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Titikaka lakutik, Uyuniko gatzagara / From Lake Titicaca to Salar de Uyuni http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/titikaka-lakutik-uyuniko-gatzagara-lake-titicaca-salar-de-uyuni/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/titikaka-lakutik-uyuniko-gatzagara-lake-titicaca-salar-de-uyuni/#respond Fri, 27 Jan 2017 12:55:55 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1801 Bolivia - Titicaca - Salar de Uyuni ( 2016/12/06 – 2016/12/12 )

La entrada Titikaka lakutik, Uyuniko gatzagara / From Lake Titicaca to Salar de Uyuni aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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NOTE: EVERY ARTICLE IS WRITTEN IN BASQUE AND ENGLISH. SCROLL DOWN TO READ THE ENGLISH VERSION. 

SalarDeUyuni

EUSKERAZ ( 2016/12/06 – 2016/12/12 )

Bolivia, hego ameriketako populakuntza indigena handiena, nazio anitzen herrialdea eta batik bat, Guarani, Quechua eta Aimaren lurraldea da, Pachamama ( Ama lurra ) jainkosatzat dutelarik. Magikoa, erroak bizirik mantentzen dituen herria, Inken seme-alabak dira. Aldiz hego hemisferioko eskualderik behartsuena ere bada, koka hosto ekoizle nagusiena izateaz gain. Evok esaten omen duenez, boliviar bakoitzak urtean kilo ta erdi koka hosto behar ditu, altuerari aurre egin eta lanean aritzeko. La Paz-eko merkatu zentraletik gauero ateratzen diren koka hostoz beteriko trailer guzti horiek, herritarren kontsumorako izango ote dira? Auskalo …

Oraingo honetan egun gutxi batzuk besterik ez ditut pasako Bolivian. Duela bi urte motxila bizkarrean hartuta, basamortu, oihan eta meategiak zeharkatu genituen Ana eta Mikelekin batera. Bidai honetan, hegoalderago geratzen diren  Txile ta Argentinara gerturatuko naiz.

Titikaka lakutik, Copacabanara iritsi ta itsasontziz eguzkiaren irlaraino joan naiz (Isla del Sol). Eta irlara iritsi bezain laster, aspaldian entzuten ez nuen hizkuntza entzuten det, bi emakume euskeraz hitz egiten, a ze ilusioa! Baztango eta Lekeitioko bi andereño. Bolondres gisa Cochabanban lanean ari diren Iruñako beste bi neska ta extremadurako mendiko gida ta magoa den mutil bat ere ezagutzen ditut. Irlako iparraldetik itsas bazterrak bisitatzen ari garela, “aupa ta aio”-ka ari diren beste gazte batzuk gurutzatzen ditugu, Iruñakoak hauek ere. Eztakit ba Isla del Sol-en edo Beriainen gauden. Beste batean Machu Picchuk duen edertasunari buruz ari nintzen baina Isla del Sol ez da motz geratzen, turistikoa den arren, Boliviako txoko polittenetako bat dela ere esango nuke. Gainera irlako iparraldeak bere sena mantentzen du, bertako etxe eta arrantzeleen bizimoduarekin.

Copacabanatik, La Paz-era joan naiz. El Alto-tik behera, ta mendi magaletik gora, bailara zeharkatzen duen fabela erraldoi bat dirudi La Paz-ek. Lehorte arazo larriak ari dira sufritzen azken aldian, neri berriz El Alto-ra iritsi baino 20 km lehenago, izugarrizko kazkabarrak harrapatu nau  bidean eta kaleak 40 zm-tako erreketan bilakatu dira 20 minututan. Ezinezkoa izan zait bizikletarekin zeharkatzea. La Paceña-ko (bertako garagardoa) kamio baten gainean jarri eta garagardo botilla hutsez inguratua, bizikleta ta guzti gerturatu naute hirira. El Alto eta La Paz-en berriz argi ibili behar da, batez ere gringo itxura duen ni bezelako turista txuri batek. Hiriaren erdian, munduko kartzela ospetsu eta arriskutxuenetariko bat aurkitzen da, San Pedro.

San Pedro barnean polizia ere ez da sartzen, presoak dira kartzela kudeatzen dutenak. Alkaide rol-a 4 erahilketengatik kondena betetzen duen preso batek du eta bere laguntzaileak, “Los delegados”, ez dira askoz finagoak. Presoek lana egin behar dute metro karratu gutxi batzuk alokatu edota eguneroko jana ordaintzeko. Egunean otordu bakarra da dohakoa, gehiago jan nahi izan ezkero, irabazi egin behar da. Arotzak, sukaldariak, elektrizistak, kameluak, … San Pedro, hiri erdian dagoen beste hiri bat da, eta hemen gertatzen dena, hemen epaitzen da, ez dago legerik. Kartzelako dorreak hutsak daude, ez dago zaindaririk eta kanpokaldean soldata xixtrin bat duten 20 polizia besterik ez daude. Duela urte batzuk turistak sartzen uzten zituzten, aldiz lapurreta eta kokaina bidai berezi baten ondorioz, bisita hauek galarazita daude. Lonely Planet-ek oraindik ez du informazio hau eguneratu eta turista asko gerturatzen da kartzelako morboak eta bertan saltzen den azukre txuriak erakarrita.

Gutxiengoa bada ere, hiriak badu beste aurpegi bat eta kasu honetan neri hiriko leku ponpoxo batean egotea suertatu zait bi egunez, zaindua dagoen urbanizazio batean, alegia. Duela bi urte ezagutu nuen Ana-ren etxean. Bera erdi alemana, erdi boliviarra da eta beste hiru pertsonekin batera leku eder batean bizi da. Utzi didaten gelatik La Paz-eko hiriaren panoramika politta ikusten da.

Wayna Potosi mendia igotzeko planak bertan behera joan dira eguraldi txarraren ondorioz. Hirian euria goitik-behera eta mendian elurra mara-mara. Eguraldi hobean bila hegoalderuntz joango naiz, Uyuniko gatz basamortura. Uyuni-tik San Pedro de Atacamako trabesia famatua aukeratako bat da. Laguna Verde, Laguna Colorada, 5000 metrotara dauden Geyserrak, terma naturalak, Dali-ren basamortua ta azken sumendiak pasata, San Pedro de Atacamara. Basamortuak aldiz Chimborazoko gailurrak baino errespetu gehiago ematen dit. Gutxienez 15 litro ur eraman beharko nituzke eta basamortuko hondarretan bizikleta eskuz tiratzeak ez nau bereziki motibatzen, are gutxiago guzti hori bakarrik zeharkatzeak. Duela bi urte 4×4 batean hiru egunez egin nuen bide hau eta basamortuan, ezerezarean erdian eta elurpean, bizikletari tiraka zebiltzan txirrindulariak ikusita ta gero, horrelako erronkei aurre egiteko interesa erabat galdu nuen. Beraz Dakar-eko monumentura gerturatuko naiz bizikletaz, trabesia egun bateko etapan laburtuz. Eta hemendik, Argentinara, San Salvador de Jujuy-ra.

ENGLISH   ( 2016/12/06 – 2016/12/12 )

Bolivia, the biggest multiethnic indigenous country in South America, with more than 30 different languages, of which the most spoken ones are Guarani, Quechua and Aymara and whose main Goddess is Pachamama, the Mother Earth. Magic country who keep their roots alive, the daughters and sons of the Incas. Nevertheless it is also the poorest country in the American south hemisphere, apart from being the main coca leaf producer. Presumably, according to Evo, every Bolivian needs one and a half kilos of coca leaves per year to combat the altitude illness and to have enough energy for work. I wonder if the destination of those huge trucks full of coca leaves going around every night from the main market of La Paz are for own-consumption?

This time I will stay in Bolivia just for few days. Two years ago I came with Ana and Mikel as a backpacker and we crossed the desert, the jungle and the mines. In this trip, I will ride to the southern countries, Chile and Argentina.

From Lake Titicaca to Copacabana and by boat to Isle of the Sun ( Isla del Sol ). Surprise, as soon as I arrive at the isle, I listen two women speaking in Basque, amazing! Two teachers from Biscay and Navarre ( Regions of the Basque Country, Biscay whose capital city is Bilbao and Navarre,  Iruñea / Pamplona ). I also met two girls from Iruñea who are voluntarily working in a school of Cochabamba and a guy from Extremadura, Spain, who is a mountain guide and a magician. On the road to the north cliffs, we also meet more basque people. I am wondering if we are in Isla del Sol or in the Basque Country. Machu Picchu is a paradise but Isla del Sol is also another one. Incredible cliffs, mountains, fishermen villages, … I would say it is one of the highlights of Bolivia.

Riding from Copacabana to La Paz alongside Lake Titicaca I end up close to El Alto.  From El Alto, at hight of 4200 meters, downhill inside the valley and back again uphill to the mountains, La Paz looks like a giant shanty neighbourhood. La Paz and the nearby regions are suffering from a terrible drought, however, 20 kms before my arrival to El Alto, I come across with a strong hail which converts the streets in 40 cm high rivers. No way to cross them by bike, therefore I hitch-hike and a Paceña ( local beer) truck helps me crossing them. I and « Fahrrad », the bike, are surrounded by empty beer bottles. God dammit! At least they could have been some of them full! 😉 I end up in the depth of “El Alto”, which is not precisely the safest place in earth, specially for white crazy gringo touring cyclists like me. I must keep an eye opened. But it is a while since I am extremely relaxed in this trip and I do not pay that much attention to risks. In the middle of La Paz stays one of the most famous and dangerous prisons in the world, San Pedro.

Not even the police get into San Pedro. They are the prisoners who manage the penitentiary city. The role of warden is performed by a prisoner serving a sentence of four murders and his team, the delegates ( Los delegados), do not have a  better CV than him. Every prisoner has to work in order to rent a couple of square meters to live in and get some food. Only one meal per day is for free. If they want to eat more, they have to work as cooks, electricians, drug dealers, … San Pedro is a city inside another city, which has no written laws and what happens here, stays here. There is no one in the surveillance towers and outside the prison, there are only 20 powerless policemen with a ridiculous salary. Few years ago, tourists were allowed to get into the prison, but due to attacks and crazy drug trips, this visits are forbidden nowadays. The information given by Lonely Planet has not been updated and many tourists try to live this experience drawn by morbidness and willing to taste the so called white sugar, which apparently is much better than the one from the outside.

