I spent the week Jan 18-27 2012 in Guaimaca, Honduras, with another member of the Boston group working on a drinking water system for 3 villages outside the town center. Unexpectedly, the people and politics aligned perfectly for some big steps forward.
The group's focus to date has been on the technical aspects of the work, with a goal of getting something in the ground. I have been one of the few concerned about management, since drinking water systems in developing countries are famous for being technically successful but failing within a few years for human reasons such as: users don't pay, they hoard water, water boards don't keep up records, etc. Then, when the system breaks, there is no money or community will to make repairs and the community reverts to the 'caudillo strategy' - go ask the mayor to fix it.
To get permission from Engineers without Borders to build the system, we are required to do all we can to ensure this doesn't happen with our project. A key reason for my hopping into this trip was to share this message with the communities: until you form a water board, set a sustainable tariff, and sign a project agreement, we can't move forward. Fortunately, the Mayor agrees with this strategy. (Here's where the local politics come in: the mayor now owns land in the furthest village and wants to have the electricity and water get there. His holding has also given him the opportunity to see first hand how water-poor the villages are. We can work with his motivation - it seems to me rather like the situation in Boston, where the current mayor's neighborhood is the one with lots of new trees, buried power lines, and well-paved streets).
But - how to get the commitment of users and the Water Board, without someone there overseeing the project on a regular basis?
Luckily, we have found some human resources in AHJASA, the Honduran Assn of Water Boards. Thanks to Sr. Maria Ceballos, our local project champion, we have enlisted the services of Tomas, a Caritas community worker. And the mayor designated his community development person to be the project contact.
At our first community meeting, 50 families came mostly on foot and bike over rutted dusty roads to the school, where we gathered outside because no one had found the teacher with the key. My colleague Bill described the status of project design and I started in on the management pieces needed before we build.
Suddenly, up drives the mayor and his community development fellow, with refreshments. The mayor has tremendous power in the community and the respect of all. We all stood and applauded, and he started right in on his constituents: ' It's embarrassing that US people are coming here to help, and you all are just fighting amongst yourselves instead of thinking about the whole community. And families are hoarding water so that others don't have access to it. How can you say you can't afford clean drinking water when you pay 3 or 4 times as much each month for soda? Why is that some members of the Water Board haven't paid their bill in over a year?' And so on.
Then, he ran the election for the new Water Board. Position by position, 3 people were nominated, made very quick speeches, and the mayor went around to each person asking for whom he or she wanted to vote. In 25 minutes the communities had a 7-person board, mostly young and willing, and 5 of them women.
The next day, the new board and 20 families gathered again to hear from AHJASA, and the final day, the new board showed up at City Hall to pressure the mayor to spend money on the community and Water Board training offered by AHJASA. The mayor promised to consider their request and it seems he understood that the costs of training may be essential for the long-term sustainability of the system.
As the outside group, we agreed to a phone meeting twice monthly to update all parties on the status of work. All of us ave much work to do, but I feel for the first time that if the stars continue to align and we all keep our commitments, we have the makings of a long term success.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Boston Globe article on work in Ecuador
Article written for Boston Globe Passport Section: http://www.boston.com/news/world/blog/2009/06/in_ecuador_citi.html
Monday, June 8, 2009
Written May 27
The American flight to Miami this morning was cancelled (a common occurrence according to the hotel bell captain), so my final day in Guayaquil was spent in a Hilton Hotel bubble. According to Frommer’s, it’s the best in the city: shampoos, soaps, etc., pool and sauna, restaurants and a mall, and wifi. The room is a shock after my quarters this month: air-conditioning so ferocious that I open the windows to get some warm, steamy breezes, marble bathroom with about a dozen sample size soaps, shampoos, and creams, hair dryer and iron. Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis are playing in the restaurant. My first hot shower in Ecuador is a long one with the realization that if we only had cold showers, we’d save a lot of water. Ironically, the one thing I miss from Raquel’s house is a TV. The one here isn’t working, and I would have spent time with a movie in English. And more irony: when I go out this afternoon for food for the plane, there are no little markets along the side streets; instead, it’s a hike to the giant mall with a supermarket. But I confess that after many hot, busy days without a lot of comfort, the Hilton feels great for a day.
I leave Ecuador thinking I’ve done well for the Observatory, if only as their calling card to organizations that wouldn’t otherwise talk to them, and for myself, in seeing a way to learn and contribute. I’ll be working long distance with Raquel to finalize the project report and design a 3-year project for citizen monitoring groups, as well as looking for a way to advance my Spanish.
I also came to an important realization this month about the inexpensive bananas that I buy in the US, almost all of which come from Ecuador. The result of my buying them is more poisoning in the drinking water of 3 million Ecuadorans. Why? Because there are no controls on the pesticides and fertilizers used in the industrial plantations here, and plantations use lots of chemical, including ones no longer allowed in the US and Europe. Because the runoff goes directly into the rivers of the Guayas watershed, which is also the drinking water source for towns and cities in the lower Guayas region. Because cities and towns don’t have treatment systems to remove pesticides and other chemicals. Because I don’t want the bananas on my cereal to hurt the Rodriguez family with whom I stayed, and my other Ecuadoran friends and colleagues. Luckily there’s an alternative: organically grown.
