view from the brim of the crater Quilotoa
On Saturday morning, after a breakfast of champions, we took off for a 5 hour hike down into the volcanic-crater Quilotoa. We started at the brim, where the small village of Quilotoa has constructed a few hostels to host the many tourists who come to hike the crater. We hiked down the very steep, very sandy, very twisty path down to the laguna. The salt water lake has no animals nor plant life and is over 900 feet deep. The water was incredibly blue, but unfortunately, the pictures we took don’t nearly do the beauty of the lake justice because it was so cloudy. When we got to the level of the water, we got in kayaks and made our way across to the other side. Those of us in kayaks were given 12 foot long oars made of solid wood, with tips in the shape of arrows, to row across the lake. Needless to say, it was hilarious. The oars felt bigger and heavier than us! The people who didn’t fit in the kayaks boarded a raft and had about 3 small plastic oars to pull about 10 people across. Between the wind and the weight, it took them about an hour to cross, so we just chilled out on the lake in the kayaks waiting for them to show us where to get off.
When we pulled up to a rock wall on the other side of the lake, we were all a bit skeptical of the practically vertical ascent in front of us. Once we all got out of the boats, we began to climb up the wall of the volcano. There was no established trail, so we were climbing through thick brush, rocks, and mud to get to the top of the mountain. I wish I were a better photographer so I could have captured how extreme this climb was because I don’t think these pictures do it justice.
For a good portion of the first stretch up, our faces were up close and personal with nature and we were using our hands just as much as our feet to climb. We finally reached the trail, which was not much less steep, but was easier to navigate. We continued to climb until we reached the brim of the crater, where we were higher than the clouds on the other side. Between the view, the altitude, and the climb, the crater was truly breathtaking, in every sense of the word!
Once we reached the top, we hiked around the brim, back to where we started. This piece of the trail was flat in comparison, but still pretty hilly.
finally made it to the top!
the fog at the top of the mountain
By the time we made it back to the hostel, 5 hours later, we were all wiped, dirty, and wet from the rain. I was so grateful for the soup and hot meal. Also, aji, a staple hot sauce eaten with almost everything, was a great way to warm up!
A few hours later, we got in the van and drove a little ways down the mountain to the village of Quilotoa Ponce, which is the community that the hostel owners are part of. There, we were greeted by many women and children and a few men of the village. One of the community leaders spoke to us for about 20 minutes about life in an indigenous community. What a different world. The conditions in this village are unfathomable. There are about 40 families who live there, each with about 8 or 9 children. Women get married between 15 and 18. By my age, many already have 2 or 3 kids. The children go to school a half hour away in a school with only 4 teachers for hundreds of students ages 6 to 12. I found it very interesting that all of the women and little girls wear the traditional clothing (hats, knee length skirts with stockings, and sweater ponchos) while the men were wearing pants and coats like we see in Quito. Many of the men leave the village to work in surrounding cities, which are a couple hours away, where they either sell the goods they grow on their tiny plots of land or try to find other work. They often stay in the cities for weeks at a time, leaving their families behind while they try to make a living. In the community, each family has their own plot of land, where they try to grow what they need to eat and sell. Often times, intermediaries easily exploit the people of the villages because they can transport good by car (instead of mule) to the cities to sell, and take a huge profit for themselves. Listening to these people speak was quite eye opening; we saw a completely different way of life in Ecuador from what we see in Quito and Cumbaya, but this is the reality for almost all of the indigenous people, save those who, due to their geographical location, are merchant or artisan communities.
The van ride back to the hostel had a very different tone than the rest. We were all disturbed by the fact that we just dropped in to shake some hands, drop off some food, and take some pictures. We wished we could have done something with or for the people of the village but also realized that there is a delicate balance between trying to help and being a huge imposition.
After another wonderful meal in the hostel on Saturday night, we hung around the dining area and danced with the family. There were about 5 or 6 teenagers, who at first were videotaping our attempts at salsa and meringue, but who we were later able to persuade to join us. On Sunday morning we took off for Latacunga, one of the larger cities in the area, to check out the market. What an experience! The market is not comparable to anything I’ve seen. There were rows upon rows of vendors selling everything from scallions and carrots to raw chicken feet and grains of every color. Then, there was a “prepared foods” section where vendors were cooking and serving to tables of families who were sitting down to lunch. After that, there were more rows of vendors selling clothes, accessories, office supplies, DVDs, CDs, etc. This wasn’t an artisan market, so most of the stuff looked like things we would buy in Target, but it was still a very different feeling. There seemed to be more people selling things than buying, but the place was crawling with indigenous people (to say the 16 of us stood out is an understatement) buying, bartering, and selling. Finally, after stopping for lunch and ice cream, we made our way back to Quito in the late afternoon. This weekend was quite a challenge – both physically and intellectually – so let me know if there is something you want to hear more about…I’ve already written so much!
For me, the takeaway from this weekend was when our guide, Clever, pointed out on Saturday that while for us, Saturday February 14th is a holiday, for the people of this village, every day is the same. Even though they are Catholic, they can’t throw huge celebrations for each holiday, nor do they ever have a “day off” from their routine. Something to consider in our very commercialized lives…
beautiful view of the mountains
Some of these pictures are creepy.
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