Although it is minor part of the city, there is also another side of the coin. And in this case, I will stay in the posh area. A privileged residential area, with nice views to the city and under surveillance by security guys. I will stay at Ana’s apartment, a girl a knew two years ago when I came as a backpacker. She is half german, half Bolivian and she shares the flat with other three people. From my room I can see nice views of La Paz, not bad at all.

The plans to climb up the Wayna Potosi went down due to the bad weather. It is pouring in the city and snowing at the top of the mountains. I will ride to the south looking for better weather, to Salar de Uyuni. One of the options is to cross the desert through “Laguna Verde”, “Laguna Colorada”, the geysers, the warm thermal springs and Dali’s desert until San Pedro de Atacama, Chile. Nevertheless, the desert instils me even more than the Chimborazo volcano. I would need at least 15 litres of water and carrying 50 kgs of my bike through the sand of the desert does not really motivate me. Furthermore, crossing it alone, requires a braveness which I don’t have. Two years ago I crossed the desert with a four wheel drive. Once there, I saw cyclists in the middle of nowhere, under the snow carrying their bikes in the sand with a tremendous effort. That discouraged me completely to dare with this kind of challenges. Riding from Uyuni village to the Salar and the Dakar monument will shorten the adventure in a one-day trip, which is perfect. Next stage will be San Salvador de Jujuy, Argentina.

La entrada Titikaka lakutik, Uyuniko gatzagara / From Lake Titicaca to Salar de Uyuni aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Andeetako altiplanoa / The high Andean plateau http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/andeetako-altiplanoa-andean-altiplano/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/andeetako-altiplanoa-andean-altiplano/#respond Mon, 09 Jan 2017 18:37:59 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1464 Cusco-tik, Titikaka lakura / From Cusco to Lake Titicaca
( 2016/11/30 – 2016/12/05 )

La entrada Andeetako altiplanoa / The high Andean plateau aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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NOTE: EVERY ARTICLE IS WRITTEN IN BASQUE AND ENGLISH. SCROLL DOWN TO READ THE ENGLISH VERSION. 

EUSKERAZ ( 2016 /11/30 – 2016/12/05 )

Eta bizikleta, non utzi nuen?

Denbora gehiago pasa dut bizikletarik gabe, bizikleta gainean baino. Baina tira, ez naiz denbora alperrik galtzen ibili. Inken sorlekuari gero arte bat esan eta bizikleta gainean jarrita, Titikaka laku aldera abiatu naiz.

Cuscoko erdigune historiko eta turistikotik atera eta benetako herri peruar batekin elkartzen naiz berriz ere. Ecuadorretik ikusten noan bezela, bukatu gabeko ladrilozko etxez josia dago Peru ere. Abandonatutako txakurrak gero eta gehiago ikusten dira eta hauek ere ez dituzte txirrindulariak maite, beraz, erne ibili behar naiz ur bidoia eskutan dudala, edozein momentutan zaunkaka datozkidan zakurrak uxatu ahal izateko. Kotxe eta eraikuntzen dendak berriz, argazki sexistaz beteak daude. Kotxeen lubrikante edota gurpilen iragarkiak, erdi biluzik dauden emakumeen argazkiek hornitzen dute.

Tamalez, emakumeen aurkako bortizkeria parez par ezagutu dut eta egoerari aurre egiteko dauden zailtasunak onartzea kostatzen zait. Fisikoki eta psikologikoki kolpatuak diren emakumeak, behin eta berriz beraien bikoteengana itzultzen dira eta legearen babesa sinbolikoa izatea ere ez da iristen. Ondorioz emakume asko erailtzen dituzte urtero.

« Esaterako, Machu Picchu-tik Cuscorako bidean gindoazela, bide bazterrean, amildegiaren ertzean, lurrean etzanda  zegoen emakume bat aurkitu genuen. Besoak eta belaunak odoletan zituen eta beldur krisi batean zegoen. Bere mutil lagunak mototik bultza eta lurrera bota zuen. Bideak 4 metroko zabalera zuen eta amildegiak ehundaka metroko altura. Segituan eraman genuen ospitalera eta polizia deitu genuen. Berak berriz, ez zuen salatu nahi izan. »

« Hurrengo egunean, Cuscoko plaza nagusian, Plaza de Armas-en, gizon bat bere eskuez emakume bat itto nahiean zebilen. Ohar bat egin genion eta erantzun txar baten ondoren, biek taxi batean alde egin zuten. »

Homosexualitatea berriz, aipatu ere ez det egingo, horrelako gauzak, gaixotasuna baino madarikazio bat dela uste bait dute askok. Zentzu honetan, normaltasuna, onarpena eta errespetu batetik argi-urteetara dagoen egoera jasanezina bizitzen da.

Cuscotik 80 km-tara dagoen herri txiki batean bukatu dut lehen etapa, Quiquijana. Ur beroa duen hostal bakar bat ere ez dago eta egia esan, ura duten hostal gutxi batzuk besterik ez daude. Hemen, kultura ministerioko bi langile ezagutzen ditut, Sharmely eta bere aita. Elizetan aurkitzen diren artelanen zaharberritze lanetan aritzen dira. Erlijio katolikoa eta Inken kulturari buruzko hamaika istorio kontatu dizkidate. Quechuek, lana bukatzean, artoz egindako Chicha bat hartzera joaten dira eta horra joan gera gu ere. Ostatu hauetan ez da gaztelerarik entzuten, denak quechuaz ari dira. Ez det tutik ulertzen baino gustora nago bertako giroa biziz eta aita-alabek kontatzen dizkidaten istorioak entzunez. Bizikletaz bidaiatuko ez banu, sekula ez nintzateke herrixka honetan geldituko. Hara hor bizikletaz bidaiatzearen xarma.

Sicuani, Pucara, Llave eta Puno izango dira hurrengo herriak. 3500 metrotik gora daude eta altura hauetan kirola egiteak neke handiagoa suposatzen du. Koka hosto gutxi batzuk pedalei indar gehiagorekin emateko bultzadatxo bat eskeiniko didate. Pucarako herri galduan, beste lau txirrindularirekin elkartu naiz. Bi frantses, kolonbiar bat eta zelanda berriko bat. Hau sorpresa politta, hurrengo egunak elkarrekin egingo ditugu. Zelanda berrikoak inglesa besterik ez daki, kolonbiarrak gaztelera eta frantsesak denetarik pixka bat. Denen artean hitz egin ahal izateko itzulpenekin gabiltza, erotzeko modukoa baino giro earra daukagu.

Orain arte ez bezela, txirrindulari gehiago ikusten dira Titikaka lakutik aurrera eta istorioak elkarbanatuz eta elkarri gomendioak emanez, bidaiaren fase berri baten hasiera irudikatzen da.

ENGLISH  ( 2016/11/30 – 2016/12/05 )

Oh, my god! Where did I leave my bike?

So far, I have spent more time without the bike, than riding with it. Who cares! I have not wasted my time in vain.  I say goodbye to Incas birthplace to ride towards Lake Titicaca.

As soon as I leave behind the historical and touristic centre of Cusco, I enter the real Peru. As well as in Ecuador, the city is full of half-finished brick houses. The number of abandoned dogs is even bigger; therefore, I must keep an eye opened and the water can ready to shoo them away in case they come barking towards me. Construction and car shops are full of sexist symbols. Car lubricant or tyre ads are made with semi-nude women photos.

Unfortunately, I have also witnessed episodes of domestic violence against women and I find difficult to accept the passivity with which the authorities and the society combat the situation. Physically and psychologically battered women come back once and again with their partners without reporting the violence to the police. In addition, the support of the law and the police does not even reach to be symbolic. In consequence, many women are murdered every year.

« On the road from Machu Picchu to Cusco , we came across with a woman lying on the edge of the cliff. Her boyfriend pushed her from the motorbike. The road was 4 meter wide and on the edge there was a hundreds meters high cliff. She was bleeding and with a panic attack. We helped her to hospital and we called the police to report the situation. Nevertheless, she did not want to report, she was terrified. »

« I also witnessed another case of domestic violence in the middle of  « Plaza de Armas », main square in Cusco. A man was strangling a woman with his own hands. As soon as we grab his attention, they both went away in a taxi. »   

Regarding homosexuality, I am not even going to mention it. More than an illness, it is considered a curse. In this sense, the situation is unbearable and it is light years far from being normal, accepted and respected.

Quiquijana is the small village I end in this bike stage, 80 km far from Cusco. There is not a single hostel with warm water and there are only some of them with just water. Here I get to know two workers from the culture ministry, Sharmely and his father. They are artists and they restore works of art of churches. We spend the noon talking about catholic religion and Inca’s culture. After working in the mountains, the Quechuas go to drink a “chicha”, a drink made of corn. So do we.  In this kind of bars, no-one speaks Spanish, but quechua. I do not understand a single word but I enjoy the atmosphere and of course, the stories of Sharmely and his father. If I had not travelled by bike, I would have never stopped in this village. Here you find the charm of travelling by bike.

Sicuani, Pucara, Llave and Puno are the next villages. They are over 3500 meters and doing sports at this altitude is more exhausting. Coca leaves will give me a push to pedal here with more energy. In the lost town of Pucara I meet four touring cyclists. Two French, a Colombian and a New Zealand. What a nice surprise, I will ride the following days with them. The New Zealand speaks only English and the Colombian only Spanish, so we must translate every conversation. Crazy but funny, the good vibe makes us more patient!

Unlike so far, alongside Lake Titicaca there are more and more touring cyclists. We share stories and recommendations among us and it looks the beginning of a new stage of the trip.

La entrada Andeetako altiplanoa / The high Andean plateau aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Bidaian ezagututako jendea / People met on the road http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/bidaian-ezagututako-jendea-people-met-on-the-road/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/bidaian-ezagututako-jendea-people-met-on-the-road/#respond Tue, 27 Dec 2016 13:42:49 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1352 Jendea / People

La entrada Bidaian ezagututako jendea / People met on the road aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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La entrada Bidaian ezagututako jendea / People met on the road aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Iparraldeko basamortutik, Inkaren sorlekura / From the north desert to Inka’s birthplace http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/iparraldeko-basamortutik-inken-sorlekura-from-the-north-desert-to-inkas-birthplace/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/iparraldeko-basamortutik-inken-sorlekura-from-the-north-desert-to-inkas-birthplace/#respond Sat, 24 Dec 2016 15:40:07 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1278 Iparraldeko basamortutik, Inkaren sorlekura / From the north desert to Inka’s birthplace
(2016/11/11 - 2016/11/31)

La entrada Iparraldeko basamortutik, Inkaren sorlekura / From the north desert to Inka’s birthplace aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Note: Every article is written in basque and english. Scroll down to read the english version. And if you find any mistake, feel free to correct it.

