Pics from June 23

My peas, beans, and corn (choclo) lunch.
Don´t expect me to eat that at home when it isn´t fresh, mom

Matilda cleaning ponchos

The pinecone brush

The wool pulled from the pinecone brush (which was pulled from the poncho). See how it can be spun into yarn again?

Preparing the loom to weave

The hand-embroidered shirt Matilda made

The hand-embroidered shirt sleeve

Fixing a broken string after showing me how to weave

Spinning more yarn so I could weave

See that smile? It´s because I don´t know what I´m doing...

But I can fake it, right?

Look at me go. Yea, um, no. I weave very slowly...

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

We discovered yesterday while waiting in Peguche center for Stuckart that the bus comes much closer to our homes (less walking). We tried it today, and it went well.
Olga is my informant today. She’s easier to understand, as her pronunciation of words (accent, I suppose) is more what I’m used to. I think she tries to enunciate when she’s talking to me. She also talks slower than Matilda.

Matilda and Olga went to Guayaquil on Saturday in order to sing Christian songs. It takes 9 hours in a car to get to Guayaquil, which they didn’t consider very far. I disagree. People here say everything is close, though (“muy cerca”). They also said it is very hot there. I found out it was their first time in Guayaquil.
There are 7 people in their group: 6 girls and only 1 male. On Sundays, they sing in churches around the area: Agato, Calpaqui, Morocho, Caravuela, Otavalo, etc. Olga and Matilda have been singing in a group since 1994.

Olga said they don’t observe Inti Raymi because they don’t like the celebration. She also said it’s a Catholic celebration and they’re Evangelical. Jason’s family also told him that it is a Catholic celebration. It’s interesting, since all of the literature we read in preparation told us that it was pre-Incan, influenced by the Incas (Inti Raymi; also celebrated in Peru), and then changed again by the Catholic Spaniards (San Juan).
Olga showed me more pictures today, so I could see them singing in various places.

They asked if I wanted choclo to eat, and there was much giggling when I said I didn’t know what it was. They explained that it was food; I asked what kind. They brought out a bowl full of peas, 5 different kinds of beans (one was mijoco), and corn on the cob. Oh, so this is choclo (corn on the cob).

We cleaned ponchos with palos de maderas (pinecone brushes). You fold the poncho in half over a pole that is about 5.5 feet off the ground and parallel to the floor. You brush with both hands at the same time, in theory at the same rate (on opposite sides of the poncho). Then, you move it askew a bit and brush the middle. When one side is done, you flip it and repeat the process. It’s harder than it looks – like everything else I’ve tried. I can’t brush at the same pace with both of my hands, so the poncho kept falling off. Problem-solver Matilda brilliantly took a huge needle and pinned the poncho to itself right underneath the pole so it couldn’t fall off. I decided that it’s a good way to take out aggression because you have to be rough to do a good job. I found out that my left arm is weaker than my right (or something) because I had to do the left side more every time. Like every other job I’ve tried so far, this one is somewhat tedious.
Matilda showed me that the wool pulled off a poncho when cleaning can be spun back into thread and reused to weave again. I’m fascinated by their knowledge and how they’ve found a way to use and reuse everything. They have to clean all of the ponchos with these brushes to get off any imperfections they missed by hand and to make the cloth much softer by making some fibers stand out.

The Terán family makes shirts and ponchos. Matilda told me that they can make 10 complete ponchos – each consisting of a front and back piece – during a 12 hour time span. They usually weave from 6:00 AM to 6:00 PM.
Matilda works with Carmen, weaving, but she can embroider, too. She made a brown flowered strip that is for indigenous women’s shirt sleeves. It took her 3 weeks to embroider the strip by hand! She said it took the same amount of time to embroider by hand the big red flowers on the cloth that will become the main body of a shirt the Otavalo indigenous women wear.


I learned from Matilda that her dad left when she was a little girl. She has one older brother who lives with him somewhere other than Peguche or Otavalo. Her dad has another wife now, and they have 3 girls and 4 boys. She doesn’t see him. There are no men in their life, as her mom never remarried and she and Olga don’t have boyfriends or husbands.

