mishqui-yacu, sweet water

Transcription

Ministry
of Social
Welfare
[
Royal Embassy of
The Netherlands in
Ecuador
]
The story of a development project
carried out with the indigenous
peoples of Ecuador
Table of Contents
3
5
9
11
14
14
16
18
25
26
30
33
35
38
46
50
52
55
56
60
64
67
70
75
75
79
80
81
87
89
94
Foreword
Preface
Presentation
Introduction
Ecuador: Reign of Contrasts
The Highlands
Thirst for Water in Hatun Cañar
The Cañaris
Mountains: Realm of Power
Culebrillas: Where the Water Is Born
Water and Development
Cañari Development Initiatives
The Initial Proposal
Conflict!
Local Patriotism
The Huasipungo System
Land Reforms
Up from the Middle Ages
Getting Organized
The ‘Indian Question’ and the
Rise of CONAIE
UPCCC, CARC and
Ethnic Politics in Cañar
The Baseline Study
Cholera and Drinking Water
Credit
Gender and Migration
Politics and Renovation
The Farmer Coordinator
Irrigation
The Mestizos?
What Can We Learn from the
CARC Project?
Bibliography
© 2001 by the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD)
The designations employed and the presentation of material in this publication do not imply the expression of any opinion whatsoever on the part of the International Fund for Agricultural Development of the
United Nations concerning the legal status of any country, territory, city or area or of its authorities, or
concerning the delimitation of its frontiers or boundaries. The designations “developed” and “developing” economies are intended for statistical convenience and do not necessarily express a judgement
about the stage reached by a particular country or area in the development process.
All rights reserved
ISBN 92-9072-010-7
Prepared by: Jan Lundius for the Latin America and the Caribbean
Division of IFAD. Jan Lundius is an academic of Swedish nationality
with a doctorate in Comparative Religion and with a specialization in
the nature of religion in rural areas. We would like to thank Jan
Lundius for giving us the opportunity to profit by his vast knowledge
and creative ability in documenting experiences in rural development.
Produced by: Publications Team of IFAD
Design: Silvia Persi
All photos IFAD
Susan Beccio: pages 5, 6, 9, 11, 13, 17, 28, 32, 45, 51, 53, 57, 61, 63,
69, 74, 78, 81 - Giuseppe Bizzarri: cover and pages 7, 25, 35, 37, 59,
64, 72, 81, 82, 83, 85, 91, 93 - Jan Lundius: cover and pages 3, 20, 21,
23, 27, 41, 42, 46, 55, 67, 69, 72, 77, 85, 87, 89, 91
Printed by: GMS Grafiche - Rome, Italy
April 2001
Via del Serafico, 107 – 00142 Rome, Italy
Tel.: +39-0654591 – Fax: +39-065043463
E-mail: [email protected] - Web site: www.ifad.org
foreword
Ecuador is a small country that straddles the equator, or the
ecuador in Spanish. Its long beaches are just hours away from its high
mountain peaks, which rise up only hours away from its lush forests,
so rich in natural resources. In this book, Jan Lundius gives an objective description of nature’s generosity in Ecuador and its rich diversity
of ethnic groups, each with its own customs. One of these groups is the
Cañaris, the original inhabitants of the mountains and valleys of the
southern highland region. The Cañaris have received support from the
Government of Ecuador through IFAD financing of a rural development project that also included contributions from the Government of
the Kingdom of The Netherlands. As the following chapters will note,
it was not always an easy path; in fact, many hurdles had to be overcome but, in the end, will-power prevailed.
The Cañaris – who are both the focus and the raison d’être of the
project – of course hold their own views and from time to time have
said “no” to mestizo technical staff who have wanted to do things for
them rather than with them. The process ultimately was one of consensus involving joint decisions and joint work, and the presence of
Rudolf Mulder and later Gauke Andriesse, both of The Netherlands,
was of vital importance to the project’s success.
Under the Agrarian Reform Act of 1963, the land was returned to its
rightful owners: the indigenous communities. Although the process
itself was fraught with inequities, this piece of legislation enshrined a
historical act of sweeping proportions: it broke the chains that had
bound indigenous people to landowners, thus bringing an end to a
dark period in the country’s history.
[The Cañari people said "no"]
3
4
This meant that many indigenous people were now owners of their
own small lots (huasipungos). But the strong sunlight that shines
down on this region of the world is counteracted by the lack of another
crucial element: water. Indigenous residents and farmers alike have
always had one eye on the field as they sowed their crops and the
other on the sky, hopeful that clouds would soon appear to provide
water to make their plants grow and to fill the cisterns for their family drinking water.
The local Cañari organizations and mestizo farmers that had joined
the project thus decided that the Upper Basin of the Cañar River
Rural Development Project (CARC) should focus on the construction, rehabilitation and maintenance of irrigation canals and water
supply systems. The testimonials that follow speak eloquently of the
overall process, including the problems encountered and how they
were overcome.
It was clear that start-up of the activities would need to be accompanied by training and the organization of water user boards to ensure
rational water use and management, strengthening of organizations
that benefit from irrigation canals, technical assistance and credit.
These activities complement each other; if they are not carried out in
a simultaneous and comprehensive fashion, the component is doomed
to failure.
This has not been an easy project; in fact, it has been a very complex one. The actors, however, have always had the integrity to keep
moving ahead despite all the problems. In the final analysis, it may not
be all that different from many other projects. What makes it different
is the setting in which it has been carried out.
Rafael Guerrero Burgos
Undersecretary for Rural Development
Ministry of Social Welfare
preface
Aside from supporting the fight against poverty, what other
motivation or specific orientation led The Netherlands Development
Cooperation to cofinance, beginning in early 1992, the Upper Basin of
the Cañar River Rural Development Project (CARC)?
Land reform alone was obviously not the definitive solution to the
problems of the rural poor in Cañar province. It was not enough just
to have land to sow crops or graze livestock on, nor was it enough to
hope for an "excellent" rainy season. The key would be water for irrigation, a very scarce resource.
Accordingly, working with the International Fund for Agricultural
Development (with support from the Andean Development Corporation
and the Inter-American Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture), the
Ministry of Social Welfare (through its Undersecretariat for Rural
Development) and various smaller-scale indigenous and farmer organizations, The Netherlands Development Cooperation lent support for
implementation of the CARC project. The purpose of the project was
to boost food self-sufficiency and in-come levels for rural poor in the
area, mainly by increasing the availability of water through the construction or rehabilitation of irrigation systems and better on-farm
management of water.
Once it became clear that the ill-advised plan to build a dam on
Lake Culebrillas had failed, the project was immediately reformulated. Priority was shifted from "irrigation systems" to "water management", following recommendations of the initial technical review mission and the findings of a baseline study (Rural Economy and
Production Systems: A Baseline Study for the Andean Highlands
5
6
[Economía campesina y sistemas de producción, estudio de base de la
sierra andina]. DHV Consultants BV, Quito, 1995). The study analysed
all facets of the producer economy, described the region’s agroecology
and helped to explain the existing interrelationships. It also contributed to the planning, implementation, monitoring and evaluation of
the project and provided tools for training and technical assistance.
The construction and rehabilitation of infrastructure, which included
rural roads, was complemented with sustainable community-based
management of forest resources, farm credit and legal advice for the
organizations.
Although start-up technically took place in 1996, the first tangible
achievements did not appear until 1997, owing mainly to recurring
political problems (government instability) and, to a certain degree,
lack of local counterpart funding (economic and financial crisis).
Working against a project completion horizon of 1999, a second
technical review mission was sent to the field and concluded that,
despite the relatively short time the project had been under implementation, some important achievements had been made in such
areas as construction work and the strengthening of local organizations. Subcontracting to non-governmental organizations (e.g. for
drinking water supply and credit) had been a key factor.
On that basis, the project was extended through the end of 2000 in
order to allow for completion of the physical infrastructure and the
consolidation and transfer of its management. Other activities involved organized beneficiary groups (irrigation and water user boards)
and other local organizations, and increased support for productive
activities.
[Fair distribution of water]
The strategy called for a gradual but significant scaling back of the
project’s executing unit, while transferring responsibility for services
to local organizations such as producer or water user associations and
subcontracting to NGOs at least through 2001. These NGOs (consortia
made up of CICDA-CEDIR and PROTOS-SENDAS) are overseeing the
transfer, technical assistance and training activities that will promote
the diversification of production and build post-harvest and marketing capacity among farmer organizations – as well as among farmers
and their families – in the high-priority areas of El Tambo-Juncal and
Suscal-Chontamarca.
In other words, the last stage of the project aims to intensify the agricultural output of local production units by ensuring access to, control over
and use of resources, services and infrastructure for production, irrigation
and drinking water, as well as the strengthening of their organizations.
The objectives are many: enhance the availability, control and fair
distribution of water for irrigation and human consumption; have
water user and irrigation boards assume responsibility for sustainable
management of their systems (administration, operation and maintenance) and conflict resolution; diversify and intensify the agricultural
output of production units; help producer groups to market products
with greater added value, on a timely basis, through traditional or new
marketing chains so as to enhance local production prices and foster
new investment; achieve better gender balance by raising the profile
and strengthening the leadership of women in producer associations
and boards and ensure gender equity in access to project benefits; and
systematize and disseminate the project’s experience by training professionals, technical specialists, rural residents and students in the
value of water in productive systems.
7
8
There are at least three important lessons to be drawn from the
years of work with this type of project. First, the factors of production
(water, land, credit) cannot be approached in an isolated fashion; rather, they need to be complemented with other activities through-out
the production chain and even in the marketing chain, as part of a
long-term process. Second, the involvement of beneficiary organizations – in this case, irrigation and water user boards, producer associations, communities and smaller-scale organizations – is crucial to
obtaining tangible, sustainable results, thus meshing and reconciling
their initiatives and proposals with the support from NGOs, governmental agencies and international cooperation. Lastly, ethnic and cultural factors – in this case, of the Cañari group – must be taken into
account in programming and implementation, especially if activities
are to be sustainable.
The Embassy of The Netherlands in Ecuador presents this publication as a testimony to the responsibility that was gratefully shared,
despite the many issues it had to address with the numerous actors
and stakeholders involved in the important task here described.
Jan Bauer
Environmental Affairs and
Rural Development Specialist
Royal Embassy of The Netherlands
Quito, Ecuador
presentation
I have known the Cañar project for more than ten years – since its
development phase, which marked the beginning of IFAD's attention
to indigenous peoples in various Latin American countries. As can be
seen in this publication, the history of indigenous peoples has gone
through a series of dramatic historical stages. The year 1992 marked
the 500th anniversary of the conquest of many of the lands belonging
to indigenous peoples – and since then they have had to struggle for
their rights, their land and respect for their culture.
The Cañar project has been no exception to this history and the
project went through a very tense and difficult initial phase. The project design paid insufficient attention to past history and the concerns
of the various communities that should have been the leading actors
in this activity. This was a hard lesson for us – equitable participation
had not been adequately respected.
In the second phase since 1995, local organizations and the project
showed the fruits of close shoulder-to-shoulder collaboration. As a
result, irrigators' boards were set up, and the confidence of the population was gained when a cholera epidemic was overcome. An
unorthodox system was put in place ("Electric Water") for supplying
drinking water to various communities, and of course the project
facilitated the arrival of water to crops via irrigation systems.
Having arrived at the end of this project, we would like to think about,
listen to and reflect on the history of the Cañaris at various stages of
their existence as well as bring together certain elements of what the
Cañar project tried to support – greater access to water, improved
organization and a more equitable society for men and women.
[Shoulder–to–shoulder
collaboration]
9
10
IFAD considers that this project has been successful not so much
for having reached all of its initially stated objectives, but because it
left an inheritance in the hands of the El Tambo and Suscal communities that should enable them to improve the lives of their families in
coming years and decades.
We are very grateful to the Cañaris, their organizations, the Cañar
project technical staff and to the NGOs CICDA-CEDIR, PROTOS and
SENDAS – without them, it would not have been possible in such a
short time, since 1997, to have achieved so much.
I would also like to thank the Government of The Netherlands,
which not only made a financial donation to the project, but also facilitated very crucial support to its implementation through the provision of experts and especially the codirectors.
I would like to invite you to read this story of the Cañar project and
of the Cañaris – do not expect a standard project completion report,
nor a checklist of successes. However, I think that in this simple and
open account the reader can appreciate the achievements of the Cañar
communities, as well as the difficulties they overcame to attain them.
Raquel Peña-Montenegro
Director
Latin America and the Caribbean Division
IFAD
introduction
This is not a book about a project. Rather, it is a book about the people who live in an area where a development project was carried out.
The Cañaris are one of Ecuador’s indigenous groups and in this book
they have been given an opportunity to speak up and speak out about
the IFAD-designed and supported CARC project: the impact it has had
on their lives, how it has helped them, how it has opened their eyes to
new opportunities, and how some of these opportunities have yet to be
fully tapped.
The story of the Cañaris is an important one and the CARC project
is only a small part of that story (indeed, it is almost an entire story in
and of itself). The history of the Cañaris is a story of the struggle for
water (for irrigation) and of the peace and unity brought by water (for
consumption). It is a story about lack of foresight stemming from precipitate action by well-meaning mestizos and Europeans and unfamiliarity with cañari history. But it is also a story that stands out, like the
water pipes brought later by the mestizos to combat a cholera epidemic that threatened to decimate the Cañaris, and a story that highlights the importance of bottom-up organization among the project’s
target population, who were able to effect change and transform a
bureaucratic instrument into a form of democratic development that
is pursued by consensus among area residents, consultants, officials of
IFAD, The Netherlands Cooperation and the national and local governments of Ecuador.
The lessons learned from this experience point, once again, to the
importance of organizations and “ownership” by project beneficiaries.
of struggle
[A story
and peace
brought by water ]
11
12
They underscore the positive impact of small-scale factors that lie
within their control and contribute to making their activities sustainable. They also show the importance of open dialogue between organizations and between “inside” and “outside” stakeholders in the service
of development.
The CARC project teaches, once again, how a lack of familiarity with
local traditions and customs, coupled with projects perceived as
“monumental”, such as the attempt to build a dam on Lake
Culebrillas, are neither the door nor the path to combat rural poverty.
There are also some smaller lessons to be learned, on details such
as credit, infrastructure, technical assistance and training, i.e. what
worked and what did not. The most important lessons, however, were
the crucial role of bottom-up organization, the dynamic role of rural
women and the setting aside of ethnic and political divisions when a
community and human lives are at stake.
Fate (the appearance of a horrible disease) and the solutions
devised to combat it lay at the root of the second period of Cañari history: development of the upper Cañar River basin.
