August 28, 2006, 1100
So I realized that most of my ramblings on this blog have been pretty self-centered. So I’m going to spend a little time reflecting on the social order I’ve encountered so far. There are essentially three racial categories in Ecuador: Indígena, Mestizo, and Negro (Spanish terms). These categories are pretty self-explanatory. The Indígena were here first and therefore have suffered the most. Although here in Otavalo and in the Northern Highlands in general, the Indígena have made a lot of progress in asserting their rights. Some of the indigenous groups are descended from the Incas, but many were here beforehand, and were conquered by them.
The Mestizos are the “mixed” race that resulted from the inter-breeding of the Spanish Conquistadors and the Indígenas. This is the largest group here in Ecuador and most of the politics in the country speak to its interests. In general, when we in the US think of Latin Americans, it’s the Mestizos who come to mind.
And finally there is a small population of Negros. I don’t know too much about the history of the black people here, but as a group they seem generally to be poor and undereducated. As far as I can tell, the Negros may be at the bottom of the social plan, but I think they certainly share that spot with a lot of the Indígenas.
This hierarchy appears to be very much a part of the thinking here, but it’s not absolute. As I mentioned, the Otavaleños (the indigenous group in and around Otavalo) have been pretty successful at climbing the economic and political ladder. The mayor of Otavalo is Indígena and there are quite a few wealthy Indígenas here due to the market. And when the Indígenas here want to make the government in Quito (the capital) sit up and listen to their demands, they have the ability to essentially shut down Quito through the use of paros – roadblocks set up to stop all traffic in and out of Quito. It would be as if the Native American population shut down all the roads in and out of Washington DC until President Bush adjusted his policies in a way that they liked. It’s pretty powerful maneuvering, and super bad ass if you ask me.
As far as economics and politics goes, well it’s just like it is in the US – those who have the money get the most and have the most power, those who are poor are not really much of a concern for the government (although it is a requirement that every adult vote). So rural schools like Muenala (as in the US) don’t get a lot of funding, while the schools in bigger towns and cities do. And as in the US, the government makes a lot of lofty promises to make the system more equal and to provide more for the poor, but most of these are empty gestures. That’s why I’m volunteering in a school where 30 students grades 1-6 have one teacher who has to rely on teaching methods that keep order (copying) rather than encourage creativity or a love of learning.
What’s been really fascinating is how the people I encounter think that the US has it all figured out. I’ve spoken to my host family about education and healthcare and other social issues, and they were shocked to learn that there are some really terrible schools in the US, and that there are millions of people who don’t get adequate healthcare, and that we have a problem with homelessness and poverty. Of course these are more exceptions to the rule than they are here, but I think it was surprising for folks in Ecuador to learn that some people in the richest country in the world has some of the same problems they do.
It’s also been interesting to discover how much everyone wants to know how much things cost in the US. These are difficult discussions to have. When my Spanish teacher, who makes $5 per hour, learned that I paid $30 per hour for similar lessons at home she assumed both my teacher at home and I are rich. What I had to explain is that everything costs more: rent, food, electricity, clothes, etc. Of course when I’m here I certainly see my money going a lot further, but it’s really hard to explain that it doesn’t work that way at home. My students constantly refer to me as rich, and therefore think I have endless resources to give to them. But when I think about my apartment and the things it contains, and the lifestyle I have, I guess I am rich compared to my students. That’s part of the perspective lesson I’m trying to gain here.
And then there are a few comical cultural differences – at least comical in reference to me. It is extremely strange to the people here that someone’s wife (me) would actually leave the country to do something like volunteer as a teacher. There is a disconnect for people when I mention that I’m married and my husband is back in Chicago. And it’s not really a cultural faux pas to ask women their age, so it’s usually a follow-up to the marriage question. That’s when I really get the shocked responses. “You are 31 years old and you don’t have any hijos?” Colleen’s host mother (the one famous for the orange/garlic/onion/radish drink) told me that it was too late, that I was too old to have children. She seemed very sad for me. At home I’m still pretty young (although not as young as I think), but here, I’m already an old maid! It’s super funny as I explain that it’s not unusual for women in the US to have children when they are 35 or older. That’s when I get the real gasps. Some of these women aren’t that far from being grandmothers at 35. Madre is 37 and her son will be 22 next month. But as a modern woman, she’s glad to know that he’ll wait a while to get married and have kids – maybe until 25 or 26.
I have to close by saying hat I love the people here. I feel pretty at home in Otavalo and in the community where I teach, even though I’m obviously the Gringa. I love the way my kids and their parents shake my hand when they pass me and say “Buenos Días.” I love how affectionate my kids can be – giving me hugs hello and goodbye and happily holding my hand as we walk to and from school. I love that my host family includes me as though I’m part of the family. I love that I’m beginning to be a regular in some of my favorite spots and therefore getting to know people that way. All in all, I feel very accepted here, and it’s a great feeling.