Euskeraz  (2016/11/11 – 2016/11/31)

Ecuadorri agur esateko ordua iritsi da, muga zeharkatu eta herrialde berri bat ezagutzera noa, Peru. Parez par ehundaka kilometroko basamortu isolatu batekin aurkitzen naiz, ezerezaren erdian, herrixka xixtrin bat ere ez dagoen paraje horietako batekin. Alde batetik bestera, haizeak bultzatutako lasto bolak besterik ikusten ez diren Western filmetako herri abandonatuetako irudia datorkit burura. Ikustekoak aurreikusiz eta azken egunetan igotako malda latzak kontutan hartuta, Peru-ko kostaldera autobusez joatea erabaki det, aspaldian ez baitut itsasoa ikusi eta nere hankei atseden bat emateko ordua ere iritsi baita.

Mancora izango da hurrengo geltokia. Itsasoa eta basamortuaren artean aurkitzen den oasis txiki bat. Arrantzaleak, surflariak eta turista motxileroen eskualdea. Herriari buelta bat eman ostean, itsas bazterrean dagoen Point izeneneko hostal batean geratu naiz. Palmerak, igerileku bat, garagardo frexkoak eta giro internazioala. Zergaitik ez, pare bat egun pasatzeko itxura ona hartzen diot leku honi. Merezitako deskantsu on bat hartzeko leku ezinhobea! Opor egun pare bat behar ditut nire bidaiatik. 😉

Lehenik bainu bat igerilekuan eta garagardo frexko bat, hau bai bizia. Edaria eskatzerakoan ohartzen naiz inork ez duela gaztelera hitz egiten. Hego ameriketan gaude, Perun, eta inglesez galdetu behar, hau da hau marka. Anglofono bolondresen komunitate batekin topo egin det. MTV-ko top ten abestiak entzuten dira bozgorailuetatik eta garagardo bat eskatzen den bakoitzean, txupito bat irabazteko aukera ematen duen jokutxo bat eskeintzen dute.  Hemen argentinar gazte batzuk ezagutzen ditut, Gabi, Mario, Pablo,… “Por la concha de la Lora”, a ze hiru egun, gela parean diskoteka daukat eta lo egitea galazita dago. Horretara moldatzeko indar txiki bat egin beharko da ba.

Lehen egunean, arrantzaleen portura joan naiz, barku bateko patroi baten bila. “Caza y pesca”-ko kazetari gixa aukeztu naiz, Peru-ko baxurako arrantzari buruz ikerketa bat egiten ari naizela esanez eta beraiekin itsasora eramango nauten galdetuz. Motibatua nago eta ia goizeko 3-etan beraiekin itsasoratu naiz, baina Point Hostaleko festa giroak eta argentinarrekin sortu den giro onak nere kazetari lanbideari 180º-ko bira eman diote, festa eta musikaz gozatzeko. Lekuan lekukoa, eta momentuan momentukoa.

Mancora eta bertako festak atzean utzita, bizitza sano eta haize frexko bila noa Huaraz-eko Cordillera Blanca-ra. Ehundaka kilometrotako basamortua zeharkatu behar denez eta ajea bidailagun gixa elkartu  zaidanez, autobusez jarraitzea erabakitzen det, zati bat gutxienez.

Huaraz, mendizaleen Disney mundua da. Kanioiak, mendi bertikalak, eskalatzeko eskolak, lakuak, gailur elurtuak … hemen egun batzuk pasako ditut, bizikleta Marielaren hostalean utzi eta mendi martxak eginez. Laguna Churup, Laguna 69, Santa Cruz-eko trabesia, … nahi den guztia egiteko aukera dago hemen. Euri sasoia da, baina lurra idorra dago, duela hilebete hasi behar zen euritan. Turistentzat ezinhobea, nekazarientzat berriz, egoera zaila.

Nere bizimodua oso ondo moldatu da Hego Ameriketako erritmora, baina asteak aurrera doaz eta 5 hilebete baino gutxiago ditut bidaiatzeko. Beraz, zer bisitatu nahi dudan aukeratzen hasteko garaia da. Hurrengo geltokia Cuzco izango da, Inken sorlekua. Hemen, Inken hondakinak bisitatu eta mendi pixkat egiten jarraituko det.

Eta bizikleta? Bizikletak ere bere atsedena behar du, utz dezagun hostalean arnas pixkat har dezan.

Bitartean, Machu Picchu, Pisac, Oyllaitaitanbo, el cerro de Colores eta nola ezpa, festa pixkat ere egingo degu ba. Mancoran ezagututako Mario eta Gabirekin bainago, Huaraz eta Cuzcon ere. Argentinar hauek, bizitza kolore baikor eta umorez margotzen duten bi arkitekto dira. Konexio politta lortu degu elkarren artean eta oso ondo pasatzen degu. Cuzcon beste bi txiletar ere ezagutu ditugu eta argentinarren eta txiletarren gaztelerarekin erotzen ari naiz. “Cachai, al toque y al tiro. Vamo de una, por la concha de la Lora”. Ea Googleko itzultzaileak zer dioen!

Machu Picchu, inongo zalantzarik gabe, bidaiaren momenturik gorenena izan da. Goizeko 3:30-tan jeiki gera, paradisu hau bisitatzen lehenak izateko. Goizeko 6-etan irekitzen dituzte ateak eta hortxe gaude zai. Machu Picchu inor gabe ikusteko aukera degu, ordu erdiz gutxienez. Izugarria, a ze zibilizazioa Inkena. Yosemiterekin batera, ezagutu dudan lekurik harrigarriena da. Gainera momentuaren berezitasuna ez du lekuak soilik egiten, pertsonek eta gure momentuko umoreak zerikusi handia dute. Egun honek ia 24 ordu iraun du guretzat eta anekdotaz betea izan da. Mancoran ezagututako beste bi pertsona gurutzatu ditugu, Cali, Estatu Batuetakoa, eta Uruguayko bikingoa. Mendi koloredunean (Cerro de Colores) bizikletaz bidaiatzen duten Kathie eta Chris inglesak ezagutu ditut. Guzti hauen energia ere apartekoa da. Horrelako jendea ezagutzeak, punttu berezi bat ematen dio bizitzari. Bejondaizuela!

ENGLISH (2016/11/11 – 2016/11/31)

It’s time to say goodbye to Ecuador in order to discover a new country, Peru. In front of me, I encounter an endless isolated desert, where there is no even a single tiny village, this is exactly the middle of nowhere. It reminds me those Western films where you see straw balls rolling from one side to another in an abandoned village. Foreseeing the situation and taking into account the steep slopes I climbed by bike the previous days, I decide to ride by bus to the Peruvian coast. It’s a long time since I haven’t seen the sea and my legs will appreciate a rest as well.

Mancora will be the next stop, a small oasis between the desert and the sea. It is the fishermen’, surfers’ and backpackers’ region. After riding around the village, I end up in a hostel called The Point, close to the seashore. Palms, a swimming pool, fresh beer and international environment. Why not, it looks the perfect place to spend a couple of days and take the rest I deserve. I need some holidays from my trip! 😉

First of all a jump into the pool and a fresh beer, that’s good life! As soon as I ask a beer in the bar I notice that no one speaks spanish. We are in South America, in Peru, and we have to ask in english, this is funny. I come across with an english speaking volunteering community. The speakers spread MTV top ten music and every time you ask for a beer, you can win a shot with a simple game. In this hostel I get to know some Argentinians, Gabi, Mario, Pablo,… “Por la concha de la Lora”, three amazing days full of party. In front of my dormitory was the disco and it was forbidden to sleep. Come on, let’s make a small effort in order to adapt to this hard lifestyle.

The first day in Mancora, I go to the harbour to look for a fishermen’s boat captain. I introduce myself as a “Hunt and fish” magazine journalist who is investigating about inshore fishing in Peru and I ask them if I can join them for fishing. I am motivated to go at 3 in the morning with them. However, The Point’s party atmosphere and the good connection with the argentinian guys makes me reconsider the situation. My journalist career turns back to be replaced for an international party. Adapting to the environment and going with the flow.

Leaving behind Mancora and the party, I ride towards “La cordillera blanca” in Huaraz looking for fresh air and healthier activities. In between, the desert is waiting for me and I am not motivated to cross it at all. Furthermore, I have a new fellow traveler, “the hangover”. There is no enough space for all of us in the bike, so I travel by bus, at least part of the route.

Huaraz is like Disney World for mountaineers. Cannyons, vertical walls, climbing schools, lakes and snowed summits… No kiding, I will spend some days here, hiking and enjoying this wonderful landscape. The bike will remain at Mariela’s hostel, taking a breathe, and in the mean time, I will be hiking alongside the Cordillera Blanca. Laguna Churup, Laguna 69, Santa Cruz trail,… there are every kind of hiking options here. In theory, we are in the rain season, but the ground is drier than ever. It should have started raining a month ago. For tourists is perfect. For farmers, it’s a disaster.

My lifestyle has perfectly adapted to the South American pace, however as weeks go by, I need to start planning a little bit, as my time schedule is less than 5 months and there are still several places I want to visit. Cusco will be the next stop, the birthplace of the Inkas. Here, I will visit Inka ruins and I will continue hiking a bit more.

And what about the bike? The bike also needs some rest, therefore, let’s leave it in peace in the hostel.

Meanwhile, Machu Picchu, Pisac, Oyllaitantambo and the Rainbow mountain are waiting for more adventures, as well as some more party in Cusco. Since Huaraz, I am again with Gabi and Mario, the two argentinian guys I knew in Mancora. These argentinian architects give a colorful, positive and funny touch to every situation. We have a good connection and we enjoy every split second. We also have known two chilean girls and I am getting crazy with the spanish they speak in each country. “Cachai, al toque y al tiro. Vamo de una, por la concha de la Lora”. Let’s see what Google translator thinks about these sentences!