In this second period, a leading role was played by the men and
women of The Netherlands Cooperation (especially Rudolf Mulder
and Gauke Andriesse), the unflagging efforts of local officials – both
indigenous and non-indigenous – and Ecuador’s Ministry of Social
Welfare, and last but not least, the support of IFAD staff in Rome.
The main part, however, has been played and continues to be played
by the indigenous Cañari men and women and the organizations
through which they decided to take their fate into their own hands. It
is to them that we dedicate this book, which Jan Lundius has produced
by weaving local voices in with interviews and study findings. We hope
that this story will allow readers that are unfamiliar with the CARC project area to gain a fuller understanding and appreciation of it.
Mishqui-Yacu–sweet water–thanks to the Cañaris who have breathed
new freshness into it. That is what this book is about.
Pablo Glikman
Country Portfolio Manager
Latin America and the Caribbean Division
IFAD
[
]
Ecuador: Reign of Contrasts
Within the Latin American context, Ecuador is a small country
with a land area of 284 000 km2 and approximately 12.5 million
inhabitants. Nevertheless, it is a country characterized by contrast,
a mosaic of unique geographical regions populated by peoples whose
ancestors have either lived there for thousands of years, or arrived
from Europe and Africa over the last five hundred years.1
Cut in two by the Equator, Ecuador has a climate similar to that of
Equatorial Africa. However, the chilly Humboldt Current, sweeping
along the coast and the Andes, running like a vertebra from north to
south, create a varied landscape that shelters a wide range of distinctive ecosystems: hot coastal plains with banana, sugarcane and
cocoa plantations, lined by long stretches of unspoilt sandy beaches;
river estuaries harbouring mangrove swamps, although many are
being cut back to make way for shrimp farms (often operated by itinerant workers from the highlands not far away). A few hours drive
will take you to cool valleys where wet mists often hide the blue
skies. Huge mountain peaks or threatening volcanoes shelter these
places from the steaming jungles that lie on the other side of the
Andean range.
The Ecuadorians divide their nation into roughly three different
areas: the Coast, the Andean Highlands, and the East, i.e. the
Amazonas.
14
The Highlands
The Ecuadorian Andes are formed by two parallel chains of mountains, the Cordillera Occidental and the Cordillera Real or Oriental,
both with peaks ranging from 4 000 to 4 500 m above sea level. These
ranges are joined at intervals by transverse foothills, called knots.
Between these two ranges lie the valleys of the Highlands, called
basins, situated from 2 200 to 2 800 m. The basins are quite fertile,
1
There are at least ten different native ethnic groups in Ecuador, each of which considers itself a distinct nationality with its own language and culture. Furthermore, there
are descendants of Africans and Europeans. A 1993 census divides the population into
roughly the following groups: mestizos 40%, indigenous peoples 40%, whites 10-15%,
blacks and mulattos 5-10% (Holmberg (1998), p.5).
with most characterized by volcanic soils. A river flows from each
basin to the east or west. These highland valleys have been populated for many centuries. From the valley floors, a patchwork of small
fields extends far up on the mountainsides, demonstrating the intensive use made of every available inch of land.
The diverse cropping systems that have developed in the
Highlands are based on complicated farming systems, integrating
the cultivation of maize, potatoes (and similar tubers), quinoa, and
leguminous plants. Breeding of domesticated animals such as
camelids (llamas, alpacas and vicuñas) and guinea pigs has developed in these areas. When the Spaniards arrived in the sixteenth
century, they brought drastic changes, including the introduction of
entirely new species such as wheat, barley, rice, sugar cane, horses,
cows and pigs. New agricultural techniques such as the use of animal power and ploughs with iron shares revolutionized agriculture,
upset age-old traditions and threatened the sensitive volcanic soil
ecosystems.
During the last century, the coastal areas witnessed spectacular
growth in agricultural production but output was mainly destined
for international markets, while the Andean valleys continued to
produce most of the food for domestic consumption. However,
Ecuadorian agriculture is under threat. The ever-increasing reduction of plant cover on Andean hillsides has led to an alarming drop
in water resources, while illegal use of artificial agricultural inputs
is damaging the environment.
ESMERALDAS
CARCHI
IMBABURA
SUCUMBIÓS
PICHINCHA
NAPO
MANABÍ
COTOPAXI
TUNCURAHUA
LOS
RIOS
BOLÍVAR
PASTAZA
CHIMBORAZO
GUAYAS
CAÑAR
AZUAY
EL ORO
[Ecuador]
ZAMORA
CHINCHIPE
LOJA
MORONA
SANTIAGO
15
The land’s diminishing production capacity has affected the living
conditions of Andean rural poor families. Their opportunities to earn
a decent income are diminishing, health conditions are deteriorating
and desperate farmers often see migration as the only way to escape
a bleak future of poverty.2 Ecuadorian rural life is being affected by
two land reforms, ever-increasing social mobility and a changing
political landscape. However, the discouraging fact remains that
three-fourths of the farmers still try to make a living from plots of
less than five hectares, which is seldom enough to meet even the
most minimal needs of their families.3 Seventy-five per cent of
Ecuador’s rural poor continue to live in a state of absolute poverty.4
Thirst for Water in Hatun Cañar
16
In the southern part of the Ecuadorian Andes, there is the basin of
the Cañar River – a huge, undulating valley circumscribed by the
knots of Azuay and Buerán and the mountain ranges of Cordillera
Occidental and Cordillera Real. This is the heartland of Hatun
Cañar, the old ‘nation’ of the Cañari people, whose descendants still
live in the area.5
The swift-running, clear Cañar River cuts through a landscape
that is emerald green and lush during the rainy season (OctoberApril) and withered brown and grey during the dry months. During
this dry season, rainfall comes well short of meeting the demand for
water, while several areas suffer from lack of water throughout the
year. Climatological peculiarities and soil quality present remarkable
variations within short distances. Although most of this area is under
irrigation, water is limited everywhere and is used infrequently and
insufficiently. Cañari people work hard to build and maintain irrigation ditches, trying to make the best possible use of every available
source of water. However, the existing irrigation infrastructure
2
3
4
5
6
Gómez (1989) presents a comprehensive summary of Ecuadorian geography.
Rossing (1996), p. 102.
IFAD (1995), p. 6.
Bolivar Zaruma (1980), pp. 17-20. Ecuador is divided into 22 provinces, subdivided into
cantons. Each canton is administered by a Municipal Council, headed by a mayor. The
province of Cañar is administered by a Provincial Council, situated in the town of
Azogues and is divided into the cantons of Azogues, Biblián, La Troncal, Déleg, Cañar,
El Tambo and Suscal. The three last mentioned cantons roughly constitute the area of
the Upper Basin of the Cañar River (Freire Heredia and Usca (2000), pp. 47 and 59-62).
The area of the Upper Basin covers 99500 ha, with altitudes ranging from 800 to 4 400
m. The census of 1990 estimated its population at 77 100 inhabitants, with the majority
defined as ‘indigenous people’, i.e. Cañaris (IFAD (1995), p. 7).
DHV Consultants (1995), pp. 159-60 and 259-60, and IFAD (1995), pp. 11-12.
remains rudimentary. There is a constant need for financing and
technical assistance. Disorganized systems hamper water distribution, as well as the sizes, inclination and irregular shapes of the
plots. Every year, inadequate use of irrigation destroys the sensitive
soils, washing them down from hills and mountainsides. Erosion and
lack of protection of water sources are caused by indiscriminate
felling of trees and the stripping away of protective plant cover.
Overuse and compression are diminishing soil capacity for water
absorption.6 When talking to farmers in the area, water is an issue
that never fails to come up. It is common to hear sayings such as:
“Water is to the earth like blood to the humans”.
Still, it is hard to perceive these problems at the end of the rainy
season. Thick mists roll down from the mountainsides or rise from
the distant and invisible seacoast. In several places, water gushes
down, while small streams and brooks are seen everywhere. There
are traces of flooding, such as damaged roads and ruined bridges.
You may follow the water’s course high up along steep mountainsides, all the way up to springs and lagoons within the majestic landscapes of cold and humid plains, sheltered by the awesome peaks of
the mighty Andes.
Map of the
CARC project area
Huigra Capzol
CHIMBORAZO
Compud
Llagos
Gral. Morales
Chontamarca
Suscal
Rio Cañar
Zhud
Juncal
El Tambo
San Antonio
Gualleturo
Cañar
Ingapirca
Honorato Vásquez
Chorocopte
CAÑAR
earth
[Water is toliketheblood
to the humans]
17
The Cañaris
18
A landscape is more than topography, mountains and rivers.
Almost every piece of land in the world is intimately related to the
lives of the people who make a living there. Those who named the
Cañar river – the Cañaris – constitute the most distinguished group
of people inhabiting the river basin. Before the Inca invasion,7 Cañari
was the greatest culture existing in what is now Ecuador. Few traces
remain of the original Cañari culture. The language has disappeared,
and only a few words and customs remain, together with a wealth of
orally transmitted legends and a few archaeological sites.
The Cañaris were divided into a series of independent lordships,
curacazgos. The names remain – Checa, Sigsig, Molleturo,
Cañaribamba and of course Hatun Cañar, apparently the most
important of them all. Cañari society was highly stratified, a fact
reflected by the great wealth of the furnishings of Cañari noble
tombs. Gold and silver came from richly endowed mines within
their territory.8
Spanish chroniclers mention with awe the Cañaris
valiant and bellicose nature, honed through
constant skirmishes with their neighbours.
In particular, the Spaniards mention
that the Cañaris did not have slaves.
They were distinguished from other
peoples by their language, their way of
dressing and that both women and
men wore their hair very long. The
chroniclers also stressed that there
were more Cañari women than men. Cieza
de León, who visited the territory in 1547,
found 15 women to every man. Ferocious bloodletting had befallen the Cañaris after the Inca invasion.
Under the Duma, probably a title given to the curaca of Sigsig, the
Cañaris fought against superior odds before being subdued. The
Inca Topa Yupanqui attempted to smash Cañari opposition by removing the populations of whole villages to the neighbourhood of Cuzco,
replacing them with loyal mitamakuna. The mitamakuna were
Mythic figure of
the Cañari culture
with human, feline, snake
and eagle features
colonists from the Peruvian heartland who settled in occupied territories. They maintained their ties with their original homeland,
thus forming a nucleus loyal to the state in the midst of foreign
ethnic groups. The imperial policy speeded up the process of
Cañari acculturation, evidenced by the fact that by the arrival of
the Spaniards the Cañaris already spoke Quichua, the language of
the Inca conquerors. The Inca presence is still visible through the
remains of the mighty Ingañan, the paved Inca highway that cuts
through desolate plains high up in the Andes. Within the Cañar
river basin, the Ingañan passes close by the village of Ingapirca,
which lies beneath a combined fortress and temple. An impressive
structure, built with Inca stone masonry techniques using 'cushionshaped' boulders, Ingapirca is well preserved and Ecuador's most
prestigious Inca site. It was probably built in connection with earlier Cañari structures, perhaps the political and cult centre of
Hatun Cañar.
The Cañari people continued to suffer under Spanish rule. The
remaining Cañari leaders opted for an alliance with the new
invaders. On their way to conquer Quito, three thousand Cañari warriors joined the Spanish forces of Benalcázar. The Spaniards noted
their allies’ exceptional bravery and later stated they would have
been lost without their help and efficient guidance. The Cañaris
fought alongside the Spanish throughout the conquest of Ecuador.
The last big campaign they carried out for the Spaniards was the
quelling of huge rebellions in Lita and Quilca in 1554. Nevertheless,
Cañaris received scant recognition from the Spanish for their help.
Already in 1544, many thousands had been forced to work in the gold
and silver mines of their former territory. In 1578, the Spaniards
ruthlessly suffocated a desperate Cañari rebellion. During that campaign the Spanish forces were helped by descendants of the same
Incas they formerly had fought against with Cañari support.9 At present, an estimated 40 000 Quichua-speaking Cañaris are scattered
throughout the province of Cañar.10
7
8
9
10
It was the Inca Topa Yupanqui that attacked the Cañari lands around 1463. With the
fall of Quito in 1492, he finished the conquest of what is now the Ecuadorian Highlands. The Spanish conquest began in 1530; by 1549, the Spaniards had subjugated
all ethnic groups of the present Highlands.
Pérez et al. (1998), p. 29.
For a summary of Cañari history, see Moreno Yánez (1996), pp. 96-100.
Perrottet (1994), p. 220.
19
20
With the recent revival of Cañari pride it is now common to hear
the Cañaris recalling the glory of their ancestors, commonly referred
to as the ‘grandfathers’. The names of Cañari warriors who opposed
both Incas and Spaniards are often evoked in Cañari rhetoric and
political discourse. Cañari pride is also evident from the fact that
many of them elect to wear their traditional clothes and long guangos, the hair braids sported by both men and women.
On market days, Saturdays in the town of Cañar, a great variety
of traditional Cañari dress can be admired. Several men dress in
kushma, a poncho for festive use, black, often knee-long, wool
pants and white cotton shirts, with embroidery on the sleeves and
collars. The women wear the colourful skirts common throughout
the Andes. However, typical features of feminine Cañari dress are
the embroidered blouses covered by a black, red-lined shoulder
wrap. This woollen shawl is fastened by a silver tupu, an ornamented, thick dress needle often found in ancient Cañari tombs.
Both men and women wear the typical Cañari hat, made of white
felt, with a narrow brim often turned up at the front. Mentioning
Cañari dress in relation to ethnic pride and self-expression is
important, because it is often dress and not 'race' that determines
an indigenous sense of belonging.
The women of Cañar
fasten their woollen shawls
with a silver tupu
[
]
Dress is an element of ethnic pride for the Cañari people
My village was quite isolated and we did not see many white people. Everyone talked to one another in Quichua. It was only during market days, on Saturdays, when we walked in to Suscal,
that you saw other people. It is still like that in many places. You
work in the fields, or in your home, bringing down the produce
of your land on market days. However, I went to school in Suscal
and it was then I realized that there were different classes of people. We had to turn ourselves into mestizos in school and that
meant we had to cut off the braid. Many Cañari boys and girls
underwent a painful change in school. We were not allowed to
speak Quichua and several of us were ashamed of our own traditions. I remember how I completely denied my parents for
three days after cutting my braid and beginning school. When I
was a young man studying to be a teacher, I also entered a profound identity crisis. Denying my roots completely, I did not
want to be a runa.11
22
In 1971, I was the first indigenous person to attend the secondary
school in Cañar. It was very hard for me. I felt apart and discriminated against. After the third course I left school. It was not
voluntary. A female teacher told me I had to leave because I did
not have a uniform. My parents could not afford to give me one.