Matilda asked if I wanted to learn how to weave. Of course; why not? So, she set up the treadle loom. She had to roll the cloth so it was at the right spot. Then, she tightened it, but it was too short to stay, so she had to tie the pole down. Then, she demonstrated how to weave. I did my best to document the process for our research purposes, while trying to follow along, but I couldn’t figure out the feet. While showing me how to weave, Matilda ran out of string on the shuttle, so she had to spin more so that I could try to weave. I took a video of her changing the shuttle and weaving.
Then – all too soon – it was my turn to weave. As I had predicted, the footwork proved to be my nemesis. The hands do the easy work: pass the shuttle through the channel of strings and smoosh it with the bar when the shuttle is on the other side. The feet are important because they determine which channel of strings will be open. By the time I figured out the pattern (left center, right center, outside right, outside left – I think), my hands were now messing up. Haha. So much for Crook’s Farm being my pre-training…

Pics from June 19

Michi on the left, Jose Pepe on the right

Cutting ponchos apart

Good idea? I think not, since I can´t cut a straight line with guides...

Olga´s ´templates,´if you will, of designs. She looks at these, but I think she free-hand draws the pattern onto the shirt she´s working on. No uniformity here (and I love it!)

A sample of Olga´s embroidery

There I am, embroidering. It looks like I actually know what I´m doing in this picture, but don´t let it fool you.

The Singer machine still throws me (makes me think of Regina and JoAnn Fabrics)... I just didn´t expect Singer down here.

Some patterns. Olga has a shirt with the church designs. She actually wore it the other day.

Friday, June 19

Ponchos
When I arrived at the Terán home, Matilda and Carmen were working with ponchos. They asked me to cut apart red ponchos. Once they had all been cut, Matilda, Carmen and I began to groom red and white ponchos by picking any little twigs out by hand. Matilda and I continued with this task and Doña Carmen began to fix ponchos that had strings sticking out or little holes from mistakes made while weaving. I believe Carmen told me the red ponchos are to sell in Spain, but I’m not sure.
The prices for ponchos are: $12 – adults; $9 – for kids; $5 – really small

While we were cleaning ponchos, Michi – the female cat – flipped. Literally, she pounced on José Pepe, and somehow, she ended up a foot off the ground, doing a back flip. It was quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve ever seen! I wish I had it on tape; it would be a winner on America’s Funniest Home Videos. When she flipped, she landed on the poncho I was cleaning. I didn’t know what had happened; just saw a kitty flying at me. She meowed and took off running. When I looked up to figure out what had just occurred, apparently, my face was aghast. Matilda and Carmen found it funny, making the moment even more hilarious. We laughed for a good 5 minutes. When Olga came back, they each had to tell her the story, with more laughing each time. It was a good moment!

Olga makes and embroiders shirts for indigenous women. Prices vary depending on the difficulty of the embroidering. A shirt with roses and more colors costs more: $25, while a smaller and simpler shirt costs less: $20. I was a bit shocked by the prices. I honestly expected them to be more expensive for the amount of time and effort that goes into them. Also, I know that traditional indigenous clothing has gotten really expensive, so I expected it to be more costly. I suppose that is expensive, though, for people who may only make $10 in a day at the market.

Olga works the machine with a foot pedal and changes the color of the thread by hand. She has to guide the cloth by hand to make sure the machine embroiders the proper area. I was a bit surprised to see Olga use 2 Singer machines to do the shirt embroidering.
Olga said it takes approximately 1 day to embroider 1 shirt using the machine. If the shirt is more complicated, it takes longer.

Olga makes her own shirts, so she has quite a few. She said she likes that she can make whatever she wants. She even has some designs that are just for her, not to sell. She also makes all of Matilda and Carmen’s shirts. When she has time, she helps Carmen, but she mostly makes shirts.
She has several scraps with example patterns in all kinds of designs: peacocks, snails, rabbits, strawberries, symbols of the church (for her, not for sale), flowers, people, etc.

Olga taught me – or tried to, rather – how to embroider. I was so excited at the prospect of making Grandma proud, but I don´t think my ¨work¨would elicit that emoition... Let’s just say it was pretty rough. I had difficulty keeping a steady rhythm with my foot, as the pedal seemed to stick often. Olga had to help me get started and restarted (and restarted…) by spinning the wheel on the machine (the one I was supposed to be spinning with my foot). Once I got going, though, I did alright for a while. I was really bad at guiding the cloth when I first began, but then I got a better feel for the pace and motion, and I did a little better. My work is pretty bad, but I did improve as I did more. That gives me hope that maybe, with lots of practice, I could be decent.
It was fun when Olga was teaching me because everyone kept stopping in to see what was going on and how the gringo was doing. It wasn’t in a harsh manner, though. They were just curious how I was doing, surprised/excited that I really am willing to try everything they do.