Cheers,
Claire
The American flight to Miami this morning was cancelled (a common occurrence according to the hotel bell captain), so my final day in Guayaquil was spent in a Hilton Hotel bubble. According to Frommer’s, it’s the best in the city: shampoos, soaps, etc., pool and sauna, restaurants and a mall, and wifi. The room is a shock after my quarters this month: air-conditioning so ferocious that I open the windows to get some warm, steamy breezes, marble bathroom with about a dozen sample size soaps, shampoos, and creams, hair dryer and iron. Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis are playing in the restaurant. My first hot shower in Ecuador is a long one with the realization that if we only had cold showers, we’d save a lot of water. Ironically, the one thing I miss from Raquel’s house is a TV. The one here isn’t working, and I would have spent time with a movie in English. And more irony: when I go out this afternoon for food for the plane, there are no little markets along the side streets; instead, it’s a hike to the giant mall with a supermarket. But I confess that after many hot, busy days without a lot of comfort, the Hilton feels great for a day.
I leave Ecuador thinking I’ve done well for the Observatory, if only as their calling card to organizations that wouldn’t otherwise talk to them, and for myself, in seeing a way to learn and contribute. I’ll be working long distance with Raquel to finalize the project report and design a 3-year project for citizen monitoring groups, as well as looking for a way to advance my Spanish.
I also came to an important realization this month about the inexpensive bananas that I buy in the US, almost all of which come from Ecuador. The result of my buying them is more poisoning in the drinking water of 3 million Ecuadorans. Why? Because there are no controls on the pesticides and fertilizers used in the industrial plantations here, and plantations use lots of chemical, including ones no longer allowed in the US and Europe. Because the runoff goes directly into the rivers of the Guayas watershed, which is also the drinking water source for towns and cities in the lower Guayas region. Because cities and towns don’t have treatment systems to remove pesticides and other chemicals. Because I don’t want the bananas on my cereal to hurt the Rodriguez family with whom I stayed, and my other Ecuadoran friends and colleagues. Luckily there’s an alternative: organically grown.
Cheers,
Claire
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Back on the Road - Again
May 22, Guayaquil
Many of my impressions of Guayaquil come from the considerable amount of time I spend in city buses or cars, watching them from the sidewalks, or dodging them in intersections.
There’s a vast bus system, run by different cooperatives, that operates early am until late at night. Except for a new Metrovia with only 4 lines, there are no fixed stops: you just flag down the bus and hop aboard, hoping the driver really stops for you rather than slowing enough to make you think you can jump on. Raquel tells me that numerous “little old ladies” like me fall in the streets as a result of too-fast bus driving, so I try to enter and exit in the middle of group of people. One cause of this may be a system of bus watchers who time the bus runs; drivers who don’t keep up with the schedule are in trouble.
Informal vendors hop onto buses regularly, jumping over the entrance gate so as not to trigger the automatic count. They’re selling candies, pens, cookies, water, ice cream – at cheaper prices than in stores. Occasionally a mother will come on board announcing a collection to buy clothing and food for the baby she’s carrying. Last night my bus experienced a “control:” waved over by a file of 15 soldiers, who requested that all men exit. They came back to make sure the 1 cross-dresser on board also exited. As best I could tell, the military didn’t search the men but looked them over and inspected the bus as well. Then the men all came back on board, and we continued.
Guayaquil has a big variety of cars on the road: from Ladas (there's even a Hotel Lada) to the latest SUV. Why the Lada? 30 years they were cheap, and they still run. Leaded gas is still used, which is a scary thought given that the roadsides are heavily used for crops, drying cocoa, and transport by foot and bike. I’m told the government has a program to pay owners to take old cars off the road, but it will take time and unleaded gasoline to really change automobile pollution, which the heavy air and humidity in Guayaquil holds close to city streets.
This week I rode in a VW bus with tremendous character: one of the original models repainted bright blue in and out, side door tied open for ventilation, no working gauges, and a very tired engine. On the plus side, Leonard is a skilled driver who knows his car and doesn’t mind traveling a top speed of 20 mph or getting the horn from drivers zipping around us with less than a foot to spare. The only startling moments were on uphill curves, when he gunned the engine to get a running start. At that point, I looked for some part of the frame to hold onto but soon decided that was pointless. However, Blue Betsy got us through Flor de Bastion, a hilly barrio of 500,000 people with no paved roads, piped water, or sewer, and back to the City Center without incident. Confession: I was really glad to be back in the city center and under my own power.
Tricimotos powered by bike or scooter – we’d call them pedicabs – are also common in the barrios and country towns. Many buses and taxis have names: Emily, Nino Divino (Holy Child), El Mafia, Matador - the last two ones to avoid if the name indicates the driver’s attitude.
