It was only appropriate that I woke to heavy rain splattering on the window and pavement on my last day in El Placer. I had settled into the gentle cycle of each day like the hummingbirds never failing to drink from Rina’s exotic flowers. I was not ready to leave the easy friendliness, rich empanadas –oil dripping down my fingers, nor the sweeping view of the Andes across from Rina’s house. Not to mention, there was still so much left to be done.
The last ten days were full of meetings, trail building, and other preparation for our weekend conference with Red Pakariñan, a non-profit supporting 14 community tourism programs in Southern Ecuador. I had committed to this series of workshops shortly after I began this project with Quinde Warmi. I connected with Eli, the technical director who has served as an invaluable mentor to Sami and me, and she suggested that a weekend of workshopping with the mamas may unite them toward a common vision for their budding organization. I eagerly agreed. The date was set for the weekend just before my flight back to the States and it arrived as if the month prior had been a time lapse.
The first day of workshopping began at 4am when I woke suddenly to the buzzing of my cell phone.
“We’re here!” Eli exclaimed when I picked up groggily.
“We’ll be right there!”
I pulled on my DU sweatshirt and padded down the hallway to wake up Rina. We stumbled up her slippery entranceway, the night thick with chirping from dozens of frogs and insects and made our way to the parking lot lookout at the end of town.
Pakariñan is based out of Cuenca, a city seven hours south of El Placer. To exploit our time completely, Eli and five of her colleagues drove through the night to meet us. The plan was for them to stay with six different mamas from Friday to Sunday, acquainting themselves with the village and reserve during the day and leading workshops with Quinde Warmi during the evenings, when the mamas were available. The workshops covered topics such as family financial planning, the core values of community tourism, customer service, and the mission and vision of Quinde Warmi. Lectures and presentations were broken up with team-building games and everyone participated fully. During one, we circled up, held hands, and attempted to pass a loop of ribbon around each of us as quickly as possible. Rina and I used our interlocked hands to flip the ribbon up and over our heads and then hopped through. The room echoed with our laughter that didn’t halt for the entire activity.
While the women were busy with their farms and homemaking during the day, I toured the nearby trails and reserve with the members from Pakariñan. On Friday, after a few hours of rest from their 4am arrival, I acted as their guide on the Sendero de Contrabandistas or Trail of the Bootleggers. This trail was used for smuggling alcohol between two cities during the mid-20th century when alcohol was outlawed, and it has been maintained since. It also crosses a few waterfalls and serves as an excellent route for birdwatching. The staff from Pakariñan followed me as we hiked up, Omar and Diego, the photographers meandering behind, lingering to capture the luscious landscape with their drone. They asked me about the nearby farms, local flora and fauna, and the background of the Cerro Candelaria Reserve. I was surprised by my thorough responses and chuckled to myself; I am the gringa tour guide for the Ecuadorians. The next day we were joined by Sami, a few mamas, and an EcoMinga park guard to climb up to Soledad, the Cerro Candelaria research station. The members of Pakariñan oogled at the view around every curve of the trail, the various orchids blooming, and the 12 waterfalls we crossed before arriving. I never forget the breathtaking beauty of this hike but experiencing it again through the eyes of first-time visitors reminded me of its majesty.
When we arrived at the Soledad research station, I pulled off my muddy rubber boots and wandered through the cabin in my damp socks. I watched Diego set up the drone and it took off buzzing above us. Sami joined us a few moments later and I met her in the kitchen to begin cooking lunch. We lit the stove and measured out rice and lentils for the whole group. As more women joined in the kitchen, I retired to a wooden bench nearby capturing scenes with my camera. When lunch was ready, I carried heavy plates laden with generous spoonfuls of rice, lentils, tuna, and patacones, which are fried and smashed plantains, out to the benches surrounding a smokey fire. We gathered together sharing stories and digging into our rich food against the backdrop of the vibrant cloud forest which had begun to softly rain. Warmth seeped into my body as I absorbed the chatter and laughter of both new friends and old. It was my last day in the reserve of this trip and although tinges of sadness blurred the edges, the focal point was on the radiant light of a new beginning.