In Ecuador, floras de pensamientos (pansies) are used as medicine for headaches. A family buys pansies when they are little, plants them around the house, and then they can used them whenever they are needed. It’s an interesting home remedy.

I met Diego, a cousin/neighbor. He helped Olga think of words to teach me in Quichua. Then, they asked me what words were in English. They were disappointed that we don’t have a name for Diego and that Matilda and Olga are the same. I told them that Michael is Miguel, and they got this mischievous look on their faces, like they were going to call Stuckart Miguel the next time they saw him. It was fun to share the learning experience. I like being a student, but teaching is fun, too.

While waiting for Jason, I also met Segundo. He lives in the corner white house that serves as the meeting point for Jason and me. While I was waiting, Segundo began a conversation with me. He told me that he lived in Boston and LA, and he wants to practice his English. He was really nice and interested in what we are doing. Either the people here are better at faking than at home, or most people are genuinely interested in/excited for us. I told Segundo we were here to study Inti Raymi and its effect on textiles. Like everyone else, he wanted to know if I danced. I told him, “Yes, I like to dance, but I don’t know this kind of dancing.” His response was, “The dancing of Inti Raymi is like a Pow-Wow but different.” (After seeing Inti Raymi dancing, I agree)

Quichua
Diego, Olga, and Matilda asked if I knew any words in Quichua, and I said yes (the first 2 on the list). Then, they asked if I was interested in learning Quichua. I said yes, but just a little because it’s hard. This is what they taught me:
Pacha mama – whole world; mother earth
Taita – father
ñaña – hermana
guyoki – hermano
churi – hijo
kayacama – hasta mañana
guting shamugi – vendra otra vez
alipunja – buenos dias
alichishi - buenos tardes
alitota – buenas nochas
shepay shepay – go (cats)
chukshi – go (dog)
Now you can see why I said it is difficult…

Making Regina proud :)

And the rest of the VanScoys, I´m sure. See, Crook´s Farm pays off! Haha.
This is definitely a step back in time to the ¨real deal,¨ as Stuckart always reminds us.

This is my typical work space.

My spinning wheel (I´ve adopted it)

That´s my work

Here I am

Spinning the yarn from the bamboo thing onto the spool

It´s hard to see, but this is my hand after spinning all day. It´s black and red from the dye. I looked a sight...

My spools (I did that!)

:) So proud...

Laundry, Terán Style

The pile of ponchos

Matilda cutting the ponchos apart

Filling the wash basin using the little blue bucket

Loading the wheelbarrow

I like the kitty looking on

Matilda washing ponchos and her feet at the same time :P

I told her that we wouldn´t need showers after that (I pretty much looked like I´d just taken one with my clothes on by the time we were done...I think I might need a little more practice)!

Rinsing ponchos in the ´stream´

Let me tell you, that water is COLD!

Taking the laundry out of the basin

Beginnings

Well, I figure it’s about time I update everyone on what I’ve been doing.
Here are my field notes (hey, I don´t have that much time...) from the beginning of my research with a family in a little town called Peguche. It’s about 2 miles from here; a 15 minute bus-ride ($0.18 one way). My family consists of 3 women: Doña Carmen Terán (mom) and her 2 daughters, Matilda and Olga. It’s quite possible that they are the nicest people I’ve ever met.

Monday, June 15
My initial reactions:
How am I going to find my way back here alone? Where are the men in the family/ what happened to them? Will I get an accurate idea of how things are done even though there is no gender division? Am I really just going to be an imposition? What exactly do I need to find out from them?

They seem like really nice and open people. I’m really glad this is my family because I feel comfortable with them.
This is more what I expected Otavalo to be like; although, I admit (ethnocentric), that I’m not sure I could do it.

Tuesday, June 16
When I arrived at Doña Carmen’s house, they asked right away if I wanted to learn what they do. I said yes. They asked if I wanted to learn everything. I said sure. I’m pretty sure that was my in. They were/are all excited that I am willing to learn and work. Doña Carmen immediately told me to follow her into the weaving room. She began to spin the wool from la livana – a box-shaped frame made of bamboo that holds large bundles of lana (yarn) – onto a spool (palabra?) using el torno vanco – which I can only describe as a bicycle wheel connected to a box that holds the spool. The wheel moves the spool via a string that goes all the way around both the outside of the wheel and a metal spoke that the spool fits onto (actually, a wooden cylinder fits onto the spoke, and the spool fits onto the wooden cylinder).

