We woke up at 7 a.m. a bit groggy after a busy day yesterday. My nose had been running since last night, so I hoped that I was not on the verge of catching a cold. We went over to the house at 8:30. Aida had made omelettes and we had warm uvilla juice and coffee.
After breakfast, we played with Sisa at the table. She used a butter knife to saw off the legs of a little stand holding a vase. She's a smart cookie and likes to deconstruct things to figure out how they work. In just two days, we would be headed home after a wonderful visit. That meant that it was time to start thinking about logistics, such as our ride to the airport. We weren't sure that Antonio understood just how early we needed to get to the airport on Monday, so we called Felipe and asked if he could pass the message along in Spanish. He said he would call Antonio to say that we either a) need to be in Quito at 7 a.m. Monday or b) we need to return to Quito Sunday night and get a hotel room. With our departure so imminent, it became apparent that we wouldn't be seeing Felipe again this trip. We thanked him for coming to the baptism and for helping us out, and asked him to give our love to Maria Jose. While Aida gave Yupanqui a bath in a small plastic tub outdoors, Sisa sat on a reed mat with Abuelita, helping her to remove dried corn kernels from corncobs. Sisa was still wearing her walca necklace and makiwatana bracelets from yesterday; she had fallen asleep upon arriving home, so she was wearing her jewelry with her jammies. Sisa then took a bath and got dressed in her traditional finery for another day of Inti Raymi festivities. The San Juan dancers once again descended on our house, a little bit earlier in the morning this time. They asked Craig to join them in a dance on our patio. I took some video footage while they all danced in a circle on the patio. Sisa was a bit afraid of them at such a close distance. She could handle it in Cotacachi, but here in her own house, she was intimidated. After the dancing, Antonio gave Craig a pitcher of wine to offer to the other dancers. Rosa served them pork and potatoes. One man gave me a cup of chicha. Several people congratulated Craig on his performance yesterday, and asked if he would join in the festivities today as well. He thanked them for the opportunity, and said that he would indeed dance once we all got to Cotacachi. Several minutes after the dancers left, Antonio asked if we were ready. We weren't, as we had been expecting to leave after lunch, like yesterday. We went to the room, got our stuff together, and went to the bathroom. When we emerged, Antonio was already gone. Aida, Rosa, and the kids ushered us down the driveway and down the street. There was a pickup truck parked there. We assumed that it was our ride. Rosa walked right by it. Craig and I shrugged. I guess we had mininterpreted what was going on yet again. We kept walking. Dancers had stopped at a neighboring house for more food and drink and then caught up to us. The pickup truck turned around and drove past us. Then Rosa and Aida started to run to catch up with it. What was going on? We followed them, and all got into the truck. Wouldn't it have been easier to have gotten in when it was parked near the house? Oh well! We got into the back of a pickup truck which slowly followed the parade of dancers toward Quiroga. The truck then turned, taking a slightly different route to Quiroga, so we would beat the dancers there. When the dancers thundered into town, we joined a group of wives and other onlookers who fell into step behind the dancers. We marched all the way from Quiroga to Cotacachi together as it started to rain. We truly felt like we were storming the city. As soon as the dancers arrived in the square, they started to dance. I bought ice creams dipped in chocolate (with 2 cones on each because they were brittle) for all of us. We ate them as we followed the dancers around the circuit of the square. Antonio motioned for Craig to join in dancing with the men. Once again they rhythmically danced in circular patterns on the street corners of the Plaza de la Matriz. They would then march down the straightaways and supplant the prior group at the next corner. After about an hour or so the groups of dancers left the main square and started to dissipate down side streets. We did the same, and soon Craig and Antonio were walking towards us. The dance session was over. Craig and I assumed that this was it for the day, that today's schedule was a morning dance. Antonio led us into a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in a non-descript building for lunch. He ordered bowls of morocho corn soup containing pork and chicken drumsticks for Craig and me. The restaurant was running low on food, so the family just ate food they had brought from home. Craig and Antonio shared two bottles of Pilsener beer. We didn't realize it, but there was another whole round of dancing after lunch. With a stomach