Fiesta Popular

Isinlivi is a tiny Pueblo high in the Andes mountains.  Loads of trekkers go there because it’s on a 3 day hiking route to Lago Quilotoa, a sapphire volcanic lake.  Before we come to Ecuador, I envision hiking this route. But reality sets in that we’re not up for it. Nonetheless, we go to Isinlivi to take short hikes, and little do we know what an adventure it will be.  As we get off the bus, a band is playing.  Good sign!

We follow a young couple to our hostel, Llullullama (pronounced jshu-jshu-jshama), which is popular for good reason.  First we meet Balu, the wandering Saint Bernard.  A sign inside asks trekkers not to let him join them.  Too often they have to retrieve him from other villages.

The interior is so friendly and homey.  We are more than double the age of anyone else working or visiting Llullullama.

This lounge area, the dining room and especially our private cabana are  really comfy.  We decide to stay 3 nights.  There’s a free morning yoga class, after all!

Tito, the resident llama is quite an effective lawn mower.  At dinner we meet the nicest young couples. To our surprise, a sweet and interesting Finnish couple we met in Baños comes in a little late, having hiked for 4 hours from Sigos, which was a long steep bus trip for us.  She is a little bedraggled from the hike and altitude.

In the morning, after yoga and a friendly breakfast, we set off for a hike.  

This feller wants us to know who’s in charge.  After an hour, I’ve had enough.  The altitude and steep climbs are tough.

We wander around town and things are happening.  First we see a palo encebado (greased pole) being raised by a small army of men.  I’ve read about this in my Spanish class! There’s a lot of heaving and hoing to get the huge thing up and then lots of earth tamping, because it is not secured into any foundation but the dirt.  The “tree top” is strung with goodies - buckets, toys, blankets, booze and more.

Meanwhile, old ladies are tamping corn stalks and tree branches in each of the corners of the fenced-in rodeo corral, then stringing the stalks with fruits and food items.  It’s quite mysterious.

A lady asks me to take a selfie with her.

We meet an Italian gentleman who tries to fill me in with his limited English.  He is visiting his daughter who is part of a group of young Italian Catholic women volunteering in Isinlivi. They have made no progress in setting up a work program for village women, because the husbands object and machismo is a solid fact of rural life in Ecuador.

He explains that this weekend is a fiesta for the patron saint of Isinlivi, John the Baptist (Juan Bautista).   He introduces us to the really nice priest who invites us to see the church.  

There’s a master woodworker in Isinlivi and his work graces the church as well as our hostel.  Unfortunately the workshop is closed this weekend.

The next morning I am chatting with the hostel manager and we hear music outside the door.  We rush out just in time to see the parade coming.

These lovely senioritas follow the young men in gorgeous costumes.  It’s a big combo of ancient Incan traditions co-opted into a Catholic event.

Next come the church stewards and on the left, a few traditional masked tricksters who use rakes to tease and trip onlookers.

After them are caballeros with live chickens strung upside down on a pole.

The covered market pavilion is bustling with food vendors, tiny carnival rides for kids, ladies knitting and selling and repetitive band music.  I buy the black and tan basketon the floor in front of the sign for $5.

This church lady approaches Ben with a smile, takes him firmly by the arm and escorts him across the pavilion to line up to pay a $1 ransom from her “capture” and get his hand stamped.  We only learn the next day that the hand stamp entitled him to free food from one of the food tables.

The sun, “planted” crops, and other symbols seem like harvest icons.

Moonshine is being poured for the caballeros, and we’ll see plenty of inebriation as the day wears on.

At some signal not heard by us, there’s almost a melee as people rush to the corral corners and good naturedly fight for the fruits that have been tied to the corn stalks since yesterday.  It’s like the rush for scattered piñata candy :)

This señora scored a precious pineapple and hugged it close.

Another busy spot is beside the church where the Italians have set up a prize raffle.  Ben gets in the long to pay his dollar and draw a number. 

Will his number get the soccer ball?  The cooking pot?

The boy in front of him looks hopefully at the number he has drawn. 

He wins a pair of stiletto red booties!

Ben wins a kilo of rice.

Now it’s time to watch the young teen boys try to climb the palo.  The first one strips off all the eucalyptus bark as he climbs.  The higher he gets the more nervous I am.  The pole is only in dirt! It’s 30 feet up!  

He’s determined and parents are shouting for what prizes he should claim.  

Soon there are 3 boys on the palo, getting a little more reckless about tossing down the prizes, a few of which break on landing.  Some mothers are quite pleased by what their chicos have tossed to them.  Pride in their valor too.

Next, a bullfight!  The poor toros have been jabbed repeatedly to enrage them before they’re released. The men and boys strut out with capes and old blankets to play matador.  

Luckily, no hombres or toros are injured,  but there’s just enough close calls to keep the crowd happy.

Back at Llullullama, Balu is keeping watch.  We have had the most interesting day!  We’ve been made welcome and feel so lucky to be here for the fiesta.

Next day, we will make it, by bus, to Lago Quilotoa.  It really is a stunning destination, no doubt more so if you hike 3 days to get there.  But we are certain our experience in Isinlivi will leave more lasting memories!