She knew that, but I had to leave anyway. I see her sometimes in
the street. She knows I remember her.12
An area where the Cañari traditions are particular powerful is traditional medicine. The Upper Basin of the Cañar River Rural
Development Project (CARC), discussed in this book, includes a small
component aimed at instructing beneficiaries in the usefulness of several herbs and plants. This activity has proved to be useful in introducing people to the importance of preventive health care.
11
12
13
Interview with José Lema. Runa, the Quichua word for man, is often used in a derogatory way.
Interview with Rebeca Pichazaea.
Interview with Paola Guaman. The Rebeca mentioned in this quotation is Rebeca
Pichazaea.
Medicines offered by the pharmacies are too expensive for us. One
of my girls was very sick. One day I had to pay 60 000 sucres for
medicine. Another day, 200 000 sucres. The doctor told me to buy
the medicine; I did not know what it was. I know that pharmacy
medicine is often necessary. However, if we cannot afford such
medicine we have to use the knowledge our grandmothers passed
down to us. They had knowledge and experience of their own.
When things get really bad we have to go to the doctor, the pharmacy, the hospital. Rebeca helps us with her knowledge of western medicine. Nevertheless, she is also very knowledgeable about
our own traditions. She has been taught in health centres. She
knows about bleeding and childbirth. Our group of women meets
with her and she tells us how to recognize the plants, how to grow
them and where to sell them. I make some money out of it. I have
had my gift, my knowledge, for many years. On Tuesdays and
Fridays, people come to me to be cured. I know about bad air,
fright, cold and many other visitations. I know how to cure them
with herbs, baths, cleansing and massage.13
Acknowledgement of Cañari traditional medicinal knowledge is an
important part of the agenda of several indigenous organizations.
Cañari healers are called yachakes and may be men or women. There
is an informal hierarchy of yachakes, who interact with one another.
Some of them have apprentices. A common feature is that all
yachakes consider themselves in the service of Pacha Kamak (God).
In order to be effective in their cures they have to be bestowed with
Pacha Kamak’s grace, i.e., have a calling.
José Lema
interviews a Cañar
farmer who wears
the guango (braid)
Knowledge of herbs
and plants for medical
purposes is part of the
Cañari tradition
23
Much of the traditional medicine centres on concepts concerning
loss and gain of energy. Curative powers are invoked from Pacha
Mama (Mother Earth) in the form of herbs and from Mama Killa
(Mother Moon) and Taita Inte (Father Sun) in the form of healing
rays. Healing is practised through massages, immersion in herbal
baths, showering,14 passing guinea pigs over afflicted areas, exposure
to sun or moon, and the drinking of various herbal decoctions.
Healing sessions are often carried out in the house of the yachak,
but also in the few, prestigious houses of healing, jambi wasi.
The headquarters of the Unión Provincial de Comunas y
Cooperativas del Cañar (UPCCC), the most influential indigenous
organization in Cañar, called Nucanchic Huasi, houses a recently
constructed jambi wasi. A woman healer, Mercedes Chuma, attends
patients on a daily basis. Besides serving as a centre for traditional
medicine, UPCCC’s jambi wasi also functions as a place where serious diseases can be identified and patients passed on to modern
health care.15
Any development project intent on interacting with Cañari culture
should be inscribed within the Cañari landscape. To a large extent,
the surrounding landscape conditions thinking and acting within
traditional Cañari culture.
24
14
15
16
17
18
The yachak sprinkles agua ardiente (strong alcohol made from sugarcane), through
his/her lips over the patient.
Interview with Mercedes Chuma.
Mummies were not buried in the ground, but placed in natural cavities. The cult of the
dead had an enormous importance in Andean societies. Corpses, mallquí in Quichua,
were considered to be intermediaries between huacas and the living. Huaca is anything
endowed with spirtual force, like gods and spirits, but also mountains, lagoons and
other powerful places and phenomena. As they were connected with huacas, it was
natural to place the mallquís within the spiritual realm of the mountains (Bernand
(1996), pp. 74-79).
Landivar (1997), pp. 34-54.
A Cañari author, Luis Bolivar Zaruma, seeks the roots for the Cañari tendency to individualize nature and natural phenomena in Quichua, the language spoken by Cañaris.
“In this language, and others spoken on the American continent, the content, the meaning and what is indicated can only be described by using things in the real world.
Occidental theology and philosophy were not assimilated by Cañaris because Quichua
is a concrete language consisting of concrete symbols describing the world and
things; there does not exist a capacity for abstraction” (Bolivar Zaruma (1980), p. 25).
Mountains: Realm of Power
Andean peoples have always looked to the mountains with awe and
veneration. Mummies wrapped in precious clothing may still be
found among Andean peaks, remains of human sacrifices to the
Mountain-Lords.16 Legends are constantly spun of the mountains.
They are said to be inhabited by imaginary creatures, half beasts,
half humans, vengeful and threatening, constantly thirsting for
human blood. The list of such monsters is long and intimidating:
gagones (demon dogs), carbuclos (demon cats), shiros (malevolent
dwarfs hunting for women), cuscungus (birds of prey announcing
death), chuzalongos (blood sucking children), agcha shuas (werewolves), mama huacas (female man chasers) and many more.17
Mountains are often described as individuals, ancient, mighty and
difficult to comprehend.18 Like benevolent parents, they watch over
the tiny hamlets and towns that huddle in their shadows. Mountains
send water to the people, and conceal treasures in their depths. If
sometimes they are benevolent, at other times they are capricious
and dangerous, hurling disasters over defenceless humans in the
form of hurricanes, landslides, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes.
“Urcu signifies mountain, chuncana play and cui comes from take
care of or deliver. Thus, urcu chuncanacui signifies a game of give
and take between the mountains. During nights well lit by the moon,
when yellow lightning appears among the mountain peaks, it is
believed that the mountains are exchanging treasures and animals
between themselves. The mountain Taita Bueran is believed to have
six children, but he is separated from them by his spouse, the mountain Hacron Ventanas; it appears as if those two quarrel quite a lot.
Mountains have water
and conceal treasures
in their depths
25
It is thus that the mountains in general are deeply respected and
much is expected from them. For example, many people are afraid to
approach the mountain Culebrillas with dried or cold meat, because
they say this may raise the Hurricane from the páramo, high moor,
thus not allowing entrance to anyone”.19
High moors are wide plains situated from 3 000 to 4 200 m and covered with a yellowish grass used to feed cattle and sheep. In the
Cañar area, many high moors are common lands, owned and used by
members of communities further down in the valleys.
Culebrillas: Where the Water Is Born
The high moor surrounding the mysterious lagoon of Culebrillas is
jointly owned and used by four communities within the El Tambo
canton. This tranquil lake is situated at 3 880 m, in the shadow of the
impressive Yanaurcu, the Black Mountain.20 It appears to be a barren
land, but several traces of ancient civilizations are located there.
The Ingañan passes close to the lake. This highway was originally
paved and maintained all the way from Cuzco to Quito. Among the
remains of this road, several stones indicate the site of a tambo, a
kind of inn or resting-place for the travellers who passed along the
Ingañan.
South of the lagoon is a flat area with a quarry, called
Labrazhcarrumi by the locals. Labrazhcarrumi consists of some huge
rectangular boulders spread over an area of about 100 km2. The purpose of these stone blocks is unknown. However, people used to
26
19
20
21
Castro Muyancela (1995), pp. 314-15. Manuel Castro Muyancela is the newly elected
mayor of Suscal and an influential indigenous politician at the national level. “The
Hurricane” is the personification of the violent storms that brew high up in the mountains.
Pinos & Rodríguez (1994), p. 1, and Heriberto Rojas (1991), pp. 19-20.
The legend is retold with the help of stories told by Rebeca Pichazaea and Francisco
Chimboroza.
believe that the Incas cut them in order to dam the lagoon. Even if
people lived and worked here 500 years ago, it is now a very desolate
place. A spectacular landscape, inhospitable and mysterious, and
chilled by mountain mists, it is the natural centre of a web of legends, known in innumerable versions by almost any Cañari.
“A soldier married a fair maiden. However, unknown to him, she
had been up in Cullebrillas. An enormous serpent living in the lake
had seen her there. The terrible creature had fallen in love with the
maiden and wanted to keep her to himself. On the wedding day, the
serpent broke into the house where the celebrations took place,
snatched the bride and brought her up to his lair at the bottom of the
lagoon. The infuriated groom armed himself with a spear and an axe
and followed in the tracks of the snake. He found his bride by the
shore of the lagoon. The huge serpent had his coils around her, while
he rested his head on her lap. The bride made a sign to her spouse.
Obeying her, he hid behind a stone while she sang a lullaby to the serpent. When the animal had fallen asleep, the spouse came forth and
plunged his spear into it. The frenzied serpent wriggled and spat
venom, but the valiant soldier cut off its head. In death agony, the serpent left the lakeside. It slithered away to the south, opening up the
earth with its heavy body. Thus the serpent created the course and
meanders of the stream Culebrillas, the stream that feeds the water
of the lagoon into the river of San Antonio. Since that day, the water
of the mountains reaches the entire region of El Tambo. The lady
eventually gave birth to a white child, the son of the serpent. Since
this boy did not belong anywhere, he caused a lot of trouble”.21
Lagoon of
Culebrillas
People used to believe that
rectangular boulders were cut
by the Incas to dam the lagoon
27
28
This legend reflects several popular ideas about the high moor, an
abode of sacha (the unknown, the savage) as opposed to uca (the
familiar, the tangible). The high moor constitutes a twilight zone
between the wild and the domesticated. The water is born there, but
also storms and diseases. The high moor is the realm of children and
women. They are the ones who tend the sheep and collect the grass
found there. Children are also related to the high moor in a symbolic way. Adolescents in particular find themselves in a threshold
between the world of adults and infants. Accordingly, they have
something in common with the high moor, placed as it is between the
inhospitable mountain peaks and the tended fields. Women are also
symbolically connected with the high moor, since they are considered more of a part of nature than men are. This is probably due to
their role as lifebringers and nurturers, something that connects
them with Pacha Mama (Mother Earth).22
The serpent the woman of the legend met in Culebrillas is probably related to the most feared phenomenon in Cañari mythology, the
serpent of the sky – Taita Cuichi (Father Rainbow), harbinger of
both life and destruction. Taita Cuichi lives by lakes. He always has
one foot in the water. When threatened he disappears into the lake,
leaving a column of smoke behind him. The one who breathes in that
smoke will suffer from cuichi japischca (capture of the rainbow), a
deadly disease that must be treated immediately through herbal
potions and curative baths.23
of the
[The real wealth
lagoon is the water]
There are several kinds of rainbows and they cause various diseases. The worst affliction is when Taita Cuichi takes a woman, i.e.
makes her pregnant. The affected woman then suffers intense
headaches, pains in the legs and arms, nausea and stomach-ache.
The woman contaminated by the seed of Taita Cuichi has to eat bitter herbs in order to vomit the uninvited intrusion. Fear of Taita
Cuichi is very strong in certain areas of Cañar. He is often called the
Devil dressed in colours. It has been speculated that the strange perceptions regarding Taita Cuichi are the result of a mixture of old preColumbian myth and more recent facts and life experiences. For
example, the child of Taita Cuichi is always white and this may indicate the unwanted result of a forced relationship with the former
masters of the area, Spanish intruders and/or the owners of the
land.24 However, the serpent of Culebrillas is not only a sinister creature; he is also the guardian of treasures:
They say there is a treasure resting at the bottom of the lagoon.
Heavy beams of pure gold were sunk there by our ancestors, probably as sacrifices to their gods. A few years ago our communities
kept a guard up there [at Culebrillas]. He was well paid, but one
day he disappeared and was never seen again. People assume he
found the treasure, or part of it, and simply ran away with it. He
probably left for the United States or Europe.25
Even if there is a lot of talk about the hidden treasures of the lagoon,
people are well aware that the real wealth of the place is not gold or
silver, but water. Taita Cuichi’s main function is to protect water and
fertility and bestow it on humans. However, every farmer in Cañar
knows that the thorny issue of access to water has to be handled with
care and tact. Anyone who interferes with a water source like
Culebrillas is destined to get into trouble. Taita Cuichi’s legendary
presence can be seen as a warning. Be careful when you deal with
the waters of Cañar. You do not know what hidden powers and buried
conflicts you may uncover.
22
23
24
25
Bernal et al. (1999), pp. 49-51.
Landívar (1997), pp. 37-39 and Einzmann and Almeida (1991), pp. 92-93.
Einzmann and Almeida (1991), pp. 93.
Interview with Manuel Zaruma, of Molino Huayco, who accompanied us to Culebrillas.
29
Culebrillas is one of the main water sources of the Cañari basin. It
is the birth place of the San Antonio River, which eventually joins
with the Cañar River after delivering water to no less than 14 irrigation canals, providing water to 2 639 hectares in the cantons of El
Tambo and Juncal, thereby benefiting 1 100 families.26 The lagoon of
Culebrillas feeds other water systems as well, and the construction
of an efficient dam by the lake would benefit even more people,
bringing a constant flow of water to huge areas of dry land.
Water and Development
30
Agriculture occupies a prominent position in all debates concerning
development policies. Food production is not a simple question of profitability; it is a burning social issue. Although a country may profit from
producing agricultural goods for international markets, this does not necessarily solve problems related to providing food for a starving population.
An efficient agricultural sector that benefits both small and big producers
may facilitate a more just and equal distribution of a nation’s wealth. It
may stem the migratory flow from rural areas and probably raise living
standards, efficiency, freedom of choice and the well-being of a large rural
population.
Compared with many other countries, Ecuador is endowed with a good
share of natural resources, not only precious metals and oil, but also a conducive environment for efficient agricultural production. The country has
benefited from the growth of export markets for products such as bananas,
cocoa, shrimp and other items. This production from the coastal plains has
received support from the nation’s decision-makers. The development and
growth of other coastal products, like rice, maize and soybeans, also benefit from various kinds of state support. In mountain areas, milk production
has been modernized completely while state support has enabled both
local and imported technologies to be purchased.
Nevertheless, most small producers in the Highlands have not been able
to benefit from any investments aimed at increasing production. Food production for national consumption cannot meet demand; in several rural
areas, there has even been a drop in production. In the Cañar area, products such as wheat, which once was a main crop, have lost importance primarily due to state-subsidized imports.
International development agencies, as well as some government institutions and non-governmental organizations (NGOs), have tried to counter this deteriorating situation. Numerous experiments and investigations
have been carried out. Annual reports seem to concur that efficient irrigation is the most critical concern of Andean farmers.27
Irrigation systems have existed in Ecuador since pre-Columbian times.
