Ecuador

Friday 6/24/2011 - Inti Raymi Men's Dances: Day 1

Today was the feast day of San Juan Bautista (St. John the Baptist), first introduced by colonial Spanish Catholic priests. Since it falls so close the summer solstice, the Kichwa celebrate it as a hybrid holiday. The festivities span around 9 days, but the most important days are today and tomorrow, when the men from the neighboring communities would descend on Cotacachi, in the toma de la plaza, an attempt to symbolically take over the square from the legacy of their colonial oppressors. Women only dance on July 1, known as warmi puncha (women's day), which coincides with the feast day of Santa Lucia.

We woke up at 7 a.m. and took showers. The weather was cold and rainy, so we dressed appropriately for a day outdoors. We went to the house at 9 o'clock for breakfast. We had warmed uvilla juice, crepes with mora jelly, and papaya juice. We mentioned that we had heard music and dancing late last night. The family explained that the dancers had been on their way to ritually bathe in the river at the bottom of the gorge in preparation for today's festivities.

Shortly after breakfast, Antonio mentioned that he had to heat up the chicha because the San Juan dancers would be stopping in on their way to Cotatachi. Rosa also threw a large pot of mote (hominy) on the fire. We could hear the dancers as they approached. They marched down the driveway and into the yard. Some wore zamarros (sheepskin chaps). Some wore oversized black cardboard San Juan hats. Some carried aciales (leather whips). Some were wearing camouflage. Some had masks or bandanas over their faces, looking like outlaws. They played flutes, harmonicas, mouth organs, or blew on conch shells. Antonio joined them on his flute.

The men danced in circles on the patio, drank warm chicha and boxes of wine, and ate Rosa's mote. They poured drinks for Craig and myself. They called us "comadre" and "compadre". One of the men asked Craig where his zamarros were, and if he would join them dancing in Cotacachi. We honestly had no idea if Craig would be dancing with the men. Was that even appropriate? A white man dancing with the indigenous as they symbolically rise up against their oppressors? It could be seen as a sign of solidarity, or it could be seen as cultural appropriation. They seemed to be accepting us as part of the community since we became godparents to Sisa, but you never know how other people may really feel about it. Craig just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to just play it by ear when the time came.

Antonio told us he'd see us in the afternoon, and he marched off with the dancers toward Cotacachi. This is known as la largada de los sanjuanes (departure of the San Juan dancers).

Sisa went next door to play with her cousins and Yupanqui took a long nap. Sisa returned and we had lunch at 12:45 - melloco, chicken, potato salad, and beets. We ate quickly and then got ready to go to Cotacachi. Sisa was all dressed up in traditional clothes like she had been when they met us at the airport. Unlike yesterday when the children danced, the toma de la plaza was an important occasion worthy of dressing up.

A pickup truck was supposed to get us at 1:30 so that we would be in Cotacachi by 2:30. It didn't show up, so we walked down the hill toward Quiroga. At a little after 2 o'clock, a truck stopped in front of us. It was quite full. We climbed in the back. One family had a bucket of fruit and it spilled all over the truck bed. Craig only had one handhold. A baby was dangling off its mom's back over the tailgate. It was a wild ride. We stopped in Quiroga to let some people off, but Rosa hired the driver to continue on to Cotacachi. This cost a mere $1.

When we arrived in Cotacachi, we walked toward the square to see if Antonio and the Morochos men were dancing yet. When we didn't find them there, Aida went to a phone booth to call Antonio on his cell. He told her the location where the men were eating lunch, and we walked several blocks to it.

The dancers were psyching themselves up. They were eating and drinking. It was chilly and sprinkling rain. Aida gave Antonio some lunch she had packed. It started raining harder, and the dancers in their zamarros and exagerrated hats, along with their wives and families who came for support, packed in underneath a sheltered area.

We ran into the woman Craig had danced with at the baptism party, Rosita. She had her infant daughter and a little girl around Sisa's age named Natalie. Sisa seemed to be proud of us and smiled and chatted about us to Natalie. At around 3:00, the rain died down again, and it was time for the Morochos dancers to go to the square. In lockstep, the dancers thundered forward, whistling, with Antonio playing a sanjuanito tune on his flute.