After a few minutes, she asked if I wanted to try. I sat on the little stool, trying to fit and remember everything I had just seen her do. I had never felt so clumsy and inadequate before trying to use this contraption. I began spinning the wheel, but I couldn’t make it move consistently. The rope kept getting in the way, as I was trying to spin the wheel from the outside. Every time I would look at the wheel, willing it to work and trying to figure out what I was doing wrong, I would mess up the string on the spool. Usually, it would wind around the metal prong that held the spool. Once Doña Carmen showed me to turn the wheel from the spokes inside, things went much smoother. I still messed up – breaking the string, losing control and winding it too loosely or around the prong – but I was able to establish some sort of rhythm (I’m sure it was much slower than how they work). I did this all day and decided that I like it because it’s very relaxing, although I’m pretty sure I would get very bored if that was all I had to do all day, every day.

A cousin, who lives next door and Doña Carmen were cleaning ponchos by picking out any imperfections in the yarn and any little twigs. They spoke in Quichua and giggled a lot. I learned right off the bat that there would be a lot of laughing in this house of women. Olga was in a back room, connected to the weaving room, embroidering, and Matilda was outside – I’m not sure what she was doing.

I think I passed some sort of test when I said my hands didn’t hurt after spinning. They did hurt a little – the friction is rough on my fingers, not used to doing this kind of work. My right hand actually hurt more from spinning the wheel because it goes over the back of my hand. I’m pretty sure I have bruises on my fingers…

Matilda is my main informant. It seems as though I’ve been assigned to her, or perhaps she just took me under her wing. Regardless, I really like her. She seems patient and really nice. I spend most of my time either with her or alone, as Olga often goes in the back to embroider or outside to cook, and I’m not sure what the others do. They seem content to leave me working.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009
I asked Matilda the words in Spanish for the machines/devices they use, and I have inserted them into my notes from yesterday (since I had no words for these contraptions in English).
I had the distinct feeling that I was more of a hindrance than a help, but they make me feel as though I am doing them a favor (although the other way around is more truthful).

Today, I did laundry with Matilda. First, we cut the ponchos apart, as they make several at a time and leave them connected, I’m thinking because it’s easier than having to set up the loom again. Then, we loaded up the wheelbarrow with the poncho parts (they take two of the long narrow strips and sow them together; the seam goes over the shoulders; then, they add the hood/collar, if there is going to be one on that particular poncho). I pushed the wheelbarrow, and Matilda carried the laundry soap, bucket, and wash basin. We walked the short path to the ‘stream.’

Matilda filled the basin with water by using the bucket. Then, she added blue, powdered laundry soap. When the bag was empty, she tossed it into the corralled stream and added a little more soap from another bag. Next, she used the bucket to mix the soap and water and create suds by dipping it in the wash basin and dumping it back into the basin over and over. Once the water was mixed and soapy, we added ponchos one at a time. We did the dark wash first. I put the ponchos into the water, and Matilda smooshed them down to make sure they were completely saturated (washing a little along the way) and also to make room for more ponchos. When the basin was full, she hopped into it and began pressing on the ponchos to wash them with her feet. Once they had all been thoroughly sudsed, we took them out one at a time to rinse them in the stream. Once a poncho had been washed, we tossed it to the bank across the stream to dry some while we continued to rinse others. Once the dark ponchos had all been rinsed, we dumped the dirty water back into the stream. (It occurred to me that this is most likely the water they use for cooking, and I shuddered to think what people upstream put into that water that eventually ended up in my food. I realized this was ethnocentric, but I longed for chlorine and hygiene… ) Then, we repeated this entire process for the white ponchos. This time, however, Matilda didn’t jump into the basin, as there weren’t as many whites and darks. We washed them using our hands to squish and mix.

Once all the ponchos had been washed and rinsed, we hopped to the other side of the stream and tossed the now somewhat dry ponchos into the wheelbarrow. We took about half of our load the first time. Matilda pushed the wheelbarrow back up the hill and across the street to a neighbor’s (who happened to be a cousin, I think) house. We hung the ponchos up on a drying rack (rather than clothes line). It looked like a large rectangle, with a beam going down the middle (for stability and more room to hang clothes) and was made of wooden poles ranging probably between 4 and 10 inches in diameter. I think Matilda really appreciated having me for this because I am taller than her, so this job was a little easier with me. She didn’t have many problems, though, because she just used a stick to fix any ponchos that were folded or hung unevenly. It just required more effort for her.