We finally managed to acquire all of the reusable bags in time for the workshop and my departure. They turned out beautifully with the Quinde Warmi colorful logo on durable jean fabric in a size that will fit most of their weekly groceries. I have brought seven back to the states that are available for purchase at a minimum donation of $20. I am also working with Eric, the director of Pakariñan to establish an online platform for international donations to Quinde Warmi. With your donations, the mamas will improve their tourism infrastructure such as constructing a bathroom at their hummingbird cabana, creating an orchid collection, and building a small hostel to house larger groups. Due to the higher value of money there, every dollar makes a significant difference. We can also utilize these bags to reduce our plastic consumption, too!
On my last day in El Placer, Eli from Pakariñan had decided to stay an extra day to work more closely with the mamas on their mission and vision. There was an additional topic she was going to broach that was near to my heart. In the past two weeks, Sami and I went door-to-door speaking with the youth of the community about forming a group to support community-based tourism and conservation from the perspective of future generations. Many agreed yet didn’t show at the meeting times we planned. By the weekend of the Pakariñan workshop, we had a core group of five young women, including Sami and I, who were committed to shaping El Placer for good. The barrier we were facing, however, was the exclusive culture of Quinde Warmi and the traditional value of generational knowledge; the opinions of young folks are not respected and valued. The latter is inherent in many Latin American countries because the parents and grandparents, especially the fathers and grandfathers, are expected to make decisions. Youth speaking out is often viewed as disrespectful and offensive. Yet through the slow and gentle integration of young people into the decisions of Quinde Warmi and El Placer as a whole, we hope to slowly change this.
Throughout the weekend, our group of young women listened and shared ideas with Eric, Eli, and some of the other colleagues from Pakariñan and decided on four different projects for each girl in the village. Sami would continue my project connecting tour agencies to El Placer. Gabi would lead our social media presence. Jeni would expand the reusable bag production. Tania would initiate a project selling juices and baked goods to tourists. On Monday evening, we presented our initiatives to the mamas. Although met with support, Quinde Warmi decided that rather than expanding beyond a homestay organization, they wanted us to form our own group. Many mamas did not desire to lead tourists on long trails through the forests, but rather support them from their homes. They pledged their mentorship and connection to our group but insisted that the funds we make through our personal initiatives should aid this youth group in particular to grow. From this, Nina Kuru, meaning “firefly” in Quechua, was born. Shortly after this decision, I left the village for the airport in Quito and we exchanged rapid texts in our Whatsapp group about the logo, the process of starting an Ecuadorian NGO, and everything in between. I was invigorated by my colleagues’ passion and quick dedication to our beginning group. The name could not be more suitable. We will set the world on fire.
Throughout the last six weeks, I learned un montón— Ecuadorian slang for a ton, about the culture, barriers, and needs of the women and people of El Placer. I was amazed by the changing culture towards conservation and ecotourism if provided an alternative to agriculture. It did not surprise me that the women face greater challenges to leadership opportunities and investing in their own organization than their male counterparts. These facts may likely be translated on a national or continental scale when considering sustainable development. With all I’ve collected from this experience, I am applying for a Fulbright Open Research Grant to return to Ecuador and continue this critical work with El Placer after I finish my graduate degree next year.
Additionally, I want to express tremendous gratitude to the community of El Placer, the women of Quinde Warmi, and all the others who have supported me during this journey. It is always a pleasure indulging in your unique culture, receiving your unprecedented kindness, and sharing your beautiful home. You all are the reason I persist with this challenging work and continue to return.
As those of us in the Western US watch as our mountains burn and those of us in the East watch as our cities flood, we realize our innate connection to one another through our environment. It does not matter if we greet our families in Spanish or English when returning home or if it’s desert or cloud forest breathing outside our windows. Together we make up Pachamama—Quechua for Mother Earth and we take care of each other when we take care of her.