves, "It's even smaller than that."
On the way into the town from the bus station, we encountered a couple whom Vincent had only the day before found in a Facebook group from Cotacachi. He recognized them on the street! We had a very nice chat with them, got the name of a good immigration lawyer, walked on to the plaza and saw a woman buying crepes. She recommended them as delicious and Susanne talked with Alfonsina while Vincent talked with the gringa. She was from a small town in Ohio near Cleveland, practically next door to us. It came out she had close family from Dublin, and she'd connections in Cork as well. She also gave us the name of an immigration lawyer who could help us get a permanent resident visa. Everyone was so friendly today. We went to look for the tourist office and encountered a nice woman in a hostal who told us the office was closed on Sundays (contrary to the Lonely Planet guide's information.) Something we are hearing from every direction is that everything changes in Ecuador (particularly immigration rules), so we were not too surprised.
We stopped in a large square to listen to a local band playing lively South American tunes which we recognized. They seemed to be high school and college age, all dressed in black and swaying in time (about 30 of them). We reflected on the loss to North America of community live music, something which used to be traditional in every town on a Sunday afternoon, but now very rare, supplanted by electronically disseminated music performed by professionals. It used to be that one played an instrument and played whenever a group could assemble in the community. I suppose garage bands have taken that niche in musical ecology, but I remember listening to the bands in the park on Sundays in Riverside, California, and how much fun they were for everyone, young and old. You didn't have to be a rock-and-roller or a techno fan or a Beethoven admirer to enjoy that music. So music has gotten more specialized, more professional, and more remote from people's experience--it is "pure" now, divorced from family and friends, the private preserve of a very few. It feels sad.
By contrast, the joy of the musicians in the park was clear. Have we traded joy for perfection? A poor bargain, it seems to me.
The first couple we encountered in Cotacachi are working in an indigenous community, volunteering their time to teach young children English. We were very impressed with their respectful approach to the culture of the Quichua.
As we approached the bus station to return home, whom should we spy but Carlos and Sulema Pastillo, our friends from Peguche. It was such a delight to see them, and they were happy to see us as well. They invited us to come see them again, and we promised we would. So many kind faces today. We feel like we spent the day with friends, even though all but Carlos and Sulema were strangers. How strange, yet wonderful, are the ways of Providence!
No comments:
Post a Comment