Then, we went back to the stream to get the rest of the ponchos. I made the mistake of pushing the wheelbarrow this time. Oh my goodness; I thought I was going to die! It was so heavy, and I’m a bit too tall for it. Wow! I don’t think I’ll complain about Dad’s wheelbarrow again… There wasn’t enough room at the neighbor’s house for the remainder of the ponchos; so (thankfully), Matilda pushed the wheelbarrow back to her house and we hung the ponchos on clothes lines strung every which way in front of and behind the Terán home.

Then, I resumed the job that is now apparently mine: spinning. On a couple different occasions, Matilda asked me to help her pick up the ponchos that had blown down at the neighbor’s house and hang them back up to finish drying. The neighbor’s house is better and worse for drying clothes because it is in the open, so it gets more sun and wind.

All in all, laundry was an exhausting, time-consuming process. My body ached afterwards, and I thought, “I couldn’t do this all the time!” Turns out, I might be building some muscles this summer… I’m continually surprised by how strong and agile the indigenous are for being such short, stout people.

Plaza de Ponchos

This is probably the most famous place in Otavalo. This is where the indigenous from all around come to sell their handmade goods. The market must be set up and taken down everyday. This takes about 2 hours each way. In my eyes, it´s a big waste of time (which to people in the US translates into $). Wouldn´t it be easier to have a permanent store or only bring a small selection? But it´s very competitive. If you don´t have it, the customer will move on until he finds someone who does. I guess that´s just their way.

This little man is carrying textiles that probably weigh about 180 pounds! He carrys them down the block to a warehouse for Doña Carmen.

I don´t remember what this building is, but it was so beautiful with the sun setting on it! It´s right next to the plaza.

Doña Carmen´s selection of necklaces - beautiful! If you look behind them, you can see her daughter, Yarina, eating an ice cream cone on the bottom right and her son, Brian Michael, on the bottom left. Some textiles are in the bottom foreground.

The big day for the market is Saturday. Wednesday is also fairly large. This was on an off day. You can see permanent booths, plus tarps that must be set up.

These are famous 2-faced masks. They are worn during Inti Raymi.

Doña Carmen´s goods

2-faced masks

Their work is so beautiful and vibrant!

Universidad Catolica de Ibarra

Or, the Catholic University of Ibarra. We went with Stuckart bright and early on Thursday morning so he could teach a class on tourism. It was pretty neat. He taught in Spanish and asked the students to respond in English. That meant that only a few people spoke, but it was good for them. The normal professor, Elizabeth Salvedraas, is beautiful and super nice. She has a very calming voice, and I wouldn´t mind taking a class with her. She speaks some English, too.
We went back on Friday evening for another class. Afterward, Elizabeth gave us a mini tour of Ibarra (in English - yay!). Stuckart teased her about being a tour guide, and she responded that it was only for me. :)
I really like her and it´s nice to have someone who can speak English. She tries really hard, and that impresses me. It´s also nice to be able to help her.
In Elizabeth´s first class, we met a student named Natali who really impressed us. She worked really hard to speak in English and respond when others wouldn´t. At the end, she approached Jason and I and asked if we could get together sometime. That took courage! We exchanged phone numbers and made plans to get together on Saturday. I´ll elaborate later w/ pics when i have time!


San Miguel (Saint Michael), the patron saint of Ibarra. This is waaaay up on a hill above the Univ., overlooking the city.

Their volleyball field. In the back in the soccer field. I´m surprised by how popular volleyball is here. It´s different than from at home, though. From the little I´ve seen, there are a lot of carries. Definitely couldn´t get away with that at home. Big Lor would be all over that...
I´m still waiting/hoping to see some games here.

The view from Andre´s office. Not bad, huh? Oh, Andres is a friend of Stuckart´s who teaches at this University. He speaks some English and is really nice. He is the one who came to Otavalo and took us out for pizza when we first arrived. That´s right, pizza. I was pumped! Haha

Campus & students (pretty much the same)

They have really pretty grounds

Haha, this made me think of Beyond...........

Nice little campus map

La Casa Echeverrio

This is our home away from home, the Echeverrio´s house, where Jason and I are staying
The computer...rare to find it empty, as it seems like someone is always on it

Living room looking into the dining room

They have these awesome ceiling windows. They let in tons of light. This one is in my bathroom.

That´s right, I have my own bathroom!

:)

My closet doors. On the left is the door for the hallway. Across the hallway, you can see the bathroom Jason uses. Across from the door to my room, behind my closet, is my bathroom.

My bed. Out the window on the left, the Echeverrios have two doggies :) They give me a distraction and fill my need for puppies (the strays just make me sad)