(Version française plus bas)

The Otavalo market is so colorful and Otavaleños are such good sellers that it’s hard not to buy anything. While Jenna and Amy were on a quest for the perfect poncho and winter hat, I had a look at what street food sellers had in store. As I was considering getting myself some humitas, I noticed an old man standing by me and drinking a purple liquid out of a plastic cup. Segundo was trying to tell me how good his blackberry colada was. Despite his mumbling, he convinced me. I got myself a glass of colada de mora which was delicious, and he rewarded me with the most beautiful smile!

Showing a tourist how to wear a locally-made scarf

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I’ve done some pretty crazy things in my life, mostly in the last year (swim with sharks, teach English to Korean kindergartners, jump from moving trains, drink milk a day after the expiration date, etc).  I have a predilection  towards finding myself in situations where I hear that little voice in my head saying “Freddie, what are you thinking? What are you trying to prove?” and this I have learned is just my mind’s way of alerting me to the fact that I am about to have a great story to tell if I survive. Just the other night I almost plummeted to my death into a raging river but luckily just landed on a muddy ledge. God, thanks for that one.  Why would I attempt to hike a mountain in the dark with no flashlight while wearing Chuck Taylors you ask?  Two words. Inti Raymi. This summer solstice festival is a huge deal for the indigenous people in Otavalo that have been celebrating this holiest of holy festivals since their Incan forefathers ruled the Andean region centuries ago.  They celebrate this event once a year with a riot of folk music, a fermented drink called Chicha, house parties and bathing in the waterfall at midnight on this special night- the waters are supposed to give one the necessary energy and vitality to dance all night honoring the Sun God for the following 5 nights.

Traveling around Ecuador the past few months I have been treated to some pretty impressive sights, think snow capped volcanoes, waking in a tent atop the Andes mountains, wild orchids growing in cloud forests, deserted beaches, pristine colonial architecture, guinea pigs roasting on a spit, but the reason that I risked life and limb to get the Peguche Waterfalls precisely at midnight, was just what my subconscious was trying to tell me all along with its repeated warnings that  clearly went unheeded.  After a slippery hour long hike in relative darkness, only couple of flashlights and the big beautiful moon served to illuminate our pilgrimage  over the handful of bridges that consisted of nothing more than some logs and boards haphazardly placed along the way.  The “bridges” went over river rapids, over drainage ditches and irrigation canals and ranged anywhere  from 15- to 20 feet in length.  I don’t know how we did it in the dark, I still don’t know how the fear didn’t throw me off balance, but the support of my friends and constant prayers to God saying  “God, if I can survive this, I will NEVER do this again!” , helped me make it across every time.  It felt like we were in the Ecuadorean version of “Stand by Me” .  Then after an hour of wandering lost in the woods we finally heard the roar of the waterfalls.

We found the trail that took us to the waterfall and were greeted with a huge crowd of revelers in basking in the moonlight, some in various states on undress as they took the chilly plunge into the waters, some watched, bands of musicians provided the perfect score as the shadows from the fires set up around the area danced in unison with us all. The sight, sounds and energy of the night were more than my limited vocabulary can capture in this blog post but I can assure that the Sun God smiled down upon us that night at Peguche Waterfall.

I love markets. Not to buy, no, but to gaze at the local products, smell the unknown, find the unusual, photograph the contrasts and ask questions to local sellers. Otavalo was my realm, for one day.

J’adore les marchés. Non pas pour acheter, non, mais pour contempler les produits locaux, humer l’inconnu, trouver l’original, photographier les contrastes and poser des questions aux marchands locaux. Otavalo fut mon royaume, le temps d’une journée.

Working at Otavalo mercado de artesania

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Otavalo, is a city in the Imbabura province just 2 hours North from Quito by bus.  The city is known throughout the country for being very indigenous and faithful to its Incan heritage, the men sport long hair kept in pony tails topped off with a fedora hat and peacock feather, while the women wear white blouses with colorful skirts and long strings of beads around their necks. (more…)