Machu Picchu, without a single doubt is the highlight of the trip. We wake up at 3:30 in order to be the first visiting this paradise. Machu Picchu opens at 6 a.m. and we are waiting at the entrance. We have the chance to visit Machu Picchu without the massive presence of the tourists, at least for half an hour. The Inkas civilization and the ruins are amazing. Together with Yosemite, it is the most impresive place I have ever been. But the place itself is not the only ingredient that makes the moment magic. The people we share the moment with, make it even more special. This day has last almost 24 hours for us and it is full of anecdotes. We meet people we knew in Mancora, Cali from the USA, the Uruguayan viking and two english touring cyclists in the Rainbow mountain, Chris and Katie. The positive energy of all these people is incredible. Knowing people like them colors life with a magic touch. Cheers for you!

La entrada Iparraldeko basamortutik, Inkaren sorlekura / From the north desert to Inka’s birthplace aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Oihaneko herrixkak bizikletaz / Riding alongside the jungle villages http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/oihaneko-herrixkak-bizikletaz-riding-alongside-the-jungle-villages/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/oihaneko-herrixkak-bizikletaz-riding-alongside-the-jungle-villages/#respond Wed, 30 Nov 2016 01:51:10 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1175 Bizitzeko beste modu batzuk ezagutzen / Knowing other ways of living
( 2016/10/28 - 2016/11/09 )

La entrada Oihaneko herrixkak bizikletaz / Riding alongside the jungle villages aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Note: Every article is written in basque and english. Scroll down to read the english version. And if you find any mistake, feel free to correct it.

EUSKERAZ

( 2016/10/28 – 2016/11/09 )

Oihan sakoneko bizimodua pixka bat ezagutu det eta zer pentsa ugari ekarri dit. Natura, momentua bizitzea eta gauzarik sinpleenekin jendea zein zoriontsu bizi den sekula baino argiago ikusi det.

Baños-era itzuli naiz bizikletaren bila, bideari berriz ere ekiteko. Lehenik oihaneko herrixkak zeharkatuko ditut, Puyo, Macas, Laberintos del Chiguaza eta Mendez. Handik, Andeetako mendilerrora igoko naiz berriro, Cuenca, Loja, Vilcabamba eta azkenik, Ecuadorri agur esateko, Macará.

Bidean ezagutzen ari naizen jendeari aipamenik egin gabe ezin dut aurrera egin. Azken finean, bidai honen helburua ez bait da kirol erronka bat gainditzea, kultura, gizartea eta bizitzeko beste modu batzuk ezagutzea baizik. Hego ameriketako errealitate ezberdinek nere burua sakonago ezagutzeko aukera eta denbora eskeintzen didate, bizitzaren gertakariak beste ikuspuntu batzutatik aztertzen lagunduz, eta guztia erlatibizatuz. Otowo, Freddy, Hector, Taremo, Romulo Galarza, Thierry, Diego, Jorge Juan, Angelos, Eddy Jose, Nemonte, Miñemo, malabarista txiletarrak, Cuencako hostal klandestino bateko musikari eta malabaristak, La Paz-eko herrixkan bizi den Carlos etabar luze bat.

Guztiek badute magia berezi bat, guztiek badegu magia berezi bat, begiratzeko eta entzuteko bidea aurkitzen badegu, gauza izugarriak aurkitzen ditugu pertsona bakoitzean. Kasualitatez edo erakarpenez, baino gurutzatzen ditudan pertsona gehienek baikortasuna eta bizi-poza barreiatzen dute eta ilusioz dutena elkarbanatzen bizi dira. Horrelako bidaiek, gure mozorroak eta itsurakeriak alde batera utzi eta inongo beldurrik gabe nor garen azaltzeko aukera ezinhobea eskeintzen digu. Historia, kultura eta bizitzari buruzko elkarrizketa sakon eta interesgarriak izan ditut guzti hauekin. Beste batzuekin elkarrizketak ez dira horren sakonak izan, baino beraien ahots eta begiradek isladatzen zuten zintzotasunak ta goxotasunak, momentua berezia bilakatzen zuen.

Baina ez ditzagun begiak itxi edota beste norabaitera bideratu, guztia ez da horren politta eta epikoa. Zentzu askotan, duela 70 urteko Europa da hego ameriketa. Kultura maila oso behartsua da, alkohola gizartearen txoko guztietan sartua dago, emakumea ez da inondik inora errespetatzen ezta baloratzen ere, erlijio ezberdinek jendea lokartu eta itsutzen dute, narkotrafikoak zer nahi egiten du, kafe on bat lortzea baino errexagoa kokaina lortzea eta klase sozialen arteko desberdintasunak izugarriak dira.

Hala eta guztiz ere, egoera zailenek, pertsonen alderik onena ere ateratzen du. Iragarki batean zioten bezela: “Mundua erotua dago baina gizakia izugarria da”.

Momentuko berriak: 

Azaroaren 10-etik Perun nago. Oraintxe Cuzcon eta gaur, Azaroak 30, bizikleta hartuta Puno aldera joango  naiz. Orain arte Mancora (festa), Huaraz ( mendia) eta Cuzcon (kultura, festa eta mendi ugari) izan naiz.

ENGLISH

2016/10/28 – 2016/11/09

After knowing a bit the life in the jungle, I need some time to process all those amazing thoughts. Now I learnt better than ever how living the present, the nature and the simplest things can make people happy.

Go back to Baños to take my bike back and go on with the trip. First I will ride through the villages alongside the jungle, Puyo, Macas, Laberintos de Chiguaza and Mendez. From there, I will go up to the Andean highlands, Cuenca, Loja, Vilcabamba and at last, Macará, there I will say goodbye to Ecuador.

Hold on! I cannot go further without talking about the people I met in this trip. In the end, the goal of this trip is not overcoming a sporting challenge, but discovering the culture, the society and specially other ways of living. The diverse realities of South America are offering me the chance and time to know myself better, helping to analyze life experiences from another point of view and showing me that everything is relative. Otowo, Freddy, Hector, Taremo, Romulo Galarza, Thierry, Diego, Jorgen Juan, Angelos, Eddy Jose, Nemonte, Miñemo, the Chilean jugglers, the musicians and jugglers from the clandestine hostel of Cuenca, Carlos from the little village of La Paz and many others.

They all have a special magic inside them, we all have. If  we find the proper way to look and listen, we can discover incredible things from each of us. I don’t know if it is just by chance or by magnetism, but the people I am meeting in this trip radiate joy for living and positive feelings. They share the moment with excitement. This kind of trips let us the opportunity to take our masks out, leave aside hypocrisy, showing our real “me” without being afraid of anything. We shared so many interesting and deep stories about life, history and culture with these people, that makes me feel full of happiness. With some others, maybe the topics were not that deep, but even though, their gentleness and love, made the moment special.

But don’t get me wrong! Let us not be naïve and delude ourselves, not everything is that wonderful and epic. In many aspects, South America is like Europe 70 years ago. The education level is very poor, there are incredibly serious alcohol problems, women are not valued and respected at all, different religions anaesthetise and blind the most vulnerable ones, drug traffickers  do whatever, it’s easier to buy cocaine than a good coffee and the differences among social classes are enormous.

Nevertheless, the most difficult situations, can get the best of the human beings. As an advertisement used to say: “The world is crazy but the human being is extraordinary”

Current location and next step: 

Since November 10th I am in Peru. Right now in Cuzco and I will ride today, Nov 30th, towards Puno. So far I have been in Mancora ( party), Huaraz (hiking) and Cusco ( culture, party and hiking).

La entrada Oihaneko herrixkak bizikletaz / Riding alongside the jungle villages aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Amazoniako oihanean / In the Amazon Jungle http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/amazonan-waoraniekin-in-the-amazonas-with-the-waoranis/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/amazonan-waoraniekin-in-the-amazonas-with-the-waoranis/#respond Tue, 01 Nov 2016 12:35:53 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1080 Waoraniekin Amazonian / In the Amazon Jungle with the Waoranies
( 2016/10/10 - 2016/10/27 )

La entrada Amazoniako oihanean / In the Amazon Jungle aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Note: Every article is written in basque and english. Scroll down to read the english version. And if you find any mistake, feel free to correct it.

Euskeraz

Bigal erreka inguruko erreserba biologikoa

( 2016/10/10 – 2016/10/14 )

http://bigalriverbiologicalreserve.org/en/

Quitotik sumendien ibilbidea zeharkatu eta Chimborazoko mendi garaiak pasa ondoren, oihaneko bizimodua ezagutu nahi det. Ecuador bezelako herrialde txiki batek duen biodibertsitate magikoak, kilometro gutxitan mota guztietako orografia ezberdinak ezagutzeko aukera eskeintzen du eta horrelako paradisoak ez dira nonnahi aurkitzen.

Chimborazotik Riobambara jeitsi eta egun bateko atsedenaldia hartu ondoren, Orellana eskualdean dagoen erreserba biologiko batean bolondres gisa proiektu batean parte hartzeko aukera suertatu zait. Thierry Garcia, jatorri euskalduneko frantses batekik jarri naiz harremanetan eta bizikleta Riobamban utzita, Quitora joan naiz, handik berarekin Loreto inguruko oihana ezagutzeko. 4×4 batean Loretora joan, harrizko pista bat zeharkatu eta ordubete beranduago Patriciorekin elkartu gera. Patricio 20 urteko gazte bat da eta eskola utzita bere gurasoen etxaldean egiten du lana. Ikasteko irrikitan dago baina inguruak ez dio laguntzen bere heziketa akademikoan aurrera egiten.

Erreserba naturalean, lanera dihoazten bolondresentzako banbuzko etxola bat eraikitzera goaz. Lanerako beharrezko tresnak bi behorren gainean jarri eta ordu bete luzez oihanean zehar ibili gera erreserbara iritsi arte. Han Patricio, bere anaia eta Thierryrekin, laurok lanean jardun gera 5 egunez etxola eraikitzen.

