7 days in Otavalo and still going...

Back to the writing pad. Sorry to all who have been waiting. It's just that this place has been too much fun and extremely busy and crazy and we moved in with a family and I have a bad cold and we started intensive spanish classes...

Arrived here last friday, just in time to get the last hostal room available. It gets crazy here on friday nights as tourists arrive in bus loads to take part in the famous OTAVALO MARKET (dates back to pre-inca times and is the largest crafts market in South America).

As well, our timing could not have been better as we arrived THE NIGHT of the beginning of 2 weeks of processions, music and dancing in the streets, fireworks, the election of the fiesta queen, and a ton of special food and drinks to celebrate the biggest party of the year, the FIESTA DEL YAMOR. Festivities which celebrate the recoltes, nature's gifts ...

It was a crazy first night!!! So much colour and craziness in the streets. A street carnival and processions like they still do in Europe (forget our Montreal street parades!). People in traditional costumes of all sorts with sequence, feathers, beads of all kinds and strands of golden decorations, dancing horses (no joke!- Brel was soooo impressed!), floats decorated with fresh flowers which were thrown among the crowd (Brel caught one!), big groups of INDIGENAS men all playing their ZAMPOÑAS (pan flutes) and all dressed in their traditional costume/uniform (which by the way they still wear everyday here)...

The perfect introduction to the mix of cultures that exist here. It is a blend of indigenas (Brel says they all look the same). The men all have a long pony tail or braid, white shirt, white pants, woven sandals and a poncho. They are beautiful I have to admit! And the women are absolutely gorgeous too with their long black hair, white embroidered blouses with coloured embroidered details on their poofy sleeves, strands of either coral colour or gold beads wrapped around their neck and both wrists and this wonderful pleated skirts that I have seen in all colours. They always carry something on their back, either a child or food.

And then there are the Mestizos and the Afro Ecuadorians (which were brought to Ecuador as slaves by the Spanish in colonial times). So you do see all shades of whites and browns here and during the fiesta they all mixed together, although each in their particular costumes and each dancing their own particular dances to their own music.

We watched the parade, tasted some of the food (tortillas= little balls of mashed potatoes stuffed with cheese and fried lightly + their own version of the skewer which of course included chunks of grilled banana- miam!). Tried every possible street that could bring us back to the hostal but it was impossible as the streets were completely blocked and so the fun lasted and lasted until Brel couldn't take it anymore and we found a crack in the mob...a way home.

Next morning. Saturday. Market day. I had heard and seen so many pictures of this thing but never imagined how big it could really be. Vendors of textiles, instruments, jewelery, art and clothing sprawled on every inch of street all over town. And the idea is to bargain because they never expect you to simply pay the first price they give. It is an art. And the prices are unbelievable and the quantities of things ....overload, overdose. Difficult not to buy anything, impossible to resist ... but no room in my huge backpack. Comment choisir et pour qui?

Then there's the food market where women sprawl out in front of their mountains of corn (each grain so big that it looks like teeths).

I have NEVER (not even in Mexico) seen corn with such huge grain! And entire pigs which they place cooked on their table top and serve you by digging inside with their bare hands....beans of all sizes and colours ...

And then, some of the oldest women I have ever seen...and sooo beautiful. Some look like those peeled apples you leave on your window sill to dry in the sun, the lines on their faces, their little hands, so strong... they tell of an entire lifetime of work. And they are so small and carry such loads ...never empty handed and often bare footed ...

Sunday, the move to our family, an organized homestay through our spanish school. I'll keep the introduction of the family for the next entry but I will just say that it's been a GREAT experience so far, all in spanish, home cooked meals and the opportunity to participate in the daily life of a real family here in Ecuador.

And I almost forgot ... the TOROS. Yes, the bulls in all shapes and sizes enclosed in a ring with lunatics trying to provoque them in all kinds of ways.

And then the most unbelievable thing I ever saw. They call it TORO GOAL and yes mesdames et messieurs, the idea is for each team to try to make the bull go in the other team's net, determined by empty boxes of beer. Totally crazy as each player tried anything to make the bull enter the net.

And then it got crazier and crazier as clowns got into the ring and pretended they were in Spain, waving red, fuschia, yellow cloth...

What people do for entertainment in these places is a little questionable, I say.

Monday the start of our intensive spanish class. 4 hours/day, for 5 days, each with our own teacher. Brel loves it! Mine is lots of grammar but very useful. Could be more dynamic and more fun but I am making great use of what I have learned so far and am perfecting the art of speaking spanish in the past tense. Nice to not have to stick to the present and future!

And if Brel's spanish class and schooling (because YES we are doing math + grammaire on the road) wasn't enough, he started CHARANGO classes today. We found a guy who owns an instrument store and he is also a musician. Brel asked him if he would teach him and so today he showed him where the notes are on the charango and the first movements. I picked him up an hour later and he had his first blister and hand pains, all with a nice smile. He's learning to play a typical piece from Otavalo. He's in heaven.

Bye for now ...