View Cangahua from our door Hacienda Guachala   My dormant crevice

July 14, 2002 Chilling in Cangahua     Last night was the first night that inaugurated our project.  The participant in this program gathered at Jardin Del Sol hotel.  We went out to dinner and get acquainted.  Afterward, we returned to the hotel and had another get together, this time over drinks.  I made mojitos (Cuban cocktail) and served everyone.  I’ve been warned not to drink for the first few days there due to the attitude change.  But then who can postpone joy.  And true to the advice, I felt slow in the morning.       I went out for a last minute shopping spree before leaving for Cangahua this morning.  This little town at the foot of Volcano Cayambe was the site of our base camp.  There weren’t much amenities around there.  Cangahua was so small and reclusive, even some Ecuadorians didn’t know where it was.      The bus rolled off Quito around 11:00am and attacked the sierra then headed north toward the town Cayambe.  Cayambe was our window to the world.  It has a market, internet café and restaurant.  It even has a western style grocery store.  On the equator line, we turned south toward Cangahua.  The first stop was Hacienda Guachala.  The first-class passengers get to stay at the Hacienda.  This historical place was visited by dignitaries like  presidents of Ecuador and famous personality like Edward Whymper who was the first Westerner to climb the Cayambe.  According to an author, Guachala, the region, was concreted by Inca king Huyana Capac in 1500 as he ordered the fortresses to be built in the region of Pambamarca.      The bus, after dropping the first-class group off at the Hacienda, continued climbing the slope toward a barren land.  Adobe houses bloomed on the sides of the road.  Gardens of leaks and potatoes speckled throughout the land.   The bus finally rolled into a town center.  A plaza appeared in front of us.  In the middle, a group of local children surrendered a few gringos.   These missionaries passed out goodies in plastic bags and appeared to play "duck-duck-goose".  The evangelical people penetrated deep into Ecuador.  In Quito, I saw a group of gringos holding orphans kids in the park and cried while praying together.      While other people’s interest laid elsewhere, this area, believed by Dr. S. C., the project leader, as the site of heavy fighting during the Incas reign.  Dr. C interested in finding evidence of the Cayambis society- a warlike group of people that fought the Incas for 19 years.   Dr. C. discovered Cangahua couple years back when he came and met Don Carlito.  An elder and the representative mayor of the town, Don Carlito was all happy to meet a bonafide archeologist from the States.  Don Carlito claimed to be the purveyor of the Cayambis.  He wrote a book on the indigenous group but  remained unpublished.     Dr. C and Don Carlito went on a hike to the site.  It was so strenuous, he almost died after that day.  Don Carlito was a jolly guy. He came in on the first day to deliver a speech on his welcoming.  The Don maintained that this is their land and they are the straight descendants of the Cayambis.   No Inca had ever given them culture.  They had their own.  Our presence seemed to be an added incentive to his passion as he was willingly to provide all the moral, political and mental supports to the group.      From the bus stop, we trekked a short climb to the town’s community housing ran by the church under the command of El Padre.  El Padre (the father), not only a religious leader, he was the sheriff of Cangahua.  He demanded such respect from the local, a mere mentioned of his name would pop the peasants' ears.  Stepping through the low doorway, we entered a building made of stucco and wood.  The floor was of  green linoleum and the wall was painted in an off white color.     A flight of stair led us up to our dormitory on the second floor.  The stair whined with each creak crying a bit louder when we walked on it.  Flanking on both sides of the next hall were two rows of wooden beds.  These sunlight windows provided the morning sun, but they were also a nuisance.  The openings were covered with corrugated plastic roof,  therefore each night the cold air invited itself to our room  through the cracks.  And since the insulation system in this house hasn’t been conceptualized,  the vicious wind of Cangahua found our shivering feet as helpless victims.