Llashna Tagmari - And so it is.

Part of this entry is a little dated, but I added some extra bits. I'm in Quito now, after spending about two weeks in Esperanza. The first half week was dedicated to organizing a three-day summer camp for 55 children in Esperanza (part of the nature of non-profits is getting sucked into other random projects). We spent way more time than necessary trying to contract a bus that could leave the province (we went to Salinas de Bolivar, a small community consisting of cooperative businesses, specializing in artesanal chocolates, cheeses, salamis, sweaters, soccer balls, porcini mushrooms, salt). To make a really long and frustrating story short: trying to navigate through a mestizo-dominated Ecuadorian bureaucracy to make it possible for indigenous children to enjoy an end-of-school educational trip is absolutely despicable. We had an amazing time in the end, and it was a beautiful way of building relationships with the kids and their families.

And now for something completely different. About 99% of the comuneros in Esperanza are Evangelical, while the remaining 1% are Catholic (this figure was given to me by one of the few Catholics in the community). This is a little shocking, for the entire province of Chimborazo was swept by Evangelical missionaries in the 70's and 80's. Before Evangelical conversion, Kichwa communities were Catholic.

I've been going to church regularly most every Sunday(as a part of getting to know the community and for my own academic interests). Services start anywhere between 4 and 4:30 pm (things are rarely punctual in Ecuador) and usually an average of about 40 people attend services.

The most special oculto service I've attended was just outside of Riobamba. A few of the pastors and comuneros from Esperanza have begun a church planting project, that is in the process of building a sister church to the one in Esperanza (Oculto "Cristo El Rey"). It was a thursday night, and the entire community had chartered a bus, "El Llin Llin", that made the dangerously steep treck up the mountain to pick everyone up. Additionally, we squeezed ourselves along with 15 other little kids in the bed of the AD pickup truck. The sky was clear and the air was freezing cold, as we played underneath a billowing plastic tarp to keep warm (nevermind about the risk of suffocation).

We arrived at the oculto, which pretty much consisted of hardly half-finished brick walls, a straw floor, a few lightbulbs, and open fire. There was no roof, so we were free to see the milky way and the towering snowy summit of Chimborazo in its ominous volcanic glory. We were lovingly greeted by everyone in the community (there were also people from surrounding communities in the church). The customary greeting is to shake hands with everyone you meet, accompanied by good morning, good afternoon, or good evening (this pretty much exists everywhere I've been in Ecuador...both in el campo and the city, though it's usually in Kichwa in this setting). We all sat down on a warm bed of straw and had a bowl of chicken quinoa soup to warm up.

Despite the shoddy light system (I kid you not, the lightbulbs were hanging from open wires), there was somehow enough electricity to outfit three 4 ft. tall speakers, two amplifiers, a sound board connecting to 3 mics, and an electric bass, guitar, and piano. One of the four pastors was revising and studying his sermon on a laptop. The sermon began with everyone singing psalms with verses alternating from Spanish to Kichwa. Each person clapped along to the rhythm of the music, but without dancing, and usually looking fairly disinterested. Some individuals swayed from side to side and closed their eyes. The pastors, on the other hand, reminded me of battling rappers (close your eyes and enjoy that visual imagery for a moment), for each one held a microphone and danced around with various hand gesticulations taking turns between the Spanish and Kichwa verses.

The sermons were very emotive, each pastor drawing comparisons between daily life in Esperanza and biblical times. The most expressive pastor (the one with the laptop) drove home the message that although Jesus was poor, he always made sure to wash the feet of those who entered his house. He said it was important for people to take this message and always have a glass of water ready or some food available for a guest that enters their house. Much of the sermon was conducted in Kichwa, but his gesticulations were very well-rehearsed and my Kichwa is getting a little better, to the point that I could follow his narrative.

People are very willing to discuss their faith here, but it isn't until you talk to them for awhile that they begin to open themselves up and discuss things that Evangelicalism usually prohibits (like shamanism, for example). I spoke with one comunero who knew a great deal about curanderismo, a sort of traditional style of healing (which now often falls under the less- stigmatized name of naturalist healing). He told me that guinea pigs (cuy) function similarly to MRI and X-ray scans. Whatever illness an individual may have can be detected by looking at the body of a live guinea pig, after anointing it in oil, blowing cigarette smoke over it, and passing it around the body of the sick person. Some people cut open the guinea pig, and whatever part of it "looks sick" is said to be the part affecting the person. This isn't really used that often anymore in the community, but when it does, it's usually pretty underground (because Evangelicalism prohibits "the old in favor of the new," or so it is often put).