Orion's Belt

The longer you stare at the night sky the more stars are revealed. The patina of thinly spotted blackness dissolves and coloured spots of light twinkle into vision. The empty space between those spots is filled with a glowing cob-web of stellar illumination. Galaxies and constellations take shape

Under the stars, I think of our project in Ecuador. We had an idea that we would arrive in the country, proceed to work with Ainoa on our backs, helped by a small force of volunteers to finish the cob house and build a permaculture garden where we would grow most of our vegetables.

The longer we stay and work the more complexities and problems are revealed. The naïve vision dissolves and administrative realities make us spend time where we had not planned to spend it.

The water company's sense of humour.

Recently we lost water and spent a total of 14 days without drinkable water, and without any water at all for 12 of those days. I wish I could say this was a rare occurrence. The only thing to note this time was the extraordinary long duration of the stoppage.

Despite, although "in spite of" is more true to our feelings, all the misadventures and time wasted waiting in doctor's offices, lines at the utility company and Associasion Nacional de Transito, we have managed to complete more than nothing.

First, we have learned a lot. About ourselves, mostly. Call it knowledge, or wisdom -- the skein of accumulated experience that pulls judgement in one direction or another.

And then there's the house. It's not that we haven't worked on it, it's just that progress has been... well...

The first attempt at the house was rushed. We didn't level the site beforehand. The gravel trench was too shallow half around. We didn't tamp the bottom of the trench or the drainage gravel. The "rocks" we received for the stem-wall were actually aggregate full

Radiolarian is not rock.

of fossilised radiolarian, small mineral skeletons formed by oceanic protozoa eons ago, before the continental plates collided together and pushed up the Andean mountains; these "rocks" melted into a wet clay-like substance after the first big rain. We didn't use mortar between the rocks.

The second attempt, our current attempt, is much less rushed. We levelled the site roughly 2 meters around from the exterior of the walls. The gravel trench extends down a good 60cm under all parts of the exterior wall. We tamped the bottom of the trench and tamped again after each 15cm layer of drainage gravel. We built the stem wall with rocks we had ordered from a quarry. We are currently mortaring the rocks together to prevent the biting flies, cockroaches, mice, opossum and scorpions from sneaking in. The spiders we don't mind so much, especially since they tend to consume unwelcome insects. Even the brown-widows are guests on the outside-facing parts of the stem-wall.

Hello, Lycosidae friend.

Doing things properly takes a lot of time. The satisfaction of a job well-done comes at the price of an extended schedule and a lot of effort. We gladly pay this price, and then grimace as environmental variables double it.

Between the first and second attempts it rained and the radiolarian melted into the drainage gravel. We had to remove the radiolarian from the gravel trench, some of it with a 18-pound sledge-hammer, the wooden handle of which broke after three strikes and had to be replaced with a steel tube. The remaining gravel was covered with a layer of concrete-like organic matter that prevented drainage. We continued to have rain. The layer of radiolarian turned into a gooey glue which no amount of sifting would remove. So we shovelled the gravel out of the trench and spread it out on the ground to dry it in the sun and air. When it had dried we sifted it twice and carted it over to the new site by wheelbarrow.

Hard work.

We filled the gravel trench on the second site and tamped it. We began dry-stacking the rocks we had moved from large piles next to the first site. Some were so heavy we had to roll them the 15m into place. After dry-stacking, we began to mix cement and sand to make mortar. Mortar mixes require a good amount of water available, both for incorporation in the mix and for wetting and cleaning tools. Monthly water outages are common in the region, sometimes for up to five or six days per month. When we began to mix mortar we lost water on the third day, for four days. On the fifth day the water came back and we lost electricity in the afternoon. Of course, our mixer is electric. The next day electricity was restored. Two days later we lost water, for four days, and on the fifth day the water ran from the faucet dark grey, all day. So we came down to Quito for a week, from where I write now.

Mayoristery

The price of manual labor in Ecuador is $150 per week. The weekly food bill for us once stood at $80 for two adults and a toddler. I kept asking anyone who would listen how workers with large families accounted for this. When several EMAPA employees came to install the water meter on Pedregal I finally received an answer.

Ana Lucia took me along to the Mayorista the first week I was in Ibarra. We walked along amongst open rooms full of woven plastic sacs bulging with fruits and vegetables. Ana Lucia stopped now at the blood-red Tomates de Arbol, now at the tiny orange Naranjillas and now at the enormous light green Watermelons. At each stop she conducted business with a familiar humor and then asked me to show the vendor to which car to carry each 15 kilograms of fruit.

"Ana Lucia," I asked after the last watermelon had rocked the car and we glided through throngs of buyers, "Can anyone shop here?"

"Of course, why wouldn't they be able to?"

"It's a wholesale market and I don't know if it's permitted for people who don't own restaurants or––"

"Ah, no, only store owners are allowed to shop here."

"Food stores?"

"Hmm... Food stores, restaurants, anyone who needs a large quantity of fruits or vegetables."

"So I couldn't buy here?"

"No, I don't think so; No."

I looked out of the window and watched the exit barrier swing back in place. Just like that, the Mayorista was out of my mind.

Months later I stood next to a pickup, swatting at sand flies.