Inguruko baserritarrak, beraien lurrak hedatzeko helburuarekin, oihanean gero eta gehiago sartzen ari dira eta horrek bere harriskua du, eremu horietan, oihaneko erregea bizi bait da, jaguarra. Bere eskualdean animaliak sartu ezkero, hauek bere presa bilakatzen dira eta horrelaxe gertatzen ari da. Jaguarraren ohiko menura zaldiak, behiak eta txerriak gehitu dira. Honek izugarrizko iraultza piztu du baserritarren artean eta hildako animalien barnean pozoia jartzen hasi dira jaguarra hiltzeko asmoz. Orellanako gobernua ere gerturatu da arazoari irtebide egoki bat emateko. Jaguarrak hil edo beste norabaitera mugitzeko planak jarri dituzte mahai gainean. Jaguarrak ehizatuko dituen norbaiten bila ere ba omen dabiltza. Naturaren babesa eta bertako ekonomiaren arteko oreka aurkitzea ez da errexa, baino horrelako erreserba biologikoak eta Thierry bezelako jendeak naturaren babesa eta kontzientziazioa dute helburu nagusia. Besteak beste espezie ezberdinen monitorizazioa eginez eta deforestazioa ekiditeko kanpainak antolatuz.

 

Shiripunon Waoraniekin

2016/10/20 – 2016/10/27

Erreserba biologikoko esperientzia izugarri izan den arren, oihaneko bizia eta batez ere bertako komunitate indigenak ezagutu nahi ditut, baina ez nolanahiko komunitateak. Ez dut turistentzat antolatzen dituzten antzerkiak ikusi nahi, lumaz eta margoz mozorrotuak dantzan aritzen diren indigenak. Oihaneko benetako bizimodua ezagutu nahi dut. Batekin eta besteakin hitz egin ondoren, oihan sakoneko gida batekin harremanetan jarri nahiz aste betez Waorani komunitate batekin bizitzeko plana eginez.

Baños-etik Cocara autobus bat hartu, Cocan janaria, 240 litroko gasolina kupela erosi eta furgoneta batean, bi ordutara dagoen “Zona Intangible”-ra gerturatu naiz. Han Shiripuno erreka bazterreko zubi batean Otoworekin elkartu naiz. Otowo, Waorani bat da eta Shiripuno erreka jarraituz, zubitik kanoaz 10 bat ordutara bizi da. Errekak ur gutxi du eta bidaia normalean baino luzeagoa egiten da, gainera, Otoworen kanoako motorra gauean zehar matxuratu da eta arraunei eraginez, errekan behera, berriz ere bere etxera bueltatu behar izan du beste motor baten bila. Gau guztia, errekan gora eta behera ibili da bere familiarekin, euritan eta janik gabe. Hemen hasten da abentura, beraiek waoraniz hitz egiten dute eta Otoworen gaztelera, pelikuletako indioen tankerakoa da. Ondo hasi gera, ikeragarri gustatzen zait!

Hasiera batean bere aitaren komunitatera joateko asmoa genuen, baina erreka oso baxu dago eta “Tagaeri”-en (kontaktatu gabeak) eskualdea zeharkatu behar degu hara joateko. Horrek harrisku latza suposatzen du, beraiekin topatu ezkero, atsalde onak eman aurretik bostpasei lantza botatzen bait dituzte ongi etorria emateko. Harriskuak ekiditeko, gertuago geratzen den bere osabaren etxera joan gera. Moo (waoraniz) hostoz egindako etxolan sartu bezain laster, hortxe aurkitu det lehen sorpresa. Bere osabak ile luzea, begi bakarra eta belarriak zulatuak  ditu, ia biluzik ibiltzen da eta gazteleraz hitz bakar bat ere ez du egiten.

Familian giro goxoa dute, dena elkarbanatu eta su-inguruan berriketan orduak pasatzen dituzte. Ni ikus-entzule moduan nago, elkarrizketa guztiak waoraniz bait dira eta hiruzpalau hitz besterik ez bait dakizkit. Etorri berria den gringoari buruz hizketan ari dira, ez dut esaten dutena ulertzen, baina begiradak nahikoak dira hitz egiten ari direna sumatzeko. Arraro xamar sentitzen naizen arren, lehen eguna da, beste bost egun ditut aurretik.

Hurrengo goizean, 5:30-ak aldera jeiki , yuka, patakoiak eta arraultzeak gosaldu eta Otowo, Taremo eta hiruok ehizera joan gera. Bi lantza eta matxetea hartuta, kanoaz ordu betera dagoen puntu batera iritsi eta oihanean sartu gera. Ibiltzen hasi bezain laster, Otowo lurreko aztarnak begiratzen hasi da. Jaguarrak, tapirrak, basurdeak eta mota guztietako aztarnak topatzen ditu. Zuhaitzetan tximuak, tukanak, hartz perezosoak eta mota guztietako hegaztiak ikusi ditugu. Horrelako batean, bidexkatik sei bat metrora lur harrotu berria ikusten da.

“Armadillo, que hay un armadillo” Oihukatzen du Otowok. Bost urte pasa dira berak armadillo bat azkenik jan zuenetik eta hamar azkena ehizatu zuenetik. Oso kontentu dago, bere begiradan ageri da poza. Korrika gerturatu eta lur harrotuko zuloa handitzen hasi da. Matxetea hartuta, eskuekin, makilekin izugarrizko sasoiakin segituan handitu du zuloa eta armadilloa lurrazpian nola urrutzen den entzuten degu. Goraxeago beste zulo bat egiten hasi da, tunel horretan armadilloa harrapatu ahal izan dezagun.  Bera alde batetik eta Taremo eta ni bestetik. Izerditan blai gaude, azkar ibili behar gera gehiegi urrundu ez dadin. Horrelako batean, armadilloaren buztana ikusten degu. Nik badet eskalatzeko kordino bat nerekin eta korapilo bat eginez, buztanetik eusten degu armadilloa.  Armadilloak indar handiz erresistentzia egiten du baina Otowok lantza hartuta bere sabela zeharkatzen du. Tira bira batean, azkenik bere hanka eutsi eta estabilizatzea lortu degu. Armadilloak ez du eskapatzeko aukerarik. Ehizatzen dudan lehen aldia da.

Armadilloa lurpetik atera eta zuhaitz batean zintzilik utzita, ehizatzen jarraitu degu. 10 minutu ere ez dira pasa eta sekulako basurde usaia eta soinua entzuten degu. Basurde mota ezberdinak daude, batzuk bakarrik ibiltzen dira, beste batzuk bostnaka eta beste batzuk, 80 eta 300-eko taldeetan. Horrelako talde bat aurkitu degu. Ni aho zabalik nago, bapatean nere inguruan korrika 50 basurde inguru ikusten bait ditut. Ez dut berehala erreakzionatzen, baina horrelako batean eskutan dudan lantza nere indar guztiekin paretik pasatzen ari ziren basurdeengana bota dut. Baino huts egin dut, nere punteria eta ehizeko trebetasuna ez dira eta txapela kentzeko modukoak. Berriz ere lantzaren bila joaterako, basurdeak desagertu dira. Nere inguruan horrenbeste basurde izateak bazuen ordea bere azalpena. Taremo eta Otowo, kanpoko perimetrotik, basurdeak nereganatzen ari ziren, nik ehizatu ahal izan nezan. Armadilloa hartu eta etxera itzultzean, goizean zehar izandako abenturei buruz hizketan hasi dira. Denak neri begira daude parrezka, ez bait naiz basurdea ehizatzeko gai izan. Pentsatuko zuten ba, gringo kalekume honek ez du basurde bakar bat ehizatu.

Hurrengo egunak, pirañak eta  katu-arraiak arrantzatzen aritu gera. Dortoka arraultzak biltzen ditugu erreka bazterrean, amu bezela erabiltzeko. Gawa, Otoworen osabaren etxea atzean utzita, errekan behera jarraitu degu, gauak egurrez egindako kanpamenduetan pasaz.

Oihanean bizi diren Waoraniak ez dira ofizialki existitzen. Ez dute pasaporterik ezta osasun txartelik. Oihanetik bizi dira eta behar duten guztia oihanak ematen die. Egon daitekeen bulegorik handienean egiten dute lana. Zuhaitz, animali eta errekaz osatutako lantokia dute eta pozik bizi dira horrela. Aldiz, beraiek ere badituzte beraien beldur eta mehatxuak. Alde batetik petroleo enpresa handiak daude oihanean eta bestetik Tagaeriak, hauek ez dute kontaktatuak izan nahi eta beraiengana gerturatzen den edonorri, lepoa moztu edota lantzez erasotzen dituzte.

Otsailean, bere anaia emaztearekin etxerako bidean zihoala, erreka zuhaitz batek blokeatzen zuen eta kanoa lotu, motozerra hartu eta zuhaitz enborra moztu beharrean aurkitu zen aurrera jarraitu ahal izateko. Juxtu Tagaerien lurraldean zeuden. Motozerraren soinuarekin, ez zen inguruan gertatzen ari zenaz ohartzen. Momentu batean, zerbait bitxia sumatu zuen eta burua kanoaruntz itzultzean, bere emaztearen gorputza odoletan bi lantzez trabeskatuta aurkitu zuen. Miñemo, bere emaztea oraindik bizirik zegoela, senarrari alde egiteko eskatu zion eta hasiera batean alde egiten saiatu zen arren, ezin izan zuen emaztea horrela utzi eta korrika kanoaruntz gerturatzen ari zela, zazpi lantza bildu zituen. Miñemok bizirik jarraitzen zuen Tagaeriak beregana gerturatu zirenean. Ordurako senarra hila zegoen eta Tagaeriek Miñemo bizirik uztea erabaki zuten. Ez dakite ziur Miñemo nola iritsi zen Gawaren komunitatera, zortzi orduz errekan gora egin bait zuen odola isurtzen ari zitzaion bitartean. Berak kontatzen zuenez, Tagaeriek lagundu omen zuten bertara. Miñemo Shiripunoko zubira kanoaz gerturatu eta helikopteroz Quitora eraman zuten. Etzaiazue galdetu nola, baina Miñemo bizirik atera zen. Waoranien gorputza eta metabolismoa izugarri sendoak dira.

Sei egunez istorio honen xehetasunak jakin gabe,  Otowo eta Miñemorekin egon nintzen. Miñemok ez zuen hitz erdi bat egiten nerekin eta nik ez nuen nere lekua argi ikusten. Sabelean izugarrizko zauri arrastoa ikusi nion eta momentu horretan, arraroa iruditzen zitzaidan arren, zesarea bat zela pentsatu nuen.