Claire
Many of my impressions of Guayaquil come from the considerable amount of time I spend in city buses or cars, watching them from the sidewalks, or dodging them in intersections.
There’s a vast bus system, run by different cooperatives, that operates early am until late at night. Except for a new Metrovia with only 4 lines, there are no fixed stops: you just flag down the bus and hop aboard, hoping the driver really stops for you rather than slowing enough to make you think you can jump on. Raquel tells me that numerous “little old ladies” like me fall in the streets as a result of too-fast bus driving, so I try to enter and exit in the middle of group of people. One cause of this may be a system of bus watchers who time the bus runs; drivers who don’t keep up with the schedule are in trouble.
Informal vendors hop onto buses regularly, jumping over the entrance gate so as not to trigger the automatic count. They’re selling candies, pens, cookies, water, ice cream – at cheaper prices than in stores. Occasionally a mother will come on board announcing a collection to buy clothing and food for the baby she’s carrying. Last night my bus experienced a “control:” waved over by a file of 15 soldiers, who requested that all men exit. They came back to make sure the 1 cross-dresser on board also exited. As best I could tell, the military didn’t search the men but looked them over and inspected the bus as well. Then the men all came back on board, and we continued.
Guayaquil has a big variety of cars on the road: from Ladas (there's even a Hotel Lada) to the latest SUV. Why the Lada? 30 years they were cheap, and they still run. Leaded gas is still used, which is a scary thought given that the roadsides are heavily used for crops, drying cocoa, and transport by foot and bike. I’m told the government has a program to pay owners to take old cars off the road, but it will take time and unleaded gasoline to really change automobile pollution, which the heavy air and humidity in Guayaquil holds close to city streets.
This week I rode in a VW bus with tremendous character: one of the original models repainted bright blue in and out, side door tied open for ventilation, no working gauges, and a very tired engine. On the plus side, Leonard is a skilled driver who knows his car and doesn’t mind traveling a top speed of 20 mph or getting the horn from drivers zipping around us with less than a foot to spare. The only startling moments were on uphill curves, when he gunned the engine to get a running start. At that point, I looked for some part of the frame to hold onto but soon decided that was pointless. However, Blue Betsy got us through Flor de Bastion, a hilly barrio of 500,000 people with no paved roads, piped water, or sewer, and back to the City Center without incident. Confession: I was really glad to be back in the city center and under my own power.Tricimotos powered by bike or scooter – we’d call them pedicabs – are also common in the barrios and country towns. Many buses and taxis have names: Emily, Nino Divino (Holy Child), El Mafia, Matador - the last two ones to avoid if the name indicates the driver’s attitude.
Claire
Thursday May 20
In each of the governmental agencies with whom we’ve met, the women present a united front in the form of a blue or grey pants suit with a contrasting shirt: purple/maroon in one office, yellow in another, and white in a third. Who is on the committee to choose the style? Does the shirt color change day to day? Do they accommodate for pregnant women? And what if you forget and wear the wrong color some day? Raquel, my guide to all things Ecuadorian, doesn’t know.
Time is another cultural straddle complicated by my difficulty in following spoken Spanish. Meetings are typically set for a particular time. But except for a meeting that we organized at our office (which started an hour after its appointed time), our 3-person team has never gotten to a meeting at the appointed time. If 2 of us are close to on time, the 3rd one is not, or vice versa. Often, we then wait for the official or group we’re scheduled to see – perhaps that evens the score, if there is one. The only person who mentioned anything about our timing (arrival at 4:30 for what I thought was a 2:30 meeting) said mildly “I thought you’d be here earlier.”
“20 minutes” is the standard comment for when you’re on the way and will be there sometime. It could be 20, 40 or 1 hr 20 minutes. My comments are not a put down of the system, just a comment on how differently time runs. I wonder how Latin Americans would react if they were in the US for a series of on-time meetings? Probably cheerfully, but mystified by our focus on the clock. In the case of our 2:30pm meeting, perhaps the arrangement was something like “we’d like to stop by after lunch, sometime after 2:30.” On the other hand, there is a National Commission on Punctuality with the slogan “Finish on Time.” And I read in a travel book about a maker of Panama hats (actually made in Ecuador) that one factory used a time clock for everyone including the manager and paid the workers who came on time a higher wage.
Something else that transfixes me is that everyone I’m in meetings with takes calls on their cell phones during meetings. Once in a while there’s a chorus of them during a conversation, and we all take a phone break.
My Spanish gets in the way when I don’t understand the plan and don’t have my stuff ready to go when everyone else jumps up to leave. Raquel and I now agree to talk each night about the next day’s plan, and I'm braver about making sure I understand her rapid-fire Spanish.