However, until 1944, irrigation was developed exclusively through private
initiatives. In that year, a National Office for Irrigation (ONR) was founded. In 1966, ONR was replaced by the Ecuadorian Institute for Hydraulic
Resources (INERHI), which plans and builds irrigation projects in addition to monitoring and overseeing the use of water resources.28
Any person familiar with water management at the grass-roots level
knows that huge investments in irrigation inevitably face a wide range of
problems. INERHI-executed projects have often encountered serious problems, mainly owing to a lack of cooperation from farmer communities.
Conflicts have frequently arisen among beneficiaries. Lack of organization
among irrigation users has inhibited efficient water management. Bad
maintenance has destroyed valuable infrastructure. The so-called tertiary
systems, small canals reaching the farmers’ plots, have often not been built,
since such work requires efficient organization among beneficiaries.29
Water management calls for discipline, solidarity and social skills.
Cement and good engineering are not enough to create functional irrigation systems. Cooperation among all the parties involved is essential.
Openness and social skills are probably the most decisive factors in makeing irrigation systems effective.
26
27
28
29
DHV Consultants (1995), p. 165.
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), pp. 224-27. Thirty-one per cent of the cultivable land is
irrigated. Thirty per cent of this water is used by more than 70% of the agriculturists,
while 70% is used by big plantations (Cisneros et al. (1999), p. 5).
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), p. 228.
Ibid., p. 270. In 1994, INERHI was replaced by the National Council for Hydraulic
Resources (CNRH) (Cisneros et al.) (1999), p. 5. The Ecuadorian State has initiated a
process of institutional transformation, delegating several formerly state-controlled
activities to municipalities, NGOs, civil society and the private sector. INERHI (CNRH)
has on several occasions been mentioned as one of the organizations that ought to be
removed from state control (IFAD (1995), p. 20).
31
[
]
There was a lack of communication between planners and future beneficiaries
Cañari Development Initiatives
The Cañari people are not without a voice. Decades of political
struggle have given rise to several organizations that are firmly rooted within their communities. On the agenda of all these organizations is the search for institutions and agencies willing to provide
financing and assistance to rural development projects. During the
1980s, plans to support agricultural projects were developed
between grass-roots organizations and a regional development
agency, the Centre for Economic Re-Conversion of Azuay, Cañar and
Morona Santiago (CREA).
In 1980, just after the reintroduction of a democratic government,30 rural development issues were again addressed and the
Ecuadorian State declared it was prepared to: “...apply an integrated
concept while attending to problems related to the peasantry, proposing dynamic participation from peasants in order to transcend
simple, technical, production-oriented solutions”.31
CREA was established in 1958 in response to a crisis that hit the
production of exclusive, so-called Panama straw hats, which was
concentrated in the province of Cañar.32 A sudden drop in demand
affected 100 000 people engaged in this artisan activity. CREA’s main
function is to participate in the planning of regional development
projects in the provinces of Cañar, Azuay and Morona Santiago. It
coordinates the development initiatives of national and international agencies operating in the area. CREA also executes rural projects
in its own right or in direct association with other entities (both private and public).33
30
31
32
33
From 1963 to 1965, Ecuador was governed by the military, and from 1966 to 1968, the
country had an acting president, who had not been elected through general elections.
In 1968, José Maria Velasco Ibarra was elected president for the fifth time. In 1972, he
was ousted from power by the military, which ruled the country until 1979.
Government resolution quoted in de Janvry and Glikman (1991), p. 209.
These hats originated in Ecuador, but got their name because they became popular
among the builders of the Panama Canal. From 1898, US troops fighting in tropical
wars were equipped with Ecuadorian Panama-hats (50 000 hats were issued to soldiers who fought in the Caribbean and The Philippines). The industry peaked in 1946
when 5 million hats were exported, constituting 20% of Ecuador’s annual export earnings. Then the fashion gradually changed, leading to severe crisis by the end of the
1950s (Perrottet (1994), pp. 131-33).
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), pp. 283-85.
33
In 1982, CREA approached the Ecuadorian government with a proposal for future cooperation with IFAD within the Cañar area.34 In
1987, an IFAD mission identified the province of Cañar as a priority
area for implementing a possible rural development programme with
IFAD funding. The process of elaboration was concluded in 1990 by
an IFAD appraisal mission, which presented a report that formed the
basis for a loan agreement signed by IFAD and the Ecuadorian
Government. In 1992, the Government of The Netherlands agreed to
cofinance the project. Despite this long and complicated process,
the CARC project ran into serious problems even before it got started. The project was supposed to address a wide range of issues related to agricultural production.
“The principal objective of the project is a significant improvement of the real wages of the small agriculturists of the upper basin
of the Cañar River through the introduction of irrigation and adequate technology for a productive development of their farms”.35
Accordingly, several components were integrated from the start:
credit, technical assistance, infrastructure, organization of agriculturists and productive activities of women. However, it was repeatedly stressed that the core of the programme would be irrigation.
“This component [the construction and rehabilitation of irrigation
systems] is the fundamental activity above which all other elements
of the project are constructed. In fact, it is only after incorporating
irrigation in adequate measures with a significant geographical reach
that it will be possible to introduce new technologies and necessary
practices to raise agricultural production for the beneficiaries”.36
The thorny issue of irrigation eventually caused feelings to run
high within the proposed project area. The storm centre was
Culebrillas, mystical abode of Taita Cuichi, birthplace of most of the
Cañari waters.
34
34
35
36
37
38
39
Pinos and Rodríguez (1994), p. 21.
IFAD (1990), p. 63.
Ibid., p. 69.
Quoted in Villarroel, G. (1992).
IFAD (1990), pp. 69-70.
Villarroel, G. (1992). A parish is the administrative unit below a province. Suscal is now
a province. Before El Tambo and Suscal were cantonized, the province of Cañar included 14 parishes. Now, 12 parishes operate under Cañar, while the provinces of El Tambo
and Suscal are situated like islands within the much bigger province of Cañar. The
province mayors are elected in general elections, while the political deputies that govern the parishes are appointed by the Government.
The Initial Proposal
In 1992, it was stated that “one of the most important works
around which the development project for Cañari peasants revolves
is the construction of Culebrillas dam”.37 The IFAD appraisal mission in 1990 described the damming up of Culebrillas in the following way:
“The sub-system of Culebrillas implies the construction of a 14 m
high and 72 m long earthen dike that will create a dam above the
mentioned lagoon and endow its outlet (San Antonio River) with a
capacity of 10.5 cubic hectometres. These regulatory works will, on
the one hand, permit a maximal flow of 680 litres/second to the subsystem of El Tambo, which furthermore will be significantly amplified (991 additional ha) through the prolongation with 4 km of the
principal canal (Canal Coronel); on the other hand, additional water
will be directed towards a new principal canal...permitting the irrigation of around 777 ha within the areas of Juncal, Suscal and
Chontamarca”.38
Two years later, it was thought that: “It [Culebrillas system]
will…permit the storage of 7 million cubic metres of winter water
that could be used during summer to irrigate 2 700 ha of land
through a network of improved canals and the construction of a new
one towards the parish of Suscal”.39
Preliminary studies of this dam and its connected networks of
canals were made by CREA, the Inter-American Institute for
Cooperation on Agriculture (IICA), INERHI and Latinoconsult, an
Argentine consultancy firm. CREA would be responsible for the irrigation component of the CARC project, while INERHI would provide
technical assistance and be in charge of all construction works related to irrigation.
35
issue
[The thorny
of irrigation]
It was an ambitious project. However, it was too much of a blueprint solution. The project was based on concrete. All thinking
was concerned with cement. They planned building the dam and
the canals, forgetting the fact that irrigation is not only a question
of providing more water. It is essentially a question of providing
good management. You have to organize the use of the water
upstream and all the way down. An issue involving human relations. The water associations did already exist, but they were not
involved in the planning process. Therefore, the conflict did not
come as a surprise.40
Four different irrigation systems were planned. However, it was the
plans for Culebrillas that raised fierce opposition, probably because
14 existing canals were going to be affected. A new canal meant that
all 14 canals were going to be reorganized. Current canal users felt
excluded from the entire planning process. They feared that traditional access to older irrigation systems was severely threatened,
and were convinced they would lose water through project innovations. The situation was worsened by plans to distribute water from
Culebrillas to the area of Suscal. Even though the proposed dam in
Culebrillas had more than enough capacity to feed both irrigation
systems, users of the existing canals calculated that the new systems
would make everything worse. Since the new systems would be much
bigger than the older ones, the original users of the Culebrilla water
assumed that meant less water for everyone. Didn't the introduction
of a new canal to Suscal run the risk that El Tambo would lose much
of its water?
36
The project CARC had decided to make the dam. Nothing else; it
was news to us. Suddenly the fact was there. A certain engineer
Carran explained that the water was going to Suscal. All water
was going to be assembled in one canal, the Canal Coronel. We
thought that meant no water to El Tambo. There was talk of rebellion, of suing CARC and all agencies involved.41
40
41
42
43
44
Interview with Rudolf Mulder, Dutch Co-Director to CARC.
Interview with Julián Guaman, president of the water committee of the Canal CachiBanco Romerino Pillocapata.
León (1993), pp. 1-3.
Interview with Daniel Rodríguez, former mayor of El Tambo.
Interview with Abelina Morocho Pinguil. She presently serves as mayor in Suscal, but
was born in El Tambo, where she still works on her father’s land. She married in Suscal,
where she also has land. She is evidently familiar with irrigation problems in both areas.
The desperate rumour was disseminated throughout the parish of
El Tambo: They are going to take the water from us. The development agencies tried their best to assure the people of El Tambo that
the opposite was true: Every one was going to benefit from a dam in
Culebrillas. But to no avail. It was too late. The irrigation users in El
Tambo had not been sufficiently involved in the planning process
and it was now too late to do anything about it. The conflict appeared
to be inevitable.42
There were a lot of expectations. So much money had not been
invested in the area before. Quality of life and production would
be better. However, when the problems were identified, there was a
lack of communication between planners and future beneficiaries. Few organizations and communities were consulted here in
El Tambo and they were not at all involved in the planning
process. The technicians worked for themselves and they were not
guided by an integrated vision. When people heard that the dam
of Culebrillas was going to feed a new canal besides the already
existing 14 ones, they panicked, fearing they were going to lose
their water.43
I do not understand why they did not talk more to us, after all it
was we who used the water. We, and our fathers, knew everything
about problems related to irrigation systems. It is our life. Every
day we work with the water. Of course we could have contributed
a lot of experience and knowledge. In such sensitive matters one
has to start with a dialogue. However, traditionally, things have
always been done above our heads.44
[They are going tothetakewater from us]
37
A report from a technical adviser from the University of Cuenca
stressed the apparent lack of socio-economic insights in the original
proposal:
“In the information [presented to the coordinator of the Technical
Commission of the Faculty of Engineering at the University of
Cuenca], there is no analysis of social and ethnic conflicts between
communities and parishes within the project area. In our opinion,
these problems must be highlighted, considering existing
antecedents and the various and contradictory reactions of communities and social sectors when confronted with the project plans. …
Within the contemporary framework of development efforts incorporating cultural and ecological dimensions, a comprehensive
investigation of such matters is indispensable; conflicts are due to
arise from such an approach; it is inevitable, but it is necessary. It
is possible that the omission [of such a thorough study of social
realities] is a manifestation of the general flavour of the documents
we have been presented with, namely a sociological treatment of the
area as if it is homogenous…; the existing, diversified socio-economic reality is not captured from the angle of the population’s view
of territorial occupation. Furthermore, we want to draw attention to
the need to engage, in a direct and innovative way, the project’s
future beneficiaries in discussions and decision-making, abandoning paternalistic and vertical interventions common among public
and private entities”. 45
38
Conflict!
Both the local and national press covered the build-up of various
conflicts triggered by the planned damming up of Culebrillas. “You
might call it the Lagoon of Discord, because it has lately caused so
much polemics”.46 Already in 1989, when the plans were still under
elaboration, opinions about the dam in Culebrillas started to be
voiced through the press. After the presentation of the IFAD appraisal mission report in 1990, the debate got heated, giving rise to oratorical expositions and insults from supporters and opponents:
45
46
Alemida Durán (1990).
Villarroel G. (1992).
“We [the Cañaris] were the first to fight the forces of Topa
Yupanqui. We made war against the invading forces of Huáscar and
Atahualpa. We were fooled by the Spaniards’ false tongues. We hid
the treasures and gathered our people on the frozen high moors,
where we have lived since those days, excluded from everything,
without the possibilities to create our own future – the imperative
voice of Inti came to me and my mind grew heavy. This is the moment
to put ourselves together and bring forth our people. It is necessary
to make a decision and support this action [the damming of
Culebrillas], because it is about having enough water for irrigation
the year round, thus our culivations will not die.” 47
“The attitudes assumed by the representatives of anti-culture in
order to prove themselves to be executives, active people, workers,
force them to use sophisms and lies. They are actively trying to
destroy the prehistory and history of Ecuador.... As in a state of
trance they want to realize their plans, ignoring the opposition and
disapproval of the country and the scientific and edifying world of
culture. On the dam they want to construct in Culebrillas, one detail
is missing, the plaque that says: This is the work of ignorant people
and illiterates.” 48
In the beginning, opposition to the project was restricted to people
wishing to protect the archaeological vestiges and natural beauty of
Culebrillas. These defenders of Culebrillas were mainly ‘outsiders’
from the traditional Cañari point of view, since most of them were
townspeople from the provincial capital Azogues and the big town of
Cuenca, farther to the south.
A dam would raise the water level and flood the Labrazhcarrumi,
the remains of the Inca quarry found there. The technicians suggested that the stones could be removed to another place, like Abu
Simbel in Egypt. Nevertheless, that solution did not satisfy the
40
47
48
49
50
Paulina Ati, quoted by Torres (1990). The people mentioned in the quotation are Incas
who headed conquering troops from the south before the arrival of the Spanish. Inti is
the sun god.
Egues (1990).
Interview with Father Víctor Vásquez, parish priest in Suscal.
León (1993), p. 3.
opponents, who stressed that the entire environment surrounding
the lake was unique and any encroachment would be disastrous.
