San Clemente
The chickens at Jaime and Luz Maria´s house spend their time scuttling around the yard and around the house. They live in the walnut tree to the side of the kitchen. Neither Jaime nor Luz Maria know how many chickens they have. To collect the eggs, they hung a basket from the overhanging roof behind the kitchen. The chickens walk up a wooden plank and lay their eggs in the basket. How very cooperative of the chickens.
In the indigenous village of San Clemente, at the foot of the the venerable Taita Imbabura (a sizable mountain, and also the lover of Mama Cotacachi another mountain in the area), the couple live and farm the land that had been passed to them from Jaime´s father.
Set in the beautiful countryside above the city of Ibarra, San Clemete is picturesque. Rolling hills, fields, animals living in harmony with their owners. It is hard to imagine that in their all to recent history, all of the land in sight was legally owned by single hacienda, and the people, who had farmed the land long before the hacienda arrived, were forced to work the land for its new owners. It wasn´t until the agrarian reform in the mid 1960´s that the haciendas were divided and land rights given to the indigenous people.
We arrived to spend the weekend with indigenous families and run another set of health clinics for both people and animals. The animal clinic was a success as shoeless grandparents brought the family pigs, some huge bulls and cows, a handful of well mannered llamas, and sheep to be dewormed. For any of a number of reasons, there was little turn out for the people clinic, so we walked up the hill to watch the Ecuador vs. Ingleterra world cup match. To the nation´s great dissapointment, it was to be Ecuador´s final match, lost in a well placed free kick by Beckham.
In preparation for dinner that night, Jen and I watched as Luz Maria made tortillas over the open fire that filled a third of their old kitchen. Around the fire, 20-30 guinea pigs scampered freely. Luz Maria´s youngest son, seven months old, spent most of the day strapped to back. For the tortilla making however, he was tucked in blankets and set in a cardboard box by her side as she worked to prepare the infamous San Clemente tortillas, reputed for their flavor, and also known to mysteriously expand in ones stomach.
We spent a lovely weekend amongst family, eating from the land, and fitting in as comfortably as the guinea pigs around the fire or chickens in the walnut tree, content with the natural rhythms, a sense of place, and a feeling of home.
Only a couple days left of Spanish class, and then, el Oriente (the Amazon) . . .
In the indigenous village of San Clemente, at the foot of the the venerable Taita Imbabura (a sizable mountain, and also the lover of Mama Cotacachi another mountain in the area), the couple live and farm the land that had been passed to them from Jaime´s father.
Set in the beautiful countryside above the city of Ibarra, San Clemete is picturesque. Rolling hills, fields, animals living in harmony with their owners. It is hard to imagine that in their all to recent history, all of the land in sight was legally owned by single hacienda, and the people, who had farmed the land long before the hacienda arrived, were forced to work the land for its new owners. It wasn´t until the agrarian reform in the mid 1960´s that the haciendas were divided and land rights given to the indigenous people.
We arrived to spend the weekend with indigenous families and run another set of health clinics for both people and animals. The animal clinic was a success as shoeless grandparents brought the family pigs, some huge bulls and cows, a handful of well mannered llamas, and sheep to be dewormed. For any of a number of reasons, there was little turn out for the people clinic, so we walked up the hill to watch the Ecuador vs. Ingleterra world cup match. To the nation´s great dissapointment, it was to be Ecuador´s final match, lost in a well placed free kick by Beckham.
In preparation for dinner that night, Jen and I watched as Luz Maria made tortillas over the open fire that filled a third of their old kitchen. Around the fire, 20-30 guinea pigs scampered freely. Luz Maria´s youngest son, seven months old, spent most of the day strapped to back. For the tortilla making however, he was tucked in blankets and set in a cardboard box by her side as she worked to prepare the infamous San Clemente tortillas, reputed for their flavor, and also known to mysteriously expand in ones stomach.
We spent a lovely weekend amongst family, eating from the land, and fitting in as comfortably as the guinea pigs around the fire or chickens in the walnut tree, content with the natural rhythms, a sense of place, and a feeling of home.
Only a couple days left of Spanish class, and then, el Oriente (the Amazon) . . .
posted by Alexandra @ 1:45 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home