Soon afterwards, we followed them to the square. The square was packed full of (mostly indigenous) spectators today. Police in full riot gear (shields, helmets, and gas masks) stood at the ready. The symbolic nature of the taking of the square seems obvious. It is a reversal of social order, where the traditionally marginalized Kichwa people take their destiny into their own hands and rise above the mestizos. We don't see a whole lot of mestizos or tourists in the crowd. It is a day for the Kichwa.

Swirling mobs of dancers from various neighboring communities converged on each corner of the square. Each group was surrounded by an entourage of wives and family, who supplied their men with food, drink, and support during the dance.

As the Morochos men arrived at a corner of the plaza, the musicians congregated in the center of the group of men and the dancers revolved around them, changing direction every few minutes. The sanjuanito song is in 2/4 time, which makes it easy for the dancers to stomp to the beat. Their footfalls add percussion to the music and perform the ritual function of waking up the earth. Fueled by music and alcohol, the men slipped into a trance-like state as they concentrated on the dance.

After a while, the groups shifted and marched down the straightaway to the next corner. There was tension between groups for dominance. It felt as though conflict might arise if the groups were allowed to get too close to one another. The women and kids followed the men around the plaza and acted as a buffer between rival groups.

The Morochos men invited Craig to dance with them. We could tell that they were sincere in their request; we were honorary community members and they wanted Craig to participate. This was all the encouragement that he needed. He was immediately absorbed into the mass of bodies, and stomped his way into a state where he was functioning as part of a collective being. Some of the stronger men acted as motivators for the group, encouraging the weaker, more tired participants. They also set the pace and decided when to change directions, all the while trying to act as a buffer between their dancers and the police, to try to avoid any confrontations. It was a high-energy activity and the men bonded with one another. The physical exertion is viewed as a ritual sacrifice.

I stood with the wives and kids. Craig soon became hot and needed to offload his rain jacket. He threw it to me while he was dancing and I was filming a video. I caught it with one hand and kept filming. Sisa was right down next to the action but was not frightened by the dancers or their zamarros, as she had been yesterday. She held hands with her friend Natalie and danced along from the sidelines, caught up in the festival atmosphere.

We followed them around for more than a complete circuit of the square, but then Natalie's mom needed to nurse the baby. So we returned to the church steps and watched from there. Aida bought Sisa a cotton candy, and Sisa shared with all of us.

After babies were fed, we were on the move again and saw Craig walking towards us, drenched in sweat. He had made 1 3/4 revolutions around the square. He got out just in time as police were starting to shunt the dancers away from the square because time was up. Antonio told Craig that they would do it all over again tomorrow.

Craig and I debriefed one another on what had happened during his time with the men and mine with the women. The men had been very welcoming to him, and had provided him with three shots of alcohol to fuel the dancing. I had enjoyed my time with the women and kids, taking in the scale of the festivities and documenting what I saw.

Inti Raymi, Friday

It was time to go home, so we walked to the bus station. We didn't get on to the first bus because it was standing room only. It had been much too tiring an afternoon to stand all the way back to Quiroga. We waited for the next bus, where we actually got seats. Aida asked me to watch Yupanqui while she made a trip to the bathroom. He screamed. Once again, I felt like I might be perceived as a gringa trying to kidnap this poor child. Luckily, since the baptism party, we were pretty well known in town. Some friends of the family offered to take him from me but they had no success in stopping his tantrum. I appreciated the help, though.

We caught a connecting bus from Quiroga to Morochos, and got seats on that leg as well. When we got off the bus, Max the dog came running to greet us like Dino greets Fred Flintstone. We went to our room to decompress a bit. We ate our "Love and Quiches" brownie which was leftover from our flight.

After a rest, we went to the kitchen. Sisa, clearly inspired by the day's events, set up Aida, Craig, and myself to dance with her around the kitchen. Every so often she stopped, clapped, and said bravo. We felt a bit bad for being in Rosa's way while she cooked dinner, but she was amused by it. Sisa was practicing her culture, and that made the family proud.

For dinner, we had cabbage soup, melloco, radishes in lemon juice, beef in a nice marinade, and rice. They drank unsweetened chicha, and we drank Coke. Yupanqui had been very chatty and animated all day and this was no exception. He's such a happy baby (except for when I was holding him on the bus!)

After eating, we headed to our room around 9 o'clock to rest up to do it all over again tomorrow, same time, same place.