Only a few days remain in my time here, and I’ve put down some ideas on how to use it: more meetings, writing up notes from meetings, thinking about an overall strategy, etc. My own thought has been that getting a record of what we’ve done so far is more important than new meetings, but it’s not the priority for the Observatory. It has been really helpful to have my presence as a calling card with ministries and as of Friday afternoon, we’re still hoping for more meetings Monday and Tuesday. Ben is absolutely right to remind that the Observatory probably knows best how to use my time, and they’re better able to write up meeting notes than I am. I have a PowerPoint on the Boston Harbor cleanup which most people find interesting, especially the point that 40 years ago we had really serious problems in the Harbor, and we have a series of questions about the availability of data on contamination in the estuary. Again, there’s a general comment from ministries that “the other ones” won’t share information unless some higher authority such as the World Bank forces it. Whenever I get fussy about this, I remind myself of the problems the state of Massachusetts has had in getting data from a UMass institute, data which the state actually paid for. As in most public agencies, where employees have little authority or financial reward, information becomes a source of power, and sharing it is tough.
Our most engaging meeting has been with a young professor of aquaculture at the U of Guayaquil who is mounting a 2 year monitoring of water quality and changes in fish species. He invited our participation via information on applicable treatment technologies, which I’m hoping to work on from the US. So far, I’ve heard back from only 1 of my colleagues on this topic. The others may think the heat has addled my brains for thinking we can be of assistance.
Claire
In each of the governmental agencies with whom we’ve met, the women present a united front in the form of a blue or grey pants suit with a contrasting shirt: purple/maroon in one office, yellow in another, and white in a third. Who is on the committee to choose the style? Does the shirt color change day to day? Do they accommodate for pregnant women? And what if you forget and wear the wrong color some day? Raquel, my guide to all things Ecuadorian, doesn’t know.
Time is another cultural straddle complicated by my difficulty in following spoken Spanish. Meetings are typically set for a particular time. But except for a meeting that we organized at our office (which started an hour after its appointed time), our 3-person team has never gotten to a meeting at the appointed time. If 2 of us are close to on time, the 3rd one is not, or vice versa. Often, we then wait for the official or group we’re scheduled to see – perhaps that evens the score, if there is one. The only person who mentioned anything about our timing (arrival at 4:30 for what I thought was a 2:30 meeting) said mildly “I thought you’d be here earlier.”
“20 minutes” is the standard comment for when you’re on the way and will be there sometime. It could be 20, 40 or 1 hr 20 minutes. My comments are not a put down of the system, just a comment on how differently time runs. I wonder how Latin Americans would react if they were in the US for a series of on-time meetings? Probably cheerfully, but mystified by our focus on the clock. In the case of our 2:30pm meeting, perhaps the arrangement was something like “we’d like to stop by after lunch, sometime after 2:30.” On the other hand, there is a National Commission on Punctuality with the slogan “Finish on Time.” And I read in a travel book about a maker of Panama hats (actually made in Ecuador) that one factory used a time clock for everyone including the manager and paid the workers who came on time a higher wage.
Something else that transfixes me is that everyone I’m in meetings with takes calls on their cell phones during meetings. Once in a while there’s a chorus of them during a conversation, and we all take a phone break.
My Spanish gets in the way when I don’t understand the plan and don’t have my stuff ready to go when everyone else jumps up to leave. Raquel and I now agree to talk each night about the next day’s plan, and I'm braver about making sure I understand her rapid-fire Spanish.
Only a few days remain in my time here, and I’ve put down some ideas on how to use it: more meetings, writing up notes from meetings, thinking about an overall strategy, etc. My own thought has been that getting a record of what we’ve done so far is more important than new meetings, but it’s not the priority for the Observatory. It has been really helpful to have my presence as a calling card with ministries and as of Friday afternoon, we’re still hoping for more meetings Monday and Tuesday. Ben is absolutely right to remind that the Observatory probably knows best how to use my time, and they’re better able to write up meeting notes than I am. I have a PowerPoint on the Boston Harbor cleanup which most people find interesting, especially the point that 40 years ago we had really serious problems in the Harbor, and we have a series of questions about the availability of data on contamination in the estuary. Again, there’s a general comment from ministries that “the other ones” won’t share information unless some higher authority such as the World Bank forces it. Whenever I get fussy about this, I remind myself of the problems the state of Massachusetts has had in getting data from a UMass institute, data which the state actually paid for. As in most public agencies, where employees have little authority or financial reward, information becomes a source of power, and sharing it is tough.
Our most engaging meeting has been with a young professor of aquaculture at the U of Guayaquil who is mounting a 2 year monitoring of water quality and changes in fish species. He invited our participation via information on applicable treatment technologies, which I’m hoping to work on from the US. So far, I’ve heard back from only 1 of my colleagues on this topic. The others may think the heat has addled my brains for thinking we can be of assistance.
Claire
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Guayaquil, Saturday May 16
Raquel has a weekend gathering with a women's democracy group in Santa Elena, a small tourist city on the coast. I'm invited, and although I'm interested in seeing more of the country and learning about women's rights, the thought of leaving at 5am and listening to more Spanish, on top of 2 nights of poor sleeping, makes the decision obvious: I'm going to stay in Guayaquil and play tourist.