These arguments were received with anger and desperation by the
intended beneficiaries of the improved irrigation systems:
It was a tragedy. They could have removed the stones. I don’t
believe they are as valuable as they say. In any case they have not
done anything to protect them after all those tensions, all these
efforts to block the project. They wronged us badly. It was a big loss
for us and we still suffer from it. That water could have helped
hundreds of families. The drought still plagues us down here.49
While visiting Culebrillas a Cañari shepherd, dressed in sheepskin
chaps and carrying a whip with a long wooden handle, gave an original argument for building the dam:
41
I believe the stones quarried in Labrazhcarrumi were used to dam
Culebrillas. Our grandfathers knew how to do such things. Build
dams and construct irrigation canals and they did it to benefit
people like us, the peasants. They cared for their people. If we
build a dam up here now, it will surely become an archaeological
site in the future. Just like this Labrazhcarrumi. So why not do it?
The people in the future will say that we cared for one another,
building dams and canals.
The conflict hardened when the archaeologists and their supporters
presented Culebrillas plans to various leaders of the province of El
Tambo.50 By 1992, the majority of the inhabitants of the parish of El
Tambo had been mobilized against the project and opposition started to become more militant than before. On 27 November 1992, an
official delegation including the project director, the governor of
Cañar, the mayor of Azogues and representatives of IFAD and CREA
went up to Culebrillas to discuss the dam construction. Suddenly
The natural beauty
of Culebrillas
they were surrounded by 400 persons; at the end of four hours, the
state officials were forced to sign a document promising not to build
the dam. However, on their way down to El Tambo, the delegation was
stopped by another group of armed farmers, this time from Suscal.
The same scene was repeated, and the Suscal farmers forced the delegation to sign a document promising that the dam would be built.51
After they had achieved what they wanted and the delegation had
left, the two groups ran into one another. During the late afternoon,
armed encounters between the farmers of El Tambo and Suscal
occurred close to the lagoon. As a consequence of these skirmishes
various people were wounded.52
42
It was a big delegation. No less than 15 cars took us to Culebrillas.
Up there, we were received by Antonio Carillo, the archaeologist
from Cuenca, and two of his colleagues from Quito. Together with
him were representatives of the communes who control the land
up there. People from Sumi Corral, within the commune of Sigsig.
Just after the discussions begun, hundreds of people descended
from the mountains. Most of them were on horseback and several
carried sticks and machetes. Some were even armed with shotguns. It was like a western movie. Their leaders carried with them
a document and after long and violent discussions they forced us
to sign it. They spread it out on the front of one of the cars. The
violent arguing went on from ten o’clock in the morning until
four in the afternoon. All the time we were frightened, surrounded as we were by armed and angry men. They tried to beat up
one of the technicians who looked like Luis Chimbo. Luis is an
indigenous person from El Tambo that worked as a driver for us.
led to encounters
[Water
between farmers of
]
El Tambo and Suscal
Remigio Padrón,
present director of
the CARC project
Several of the project’s opponents considered him to be a traitor
and tried to get hold of him. Shaken by this very unpleasant experience we drove down to El Tambo. The two archaeologists from
Quito, who belonged to the opposing group, followed us down to
the Inter-American highway. There we were intercepted by a large
group of people from Suscal. They were very upset and immediately attacked the archaeologists. A huge tumult developed while
we tried to defend the poor guys. After things had calmed down a
bit, we were forced to drive to Suscal, where another document
was signed. This time stating that the dam had to be built. Not
until midnight were we able to return to Cañar.53
These incidents were the culmination of tensions that had been
building for a long time. People working for the project finally decided to meet with several of El Tambo’s most extreme opponents to the
plans to dam Culebrillas.
The situation was very tense. Opponents kidnapped technicians
and kept them locked up for several days. We received constant
threats. In those days there were not more than two or three policemen in the entire area. When things got worse, the Government
offered to bring in troops. However, we did not want to provoke
any violent confrontations. Instead we initiated dialogues with the
people in El Tambo. The most dramatic incident occurred when we
united people in a place called La Granja de El Tambo. Things
started to look really bad when we had made a short break in the
discussions. Fifteen of us were taking coffee in a small house when
it suddenly was surrounded by hundreds of people. Some of them
entered and started to beat us up. Someone recognized me and
pushed me against a wall, saying: We won’t hurt you if you keep
quiet and don’t move. One of the technicians dashed out of the
house and a group of angry attackers followed him to the car and
started to beat the vehicle with sticks and machetes while he was sitting inside. Worse was the situation for Luis Chimbo: he was beaten brutally and everything would have ended very badly indeed if
Jenny Campoverde had not been there.54
51
52
53
54
El País (1992) and El Espectador (1992).
El Espectador (1992).
Interview with Remigio Padrón, present director of the CARC project.
Ibid.
43
Jenny Campoverde is a nurse who works for the CARC project in
Suscal. A gentle woman, she now says she does not understand how
she was able to act in the way she did back then:
It was a group of at least 100 persons, headed by a fat, indigenous
man armed with a machete. I did not know who he was. They
started to scream at us. We were drinking coffee and were totally
unprepared. The angry crowd rushed into the house, smashing
chairs and tables, taking off the feet of the furniture and clubbing
the men with them. It was awful. The house was crowded and outside people were pressing to get in. They shouted: We want the head
of Luis Chimbo. One technician, Jacinto Caguana, was several
times hit with the flat sides of machetes. They dragged Luis Chimbo
outside. It was awful. Nasty. People were like paralysed by fear.
Several of the men fled, one woman fainted. Then I saw they had
carried with them a tank of gasoline. They were going to set Luis
Chimbo on fire! It was incomprehensible and I became infuriated.
I placed myself in front of them and shouted: How is it possible that
you come here in such a state of mind? Get out of here! They
became bewildered when they saw my strong reaction and most of
them calmed themselves down immediately. They listened to me.
Everything was very strange. For me it was some kind of illumination. Both their and my reactions were a surprise to me and it
is still hard for me to believe what happened that night.55
44
These dramatic incidents indicate the extremely complicated social
realities characterizing the Cañari area at the time. In order to
understand and judge the achievements of the CARC project, it is
important to comprehend some elements of the intricate web of
social interaction within the Cañar valley, including such thorny
issues as local patriotism, ownership structures, racism, religious
conflicts and political populism.
Trial and error has taught us, often in a painful way, that development work in general and water management in particular, is
a complicated social activity. You have to be very sensitive to the
demands and way of being of the people you work with. Be careful, listen and learn.56
55
56
Interview with Jenny Campoverde.
Interview with Pablo Arevalo, technician working with PROTOS (an NGO associated
with the CARC project).
[
]
Listen and learn from water users
Local Patriotism
46
Some of the conflicts were probably related to El Tambo’s struggle
for recognition as a province. In those days, El Tambo was a
parish within the province of Cañar. The politicians of El Tambo
tried to identify issues powerful enough to unite the townspeople.
The town of El Tambo has for a long time been considered different from the rest of the Cañari area. The traditional explanation
is that most people from El Tambo were workers from the railroads. Many railroad workers came from the northernmost part
of Ecuador from the town of Tulcan. When construction was finished, several of them settled in El Tambo, which was founded
because of the railroad. Since that day, these people and their
descendants have been considered outsiders.57
Father Mello Storoni, the Catholic parish priest of El Tambo, was
born in a small Italian village and spent 15 years in The Congo before
coming to Ecuador. Nevertheless, he is a local patriot who fiercely
defends what he perceives to be the best interests of his parishioners. He admits that several people consider him to be very conflictive and confesses he has never avoided expressing his opinions.
In a way you might say that I am fascinated by the struggle. I was
opposed to the dam, mainly because of the threat to the archaeological sites up there. I confided in Antonio Carillo, an able archaeologist in Cuenca, who represented the national patrimony.
Furthermore, the entire project was not well installed among the
inhabitants of this area. Some of the water was going to be taken
to the lower parts of Suscal. It is true they have less water down
there, but on the other hand there is more rain and humidity than
Father Mello Storoni, the Catholic
parish priest of El Tambo
here in El Tambo. They do not depend on irrigation as much as
we do. They usually have one more harvest there.... People in El
Tambo have always considered themselves to be ignored by the
politicians of Cañar. For political reasons the well-being of the
inhabitants of Cañar has been the priority for local authorities.
The Culebrillas project was planned at the same time as El Tambo
sought its cantonization. There was constant conflict between the
two communities. People of El Tambo erected barricades across
the Inter-American highway, blocking the passage of people from
Cañar. Sometimes people were fighting by the barricades.
Youngsters from Cañar came to tear down the barricades, insulting the people from El Tambo. During one of these incidents, a
man from El Tambo got upset, went for his shotgun, and killed a
man from Cañar.58
Conflicts between isolated towns and villages in the Andes are commonplace in several areas. This local patriotism seems to affect mestizos as well as indigenous people.59
“The village [and the rural setting] is like a mountain cloister
where man’s activities are circumscribed, and where his actions are
limited by invisible frontiers that are never far away. He is surrounded by mountains. The day ends early and darkness can be eternal. How can anyone transcend such villages, closed to communication and encompassing sight, the body and also the spirit? Mountain
ranges close the roads, rivers have no bridges, and man is bound to
a land that absorbs all his activities and kills his desire for liberation.
Every village is like a cave, where hunger is imprisoned and man has
to accept his destiny.... Thus the mountain lives within him”.60
57
58
59
60
Interview with Remigio Padrón. The railroad was finished around 1935. Tambo is a
Quichua word that originally designated the points of stopover along the Incan highway system (Bark and Maier (1973), p. 142).
Interview with Father Mello Storoni.
As in most Latin American countries cohabited by different groups, denominations
related to race and ethnicity are not rigid, varying from area to area. In the Cañar area
the term mestizo is used for both white people and persons of mixed blood. Most
indigenous people autodefine themselves as Cañaris, though they also consider themselves to be indigenous. In the Ecuadorian context, an indigenous person is generally
someone living in an indigenous community, speaking Quichua (or another indigenous
language) alongside or instead of Spanish, and wearing a particular kind of dress (on
ethnic definitions and racism in Ecuador, see Cervone and Rivera (1999)). In the Cañar
area the most distinguished dress features of the Cañaris, apart from ponchos and
knee-length shirts above lots of petticoats, are hand-made, white felt hats and the guangos, long, single braids worn by both men and women.
Uriel García (1986), p. 143.
47
This is probably an authentic description of the Cañari area some
fifty years ago:
The landowners lived in Cuenca, far from here. It was a long trip
and most of them stayed up here from June to December. Their
families left in October because the children had to go to school. El
Tambo was reached by railroad, but not until the 1930s. Until 1970,
there were no vehicles around here. There were no tractors, and
still aren’t any. Until the 1950s, the produce was taken down to the
coast on the backs of mules. The indigenous people were dependent
on the plantations and most stayed on them all their lives.61
48
Things have changed drastically during the last decade and people
now have closer contacts with the surrounding world. However, the
former isolation may explain in part why Andean communities tend
to be quite circumscribed and distrustful towards their neighbours.
A member of a community tends to perceive him/herself as an integrated part of a group of people. The geographic reasons for such a
perception are easily understood. However, there are also historical
reasons that date far back to pre-Columbian times.
Under the Inca rulers, the land was tended by ayllus (domestic
units) dominated by hatun-runa (the head of the family), who in his
turn was controlled by the curacas, who kept a watchful eye on all
work done. Every year the curacas redistributed the land according
to the number of active people in each household. Members of the
ayllus were rigorously controlled and every rural inhabitant was part
of a complicated administrative system. Different social categories
were under constant and strict control within the entire Inca
empire. Such a system created close ties between farmers and the
land they tended. When the Spanish arrived, they thus found an
elaborate system of tribute and work-discipline to exploit. One might
say that the tight control the Incas had over rural people was preserved under colonial, and even republican, rule, surviving until a
few decades ago.62
CARC project was being
[Thediscussed
while El Tambo was
]
struggling for recognition as a province
Feelings of local patriotism have often found their way into criticism of the CARC project:
It has always been the same. The normal thing would have been
to let El Tambo participate in project formulation. And...why did
they not let people from El Tambo enter as administrators and
technicians? I am not insinuating that the people of Cuenca and
Cañar, who now are directing everything, are doing a bad job. It
is possible that they are more able than most from El Tambo.
However, it is my firm belief that people from El Tambo ought to
work with such an important project. It affects all of us and we
can participate with our own people, our own technicians.
Nevertheless, the municipality of El Tambo was not allowed to
participate in initial project formulation, nor in the reformulation. All was guided by the idiosyncrasy of outsiders. Now everything is transferred to NGOs. Nevertheless, it is the same personnel
as before. Where are the representatives from El Tambo? They are
nowhere to be found. There is still not one single technician from
El Tambo in the project.63
Suspicions against development agents coming from the outside
were voiced in an ever stronger way by certain members of the El
Tambo community. A white landowner (cattle farmer), who wanted
to remain anonymous told us:
Several of these so-called NGOs, and even some religious organizations, are composed of outsiders with an agenda of their own, totally alien to law abiding citizens in this area. Several of these so-called
aid organizations serve as introducers of Communist ideologies.
Manifestations and protests are staged as community actions. People
participate not so much as individuals as members of certain groups.
Such behaviour is an excellent breeding ground for ill feelings
towards those community members who work with people perceived
as outsiders and intruders. This may have been the reason for the
furious hatred directed against the project driver, Luis Chimbo,
whose life had been threatened on various occasions.
61
62
63
Interview with Fernando Pozo Illingworth, landowner (20 hectares).
Bernand (1996), pp. 67-68.
Interview with Daniel Rodríguez, former mayor of El Tambo. Several technicians from
the CARC project, stating that the project reformulation involved a long and complicated process met the mayor’s criticism. All organizations existing in El Tambo were
invited to participate. CARC personnel state that several people from El Tambo who initially opposed the project were unwilling to participate. Furthermore, they explained
that since the project is stressing rural development, popular participation is more visible and active in the countryside surrounding the town of El Tambo.
49
When better communications were established between project
staff and their opponents, all hostility towards Luis Chimbo suddenly seemed to disappear. He once again became fully accepted by most
people from El Tambo and was able to live as an integrated member
of his community.
The Huasipungo System
Land and water are extremely important in the Cañar valley.
People have fought and died for them. A few decades ago, many
Cañaris were deprived of free access to land and water. In the last
twenty years, many indigenous peoples have experienced stages of
social development that took centuries in Europe. People born into
serfdom and illiteracy have obtained both land and self-confidence.
Through an often-painful process, they have learned that control
over land and water is often synonymous with power.
50
Lack of irrigation remains the main problem around here. As
long as the plans for the damming of Culebrillas and the new
canals are not realized, people will suffer. There is no water here,
the area is practically a desert and things are getting worse.