Oihanak, errekak, zuhaitzak eta beraiek ere, beren biziarekin aurrera jarraitzen dute, elkartasunez, familia babestuz eta beraien komunitatea sustengatuz. Behar dutena baino besterik ez dute hartzen oihanetik eta irrifar handi batekin, umiltasunez eta zintzoki, momentua bizitzen dute, zein egun edo ordu den jakin gabe.

English

Bigal river biological reserve

( 2016/10/10 – 2016/10/14 )

http://bigalriverbiologicalreserve.org/en/

After crossing the volcanoes avenue and the Chimborazo´s high altitudes, I am looking forward to knowing the jungle´s lifestyle. The magical biodiversity of a small country like Ecuador, offers the opportunity to know every kind of orography and a paradise like this cannot be found anywhere.

I descend to Riobamba from Chimborazo´s refuge in order to have a rest, right after that, a new volunteering project opportunity come across into my way so I go to Orellana, to the Bigal River Biological Reserve. Leaving parked my bike in Riobamba I take a bus to Quito to meet Thierry Garcia, the coordinator of the reserve. He comes from France and he also has Basque origin. From Quito we travel with his 4×4 to Loreto, enter the jungle crossing a stone track and an hour later we meet Patricio. He is waiting for us with the mules. Patricio is a 20 years old guy who lives in the jungle with his parents and his brother. He had to leave aside his education in order to work in his parents little farm. He is looking forward to learning new things but his environment does not encourage him to go on in this path.

Our goal is to build a bamboo house for volunteers who come to work to the reserve. We load up all the needed tools and provisions on top of the mules and we walk about a long hour into the jungle until we reach the reserve. There, Patricio, his brother, Thierry and me have been working for 5 days building the handmade bamboo house.

In the nearby, the farmers, with the objective of expanding their lands, they are bursting into the jungle and of course, every action has a consequence. The king of the jungle, the jaguar, lives there. If anyone invades its territory, it becomes in its prey. And so it is happening. Horses, cows, pigs and other domestic animals start being part of the jaguar’s menu. This has provoked a huge revolution among the farmers and they try to kill the jaguar putting poison in the carcasses. The situation has become so serious that the Orellana’s government is taking matters into their own hands in order to find the best solution to the problem. Either they kill them, or they move them into another area of the jungle. Apparently they have already started searching for someone to hunt the jaguars.

It is not that easy to find a balance between the preservation of the nature and the local development. That’s the reason why a biological reserve such as the Bigal River and people like Thierry, are working very hard to preserve the nature and  raise awareness about the environment. Among other projects, they monitor species and organise campaigns to avoid the deforestation.

In the Shiripuno river with the Waoranies

( 2016/10/20 – 2016/10/27 )

Although the experience in the biological reserve has been awesome, I still want to know the real life in the jungle and specially the indigenous communities, but not any kind of communities. I do not want to be part of a fake theatre organised for tourists, making the indigenous up with feathers, paintings and folkloric dances. I want to know the real life in the jungle. After investigating and talking to many people, I got a contact of a real Waorani who lives in the jungle and can guide me through it, offering the chance to live with his family for a week.

I travel from Baños to Coca by bus, buy provisions, food, water and a 240 liters barrel of gas for the canoe and travel by van for two hours up to the forbidden area, the area of the non-contacted Tagaeri indigenous. Here, in the last part of the road, we bump into the Shiripuno river and there is a bridge where I know Otowo. He is a Waorani who lives 10 hours far from the bridge by canoe. The river water level is really low and the trip takes much longer than usual. In addition to the water level, in the way, Otowo’s canoe’s engine got damaged during the night and he had to go back rowing to his home for another engine. He and his family have been sailing the whole day and night alongside the river under the rain without even eating. All of them speak in Waorani and Otowo’s Spanish level is similar to the Indians from the Western films. The beginning looks like exciting, I really like it.

At the beginning we had the intention to go to Otowo’s father’s community. For that we would need to pass by Tagaeri’s land ( non-contacted indigenous) but the river level is too low, which slows down the canoe’s pace and it is recommended to pass this point as fast as possible. This means that the risk is too high. If the Tagaeris meet someone, instead of greeting with a warm hug, either they throw you several spears, or they cut your throat. Therefore, in order to avoid these kind of unnecessary risks, we go to his uncle’s community, which is closer and we don’t have to cross the Tagaery’s territory.

As soon as we enter the “Moo” leaf hut, I face up to my first impressions. Gawa, the uncle, has long hair, a single eye, big holes in his earlobes, he is almost naked and he doesn’t know a single word in Spanish.

Among the family members they have a strong bond, they share what they have and they spend the hours talking around the fire. They are talking in waorani and I only know a few words, so I am just an observer. Even if I don’t understand a single word, the cross of looks and the body language are more than enough to understand that they are talking about the newcomer gringo. At the beginning I feel a bit weird, but it is just the first day, there are another 5 days left.

Next morning, we get up around 5:30, we have breakfast with “yuka”, “patacones” and eggs and Otowo, Taremo and the three of us go hunting. Taking two spears and the machete, we sail an hour in the canoe down the river until we walk in the jungle. As soon as we start walking, Otowo starts analysing the footprints. He finds every king of footprints, such as jaguars, tapirs or wild boars. On the trees, we observe monkeys, toucans, sloths and all type of birds. Suddenly, some meters beyond the main trail, we find freshly removed soil.

“Armadillo, there is an armadillo!” Says Otowo loudly and totally excited. It is more than 5 years since he last ate an armadillo and more than 10 since he last hunted one. He is delighted, his gaze reflects his happiness. He runs towards the removed soil and starts digging into it, enlarging the hole in order to catch the armadillo. He digs with his hands, with the machete and with some sticks. At the same time, Taremo and I start digging a bit further in order to corner the armadillo. We have to dig really quickly because the armadillo is trying to escape and it is very strenuous, in the jungle is hot and humid and we are sweating hard.

After a while, we see the armadillo’s tail, I take a short climbing rope from my rucksack and we tie its tail. The armadillo is resisting strongly and Otowo throws a spear to its stomach. We keep on digging and we achieve tying his leg. There is no way back. This is my first hunting experience.

After taking the armadillo out from the hole, we hang it in a branch and we continue hunting. It has not even been ten minutes when we smell and listen wild boars. There are different breeds of wild boars. Some of them are solitaries, some others go in groups of five and some others in groups of 80 or even 300. The ones we come across are from the biggest group. From one second to another, I am surrounded by 50 wild boars. I’m shocked and it takes a few seconds for me to react. I wake up and I throw the  spear with all my might. But I fail. My aim and hunting experience are ridiculous. I run to catch the spear in order to throw again, but the wild boars are much faster than me and they disappear in the depth of the jungle. However, there was a logical explanation for the amount of wild boars that I was surrounded of. Taremo and Otowo were running in the outside perimeter of the group so as to direct the wild boars towards me. The hunting day is off, we take the armadillo and we go back to the hut. As soon as we arrive they start telling the morning adventure to the rest of the family and they start laughing while they look at me. I guess they are thinking that this gringo city guy is not even able to hunt a single wild boar among such a huge group.

We spend the rest of the days fishing piranhas and catfishes. From the river bank, we take turtle eggs to use them as bait because it helps a lot to attract fishes. Leaving behind Gawa’s hut, we continue sailing down in the river sleeping in the river bank in self-made wood camps.

The Waorani indigenous of the jungle do not exist officially. Neither have they a passport, nor health insurance. They live in the jungle and the jungle provides them all they need. They work in the biggest office ever. Their working environment is surrounded by trees, wild animals and rivers and they live really happy like this. In the contrary, they also have threatens and fears. On the one hand, the big oil companies are invading the jungle and, on the other hand, the Tagaeris. These ones do not want to be contacted by our civilization and anyone who approaches them, must face up to the most violent consequences. The Tagaeris cut the intruders throat, or they throw several spears to them.

In February, Otowo’s brother was sailing back home with his wife when they came across a big tree blocking the pass in the river. He parked the canoe in the bank of the river and he started cutting the trunk with a chainsaw to continue down in the river. They were exactly in the Tagaery territory. With the scrappy sound of the chainsaw he did not pay enough attention and he did not realize what was going on. He felt something weird and when he turned back towards the canoe,  he met his wife’s body pierced with two spears. While the wife was still alive, she asked her husband to run away immediately and safe his life. He started running away for some meters, but he made his mind up and went  back very quickly to his wife. He could not abandon her in that situation. Before he reached the canoe, seven spears pierced his body.

Miñemo, the wife, was still alive when the Tagaerys approached her, unfortunately the husband was already dead. The Tagaerys decided to leave Miñemo alive. Seriously wounded and bleeding hardly, she sailed around 8 hours until Gawa’s community. Still nobody knows how Miñemo could sail so long in that status. According to her, the Tagaerys helped her in the canoe almost to Gawa’s hut, but she was shocked and raving and her memories were too hazy. The family took her very fast to Shiripunos bridge in order to bring her to the closest hospital with an helicopter. Don’t ask me how, but Miñemo survived! Waorany’s body and metabolism is incredibly hard.

During six days, I was with Otowo and Miñemo without knowing that she was the victim of this horrible attack. It was not easy for me to talk to Miñemo, she is quite shy and I could not get closer to her. She had a huge scar in her belly and in that moment, even if it looked a bit weird, I thought it was a Caesarean section.

The jungle, the rivers, the trees and even the Waoranys, go on with their lives. With solidarity, protecting their families and supporting their community. They only take what they need from the jungle and with a big smile, humbly and nobly, they live the current moment, without having a single clue of the day or the current time.

Wáponi Otowo (thanks) for letting me enter your community and for sharing with me a completely different lifestyle and life philosophy. By far, sociologically, this has been the highlight experience I have ever lived.