It's 9:30 before I leave, already getting very hot. Senor R asks a neighbor to drive me to the Malecon and gives me all kinds of warnings about safety and a fair price for a taxi home. No more than 3 dollars! I'd planned to get the #44 bus into town, but it seems rude to turn down this offer, and the neighbor and I have a good chat and I get started sooner on the hike up Santa Anna Hill. This is an old part of town with winding streets leading up to a lighthouse, church, and remains of an old fort. As part of the cleanup of downtown, it was rebuilt starting in about 2000, and how has cafes, bars, brightly painted houses with plantings, art galleries, and boutique hotels, all watched over by security police who look you over while offering a polite greeting. The other visitors include some young adolescent boys jumping into a fountain at the base, a few Ecuadoran families, several young Ecuadoran couples looking for privacy, and a redfaced European couple, probably in transit to the Galapogos.
The climb via a series of steps and ramps has good shade most of the way, and a breeze at the top. The lighthouse is an extra climb worth the trouble, as it gives a panoramic view of the river, the uninhabited Santay Island and other towns across the river, airport and new skyscrapers, older Colonial buildings and neighborhoods, and the hills not far off. Looking down Samta Anna Hill across the tops of the reconstructed houses, you can see that although the walls below are rebuilt and repainted, the roofs are not: sheets of rusting tin patched together. Hot in the day, but probably they cool pretty quickly in the evening.
Here's where I start to see the downtown recycling bins, as well as soda bottles left in the light house windows. Young men in overall uniforms are trimming and watering the plantings; probably a good job. Guayaquil had big problems with pirates in the 18th century, and a popular tourist hangout uses this theme; a wooden pirate with spyglass perches in a tree at eyelevel with the tourists visiting the church.
Coffee and snack on the way down, then to the Museum of History and COntemporary Art, suported by the Bank of Ecuador: top rated and interesting in all aspects. It's a modern building built of wood, stone and metal that mimics a ship drawn up to shore. Inside, large windows frame the river. The main exhibit is about Ecuador's 10,000 years of history, built around thousands of artifacts from early periods. The ceramic work is particularly interesting;you can track development over time from simpler to more sophisticated. The later work around 100CE has very detailed and finely worked features on animals and human figures. It seems that earlier ceremonial figures were mostly feminine and the later ones are masculine: more threatening visages and domineering poses. Does that mean that early civilizations draw on the female strengths of caretaking and community? then once established, the men take over with the urge to dominate and spread?
US museums could learn a lot on how to capture and keep visitor's interests with videos, hangings, and not overemphasizing the date and provenance of every item. Very well done here, and it's amazing to come across stone vases, metates, anchors, knives and pedestals on display without being tied down. Granted, one would be heavy to carry out, but perfectly possible. Maybe they sort through the visitors and decide who's worth tracking through the museum. if so, I'm not considered a threat.
The other display of interest is oil painting by a Columbian artist Dario Ortiz: classic themes such as Three Graces, Oedipus and family, The Golden Age, but set in modern times. His nudes are well done and provocative. There's also a fun room of art by Guayaquilenos who otherwise wouldn't have space for their work to be displayed. Nice idea!
Outside again into the heat, and looking for shady ways to get down the Malecon. Closer to the street are areas with native plantings and shade. The part next to the water is breezier, but brutally hot in the sun. At the Restaca, I get crab soup (in season now) and grilled conch, with a beer and long rest.
It's interesting that there are so few entries into the Malecon along its 1 1/2 mile length. A tall decorative iron fence separates it from Simon Bolivar Ave, with perhaps 4 opening at a few major intersections. Why? Maybe to make it a special, separate place; or to thwart thieves who would otherwise have easy entrance and exit? From 1-3pm, it's pretty empty, since most locals know the challenges of being out in the heat. Later, families come out for ice cream and play time. No street vendors here: Raquel tells me that they are closely regulated in the city center, and often arrested for operating without a license.
Throughout the city are various monuments to early leaders, starting with Simon Bolivar and San Martin (only Bolivar is remembered now, as San Martin left the independence battlefield for reasons probably forever obscure).I depart the Malecon at August 10th Avenue to find the Nahim Isais Museum for its pre-Columbian work, but instead find a century by century description of Guayaquil, from Indians through conquistadores, pirates, Spaniards and slavery, to independence led by criollos - the term for Spaniards who settled here and eventually broke away from Spain. Borders were inclear in the early days, and Ecuador must have be part of Colombia at some point: 2 18th c drawings of the city are marked as Guayaquil, Peru, with Peru crossed out and replaced with Columbia. As at the other museum, the displays are focused, short, and well done, with videos of actors playing the part of key historical figures. My guide in English is a direct translation from the Spanish, and sometimes it's more confusing than the Spanish. It's nice to be able to use both languuages.
A quick stop at the Seminary Park for ice cream and to shiver at the hundreds of iguanas who live an easy life there, strolling the grounds and fed by visitors. Young kids and I are terrorized at the thought of holding out a sugar cane stick for them to grab. Unfortunately, the young kids sometimes don't get a choice of standing back, as their parents really want them to have this experience.