Culebrillas is the only existing irrigation source for us. The roots
to the problems are to be found among the constant controversies
we are involved in with our comrades of El Tambo. They say they
want to protect the archaeological sites up there. However, that is
not the main problem. The fact is that the land belongs to those living up there. We cannot enter. We cannot use what belongs to
them. True, the water belongs to the Ecuadorian State, not to any
individuals. Still, the land where the water comes from belongs to
them. What can we do? Down here, we suffer during dry times;
they have water all the time. That is the problem. They have water.
64
65
66
Interview with Isidor Pichisaca, village teacher in the Collahuco sector in Suscal.
Interview with Pablo Arevalo.
Bernand (1996), pp. 94-96.
We have nothing. The one who owns something is afraid of losing
it. The one who has nothing is a beggar, and a beggar is not liked
by anyone. He is a threat.64
All the canals originating from Culebrillas run down to El Tambo. For
them, it means that life is coming down to their fields. Anyone who
touches the water supplies is naturally perceived as a threat.65
The conflicts surrounding CARC fit into the framework of age-old
traditions and ever-present ethnic tensions, seemingly eternal problems closely linked to land and water ownership. Before the Spanish
conquest, there was no notion of private land ownership. Under the
Incas, all land theoretically belonged to the sun and was taken care
of by his son, the Inca. However, powerful nobles controlled the
Inca’s vast empire. The wealth of these curacas was not measured in
land but in terms of numbers of houses, wives, servants, belongings
and animals.66
The Spanish conquerors adapted the indigenous system to their
own particular needs. Accordingly the naborías, former members of
Inca-controlled ayllus, were forced to work for Spanish masters
instead. This particular kind of work was carried out as mita, meaning that tributes were paid through work for the creditor. Indigenous
people were legally free vassals under the Spanish Crown.
Nevertheless, when provincial towns were founded, surrounding
land gained value and was eventually divided into plots that were
controlled by clerics and Spanish officials. By acquiring different
goods and services offered by town-dwellers, the indigenous people
gradually became indebted. Debts were paid in the form of mita, and
credit tended to be constructed in such a way that the debtor was
snared for life. Soon most indigenous people had lost their land to
creditors and turned into serfs (huasipungeros).
Land and water
origin of ever present
ethnic tensions
51
Huasipungero is a Quichua word combining huasi (house) and
pungo (door), signifying the plot of land a plantation worker is
granted by a landowner.67 Depending on the period in question, a
huasipungero worked for his patron three to four days per week.
This gave him access to a plot of land (of varying size depending on
the area, but seldom more extensive than three hectares) and rights
to water, firewood and grassland. All members of the
huasipungero’s family had to work for the patron.68 Besides these
rights and obligations, a huasipungero was granted minimum
wages during the time he worked for his patron (in 1962, between
30 and 90 sucres per month).69
Huasipungeros were not the only workers who depended on plantations. There were also yanaperos, arrimados, allegados and apegados. Such agriculturists owned their own land; however, inherited
debts from their forefathers meant they had to work a certain number of days per week for the landowners. There used to be more
arrimados working on a plantation than huasipungeros. 70
52
Land Reforms
The secluded and limiting world of huge plantations and
huasipungo serfdom was finally broken up through the land reforms
of 1964 and 1973. The prevailing situation in the Cañar area might
still be described as a transition period. Accordingly, expectations
and criticism directed towards CARC are partially a result of hopes
and expectations nurtured by social forces released through these
reforms.
It was another world. Doña Florencia Astudillo was carried
around like a Madonna in her sedan chair. In front of her, people
went down on their knees. Our fathers told us to remove our hats
and bow our heads when landowners and stewards passed by.
However, times were changing. They said Doña Florencia went to
Rome; when she returned, she had repented and was more religious than before. Things changed. People were allowed to go to
67
68
69
70
Our superficial description of the extremely complicated evolution of Ecuadorian landowning systems is based on Moreno Yánez (1995), pp. 341-96.
Ferrín S. (1982), pp. 161-69.
In 1960, 30 sucres were equal to about USD 15.
Ferrín S. (1982), p. 168.
school. Plots of land were given away. Before she died, she gave
away all her land to a group of nuns who turned it over to the
Church and it was consequently passed on to an entity called
Asistencia Social. That did not change much. The land was still in
the hands of the stewards and their families. We continued to live
like some kind of slaves. However, in 1964, the land was broken up
and divided. The huasipungo was not allowed any more. An NGO
called Misión Andina turned up to give instruction and assistance to former plantation workers. The military came to distribute the land to the huasipungeros. The power structure started to
change. However, there were many problems: land was unevenly
divided; the old stewards got the best plots; many arrimados continued to be just as poor and marginalized as before. However, the
Church now supported us. It had changed and was now on our
side; at least some of the priests joined us in our struggle for land
and justice. Monsignor Leonidas Proaño, the one they called the
Bishop of the Indians, organized a radio station in Riobamba and
spread a message called Theology of Liberation. For many years,
we remained in that kind of mysticism. Many priests were with
us. The most radical was Father Rafael Gonzalez of Biblián.
However, there were several others. Here in Cañar, one of the most
helpful was a nun, Sister Genoveva Rodríguez. They were all good
people. In those days, we did not have much knowledge. We were
not powerful enough. We needed help. This was the beginning of it
all. We learned. We got organized. Cañar became a nucleus of the
movement. Our patience was finishing. We started to occupy
plantations. Here in Cañar there was not so much violence, but
there was confrontation in other places. We the young people of
Land reforms
broke up plantations and
huasipungo serfdom
53
Cañar participated. We moved around at night, and helped our
brothers in other places. In Chimborazo, there were clashes. At
least three people were killed by bullets. One of them, Lázaro
Condo, became one of our heroes. We learned to organize ourselves, both locally and at the national level. I remember how the
leaders of the society looked down upon us. They shouted at us: if
you want to be professionals change your clothes! Civilize yourselves! Much remains to be done. Further training is very important to us. They say, ‘the indians are getting politicized’; I say, ‘we
are becoming visible’.71
During the period 1948-1960, Ecuador experienced unprecedented
political stability. Export-oriented politics stimulated the economy,
work was created along the coast and more and more people moved
there. Ecuador’s population increased by 45%; along the coast, population grew by 100%. However, at the beginning of the 1960s, banana
prices fell drastically. The country was hit by a profound economic
crisis and strikes multiplied. The disturbances were suppressed by
the military, which seized power in 1963.72
The military government’s economic policy was influenced by the
Alliance for Progress set up during the Kennedy years. This involved
advocating internal economic development, rather than catering to
the interests of influential agro-exporters along the coast and big
landowners in the Sierra. Before these two groups were able to
strengthen opposition to the military government and oust it from
power in 1966, the military launched the land reform of 1964, starting the process that would eventually reshape the entire social and
political landscape of Cañar.
54
71
72
73
Interview with Washo Camas.
Holmberg (1998), p. 12.
Rossing (1996), pp. 98-99, and Bernal et al. (1999), pp. 70-71.
The immediate effects of land reform were limited. Primarily
state-owned lands were delivered, and the existing ownership structures were not immediately affected. Distributed plots were often
very small and most were soon to be subdivided through sales and
inheritance. In spite of the new cultivation triggered by the reform,
cultivated areas dwindled at the national level because many big
landowners, out of fear of expropriation, limited the size of their
holdings through inheritance divisions and/or diverted activities
from agriculture to cattle breeding.73
Up from the Middle Ages
The land reforms triggered off social mobilization that soon went
beyond merely reflecting land demands. An agenda of self-realization
and search for power was gradually developed among the indigenous
population of Cañar and some wanted CARC to be a part of this
development.
Not all indigenous people are poor. Not all whites, or mestizos,
making a living as farmers have extensive lands. Nevertheless, the
Ecuadorian land issue has always been intimately connected to the
plight of indigenous populations. It is still common to put an equal
sign between ‘rural poor’ and ‘indigenous peoples’. An ethnic struggle for self-realization and influence was soon linked to land reform.
The Catholic Church was at the forefront of this development.
Father Víctor Vásquez, born in the town of Cañar and now parish
priest in Suscal, explains:
[The land reforms triggered
social mobilization]
55
We priests who are born here are familiar with the idiosyncrasies
of our people. We have struggled to realize what started with the
land reform. We seek a non-political position. However, we are on
the side of our parishioners, the poor. The vision of this upcoming
millennium will be to consider God as protector of the world. Such
was the function of the Inca divinity, Pasha Cam. We now realize
that the gospel is boundless; it fits into our cultural tradition as
well. We are optimists; it is our mission to bring hope and knowledge to our people. The Church was once the most formidable
landowner. The sins of the Church weighed heavily upon the clergy and we embraced with passion the message of the second
Vatican Council. We supported Medellín, Puebla and Santo
Domingo, realizing that the Church had been instrumental in
maintaining the shameful slavery and illiteracy that for centuries have existed in the Highlands. We accepted the message of
the Theology of Liberation, and thus supported the land reform.
We were active in the formation of the indigenous organizations,
helping them obtain a voice in society.74
56
Together with the Andean Mission, an NGO founded to support the
land reforms through social mobilization, the Catholic Church started a massive education campaign in order to promote the establishment of effective indigenous organizations.
Getting Organized
The Cañar area presents a bewildering flora of various organizations. CARC cooperates with several pressure groups and cooperatives that essentially represent the interests of small farmers and/or
indigenous groups. The most important are ASOAC, AINCA, AIEC
and UPCCC. A short description of these organizations might shed
some light on how organizations developed in the valley after the
1964 land reform.
74
75
Interview with Father Víctor Vásquez.
Interview with Remegio Hurtado, member of ASOAC’s council.
ASOAC (Asociación de Organizaciones Agrícolas de Cañar) was
founded in 1970 in Honorato Vásquez, a village just outside Cañar.
The organization was established in order to organize land distribution and improve production resources for four different communities. ASOAC worked in the fields of irrigation-canal recovery, health
issues, adaptation of new agricultural techniques, storage, etc. Over
the years, ASOAC has developed contacts with several NGOs and
other development agencies. It is now organizing no less than 48
communities and is associated with an organization operating at the
national level, Federación Nacional de Organizaciones y
Organismos Campesinos Indígenas y Negros de Ecuador
(FENOCIN). Together with a few similar organizations, ASOAC constitutes the southern branch of FENOCIN. ASOAC is not exclusively
an indigenous organization and wanted to be associated with
FENOCIN because this organization is open to all and particularly
promotes cooperation with black people along the northern coast.
We want to be able to train our own technicians. Be helpful in creating a local fund of knowledge here in Cañar. Our cooperation
with CARC has been excellent, very open and based on mutual
respect. Together with CARC, we have developed plastic greenhouses and have been trained in how to manage them. The project has also helped us concerning institutional strengthening and
how to develop social-administrative skills. We have also worked
together in the rebuilding of irrigation canals. It is the policy of
ASOAC to respect all our sister organizations and not discriminate against anybody.75
Plastic greenhouses
have been built
jointly with the CARC project
57
AINCA (Asociación Indígena Cañar Ayllú) was founded in Suscal
in 1982. The need for the organization arose from the realization that
the communities of Suscal could not communicate their needs to the
authorities.
It is a generalized view that among the people in Suscal, the lower
parts are somewhat behind compared with people living in the
‘high sector’. They often call us sachos, ‘from the back of beyond’,
or mucos.76 When we did not have our own organization, it was
not always easy to be noticed at local and national levels. We try
to attract cooperation and assistance from both government and
NGOs. We have fought for electricity and water, but new problems
occur all the time. In the past, alcoholism was a very serious problem around here; now our children's situation worries us. The
recent migrations put a lot of stress on families, particularly
women and children.77
58
AIEC (Asociación de Indígenas Evangélicos de Cañar) is the organization of Lutheran indigenous people in the Cañar area. Norwegian
missionaries brought the Lutheran faith to Cañar in 1970. They
established a health clinic and soon attracted a following. The hardworking Lutherans, with their strict views on the bad influence of
alcohol and the importance of high morals, impressed several
Cañaris. However, the conflicts with the Catholic Church hierarchy
and several neighbours were fierce at first.
We were often accused of being the puppets of foreign masters,
obeying them in everything, denying our roots and isolating us
from our neighbours. The indigenous movement here in Cañar
was supported by the Catholic Church and religion was often
mixed with their message. The present Catholic priest of El Tambo,
Mello Storoni, is a good person and we have no problems with
him. It is true that some of the missionaries were somewhat harsh
76
77
78
79
Mucos are the bermuda-length trousers that form part of Andean traditional dress.
Interview with Abelina Morocho, former mayor of Suscal.
Interview with Pastor Gabriel Pichazaca of the Lutheran Church in El Tambo.
Interview with Reinaldo Tenezaca, agricultural engineer working with AIEC.
on what they considered idolatry. However, nowadays respect for
our own customs and a rehabilitation of our own culture goes
hand in hand with our Church as well. The message has to be
within the culture of the people.78
AIEC supports a school with 286 pupils from 22 different communities in the 6 to 20-year age group. Education is bilingual and the
pupils get a lot of agricultural practice.
We try to spread our teaching to the communities. Influencing
agricultural practices. Children receive a chicken that has to be
reared in their homes. We have plastic greenhouses on the school
grounds and plan to establish an experimental farm for integrated agricultural production. We use the pupils as extention agents.
We have established good cooperation with CARC, working hand
in hand. In our opinion, the CARC technicians adopted quite traditional training methods at first: too much theory, too much
blackboard. However, they are improving and we now receive
very good training from them. Seven of our people are working
with them and joint programmes are being multiplied.79
Before touching upon the origin and growth of UPCCC, the biggest
indigenous organization in the basin and the one that stresses ethnic identity more than any other, it is worthwhile discussing the
interplay of ethnicity, racism and politics in Ecuador.
supports teaching
[The CARC project
with agricultural practice]
59
The ‘Indian Question’ and the Rise of the
Confederation of the Indigenous
Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE)
During several periods in the 20th century, Ecuadorian scientists
speculated about differences among the country’s ethnic groups. It
was mainly an exercise carried out by scientists who defined others
using yardsticks fabricated in line with white supremacy. It was thus
established that the Afro-Americans along the coast were endowed
with a virile, but rebellious nature; in comparison with these children of nature, the Indians of the Highlands were characterized as
docile, either lacking energy or endowed with a kind of dull resistance. Several pseudo-scientific explanations were given for this perceived state of affairs. As late as the 1940s, several physical anthropologists assumed that Indian docility had something to do with corporal hair growth. As a rule, Caucasian males had more hair than
Indians and thus, according to these scholars, were more virile and
active. Based on these hairy arguments, one scientist even described
the Indians as belonging to a racial type he characterized as infantilfeminoide.80
Other theories blamed deficient nutrition as a reason for Indian
docility, while a few scientists sought the reasons in socio-economic
factors and ruthless suppression. One of the main reasons behind the
debate was the intention of liberal politicians to transform the
Highlands into a more-efficient food producer and turn Indians into
consumers of industrial products.81
60
80
81
Alejandro Lipschütz (1941), quoted in Clark (1999), p.118. Another important exponent
of these theories was Antonio Santiana.