La entrada Amazoniako oihanean / In the Amazon Jungle aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Chimborazora igotzen / Climbing up to Chimborazo ( 6268 m ) http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/chimborazora-igotzen-climbing-up-to-chimborazo/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/chimborazora-igotzen-climbing-up-to-chimborazo/#respond Tue, 18 Oct 2016 13:52:53 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=1063 Chimborazo (6268 m)
( 2016/10/06 – 2016/10/08 )

La entrada Chimborazora igotzen / Climbing up to Chimborazo ( 6268 m ) aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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

EUSKERAZ ( 2016/10/06 – 2016/10/08 )

Chimborazoko refugioa 4850 metrotan aurkitzen da. Mont-Blanc-eko gailurra bezain altu. Hemen mendiak eta alturak norbera bere lekuan jartzen du. Burukominak, arnasa hartzeko zailtasunak eta gaitz guztiak etor daitezke batera. Ecuadorreko kostatik datorren jendeak oso gaizki pasatzen du, bapatean, 0 metrotatik ia 5000 metrotara igotzen baitira. Jendea goitik botaka eta ondoezakin ikustea ohikoa izaten da. Koka tea hartu, arnasa kontrolatu eta lasai egoteko momentua izaten da.

Hemen egonda, Chimborazoko gailurrera igotzen saiatuko naiz, 6300 metrotara dagoen sumendira. Sekula ez naiz honelako alturetan ibili eta nik ere sentitzen det oxigeno falta. Burukominak eta arnasa hartzeko zailtasunak ere iritisi zaizkit baina jasangarria da. Gailurrera igotzeko aklimatazio pixka bat behar da eta altura horretan bizpairu egun egotea gomendatzen dute. 5300 metrotara gidarik gabe igotzeko aukera dago, hortik aurrera ezinbestekoa da gida batekin igotzea eta gauez igo behar da, eguzki izpiak ateratzean, elurra urtzen hasten da eta elur-jauzi arriskua handia bait dago. Angelosekin 5300 metro arteko mendi ibilaldiak egiten aritu gara, gorputza ohitzen joateko. Ondo ikusten gera, bai fisikoki baita alturan aldetik ere, baina errespetu handia diogu mendiari. Azken astean izan diren mendizaleen artean bizpairuk bakarrik lortu bait dute gailurra egitea.

Iritsi da eguna, atsaldeko 5-etan afaldu eta ohera. Gaueko 10-etan jeiki, koka te bat hartu, zereal gutxi batzuk jan, mendiko ekipo guztia jantzi, frontala piztu eta hortxe abiatu gara Fabian eta biok. Bera da nere mendiko gida. Poliki-poliki abiatu gera eta 30 metrotara gelditu beharra izan det. Sekulako beroa det horrenbeste kapa gainean izanda eta arnasa hartu ezinik nabil. Kendu beharrekoak kendu eta aurrera, poliki-poliki. Bigarren aterpetxera iritsi gera eta mendizale alemaniar talde batekin egin degu topo, 12 eta 4 gida dira. Oso poliki goaz, arnasa kontrolatuz eta gau izartsua begiratuz. Lehen alemanak atzean geratzen hasten dira eta oraindik ez ditugu kranpoiak jarri. Segi ba goruntz, 5300 metrotara iritsi gera. Aldiz, oraingo honetan bezperan baino neke handiagoa sentitzen det, gaua izango ote da erruduna edota lo falta.

Kranpoiak eta pioleta ateratzeko garaia da. Nere birikak altura sentitzen hasten dira, baina aurrean dugun elurrezko paretak adrenalina igo dit eta motibatua nago. Fabian eta biok soka batez lotuak gaude, berak irekitzen du bidea. Alemanak berriz hirunakako kordadetan doaz. Lehen taldeak pasatzen hasi gera, baino denak oso poliki goaz. 5500 metro eta eskalatzeko pasadizo bat gainditu behar degu. 1000 metrotan izango bagina ez luke inongo arazorik izango pasadizo honek, hemen ordea, bi edo hiru aldiz indar gehiago behar detela sentitzen det. Goruntz goaz eta parean dudan mendizale alemanaren hankek lehen koordinazio falta erakusten dute. Honek gosaltzeko pattarra hartu ez badu, arazo bat dauka! Aldiz, ni ere ez nago  indar betean, goizeko 3 t’erdiak dira eta nere pausoa asko moteldu da. Fabiani galdera magikoa pausatu diot: “¿Falta mucho para la cumbre?” Eta haren erantzunak lurjota utzi nau. “Muchíiiiisimo, a este ritmo unas 5 horas, estamos a 5600 m”. Orduntxe argi ikusi det ez dudala gailurrik egingo. Gero eta okerrago sentitzen hasten naiz eta Fabiani bere gomendioa galdetzen diot. Berak beste 100 metro gehiago igotzeko gai ikusten nau baina nik jeitsiera det buruan eta pareko alemanaren hankak bilintxi-balantxan ikusten ditut. Fabianek aurreko gidari alemanaren egoeraren berri ematen dio, aldiz aurrera egitea erabakitzen dute.

Nik berriz, nere mugak ezagututa behera egitea erabakitzen det, jeitsiera zaila eta arriskutsua izaten da eta indarrak gorde behar ditut. Nere hankak ondo daude baina gorputza orokorrean ez. Lehena naiz atzera egiten baina erabaki egokia hartu dudalakoan nago.  Goruntz eskalatzea jeistea baina errexagoa da eta kontu handia behar da. Orain ni naiz kordadako lehena, erortzen banaiz Fabianek eutsiko bait nau. Jeitsieran, lehenago pasa ditugun mendizaleak gurutzatzen ditugu. Hauek oraindik polikiago eta sufrimendu itxurakin, baina goruntz jarraitzen dute. Ni gero eta okerrago sentitzen naiz eta 30 metroro geratu eta esertzeko beharra daukat. Birikak dira arazoa, ezin arnasik hartu! “Fabian, esto es normal?” “Puede que tengas un edema pulmonar, aunque no lo creo porque no estas tosiendo.” “La chuta, la concha su madre y la maraca culea”, hoixe besteik ez zitzaiten falta. Arnasa sakon hartu, altxa eta segi beheruntz. Hankak deskordinatzen hasten dira, botagurea sentitzen det, tripa nahastua daukat eta sekulako mozkorra harrapatu izan banu bezela sentitzen naiz. Krampoiak kendu eta teorian errexagoa izan behar zuena, zailagoa bilakatu da. Elurra hasten du eta lainotua dago. Nola egongo ote dira beste mendizaleak? Giden irrati bidezko elkarrizketak ulertzeko zailtasunak ditut baina askok atzera egin dutela ohartzen naiz. Beraien argiek bidea margotzen duten mendian behera.

Bigarren aterpetxera iritsi gera, bai, bazan garaia. 900 metro besterik ez dira geratzen ohean etzateko. 5050 metrotan gaude, 200 metro jeitsi ta lixto. Sekula ez zait kilometro bat horren luzea egin. 20 metroro eseri, arnasa kontrolatu eta segi.

Azkenean iritsi gera beheko aterpetxera, eskerrak garaiz atzera egin deten. Mendiaren indarra eta naturaren aurrean zein txikiak geran!

13 mendizaletik, 4-k egin dute gailurra. Aupa zuek!
Ez dut gailurrik egin eta jeistean gaizki pasa dudan arren, esperientzia izugarria izan da. Mendiak, gorputzak eta buruak egiten dituen jokoak ezagutu ditut, sekula ikusi dudan zeru izartsu polittena ikusi det eta zalantzik gabe, neronen burua pixkat gehiago ezagutu det.

Yupaychani  Fabian! (Eskerrik asko)

ENGLISH ( 2016/10/06 – 2016/10/08 )

The Chimborazo refuge rises 4850 meters above sea level, as high as the Mont Blanc summit. At this altitude, the presence of the mountain instils us.  All illnesses can come together: headache, breathing difficulties, stomach-ache … Ecuadorians coming from the coast tend to have a bad time at the beginning as they suddenly go up from zero to almost 5000 meters high. It’s quite common to see people throwing up and with general discomfort. In this cases, it´s time to take a Coca tea, breathe deeply and have a rest.

Once here, I will try to climb the Chimborazo’s summit, the volcano which rises up to 6300 meters high. The highest mountain in the world from the centre of the earth and therefore, the closest point from the sun. I have never been in this altitude and I can also feel the lack of oxygen. I have also had headaches and breathing difficulties, but they are bearable. In order to climb the summit is important to acclimatise properly and it is recommended to stay at this altitude at least a couple of days. It is possible to climb up to 5300 meters without a certified mountain guide, but from that point on, it is compulsory by law to hire one.  So as to avoid avalanches the ascent starts around 10 p.m. and it is highly recommendable to reach the summit before 8 a.m. At this time the sun is shining and the snow starts melting, increasing the avalanche risk.

Angelos and I have been training in the nearby hills reaching 5300 meters and for the time being everything goes smoothly. We feel good, both physically and regarding the altitude, but we fully look up to the mountain. Among the climbers who tried to climb the summit in the last week, just a few of them reached the summit.

The day finally arrived, now it’s my turn. At 5 p.m. we have dinner and we go to bed. We get up at 10 p.m, drink a coca tea, eat a bunch of cereals, put on all the mountain equipment, switch on the torch and here we go, Fabian and me. He is my mountain guide. We start really slowly, step by step until 30 meters later I need to stop. The amount of layers on my body is suffocating and I cannot breathe. I take off the excess clothes and we keep on going, really slowly. We reach the second refuge and we meet a group of 12 german alpinists and their 4 guides. We all continue climbing up slowly, controlling the breath and observing the starry sky. Quite soon the first german alpinists fall behind and we have not put the crampons yet. Let’s go on, until we reach 5300 meters. Despite, at this altitude I feel much tired than yesterday, it might be the night or the lack of sleep. Either way, it’s time to put on the crampons and to take the ice axe. My lungs start feeling the altitude but the vertical snow wall opposite to us increases the adrenaline and it motivates me.

Fabian and me are tied by a rope and he is the one who opens the trail. The germans though, are in a three-member roped teams. In spite of our slow pace, we start passing the first groups. At 5500 meters we face up to a delicate passage we need to climb. At 1000 meters it would be like a walk in the park, here however, I have the impression that we need twice or three times more strength. We keep on going when the legs of the german alpinist ahead of me, start showing signs of incoordination.

Unless he has drunk some spirits for breakfast, he has a problem!