Along the main avenue across the city, I come across a late afternoon parade by youth groups from all the military schools and organizations in the city, marking the life of Rocafuerte, an important colonial military figure. Dozens of marching bands, drum and flag corps, and kids with practice rifles. The glockenspiel is everywhere, often more than 6 to a band. I could have kept it up, moved to Ecuador, joined the army, and had a career in a marching band.
And finally, home on the #44. Early on, a middle aged guy jumps aboard and tries out his routine in English with me. He may really have been Jewish with family in New York, but he sat too close by and clearly wanted a connection. It was heartening to see other Ecudoran men looking over with concern as I navigated my bag between me and Oscar. He jumped off soon after.
Home about 7pm with Senor R looking a bit anxious outside the house. I had thought I'd be back by 6, and they had no way of knowing if I was OK. Soon to bed after an exhausting day!
Clarita
Raquel has a weekend gathering with a women's democracy group in Santa Elena, a small tourist city on the coast. I'm invited, and although I'm interested in seeing more of the country and learning about women's rights, the thought of leaving at 5am and listening to more Spanish, on top of 2 nights of poor sleeping, makes the decision obvious: I'm going to stay in Guayaquil and play tourist.
It's 9:30 before I leave, already getting very hot. Senor R asks a neighbor to drive me to the Malecon and gives me all kinds of warnings about safety and a fair price for a taxi home. No more than 3 dollars! I'd planned to get the #44 bus into town, but it seems rude to turn down this offer, and the neighbor and I have a good chat and I get started sooner on the hike up Santa Anna Hill. This is an old part of town with winding streets leading up to a lighthouse, church, and remains of an old fort. As part of the cleanup of downtown, it was rebuilt starting in about 2000, and how has cafes, bars, brightly painted houses with plantings, art galleries, and boutique hotels, all watched over by security police who look you over while offering a polite greeting. The other visitors include some young adolescent boys jumping into a fountain at the base, a few Ecuadoran families, several young Ecuadoran couples looking for privacy, and a redfaced European couple, probably in transit to the Galapogos.
The climb via a series of steps and ramps has good shade most of the way, and a breeze at the top. The lighthouse is an extra climb worth the trouble, as it gives a panoramic view of the river, the uninhabited Santay Island and other towns across the river, airport and new skyscrapers, older Colonial buildings and neighborhoods, and the hills not far off. Looking down Samta Anna Hill across the tops of the reconstructed houses, you can see that although the walls below are rebuilt and repainted, the roofs are not: sheets of rusting tin patched together. Hot in the day, but probably they cool pretty quickly in the evening.
Here's where I start to see the downtown recycling bins, as well as soda bottles left in the light house windows. Young men in overall uniforms are trimming and watering the plantings; probably a good job. Guayaquil had big problems with pirates in the 18th century, and a popular tourist hangout uses this theme; a wooden pirate with spyglass perches in a tree at eyelevel with the tourists visiting the church.
Coffee and snack on the way down, then to the Museum of History and COntemporary Art, suported by the Bank of Ecuador: top rated and interesting in all aspects. It's a modern building built of wood, stone and metal that mimics a ship drawn up to shore. Inside, large windows frame the river. The main exhibit is about Ecuador's 10,000 years of history, built around thousands of artifacts from early periods. The ceramic work is particularly interesting;you can track development over time from simpler to more sophisticated. The later work around 100CE has very detailed and finely worked features on animals and human figures. It seems that earlier ceremonial figures were mostly feminine and the later ones are masculine: more threatening visages and domineering poses. Does that mean that early civilizations draw on the female strengths of caretaking and community? then once established, the men take over with the urge to dominate and spread?
US museums could learn a lot on how to capture and keep visitor's interests with videos, hangings, and not overemphasizing the date and provenance of every item. Very well done here, and it's amazing to come across stone vases, metates, anchors, knives and pedestals on display without being tied down. Granted, one would be heavy to carry out, but perfectly possible. Maybe they sort through the visitors and decide who's worth tracking through the museum. if so, I'm not considered a threat.
The other display of interest is oil painting by a Columbian artist Dario Ortiz: classic themes such as Three Graces, Oedipus and family, The Golden Age, but set in modern times. His nudes are well done and provocative. There's also a fun room of art by Guayaquilenos who otherwise wouldn't have space for their work to be displayed. Nice idea!
Outside again into the heat, and looking for shady ways to get down the Malecon. Closer to the street are areas with native plantings and shade. The part next to the water is breezier, but brutally hot in the sun. At the Restaca, I get crab soup (in season now) and grilled conch, with a beer and long rest.
It's interesting that there are so few entries into the Malecon along its 1 1/2 mile length. A tall decorative iron fence separates it from Simon Bolivar Ave, with perhaps 4 opening at a few major intersections. Why? Maybe to make it a special, separate place; or to thwart thieves who would otherwise have easy entrance and exit? From 1-3pm, it's pretty empty, since most locals know the challenges of being out in the heat. Later, families come out for ice cream and play time. No street vendors here: Raquel tells me that they are closely regulated in the city center, and often arrested for operating without a license.