Clark (1999), pp. 112-26.
[
]
Facing the future
The land reforms of 1964 and 1973 were carried out against the
backdrop of complaints from influential landowners. Several opponents to the reforms argued that alleged inertia and backwardness
of the indigenous populations would eventually lead to a complete
breakdown of Ecuadorian agricultural production.82 However, in
those days, the arguments regarding Indians docility seemed to have
been forgotten and had been replaced among certain influential
groups by feelings of insecurity and fear.
Through the reform programmes, more indigenous populations
than ever before were reached by progressive forces. Despite the
presence and efforts of several NGOs, the Government and different
political parties, the Catholic Church proved to possess the most
effective way of reaching and helping its indigenous parishioners. In
1969, the Latin American Bishops met in Medellín in Colombia and
denounced the living conditions of poor people on the continent. In
accordance with these church policies, radical clerics met with
peasant leaders in Tepeyac, Chimborazo, in 1972, where they founded an organization called Ecuador Runacunapac Richarimui
(ECUARUNARI).83 The name means awakening of the Ecuadorian
Indians,84 thus reflecting in a certain sense the racist theories of the
1940s, namely that Indians were immersed in lethargy.
ECUARUNARI leaders declared: “Richarimui signifies a new awakening, the awakening of the Ecuadorian Indian to an existence that
once was and a reality that implies equal rights and obligations for
all Ecuadorians”.85
62
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
Clark (1999), pp. 112-26.
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 73.
Zamosc (1994), p. 47.
Quoted in Pallares Ayala (1999), p. 167.
Ibid., pp. 167-68.
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 74. The constitutional text on Derechos Colectivos is reproduced in Freire Heredia and Usca (2000), pp. 247-49.
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 74.
Indian revitalisation meant a search for ethnic characteristics in
order to use them in a new kind of self-expression: “We have been
marginalized because we were told that we were not able to analyse
the country’s problems. Our culture is older [than this nation]. We
have preserved our traditions. Our marginalization is the reason why
national problems have not been solved to date. We have our own
way of being, our own cultural and organizational ways".86
ECUARUNARI became instrumental in the carrying out of bilingual programmes introduced by the State during the 1980s.
Furthermore, the organization influenced the content and wording
of new constitutional texts in 1998. An entirely new chapter was
included in Ecuador’s Constitution, the collective rights, whose first
section established the rights of indigenous peoples and blacks, or
Afro-Ecuadorians.87 In 1987, ECUARUNARI entered into an agreement with CONFENIAE, the organization of the Amazon Indians,
thus establishing a new organization, the CONAIE.88
our own way of being, our
[Weownhavecultural
and organizational ways]
63
UPCCC, CARC and Ethnic Politics in Cañar
64
CARC started in 1992, the same year Latin America recalled the
arrival of the European conquerors and the 500 tumultuous years
that followed. Indigenous groups all over Latin America raised their
voices in protest against 500 years of suppression and demanded
change. The majority of the project’s future beneficiaries characterized themselves as Indians and the turbulent, national events mentioned naturally had repercussions in the Cañar area as well. As it
turned out, Cañar even became the focal point of one of the most violent ethnic conflicts of the last decade.
From its start, CARC had close ties with UPCCC, the biggest and
most influential indigenous organization in the area. The organization was founded in 1970 in order to voice Cañari indigenous interests and was supported at the time by progressive Catholics. It has a
council headed by a president, elected for two years by representatives of organizations from eight different parishes. UPCCC is affiliated with CONAIE.
In my opinion, [UPCCC’s] relation with CARC has been a rather
disappointing experience. I must say that a lot of good work has
been achieved, particularly in the lowlands. However, we had
very high hopes. We thought CARC could be instrumental in more
thorough change. Previously agencies had very limited scope; we
thought that if UPCCC and CARC could present a more complete
vision, a lot could have been achieved. The other organizations
have more limited goals and many work within frameworks set
by their religious convictions. The goal of UPCCC has always been
to overcome both the economic and social crises of this area.
Before 1994, UPCCC was an organization with a lot of potential.
The idea of the CARC project was
to improve conditions for
the indigenous populations
particularly through
extensive irrigation work
However, when the new headquarters (Nucanchic Huasi) was
burned down, a great part of our social base was destroyed as well.
CARC did not cooperate with us in the way we hoped for. They
hired people from outside, engaged several NGOs, but did not consider us potential partners. After all, it was UPCCC that came with
the original proposal for a development project like CARC.89
UPCCC signed the agreement with the Ministry of Social Welfare.
We were supposed to be co-executors of the CARC project. We were
even told that ‘it is your project’. The idea was to improve conditions for the indigenous population, particularly through extensive irrigation work. The dam of Culebrillas would be the hub of
activities. Unfortunately, misguided politics destroyed those
intentions and things went sour. In the middle of everything came
the burning down of Nucanchic Huasi.90
By the beginning of the 1990s, UPCCC had entered a dynamic
period. The Church had given the organization a former hospital
in Cañar and helped the organization through several other
actions. Among other things, the clergy was helpful in establishing
an agricultural college for indigenous youth in 1985. The new
headquarters was provided with a health clinic, a store for basicnecessity goods, a distributor of propane gas, a lumberyard, a
carpenter’s workshop, and another workshop for handicrafts. A
library was built and the place contained several halls for education, archives and administrative offices. We had one truck and
two pick-ups. Several development programmes were carried out
in the surrounding countryside – training in integrated farming,
the formation of women groups, rehabilitation of irrigation systems, etc. UPCCC received support from several NGOs. A
Norwegian organization, Ayuda Popular Noruega (APN), was
especially generous in its support. The German Agency for
Technical Cooperation (GTZ) supported our bilingual education
programmes.91
89
90
91
Interview with José María Guamán, vice-president of UPCCC.
Interview with Jorge Lema, ex-president of UPCCC (1994-1996).
Interview with Inocencio Lojo Alulema.
65
The apparent success of UPCCC aroused fears and suspicion
among some of the mestizo and white people living in Cañar:
With the land reform, various groups were formed in order to
obtain land. Both mestizos and the indigenous population
formed such groups and some were mixed. Like the indigenous
population, many mestizos were also poor and landless.
However, when the land had been distributed, the mestizos organizations ceased to exist, but the indigenous organizations continued to be active, often with church help. Thus the indigenous people continued to attract outside support. In the meantime, the
mestizos complained: ‘Only the indigenous people are given support, while no one cares for us’, and there were also allegations of
financial mis-management. One UPCCC leader was accused of
selling a car that had been given as support to the organization.
Town life was gradually changing. Indigenous communities
moved in; mestizos moved out. The privileged position of whites
and mestizos was changing for the worse. Business was bad and
competition from UPCCCs stores and businesses was beginning to
be felt. At the same time, a new indigenous generation was radicalized by all the talk of 500 years of oppression and similar agitation. Townspeople started to talk about how ‘the Indians want to
turn themselves into landowners’.92
66
Tensions grew gradually and exploded in June 1994, when nationwide protests were organized against the introduction of new land
laws. These laws, which were supported by big landowners, were said
to render agriculture more effective. However, several pro-indigenous groups considered the laws to be directed against smallholders.
Agitation spread throughout the country. In Cañar, UPCCC members
marched through the town to demonstrate their displeasure with the
laws. In the aftermath of these protests, a group of indigenous youngsters behaved threateningly towards some shopkeepers. On the
evening of 14 June, a mob attacked UPCCC’s headquarters. They surrounded the place and pillaged it. A fire started inside the building
and a storage for propane gas blew up.
92
93
Interview with Romegio Padrón.
Interview with Inocencio Lojo Alulema.
A group of people tried to hinder others from entering the marketplace. ‘This is our living’ the salespeople told them and this
angered the group. Some even went around town smashing windows and threatening people. A mob soon surrounded our headquarters. They destroyed everything and plundered the store and
the storerooms. Then the fire started. People panicked. People
trapped inside were afraid of running out into the furious mob,
so several jumped from the wall at the back. It is very high and
several were badly hurt; one died. The fire brigade stood watching
while the place burned down; the library, offices, the store, everything went up in flames. Not until the rest of the town was threatened did the firemen try to put out the flames. It was a terrible
blow to all of us, both mestizos and indigenous people.93
The ethnic and political violence that exploded in 1994 was indeed a
terrible blow to the development process in the Cañar valley. The
CARC project had already lived through the agonizing experience of
protests against Culebrillas dam; now UPCCC, which was considered
by many to be an important partner in CARC’s development plans,
was partly paralysed by inner strife and the object of ethnic and
political rage.
The Baseline Study
The situation was difficult in 1994, and the project's future looked
very bleak. The complicated political and social situation in the area
was blocking several project components. Worse was the opposition
to the damming of Culebrillas, which meant that the original plan
had to be reworked and changed. The Dutch Government and IFAD
In 1994 the ethnic and political
violence was a terrible blow
to the CARC project
67
faced the difficult choice of withdrawing their support altogether, or
attempting to overcome the conflicts and difficulties. After intense
discussions with the Government, local organizations and CARC
staff, it was decided to reformulate and reactivate the project. While
work continued on some of the components, greater effort was made
to orient the project towards a more participatory approach. The
main instruments and starting points for this process were a reformulation mission and a thorough baseline study.
The reformulation mission visited Cañar in October 1994 and presented its report the following year. Meanwhile, a Dutch consultancy
group hired by IFAD was busy carrying out a thorough baseline study
together with CARC staff.
It was a good and complicated exercise. One hundred and twenty
in-depth field interviews were carried out. We succeeded in getting
the Ecuadorians to look at the problems from a new angle. Without
the baseline study, we would not have been able to redirect the
project. Everyone was engaged. We all learned something and
were proud of the result. The entire process took two years. One
year in the field, then we processed the data and went back again.
We returned to the interviewees four to five times. It is always sensitive and difficult to raise certain questions, for example those
connected with financial statements and labour division between
husband and wife. We all had a hate-love relation with that study.
However, in the end, we all thought in a new way.94
68
A particularly useful revelation from the study was the realization of how important the different height levels were for all agriculture in the area. All activities are intimately connected to the
height above sea level they are carried out at. Crops, cattle-breeding and agricultural techniques have to be adapted to this height.95
94
95
Interview with Rudolf Mulder.
Ibid.
The intensive work of the baseline study revealed the shortcomings
of the initial plans, particularly as regards participation issues. It was
now established that communities had to be central to any activity.
The project had to:
• address the communities daily and most urgent problems;
• study community methods for dealing with problems; and
• gain community trust and confidence.
It was important to find out what the beneficiaries needed and to
attempt to meet these needs, and above all to organize the beneficiaries.
When it came to irrigation, activities had to focus on the water
associations. The essential message was that it is useless to build
anything before local organizations are well established. Every association must be able to manage the rehabilitation and maintenance
of the canals by themselves.
Concerning technical assistance to agriculture, the initial focus on
crops was deemed unnecessary, particularly since wheat only represents 1% of production in the area. Additional activities generate profits, such as breeding of guinea pigs, plastic-sheeted greenhouses for
growing new crops, fish dams, etc. Most credit had been granted to
cattle. In the light of this, the project had to concentrate more on combining credit with technical assistance for grassland improvement.
What the baseline study proved was the great importance of irrigation, of water. It had been correct to assume from the start that
water was essential for everything. If a farmer obtained water in a
visible and sustainable form through irrigation or as drinking water,
it was a sign of progress and meant that his/her production and welfare would increase. However, the failure of the initial plans was to
ignore the importance of local knowledge and local cooperation:
A more-participatory approach
was the starting point of
CARC’s second phase
69
There is no guarantee that an irrigation project will bring more
water. That is mostly a question of good or bad management.
Water use has to be organized in every detail, all along the canals,
upstream and down. It is a question of social relationships, and
how these relations work can only be apprehended in the field.96
Cholera and Drinking Water
70
The conflicts underlined the importance of direct interaction with
the people living in the area. While working with the baseline study,
trying to learn more about the lives, agricultural activities and personal priorities of beneficiaries, the CARC technicians gradually
came closer to the inhabitants of the valley. Beneficiary participation is necessary when trying to find solutions to concrete problems
in particular settings. By paying keen attention to what people say
and want, a community’s real leaders can be identified. Finding an
entry point to village communities does not always mean working
with existing organizations, but finding out who the villagers listen
to and respect.
Nevertheless, age-old conflicts, fears and suspicions were present
in many communities, and the latest social turbulence within the
basin of the Cañar river did not facilitate the difficult task of CARC
staff. A human tragedy unexpectedly turned out to be an important
ally. The spectre of cholera brought people together and made them
realize that they needed outsider support. The need for clean drinking water, which could not be obtained without the joint effort of
beneficiaries and CARC staff, succeeded in breaking down barriers
and forcing people closer together.
A drinking water component was planned from the start of the
CARC project, but its importance was not fully realized until the outbreak of a cholera epidemic. The first drinking water system was completed in March 1993 and soon proved to be an efficient way to enter
the communities. Most technicians agree that without this component, it would have taken much longer to enlist local cooperation.97
The epidemic started in 1992 and gained pace in 1993. Remote
indigenous communities were particularly hit. The probable
explanation lies within traditional funeral customs. People gather for the vigils and share drinks from the same cup. The corpse is
not buried until the third day; after the burial, the personal
belongings of the dead person are washed. The deceased person’s
clothes are likely to be washed in a watercourse used by several
people for washing and even drinking.98
The hardest hit village was Pacay, where 20 families were contaminated and seven persons died in quick succession. They
refused to take any medicine, stating that it was God’s will if they
survived or not. They had all gone to a person in Dos Bocas called
the Blonde Child (Niño Suco), who said he was the messenger of
God and ordered them to drink sanctified water. It was very hard
to convince them. The first case of cholera was in La Pasta: a
worker returning home from the coast died soon after. More than
1 000 people became contaminated and 30 died. People started
panicking, believing all food and drink to be contaminated.
Several of the affected patients died from dehydration after three
days. People were afraid of touching the sick and the corpses.
However, the emergency alerted the people and the Government
as well. All agencies took part in prevention work and we soon
reached most communities. The cholera epidemic proved an efficient point of entry into several communities.99
96
97
98
99
Ibíd.
Ibíd.
Interview with Jenny Campoverde.
