Kichwen lurraldean / In Kichwas land

Categories Ecuador

“Pachamama mana
runacunapak.
Chinapish runanacuna
pachamamapak


“Lurra ez da gizakiarena,
gizakia da lurrarena”

“The earth does not belong to the mankind,
the mankind belongs to the earth”

Note: Every article is written in basque and english. Scroll down to read the english version.

EUSKERAZ ( 2016/10/03 – 2016/10/05 )

Ambatoko hiritik Chimborazoko sumendira joateko bada mendiko ibilbide polit bat, Via Flores. Ambatoko zurrunbiloa baretu bezain laster, erreka, ur-jauzi eta mendi garaiez jositako Kichwen lurraldean sartzen gera. Nekazariak dira gehienak eta seme-alabetako batzuk bide bazterrean dauden janari postuetan egiten dute lana.

Norma 16 urte inguruko neska gazte horietako bat da eta aste guztia goxoki postu inguruan pasatzen du, zein etorriko zen zai. Aldiz, bide bazter horietan ez da jende asko pasatzen, ni bezela galduta dabilen besteren bat agian. Eta eskola, noiz? Larunbat goizetan. Hemengo biztanleek gaztelera eta Kichwa hitz egiten dute, batzuk Kiwcha (Quechua) bakarrik. Normak ez du Kichwa hitz egiten eta gaztelera berriz, zailtasunekin. Tamalez heziketari ez zaio behar adina garrantzia ematen eta baserri-giroko gazteek dituzten ikasteko aukerak are txikiagoak dira. Pertsonaren sorlekutik, etorkizuna, ia aurreikusi daitekeen gertakari bat da. Paperean idatzirik ez dagoen destinoaren indarrak marraztutako etorkizuna da.

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Goraka jarraitzen det baina bide hau ez da sekula bukatzen. Nire hankek gelditzeko esaten didate baina Chimborazoko refugiora iristeko puxka on bat geratzen zait. Gainera etxalde bat pasatzen dudan bakoitzean zakurrak inguratzen zaizkit zaunkaka, binaka, hirunaka, bost ere inguratu zaizkit. Ohitzen nihoa eta beldur gutxiago ematen didate. Haiek uxatzeko bizikletako ur bidoia erabiltzen dut, bat edateko eta bestea zakurrei botatzeko. Nekeak glukosa pixkat hartzera behartzen nau eta horrekin beste pixkat aurreratzea lortzen det. Hala ere, nire muga topatu det eta denda montatzeko garaia dela erabakitzen det. Bertako indigenei beraien lurretan akanpatu dezakedan galdezka hasi naiz baina ezezkoak jasotzen ditut. Eskualdea ez da akanpatzeko egokiena ( “el páramo andino”) eta Kichwaz ematen dizkidaten erantzunak ez ditut ulertzen. Eta ulertu beharrik ere ez, ongietorria ez naizela jakiteko. Azkenean ozta-ozta gazteleraz amona batek esan dit ba lurra oso hezea dela eta inguruan ur asko dagoela akanpatzeko. Tira ba, aurrera segi beharko det. Halakon baten bukatuko da bide hau. Kilometro batzuk aurrera egin ta gero, urrunean Via Floresen amaiera ikusten det eta han bide nagusiarekin elkartzen den bidegurutzea.

Bai, hor furgoneta bat geratzea lortu det eta 20$-engatik Chimborazoko aterpetxera gerturatuko naute. Pott eginda nago eta egoeraz baliatzen dira, ilunabarra gerturatzen ari da, 4000 metrotan nago , paramo erdian, lainopean eta hotzez, ez daukat beste aukerarik. Ordu erdi beranduago Chimborazoko parke naturalera iritsi gera, eskerrak furgonetan sartu nuen bizikleta, oraindik puxkat eder bat geratzen zitzaidan eta. Hortxe ezagutzen det Angelos greziarra, lehen bizikleta bidaiaria.

ENGLISH ( 2016/10/03 – 2016/10/05 )

There is a hidden magic mountain trail to go from Ambato to Chimborazo whose name is “Via Flores”. As soon as the stressing noise of Ambato disappears, we enter the Kichwas land, full of mountains, rivers and waterfalls. Most of them are farmers and some of their children work in the Food&Drinks kiosks settled alongside the road.

Norma, in her 16, is one of those teenagers who spends the whole week in the sweet kiosk, waiting for any potential client.  However, there aren’t so many people on these roads, maybe some other lost guys like me. And what about school? On Saturday mornings.  Here the people speak spanish and kichwa and some, just Kichwa (Quechua). Norma does not speak Kichwa and she has some difficulties to speak spanish. Unfortunately, here, the education does not have enough importance and the educational opportunities offered to the rural young people is even smaller. Given someone’s birthplace, the future is almost a foreseeable fact. The future is drawn by the strength of the non-written destiny.

I continue riding up in this endless road while my legs are telling me to stop, but a huge stretch is left to reach the Chimborazo refuge. In addition, every time I pass by a house, a pack of hounds approaches me barking. But I start getting used to it and it scares me less than in the beginning. So as to shoo them away, I use the water can, one to drink and another one to frighten the dogs away. The tiredness makes me take a glucose portion and I am able to advance a bit more. Nevertheless, I meet my limits and I decide it´s time to mount the tent. I ask to the local indigenous if I could mount the tent on their lands without any success.  It seems the land is not suitable for camping but I do not understand the answers in Kichwa. There is no need to understand Kichwa to know that I am not welcome. At the end, a grandma who barely speaks some spanish tells me that the ground is too humid and is not suitable for camping as it is full of water. Ok, in this case, let´s go on, I hope this road will have an end at some point. Some kms later, I see the end of the road, just in the crossing with the main road.

Yes, better safe than sorry! I manage to stop a van to bring me to Chimborazo´s refuge for 20$. I am extremely exhausted and the guys of the van are taking advantage of the situation. Dusk will come soon, I am at 4000 meters high in the middle of the foggy and cold wasteland, I have no other choice. Half an hour later we arrive at the Chimborazo national park. Fortunately I took the right decision, there was still a long way left. And there, I know the greek Angelos, the first touring cyclist I meet in this trip.

 

 

 

 

Isaak Elduaien
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