heavy from lunch and beer, Craig decided to sit out for a while. When he accidentally got separated from Rosa, Aida, the kids, and myself, he joined back in the dancing to stay with Antonio and the rest of the Morochos men. He said that today everyone was really nice to him, even nicer than yesterday if possible. Inti Raymi, Saturday Aida, Rosa, the kids and I sat on the church steps watching the festivities. In a far corner of the plaza we saw what looked like a small skirmish between the police and a group of dancers. We saw some smoke which I assumed was tear gas. The whole plaza seemed to gasp for breath at once, and there was an eerie silence. People sought higher ground by climbing up the church steps. You got the vague idea that you could be trampled if this escalated. Groups of dancers were disbanding. We didn't know where Craig and Antonio were. Aida ran into the crowd to find them, and eventually returned to the church steps with them. Antonio had told Craig that there were fights erupting between upper villagers and lower villagers, and had ushered him away from the danger. Aida ran off to find Craig and soon we were all reunited. It was surreal, and I was scared when Craig and I were not together. Ritual violence is no stranger to Inti Raymi / San Juan festivities as Michelle Wibbelsman writes in Ritual Encounters: Inti Raymi fights are considered an opportunity for leveling accounts and resolving conflict accumulated throughout the year...[Some believe in a] correlation between the loss of the San Juan tradition and rising day-to-day conflict in their communities.We walked down a side street and had a view back at the square. We could see a line of police clashing with dancers, and smoke filled the air. People climbed up to the balconies of a building which was under construction to try to get a bird's-eye-view of the conflict in the distance. I bought ice creams at the same little store as yesterday. The Morochos dancers started heading towards home (down Sucre street) and we followed. It seemed like we were walking home from here. We had already run all the way from Quiroga to Cotacachi. Then Craig had danced for several hours. We were exhausted, and the thought of hoofing it all the way back to Morochos was disheartening. Just then, a pick-up truck passed us and people in the back were yelling "Morochos!" It was a small bed pickup and was already jammed with people. There was definitely not room for 2 big gringos, but they insisted. We piled in along with Aida, Rosa, Rosita, and the kids (there were 21 of us total on the small bed of that pick-up, including some tiny infants). Craig was perched atop the tail gate, holding on for dear life. It was a wild ride back which cost us 50 cents each. When we arrived back at the house, we went back to our room to decompress. Felipe called and said he had talked to Antonio. Antonio would arrange a 4 o'clock or 4:30 a.m. pick up for us on Monday to make sure that we were at the airport on time for our return flight home. This was good news. We hadn't been confident enough in our Spanish to explain the nuances to Antonio ourselves. We went into the kitchen and Aida and Rosa made us hamburg patties, cauliflower, lentils, rice, and juice. We assumed Sisa and Antonio were both sleeping after the busy day. Then we heard a loudspeaker. Aida and Rosa listened very closely. We found out then that Antonio wasn't home at all, he was in Quiroga with the other Morochos men. The announcement said a fight had broken out in Quiroga and police used tear gas to dispel it. The mood immediately switched from levity to a more somber atmosphere. Rosa and Aida were afraid for Antonio's safety. Rosa headed down to Quiroga with some of the other village wives immediately. Aida was nervous and distracted herself by dancing with Yupanqui in her arms. I washed the dishes, the only real way I could help in this uncertain situation. We felt like we didn't know enough about the culture to understand what was going on (we hadn't been aware of the propensity for ritual violence during Inti Raymi until I researched it after the fact). Yupanqui needed to go to bed so we reluctantly left the house to Aida and him, but told her to call us if she needed anything. We didn't like going to bed without knowing how Antonio was. We went to our room at 8:30 p.m., worried about the fate of the family patriarch. |
Abuelita and Sisa pick kernels off of the corn cob Inti Raymi dancers stop at the house for food and drink before marching to Cotacachi Inti Raymi dancers stop at the house for food and drink before marching to Cotacachi Following the Inti Raymi dancers in a pick-up truck Marching with the Inti Raymi dancers from Quiroga to Cotacachi Yupanqui Iglesia de la Matriz Sisa Craig dances sanjuanitos with the Morochos men Craig dances sanjuanitos with the Morochos men Rosa and Sisa Craig and Sisa See more photos from this day |
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