It’s 3:30 a.m. and I am not precisely full of energy, my pace slowed down considerably. I ask Fabian the million-dollar question: “Is the summit very far?” And his answer defeats me. “Extremely far, at this pace around 5 hours, we are at 5600 meters”. At that right moment I understand I will not reach the summit. Despite Fabian encourages me to go on 100 meters higher, I feel worse and the swinging legs of the german alpinist make me reconsider the situation, I need to save energy for the downhill. Regardless Fabian’s advice to the other group about the physical situation of the german alpinist, they decide to continue.

On the contrary, having met my limits, I decide to stop and start the descent, which is often more difficult and risky, therefore, I will need to be concentrated and energetic, as much as I can. My legs are fine but my body and my head do not react properly. I am the first giving up the ascent but with the impress of having taken the proper decision. Now I am the first of the roped team, in case I fall down, Fabian will hold me.

Climbing down the slope we cross the other alpinists we passed before. Slowly and with a suffering face, they continue climbing up alongside the ridge. My situation gets worse and I need to stop every 30 meters. The problem comes from my lungs, I can’t breathe properly!

“Fabian, is this normal?”, and he answers: “You might have a pulmonary oedema, although I don’t think as you don’t cough”. And I think: “La chuta, la concha su madre y la maraca culea ( every kind of South American swear words, basically, Holly shit), I hope this is not happening”. Let’s keep calm, breathe deeply and continue going down. My legs do not coordinate as they should, I have nausea, stomach-ache and I feel as if I were completely drunk.

Time to take off the crampons. What it should be easier, becomes more complex. It starts snowing and is very foggy. I hope the other alpinists are ok. The guides are talking to each other via walkies. Even though I can’t barely understand the conversation, I notice that many of them relinquish going to the summit. Their torches trace the downhill lights trail.

Yes, it was high time to reach the second refuge, we are at 5050 m. Less than 1 km is left to lie on the bed. Nevertheless, I have never experienced such a long kilometre, this is endless, every 20 meters I need to stop in order to recover my breathe. In the end, we arrive our refuge, I am glad for having stopped the ascent in time, the descent was worse than I could have imagined.

How tiny we are in comparison with the power of the mountain and the nature!

From 13 climbers, 4 reached the summit. Congratulations!

I have not reached the summit and the downhill was a bit of a nightmare, but the experience was worthwhile, it was amazing! I have known  the most beautiful starry night, the power of the mountain and the weakness of the body and the mind, and of course, I have known myself a bit more.

Yupaychani Fabian ( Thank you very much)

 

La entrada Chimborazora igotzen / Climbing up to Chimborazo ( 6268 m ) aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Kichwen lurraldean / In Kichwas land http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/pachamama_mana/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/pachamama_mana/#respond Sun, 16 Oct 2016 18:53:40 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=967 Inken aztarnak bizirik dirau / Inkas footprint keeps alive
2016/10/03 - 2016/10/05

La entrada Kichwen lurraldean / In Kichwas land aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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“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.

img_20161003_130205_hdr

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.

 

 

 

 

La entrada Kichwen lurraldean / In Kichwas land aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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Sumendien ibilbidea / The volcanoes avenue http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/sumendien-ibilbidea-the-volcanoes-avenue/ http://yukaninnovate.com/fr/sumendien-ibilbidea-the-volcanoes-avenue/#comments Sun, 09 Oct 2016 02:09:29 +0000 http://yukaninnovate.com/?p=927 Pasochoa baserri ingurutik hasi eta / Starting from the Pasochoa farmhouse
( 2016/09/29 - 2016/10/03 )

La entrada Sumendien ibilbidea / The volcanoes avenue aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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

EUSKERAZ ( 2016/09/30 )

Pasochoako baserrian

Baino Jorge Juan ez nuen kasualitate hutsetik topatu, Diegok jarri gintuen harremanetan. Bere baserrira joateko bide bazter batean itxoiten ninduen bere Land Rover txurian. Hemen bidea guztiz aldatzen zen, harri kozkorrez betetako mendiko bideak ziren eta inguruko baserrietako zakurrak zaunkaka bortizki ateratzen ziren bidera, kozka egiteko mehatsua eginez. Uff, horrek urduri jartzen nau, zakur hostiya hauek! Ez det ulertzen zergaitik baserritarrek ez dituzten arriskutsuak diren zakur hauek beraien barrutietan gordetzen.

Baserrira iritsi bezain laster nere pisukideak ezagutu nituen. Txekor tamainuko bi txakur! Bi Dogo Aleman beltz, baina hauek gozo gozoak ziren, mimoso hutsak. Jorge eta bere emaztearekin, Margaritarekin, bazkaldu nuen. Margaritak baserriko admnistrazioa eramateaz gain, amagina da, erditze naturalak egiten dituzten klinika batean egiten du lana. Kontatzen zidanez, musika, masajeak eta dantzaren bidez, erditzeak sortzen duen mina baretzea da helburua, erditzea naturalagoa eta momentu berezi bilakatuz.

Bazkalostean, luze aritu ginen berriketan. Jorgek, Andeak, oihaneko indigenak eta Ecuadorreko politikari buruz hitz egiten zidan. Nik berriz  Euskal Herriko eta Europako berriei buruz. Baserria liburuz eta argazkiz betea zegoen. Kultura, jakin-mina eta naturarekiko pasioa sentitzen zen baserri horretan. Esan bezela, Jorge, argazkilaria ere bada, baina ez nolanahikoa, “ultraligero” delako hegazki txiki bat du eta airetik ateratzen ditu argazkiak besteak beste. Behi belaze artean dauka bere aerodromo partikularra eta Quito eta inguruko beste piloto batzuekin elkarbanatzen du mendiko aerodromo hau.

Eta nola ezpa, berarekin hegan egitera gonbidatu ninduen. Nik ezin nuen sinistu! Bizitzak eta kasualitateek ekar ditzaketen sorpresak. harrigarriak izan daitezke. Quitotik Murphy lagunarekin atera nintzen eta hurrengo egunean inguruko sumendien gainetik hegan nenbilen “ultraligero” horietako batean. Horrelako serendipiak ikeragarri gustatzen zaizkit.

Ikusitakoak ikusita, hemendik aurrera eta orain arte bezela, nere plana, planik ez izatea da!

ENGLISH ( 2016/09/30 )

The farmhouse of Pasochoa

It was not a coincidence to come across with Jorge Juan, though. It was Diego who put us in contact. Jorge was waiting for me in the corner of a country road in order to go to his farmhouse. Here, the road was completely different, a mountain trail full of big stones and the dogs from the nearby farmhouses came out threatening with their barks as if they would bite. Dammit! That gets me very nervous. I can’t understand why the farmers do not keep these dangerous dogs within their property.

As soon as we arrived at the farmhouse I got to know my flatmates. Two dogs as big as a calf! Two black great Danes, although these ones were very nobles and loving. I had lunch with Jorge and Margarita, his wife. Margarita, apart from taking care of the farmhouses administration, she is a midwife and she works in a hospital where they practice natural births. According to her, the goal is to calm down the pain of giving birth by means of music, massages and dances, making the birth more natural and special.

After lunch we had been chatting for a long time. Jorge talked me about life in the Andean mountains, about jungle natives and politics in Ecuador. On the other hand, I shared stories about the Basque Country and Europe. The farmhouse was full of books and pictures. It radiated love for culture, desire to know and passion for the nature. As already mentioned, Jorge is also a photographer, but not any kind of photographer, he has an “ultralight” airplane and among others, he takes photos from the air. His aerodrome is in the middle of a cow meadow and he shares it with other pilots coming from Quito or close villages.

And as could not be otherwise, he invited me to fly with him. I couldn’t believe it! Life and random coincidences can bring astonishing events. I started the trip with the “friend” Murphy and the following morning I was flying over the volcanoes in an ultralight airplane. I really like these kind of serendipities!

And given all that has happened, from now on and as usual, my plan is, not to have a plan.

Euskeraz

Sumendien ibilbidea (Pasochoa, Cotopaxi, Tungurahua, Chimborazo, …) . Pasochoako baserria atzean utzita hortxe abiatu nintzen Cotopaxi sumendiaren parke naturalera. Eguraldia aldiz ez zegoen nere alde, euria goitik behera ari zuen eta Cotopaxi sumendiaren aztarnarik ez zen ikusten, laino arten gordea zegoen. Parke naturalean sartzeko harrizko 9 km-tako malda bat igo behar nuen eta bizikleta eta alforjen artean ia 50 kg ditudanez, furgoneta batean gerturatzea gomendatu zidaten. Eguraldiak iritziz aldatuarazi ninduen eta zuzenean Latacungara joan nintzen, han Warmshowers-eko Javier-ek bere etxean geratzeko gonbidatu ninduen eta deskantsua gustora hartu nuen. Bidean igo behar izan nituen maldak eta alturak, faktura pasa zidaten eta nahiko nekatua nengoen. Bigarren etapa zen eta hankak ez zeuden ohituak.

Latacungatik, Ambatora abiatu nintzen, Via Flores-eko bidetik, Chimborazo sumendiruntz (6310 m). Lurreko erdigunetik neurtuta, munduko mendirik garaiena da eta beraz eguzkitik gertuen dagoen puntua. Zalantzarik gabe hau izan zen etaparik gogorrena. 2500 metrotatik, 4800 m-tara, 50 km baino gehiago aldapa gora.

English

The avenue of the volcanoes ( Pasochoa, Cotopaxi, Tungurahua, Chimborazo, …)

Leaving behind the farmhouse of Pasochoa, I went towards the Cotopaxi natural park. Unfortunately, the weather was not helping, it was pouring and there was no trace of Cotopaxi volcano, it was hidden behind the clouds. In order to enter the natural park, I had to climb 9 kms of wild trail with almost 50 kgs between the bike and the saddlebags, so they recommended me to take a van for that stretch. The weather made my mind up and I decided to go directly to Latacunga, where another member of Warmshowers was waiting for me, Javier. The steep slopes and the altitude itself took my toll and I was really tired. It was the second stage and my legs were not used to it yet.

From Latacunga I rode to Ambato and from Via Flores road towards Chimborazo (6310 m). Chimborazo is the highest mountain measured from the center of the earth and therefore, the closest point in earth from the sun. Without a doubt, this was so far the most difficult stage. From 2500 meters to 4800m. More than 50 kms uphill.

 

 

 

 

La entrada Sumendien ibilbidea / The volcanoes avenue aparece primero en Yukan Innovate.

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