"It's the hour when they're most active," said one of the men with a yellow helmet and reflective vest.

"What? Oh, the flies, yes. You have to put on repellent in the afternoon." I was watching his compañero dig for the water main.

"Is the wall OK?" I gestured to the brick wall covered with patches of cement mortar.

"What happens is that if we put the meter in the wall we have to make a hole for it and the wall will fall over. But that doesn't matter, we'll put the meter on top and if you have more bricks you can build around it later."

"That's fine, I've got about 15 bricks more."

"You won't have a problem then, that's easily enough."

"I wasn't there when the technician came to verify the location of the main here, but I heard that he said a brick wall like this would be fine."

"No, you want something with a hole in the middle, so we can install the meter like that," and he pointed across the road at a small concrete-block wall with a water meter neatly cemented in the center.

"It doesn't matter though, we'll use cement to put the meter on top of the bricks and you can put the other bricks around it when you have time."

I nodded and watched the worker connect the main to half-inch plastic tubing.

"I have a question for all of you, something I haven't managed to figure out here in Ecuador. How is it that salaries for labourers are so low, but commodity and food prices so high?"

They all looked at me.

"Well, for example, what's the salary for a week of manual labor?"

"They don't charge by the week, usually you pay for a month at a time. But a week would be about $125."

"I paid $150 per week for three weeks, but I guess that's a little expensive?"

"$150... that could be the price."

"We pay about $80 a week for food at Gran-Aki. If you live with your parents and children, how do you cover the cost of living when most of your salary goes toward food? I don't understand this."

"You buy fruit and vegetables at the Mayorista."

"At the Mayorista... can you shop there if you're not a business?"

"Yes, anyone can shop there. What you buy at the supermarkets usually comes from there, and then the supermarket adds to the price for the store, the employees and taxes. The Mayorista is cheaper, and better quality."

"Cheaper? I don't know. We buy on Tuesdays at Gran-Aki and there's a 20% discount on produce."

"Look, how much is a lettuce there?"

"85 cents before discount, so––"

"25 cents at the Mayorista, and for better quality."

"And you're sure anyone can shop there?"

"Yes, it doesn't matter who the person is."

I was all questions and they were eager to educate me. A little too eager.

Today the water company had to send workers back to Pedregal to fix a leak between the main and the meter.

Last week we took our first shopping trip to the Mayorista. There's a section called the Minorista, where we buy most of our veggies but we also visit some of the larger wholesalers, buying mandarins and pineapples directly off of a truck. The Mayorista is the typical market experience: searching for the right quality of fruit, some haggling and finding our señora who this week threw in some extra veggies 'because it's you.'

Now, I feel horrible doing this because I know not all of you are happy with your available choices in local food, nor can all of you afford what you'd like in fruit. When we were living in Brussels most of the fruit we bought was from Morocco and my favourite, strawberries, were $5-6 for a small plastic box, so expensive for us that they were a twice-a-year treat.

... and yet I am compelled to continue, perhaps by the desire to document, perhaps by the desire to entice volunteers. Whatever be it, here is the total of our produce purchase from this Monday, at a price of $26.

Strawberries $1. Non-produce purchased at Gran-Aki.

Chota Calling - Volunteers

Chota Valley - Back view

Chota Valley - Putting in mosquito netting

Which brings me back to the house. Since our little trip to Lita, we’ve made good progress. The supplies we grossly overpaid for (we got a little too eager when talking to a greenhouse-installation contractor on the adjoining property) were delivered and we’ve been setting up the wooden frame for the mosquito net which will guard our rear veranda from the tiny biting flies so prevalent in Chota. We’re halfway finished with the new ceiling in Oscar’s room: three large wooden beams, the two on the side of the room attached to the wall with bolts and the middle beam placed through holes in the walls on either side; smaller wooden boards running between the beams in four places with three sheets of 122cmwide gypsum board (a.k.a. drywall) suspended on those boards. It’s a lot of work to get everything up where it needs to be and a pain because most of it is above shoulder level, but with half a day’s effort more the ceiling should be complete.

The water company finally came, a month after we had paid for service, to set up the water meter. They knocked a hole in the brick and cement pillar served formerly to hold up a gate and installed the meter there with cement. The pressure is a bit weak but we’re happy to have this essential utility installed at last!

Chota Valley - Side view

And so, we have Oscar’s ceiling to finish, the mosquito netting to put up, and a dry toilet to design and install and then we’ll be ready to move into this temporary house while we construct our cob house. “Fixing it up” has taken a month longer and about $500 more than we had originally planned for, but at least we’ll have a building to protect us from the bugs and the elements, and most importantly, somewhere we feel comfortable with Ainoa.

This update has been a long time coming, and yet I wanted to write so much more. Buying supplies, driving to-and-from the land in Chota, working on the house, helping cook dinner and taking care of Ainoa require almost all of my time and until recently I didn’t know how to fit updates into that schedule. Now I’ve made a habit of writing a little every day and even if the writing isn’t always good or the subject interesting, at least you should have some idea of what life for us is like here and how we are progressing in our project. Updates will be done in a more regular fashion in the future -- and with construction on our house starting soon and a room opening up when Oscar leaves in June, invitations to come and visit/volunteer with us!