Throughout the city are various monuments to early leaders, starting with Simon Bolivar and San Martin (only Bolivar is remembered now, as San Martin left the independence battlefield for reasons probably forever obscure).I depart the Malecon at August 10th Avenue to find the Nahim Isais Museum for its pre-Columbian work, but instead find a century by century description of Guayaquil, from Indians through conquistadores, pirates, Spaniards and slavery, to independence led by criollos - the term for Spaniards who settled here and eventually broke away from Spain. Borders were inclear in the early days, and Ecuador must have be part of Colombia at some point: 2 18th c drawings of the city are marked as Guayaquil, Peru, with Peru crossed out and replaced with Columbia. As at the other museum, the displays are focused, short, and well done, with videos of actors playing the part of key historical figures. My guide in English is a direct translation from the Spanish, and sometimes it's more confusing than the Spanish. It's nice to be able to use both languuages.
A quick stop at the Seminary Park for ice cream and to shiver at the hundreds of iguanas who live an easy life there, strolling the grounds and fed by visitors. Young kids and I are terrorized at the thought of holding out a sugar cane stick for them to grab. Unfortunately, the young kids sometimes don't get a choice of standing back, as their parents really want them to have this experience.
Along the main avenue across the city, I come across a late afternoon parade by youth groups from all the military schools and organizations in the city, marking the life of Rocafuerte, an important colonial military figure. Dozens of marching bands, drum and flag corps, and kids with practice rifles. The glockenspiel is everywhere, often more than 6 to a band. I could have kept it up, moved to Ecuador, joined the army, and had a career in a marching band.
And finally, home on the #44. Early on, a middle aged guy jumps aboard and tries out his routine in English with me. He may really have been Jewish with family in New York, but he sat too close by and clearly wanted a connection. It was heartening to see other Ecudoran men looking over with concern as I navigated my bag between me and Oscar. He jumped off soon after.
Home about 7pm with Senor R looking a bit anxious outside the house. I had thought I'd be back by 6, and they had no way of knowing if I was OK. Soon to bed after an exhausting day!
Clarita
Friday May 17
Guayaquil is Ecuador’s biggest city, its port and commercial center, and a bustling place. In this way, it’s similar to Santa Cruz Bolivia, but the differences are significant: Ecuador is wealthier than Bolivia, so you see a bigger variety of cars on the street, better housing, more shops and fancy hotels, and lots more commercial activity. G-quil’s location on the country’s biggest river also provides a focus of riverside activity, mostly since 2000: museums, parks, cafes, strolling. The climate is hot year round, varying between wet season and dry. Just now it’s the end of the wet, so there’s still a lot of green and lots of heat and humidity: over 90 today in both temperature and humidity. The city is at 2o below the ecuator, and the sun is dangerous all year long. Ecuador uses the US dollar. Hence, gringos/as don’t struggle with the conversion, but poorer Ecuadorians have suffered the higher prices and loss of equity that resulted from the changeover in 2000.
Downtown Guayaquil is modern and recently refurbished. Guide books from 10 years ago talk about how dirty and dangerous a place it is, but that changed with a new mayor in 2000. The Malecon, a promenade along the River Guayas, is full of plantings, benches, historical markers and statues, playgrounds and ice cream stands (Pinguin (Penguin) is the quality brand and very good), bars and restaurants, a wonderful art and culture museums, a shopping center, and above all, people. At all hours I've been there, many teenage couples are necking and the specially-trained (and armed) tourism police are always within site. After 3 pm on a Saturday, families come out for ice cream and play time with their children. The evening we walked through, adults were strolling in the breezes off the river. Just as in Nicaragua, I find that families are very concerned about my safety, cautioning me against walking to the corner in the evening to make a phone call, and warning me to take off my watch before I go downtown for the day. In both cases, I presist, and never feel a concern about my safety.
The major downtown streets sport recycling stations for cardboard, glass and plastic, with detailed instructions about cleaning and drying the glass and plastic before recycling them. Hard to comply with this requirement if you've just finished a soda, and perhaps that's why cleanup people are also a big presence, with brooms, dustbins, and hoses. Unfortunately, the trash services don't extend much beyond a half-dozen downtown streets. As you travel by bus toward the neighborhood where I live, there's more and more trash in the gutters or piled in the streets, and fewer trash barrels. Raquel tells me that they have trash pickup 3 days a week, but lots of people just leave it out at any time or in the wrong place, in which case the city never picks it up. I'm particularly aware of this problem because of its impact on water quality in the river and estuaries: lots of trash is thrown there and with the rain, trash in the gutters and streets will eventually get washed into the water.
Even on the Malecon and along the estuary-side parks in fancy neighborhoods, the smell of untreated wastewater is noticeable. About half the city's sewage gets primary treatment, and half gets none at all. The land is very low and tides are strong, which means that the contaminated water gets pushed back and forth throughout the estuary.
