Camino Antiguo

There was one day I left early for the control and took my poncho, as it was raining in the village. I walked up higher and higher and became more and more irritated as my hands stopped working on my bastons and it was too damn dark to see them. A little further up I remember thinking that I had holes in my poncho...then I realized it was snow! I was walking slower and slower by now the realization definately chilled my nerves a little. I was worried becuase if I turned around now...I was going to be damn cold by the time I arrived in the pueblo...but if I kept climbing I would stay warm as I entered colder and colder air. Then in one of the curves I saw a weak light and about a minute later I heard the distinct buzz of moto. Slowly Klebber approached me. I wave and he stops...what luck. "ESTA NUBLANDO!" he shouts and we are off. But it was difficult to get going as I weigh one an a half of Klebber. Then once we get moving the moto dances in the slush from side to side under the top heavy ness of two people...one burly gringa and one built indigeno. I cling to the seat and squeeze my knees to his pelvis while I also grab his shoulders...sincerely frightened I hunch behind his smaller frame as the snow cuts my face with its tiny crystals, but I know I have to hang on with my hands that I can hardly feel.

"I have to match his hip moves and leans in the corners...or we go over... and be damn ready to protect my face and head when we crash"... I think to myself. "Man! I should have just kept walking, that would have been the smart thing to do...."


It was strange to feel the fishtailing of a smaller moto as it swims beneath you and a friend. At the control Klebber yells, in English no less "Oh My GOD!!!" Beating his arms "SHIT!!!" really good English. He is frustrated with the cold.

Later he told me that he HAD fallen off earlier when he first hit the snow above the pueblo. But still stopped to pick up the big gringa girl.Here he is bringing a new born calf back to the village from over 30km away. It is tied to his waist. I have a lot of appreciation for the park gaurds. They really helped me out alot...

Later the bus passed and I got in for the run to Cayambe. But we arrive at 6 so I slept there along with most of the passengers waiting for my appointment, an interview with a NGO at 8. After the interview there was still time and nowhere to go...so back to the bus...to wait for the one return run of the day. We do one loop no more, no less. So there I sat with the driver and his friend, sharing orjitos (small sweet bananas) and mani (peanuts). We chat about US, Europe. He slyly takes my phone to get my number but is offed by the menu in English. We decide to go to lunch, the driver, a friend and me. They swagger as they strol, two handsome indigenous men with a tall gringa in tow.

Everything was quite nice until we arrived at the restaurant. Something about a gringa sitting with some of the most handsome dark men in the place obviously irritated the young women who were serving us. First only two plates for three people was all we got. They were completely cold by the time the thrid arrived. But still only two sets of silverware. I felt extraordinarily uncomfortable...We finally finished our cold plates and payed. I tried to make some pleasing comment... saying that the food was quite rich. But you really cant shake the racist looks. I dont know maybe it was all a natural accident but it felt extraordinarily racist.

But its just like that sometimes huh? I notice it. The Spanish are gone but the social stratification is emaculately intact....maintained by Ecuadorians themselves. But day by day it gets weaker, and indigenous movements are rising again in Ecuador.