Encounter with the Awa - part II

Rio Verde Community - Scenic view from village

The next village was only 5 minutes further along the dirt road, practically at its end. What a different village this one! The shoulder of the hill had been completely leveled here and five sturdy wooden buildings stood in a row on the side of a dirt playing field. At the far end of the field was a tiny playground with a swing-set. Beyond that was the schoolhouse. Pablo had taken us to this village, he said, to ask a favour of us. One of the young women here had wanted to continue her education after completing the village schooling. Her parents had separated when she was younger and neither of them would now sponsor her. The village head-person wouldn't sponsor her. Finally, her grandmother had stepped in to assist her.

Rio Verde Community - The Road Up

The young woman had gone to Quito to study at a beauty school and then returned to Ibarra after her graduation. Young adults who leave the village to study in big cities seldom return to the village, Pablo explained, but this young woman had wanted to come back. So now her grandmother had asked Pablo if he could put in a small beauty salon for her. Nothing overly complicated, "but most of the girls here reach a certain age and get pregnant and that's it for their education. I think if we build a little room for this young woman to give manicures in it will show the girls in the village that they can do something more, they can become professionals if they want to." "As long as I get a manicure I'll help," I joked. Pablo gave me a serious look. "No, Jamie, I don't think she's actually going to give many manicures, but if the people in the village want to, they can come see what it would be like, they can have some excitement, and they can fill their imaginations with different possibilities."

Rio Verde Community - New Construction

Before introducing us to the grandparents, Pablo led us around the premises, again with me acting as his surrogate photographer. The buildings here are all in much better condition and there are two new facilities, a row of immaculate toilet stalls and an assembly hall. I wondered who had built these facilities and why they weren't going to help with the beauty salon. A sneaking suspicion arose in me that Pablo had a way of testing potential volunteers by subjecting them to travails. I recalled his story about the 6-hour hike with the activists from Quito. While I was considering this, Pablo brought us into the school building, where class was just letting out. "Friends, I'm going to ask you to stay for just a moment. I have something I want to talk to you about." With this he called the students back into the classroom, where all thirty-or-so of them sat back down. "Here with me today is a friend of mine, Jamie," he pointed to me, "from the United States. He is an English teacher. I was wondering," he continued, "if you would like to learn English?

Silence. Some of the students stared blankly ahead. A few girls close to Pablo fidgeted excitedly. Pablo tried again. "This is an opportunity to learn English. Are any of you interested in seeing what Jamie's English classes are like?" Some nods this time. "Well, what do you say?" "I think we're interested," said a student who looked like class representative. More nods. Murmurs of agreement from around the room. "OK, in that case, Jamie," Pablo said from across the room, "can you tell them something about your courses?"

All thirty heads turned to look at me.

Rio Verde Community - First year school rooms

“I’ve taught English in Japan and Brussels,” I began. “I teach because I like to communicate. I teach because helping people learn to communicate in a new way brings me joy. My class will not be one where I stand in front of a board,” I walked over to the chalkboard and pantomimed picking up a piece of chalk and drawing, “explaining everything to you, while you sit and listen. No.” I began to walk around the class, walking up to students’ desks. “In my class you’ll do a lot of talking, you’ll make a lot of mistakes, and you’ll learn how to communicate in English.”

“Say something in English,” interrupted Pablo.

“In English? OK. I look forward to working together with you all in the next trimester, and I hope you enjoy learning English!”

Pablo stepped forward from his nook between two desks.

“Well, that was really difficult! Thank you, Jamie, and thank you for your time, friends. Enjoy your afternoon.”

We walked back across the playground and football field amidst the students, who were      looking at me with a mix of curiosity and excitement. At the building next to where we had parked an older woman was waiting for us. “This is Jamie, this is Oscar,” Pablo introduced us immediately. “And this is the woman I was telling you about. Her granddaughter is the hair dresser.” The woman stood next to her partner. Both looked to be in their late fifties. Their faces were handsomely refined by wear, and they held themselves with a dignity I hadn’t noticed in the other villagers. The man’s button-up shirt and belted trousers might have looked pretentious amongst the casual style of everyone else, had this outfit not seemed to fit him as casually as a second skin. The woman invited us up a steep set of stairs.

Rio Verde Community - First coat of paint in the salon

Their lodgings are a simple set of beds in a room of wooden boards. A construction style with no insulation, just cut and fitted boards, screws and nails. I was strongly reminded of the buildings I had seen in southeast Asia, in Laos and Myanmar. The grandparents had some ideas about how to arrange the room to turn it into a beauty salon: put in a few boards to make a new wall here, place a mirror there, cut a hole in the wall here and cover it with a loose metal mesh to make a window, add a few shelves there. After explaining this they deferred to Pablo, who deferred to me. I took measurements, discussed some ideas with Oscar, and assumed responsibility as the “head decorator” for this project. We’ll be travelling back soon to decorate.

We said goodbye to the grandparents and set out on the long, unpaved mountain road back to the highway. Before returning to Ibarra, however, we had one more stop to make. What had been the entire purpose of this journey, what we had almost completely forgotten about.