The Mestizos are the “mixed” race that resulted from the inter-breeding of the Spanish Conquistadors and the Indígenas. This is the largest group here in Ecuador and most of the politics in the country speak to its interests. In general, when we in the US think of Latin Americans, it’s the Mestizos who come to mind.
And finally there is a small population of Negros. I don’t know too much about the history of the black people here, but as a group they seem generally to be poor and undereducated. As far as I can tell, the Negros may be at the bottom of the social plan, but I think they certainly share that spot with a lot of the Indígenas.
This hierarchy appears to be very much a part of the thinking here, but it’s not absolute. As I mentioned, the Otavaleños (the indigenous group in and around Otavalo) have been pretty successful at climbing the economic and political ladder. The mayor of Otavalo is Indígena and there are quite a few wealthy Indígenas here due to the market. And when the Indígenas here want to make the government in Quito (the capital) sit up and listen to their demands, they have the ability to essentially shut down Quito through the use of paros – roadblocks set up to stop all traffic in and out of Quito. It would be as if the Native American population shut down all the roads in and out of Washington DC until President Bush adjusted his policies in a way that they liked. It’s pretty powerful maneuvering, and super bad ass if you ask me.
As far as economics and politics goes, well it’s just like it is in the US – those who have the money get the most and have the most power, those who are poor are not really much of a concern for the government (although it is a requirement that every adult vote). So rural schools like Muenala (as in the US) don’t get a lot of funding, while the schools in bigger towns and cities do. And as in the US, the government makes a lot of lofty promises to make the system more equal and to provide more for the poor, but most of these are empty gestures. That’s why I’m volunteering in a school where 30 students grades 1-6 have one teacher who has to rely on teaching methods that keep order (copying) rather than encourage creativity or a love of learning.
What’s been really fascinating is how the people I encounter think that the US has it all figured out. I’ve spoken to my host family about education and healthcare and other social issues, and they were shocked to learn that there are some really terrible schools in the US, and that there are millions of people who don’t get adequate healthcare, and that we have a problem with homelessness and poverty. Of course these are more exceptions to the rule than they are here, but I think it was surprising for folks in Ecuador to learn that some people in the richest country in the world has some of the same problems they do.
It’s also been interesting to discover how much everyone wants to know how much things cost in the US. These are difficult discussions to have. When my Spanish teacher, who makes $5 per hour, learned that I paid $30 per hour for similar lessons at home she assumed both my teacher at home and I are rich. What I had to explain is that everything costs more: rent, food, electricity, clothes, etc. Of course when I’m here I certainly see my money going a lot further, but it’s really hard to explain that it doesn’t work that way at home. My students constantly refer to me as rich, and therefore think I have endless resources to give to them. But when I think about my apartment and the things it contains, and the lifestyle I have, I guess I am rich compared to my students. That’s part of the perspective lesson I’m trying to gain here.
And then there are a few comical cultural differences – at least comical in reference to me. It is extremely strange to the people here that someone’s wife (me) would actually leave the country to do something like volunteer as a teacher. There is a disconnect for people when I mention that I’m married and my husband is back in Chicago. And it’s not really a cultural faux pas to ask women their age, so it’s usually a follow-up to the marriage question. That’s when I really get the shocked responses. “You are 31 years old and you don’t have any hijos?” Colleen’s host mother (the one famous for the orange/garlic/onion/radish drink) told me that it was too late, that I was too old to have children. She seemed very sad for me. At home I’m still pretty young (although not as young as I think), but here, I’m already an old maid! It’s super funny as I explain that it’s not unusual for women in the US to have children when they are 35 or older. That’s when I get the real gasps. Some of these women aren’t that far from being grandmothers at 35. Madre is 37 and her son will be 22 next month. But as a modern woman, she’s glad to know that he’ll wait a while to get married and have kids – maybe until 25 or 26.
I have to close by saying hat I love the people here. I feel pretty at home in Otavalo and in the community where I teach, even though I’m obviously the Gringa. I love the way my kids and their parents shake my hand when they pass me and say “Buenos Días.” I love how affectionate my kids can be – giving me hugs hello and goodbye and happily holding my hand as we walk to and from school. I love that my host family includes me as though I’m part of the family. I love that I’m beginning to be a regular in some of my favorite spots and therefore getting to know people that way. All in all, I feel very accepted here, and it’s a great feeling.
posted by Melissa In Ecuador at 5:34 PM
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