Getting around the city involves city buses @ 25 cents, official taxis, or informal ones. We've used a number of the latter from home to various places. Seatbelts are infrequent, and drivers are loose with the definition of lanes. Passing on the right and left is common. Downtown, parking spaces are at a premium, and doled out by informal guardians of spaces, who use plastic lawn chairs to make sure a driver doesn't take a spot without a tip to the guardian. Makes me think of Boston after our snow storms, when residents are allowed 24-48 hours' use of a chair to guard their spot; imagine if we did this all year long!
Slot machine casinos are common throughout the downtown, and cyber and phone call centers are ubiquitous everywhere. It's hard to imagine that all these vendors can make a profit, although the rate of 50 cents per minute to call the US certainly helps the bottom line. Ecuadorans also use cell phones heavily in preference to a land line which is much more expensive. The city has a lively press, including several newspapers ranging from right wing to center to the red press which reports only about murders, robberies, and other bloody stories. There's good television news, and we are following the first case of Swine Flu in Guayaquil, from a student who arrived here from Miami. The 4 children in the family are closely following the Simpsons and Disney cartoons.
Claire
Guayaquil is Ecuador’s biggest city, its port and commercial center, and a bustling place. In this way, it’s similar to Santa Cruz Bolivia, but the differences are significant: Ecuador is wealthier than Bolivia, so you see a bigger variety of cars on the street, better housing, more shops and fancy hotels, and lots more commercial activity. G-quil’s location on the country’s biggest river also provides a focus of riverside activity, mostly since 2000: museums, parks, cafes, strolling. The climate is hot year round, varying between wet season and dry. Just now it’s the end of the wet, so there’s still a lot of green and lots of heat and humidity: over 90 today in both temperature and humidity. The city is at 2o below the ecuator, and the sun is dangerous all year long. Ecuador uses the US dollar. Hence, gringos/as don’t struggle with the conversion, but poorer Ecuadorians have suffered the higher prices and loss of equity that resulted from the changeover in 2000.
Downtown Guayaquil is modern and recently refurbished. Guide books from 10 years ago talk about how dirty and dangerous a place it is, but that changed with a new mayor in 2000. The Malecon, a promenade along the River Guayas, is full of plantings, benches, historical markers and statues, playgrounds and ice cream stands (Pinguin (Penguin) is the quality brand and very good), bars and restaurants, a wonderful art and culture museums, a shopping center, and above all, people. At all hours I've been there, many teenage couples are necking and the specially-trained (and armed) tourism police are always within site. After 3 pm on a Saturday, families come out for ice cream and play time with their children. The evening we walked through, adults were strolling in the breezes off the river. Just as in Nicaragua, I find that families are very concerned about my safety, cautioning me against walking to the corner in the evening to make a phone call, and warning me to take off my watch before I go downtown for the day. In both cases, I presist, and never feel a concern about my safety.
The major downtown streets sport recycling stations for cardboard, glass and plastic, with detailed instructions about cleaning and drying the glass and plastic before recycling them. Hard to comply with this requirement if you've just finished a soda, and perhaps that's why cleanup people are also a big presence, with brooms, dustbins, and hoses. Unfortunately, the trash services don't extend much beyond a half-dozen downtown streets. As you travel by bus toward the neighborhood where I live, there's more and more trash in the gutters or piled in the streets, and fewer trash barrels. Raquel tells me that they have trash pickup 3 days a week, but lots of people just leave it out at any time or in the wrong place, in which case the city never picks it up. I'm particularly aware of this problem because of its impact on water quality in the river and estuaries: lots of trash is thrown there and with the rain, trash in the gutters and streets will eventually get washed into the water.
Even on the Malecon and along the estuary-side parks in fancy neighborhoods, the smell of untreated wastewater is noticeable. About half the city's sewage gets primary treatment, and half gets none at all. The land is very low and tides are strong, which means that the contaminated water gets pushed back and forth throughout the estuary.
Getting around the city involves city buses @ 25 cents, official taxis, or informal ones. We've used a number of the latter from home to various places. Seatbelts are infrequent, and drivers are loose with the definition of lanes. Passing on the right and left is common. Downtown, parking spaces are at a premium, and doled out by informal guardians of spaces, who use plastic lawn chairs to make sure a driver doesn't take a spot without a tip to the guardian. Makes me think of Boston after our snow storms, when residents are allowed 24-48 hours' use of a chair to guard their spot; imagine if we did this all year long!
Slot machine casinos are common throughout the downtown, and cyber and phone call centers are ubiquitous everywhere. It's hard to imagine that all these vendors can make a profit, although the rate of 50 cents per minute to call the US certainly helps the bottom line. Ecuadorans also use cell phones heavily in preference to a land line which is much more expensive. The city has a lively press, including several newspapers ranging from right wing to center to the red press which reports only about murders, robberies, and other bloody stories. There's good television news, and we are following the first case of Swine Flu in Guayaquil, from a student who arrived here from Miami. The 4 children in the family are closely following the Simpsons and Disney cartoons.
Claire
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