Ibid. The Niño Suco mentioned in the quotation is a legendary healer, living in an isolated jungle area in the Cañari lowlands. His real name is Juan José Carpio and he
is now 21 years old, having obtained the gift of curing people at the age of four. The
Niño Suco is often accused of hindering development agencies from carrying out
their work. Notwithstanding, few development workers have actually met him.
When we visited him in the strangely well-organized model village where he lives, he
denied hindering any development work: “I am an uneducated man with a grace that
causes people to come to me. They come out of their own free will. I do not call upon
them, or tell them what to do. They listen to me. I bless them and give them advice.
The only advice I give is that they have to live and respect life. Most people don’t live.
They fool themselves and search for life. That’s their tragedy; they don’t realize they
are alive. If people are sick I tell them to go to the hospital. I would very much like to
have contact with development agencies. We need zinc roofs here in the village and
someone can maybe help us find the sheeting we need”. Juan José, who is white, is
believed to be the son of a priest. He appears quite inoffensive and is highly respected by his villagers, who consider him a source of pride and respect. He is, as a matter of fact, a typical example of an unexpected entry point into a community.
71
Providing drinking water systems is often a complicated task and
viable solutions vary from community to community. The Cañar valley provides a rather spectacular example of problem solving in close
cooperation with local people. The community of Cachi Pillcopata is
located just outside El Tambo in one of the most conflict-sensitive
and complicated areas covered by CARC’s activities. Land is very fertile and is probably the only reason people have risked making their
living here. The earth is constantly moving. The deep soil clings to a
mountainside, which is not steep but has a slope that prevents the
earth from being firmly rooted to the rocky surface. Accordingly, the
soil constantly slides down. However, the movement is very slight
and almost impossible to notice.
72
Drinking water arrived not so long after the land reform. Already
in 1963, La Misión Andina helped us by providing water to almost
all the families. They had to use rubber tubes because of terrain
difficulties. Nevertheless, everything was done in vain. The tubes
burst and cracked because of earth movements. In one year, the
entire system was destroyed.100
CARC technicians considered Cachi Pillcopata a challenge. There
was conflict in the community. It controls one of the irrigation canals
from Culebrillas, the Cachi-Banco Romerino Pillcopata, and an
important canal providing water to the fields of 80 families. The
water association was split because of differing opinions concerning
the damming of Culebrillas. It was difficult to get the members to
work together in maintaining the irrigation system.
However, when discussions concerning the drinking water system
emerged, people were willing to cooperate. Together with CARC’s
technicians, community members came up with an ingenious solution to their problems. Thin water tubes were erected above the
The “electrical water” is a
drinking water system
invented by the community
of Cachi Pillcopata
ground on poles that looked like old-style telephone poles. The tubes
were attached to the poles with springs and the poles could be displaced if the earth moved too much in an area. Poles and springs
meant the entire tubing system was flexible and thus no longer
threatened by earth movement. Members of the drinking water committee constantly monitor tubes, poles and springs and the system
has now been functioning for various years. The tubes provide drinking water to 64 families and the so-called “electrical water” 101 is a
source of local pride. The system has even been the object of a television programme distributed worldwide by the BBC.102
The success of the “electrical water” apparently brought the villagers closer together. Even though Culebrillas was never dammed,
villagers now work very effectively in restoring and maintaining their
irrigation system. People declare both the drinking water systems
and the canal as a wonder, which is largely thanks to the efforts of
CARC staff.
In cooperation with PROTOS, a Belgian NGO, CARC is presently
providing drinking water to communities throughout the Cañar area.
So far, an appropriate network of drinking water has been completed and several new pipelines are in preparation in order to set up a
drinking water system for the whole Cañar area. A drinking water
system involves capturing the water, often high up in the mountains,
and bringing it down through tubing to tanks and chlorification stations. From there, it is distributed to households. Users have established their own committees to maintain the system and have organized the daily chlorification task.
The construction of the systems is not the most difficult and most
important part of it all. User organization is the most essential
component in everything we do.103
100
101
102
103
Interview with Julián Guaman.
The tubes and poles of the water system resemble the poles and wires of a rural
electrical system.
The evident pride in the system has led to the fact that it is somewhat difficult to find
a coherent version of who really came up with the idea. Some peasants proudly state
that it was their own idea, while some technicians say they got the idea from a
Peruvian brochure.
Interview with Pablo Arevalo.
73
[
]
The Cañari women work with spade and hoe
Credit
Traditionally, IFAD projects have a strong credit component.
However, it soon became evident that the credit component was oversized and that the institution in charge, the Banco Nacional de
Fomento (BNF), was inefficient.
BNF’s procedures were very slow. Loan negotiations and delivery
took two to three months. Credit provision cannot afford such slowness. Farmers need their credit at the right time. They depend on
the sowing and harvesting cycles. Interest was market-related,
which became obvious when it sky-rocketed during the war with
Peru in 1995. Since borrowers knew that BNF was a state entity,
some of them assumed, or pretended to assume, that the money
was given away by the project. There were also incidents of corruption, the bad customs of authorities.104
In 1997, 40% of the loans had not been duly recovered. Through very
intensive and effective work, the project managed to recover 99% of
the loans by November 1998. A new agreement was signed with the
cooperative Jardín Azuayo.
The credit component is presently functioning efficiently, with
80% of the loans going to cattle-breeding, and the rest to small
industries and handicrafts. The procedures take 15 days and loans
are paid in due time. 105
Gender and Migration
The Cañari rural women tend to be overloaded with work. The
women have traditionally been constrained to take part in all agricultural activities and not only those lying within the traditional
female sphere, i.e. the house and immediate surroundings. It is traditional women’s work to tend to health and food preparation for
their families, as well as take care of children, poultry and guinea
pigs.106 There are few traditional taboos concerning women’s work
and they often work alongside the men. Also within the mingas, the
communal work groups mending roads and reconstructing canals,
104
105
106
Interview with Juan Segarra, employee at the cooperative Jardín Azuayo.
Interview with Rebecca Pichazaea, who almost singlehandedly recovered the
lapsed loans.
Guinea pigs have always been a very important source of meat for Andean people.
Domestication of guinea pigs appears to have already begun by 5000 B.C. In
English, a guinea pig is a truly misnamed animal, being neither a pig nor from
Guinea. Europeans probably assumed that the animal came from Africa (Guinea),
where they ended up through the slave trade (Morales (1994), p. 130).
75
women work with spade and hoe in addition to carrying heavy loads
of stone and gravel. The only definitely male occupation is ploughing
the fields.
By the time of the Spanish conquest, there were more women than
men in the Cañari area, which is still the case today. For the last hundred years, many Cañari men have been seasonal workers in the
coastal areas. In order to gain extra income, they work on plantations, shrimp farms or in the building industry. They often stay away
from home for an average of two weeks to a month, and contracts
generally run for two weeks at a time. Work is available on banana
plantations, shrimp farms and in building all year around, while the
sugarcane zafra lasts for six months.107
During the last five years, the Cañar area has witnessed an
unprecedented mass exodus to the United States, Canada, Spain and
Italy. Most Ecuadorian emigrants work in agriculture, in restaurants,
or for various cleaning companies. In the United States, they are also
employed as industrial workers. An estimated 660 000 Ecuadorians
live in North America, and 40 000 in Europe.108 Since most migration
is illegal, it is difficult to obtain exact figures. However, an estimated 120 000 Ecuadorians in the 18-35 year-old age group migrated to
the United States and Europe in 1999. During the first half of 2000,
the figure had increased to 400 000.109
76
Nowadays, all young people go to the United States. There is no
hope around here. In my district, 15 to 20 youngsters leave every
year. With these bad governments, nothing will change. One of my
sons is working as a waiter in the United States; two other sons are
harvesting grapes in Spain. They have been away for five years
and their families are still here.110
107
108
109
110
111
112
DHV Consultants (1995), pp. 52-54.
Freire and Usca (2000), pp. 440-41.
El Mercurio, 18 July 2000.
Interview with Luis Octavio Lema, El Tormento.
Interview with Manuel Zaruma, Molino Huayco.
Interview with a women’s group in El Tambo.
I am also planning to leave for the United States. It will cost me
USD 8 000. The coyotes live close by. I know them. They will take
me on boat to Guatemala. From there, I have to go on foot over the
border. They cooperate with other coyotes. Since there is no complete security, you pay half the sum here and half if you manage
to reach the other side. I have family over there. They will take
care of me. However, there is always a risk of getting caught and
then you lose your money. Many people are indebted around
here solely because of such unsuccessful attempts.111
Migration is particularly difficult for us women. Around here,
more than half of the male population has left us during the last
three years. They have gone to Spain, or to the United States.
Nowadays, many go to Spain. All you need to get in is the passport, USD 2 000 and a hotel reservation. It is expensive, but more
secure than leaving for the United States. The men leave and then
we don’t see them anymore. It is not easy to return when you are
illegal. Some send money but not many. Most prefer to bring the
money back with them if they ever return. Worse, some of them
have left us with debts. It costs USD 10 000 to leave and many of
them work for two years just to be able to pay back their debts.
That is if they haven’t left the payment to us. It is not easy for
them to adapt themselves when they come home again. We
women have to do all the work at home and in the fields. Some of
us have even learned how to plough. We help one another. CARC
is helping us with technical assistance. We have started to grow
potatoes with their help and guinea-pig breeding has proved to be
a good business.112
Women’s group
de El Tambo
77
78
Although Cañari women often become organized and are forced to
take decisions on their own, there is still the tradition of the man
being responsible for all major decisions concerning his family. It is
thus still commonplace for a woman to have to wait for her husband’s
opinion even if he might be far away in the United States or Europe.
While Ecuadorian women are free to sign all papers, both signatures
of a married couple are sometimes needed on certain documents and
this may cause problems for women with absent husbands. Further,
fewer women than men know how to read and write. This has led
CARC to introduce an adult literacy course as part of its efforts to get
women organized.
As in most rural development programmes, it soon became apparent that gender issues had to be addressed on a broad basis. Since
women participate in all agricultural activities, it was inefficient for
male technicians to manage men exclusively, and women to manage
women. Nonetheless, given traditional restrictions applied to women,
the formation of women's groups could on occasion be recommended.
CARC gender staff have constantly been searching for an efficient
way to deal with this thorny issue. They have been involved in an
ongoing learning process. A major achievement is that all internal
training is now indiscriminately directed towards all staff, men and
women alike.
Rural development projects often have to address gender problems
on two fronts: among beneficiaries and also among technical personnel. CARC has been no exception:
I came to CARC during a decisive period of my life. I have four
children and have been working for ten years as a college teacher,
dealing with learning systems. I have also worked 12 years as a
sociologist specializing in rural development. Before I came to
CARC, I had done a historical study of indigenous cosmovisions
The CARC project constantly
searchs for efficient ways
to deal with gender issues
and the people of Azuay. I came to the project during its worst
period. No one liked the organization and I came as an unwanted person. I came from the outside, from Cuenca. I was a sociologist and a woman supposed to promote gender issues within a
male-dominated, technically biased project. The social component was marginalized and the least popular of them all. It was
difficult to address the gender issue, but I got valuable help from
a Dutch gender expert. We were able to widen the gender aspect,
moving away from an area that related women exclusively to
handicrafts and tailoring. We addressed problems such as illiteracy, monolingualism, migration, etc. We tried to introduce
women to all activities. Eighty five per cent of the people that
came to the training sessions were women; yet women worked
with women, and men with men. We studied all the components
from a gender aspect and finally succeeded in convincing people
that all activities had to be united under a common vision.113
Politics and Renovation
While the CARC project continued its assiduous effort of reformation, complicated manoeuvres shook Ecuador. The worst political
crisis came in 1996, when Abdalá Bucaram won the elections with a
populist programme that immediately capsized. The country suffered enormous increases in the prices of electricity, gas, telecommunications and transport. The year 1997 opened with a general
strike and Bucaram fled to Panama, followed by a hailstorm of corruption and mismanagement accusations.114
By August 1996, CARC investments were coming to a halt and the
project experienced a tumultuous period of almost unchecked politicization. In January 1997, a process of non-renovation of 75% of the
technicians began, while all activities were suspended for two
months in connection with Bucaram’s downfall. However, the project
started up activities again in March 1997, this time with 50% indigenous personnel, proof of the more-direct participation of farmer
organizations in project execution.115
113
114
115
Interiew with María Solís.
Holmberg (1998), pp. 16-18.
CARC (1998), p. 3.
79
So far, the project has survived the comings and goings of five presidents and ten ministers at the national level, as well as seven project directors. Two factors appear to have ensured this survival:
• a nucleus of dedicated and efficient local technicians, and
• the continuous presence of Dutch technicians.
The Farmer Coordinator
The violent conflicts regarding the damming of Culebrillas, the
complicated relationship with UPCCC and other organizations, the
reformulation of the entire project and a constant barrage of
rumours and accusations – all these factors forced CARC to undertake a meaningful dialogue with the area’s most important farmer
organizations.
80
The main criticism of the project was that it did not fulfil its mission because of political conflicts. Furthermore, some technicians
did not show any interest in working directly with the communities. I am from the parish of Zhud and a member of UPCCC. I was
chosen by the UPCCC general assembly and accepted as coordinator by AINCA, AIEC, UCOIT, ASOAC and AICT. Through dialogue and debates, we succeeded in reaching total consensus
about the future direction of CARC. Fifty people, technicians and
farmer representatives, participated in the initial workshop and
the final document was signed by the presidents of each organization and the CARC director.116
Through this consensus and the integration of indigenous technicians, the project was ready to launch the reformulated programme,
which was firmly based on the baseline study. The project finally
touched ground and activities were more focused in the following
years, as well as being more accepted by the Cañari population.
116
117
118
Interview with Fray Idolgo Gliuicota Quishy.
Interview with Manuel Espíritu Quishpe, representative of the Asociación de trabajadores autónomos indígenas de Zhud (ATAIZ).
Interview with Rudolf Mulder.
Irrigation
The Culebrillas initiative was definitely shelved, which was a great
disappointment to many Cañaris:
First, I would like to express my gratitude for everything my
organization and I have received from CARC. The training has
been magnificent. I have not studied, but now I know about pesticides, how to take care of my animals, both large and small. I am
able to apply everything I have learned. I am very happy with my
guinea-pig breeding. We have our handicraft workshop, the store,
the drinking water and many other services offered by the project.
However, we have not been able to get everything we wanted. Time
has been short and I am sorry for that. Worst of all was that we
could not get the irrigation. I know this was due to forces outside
the project’s control. I am so sorry for that, because our agriculture will not progress, in a real, profound sense, without water.
Lack of water castigates us. All project staff have done their best. I
know that. Nevertheless, ...we had hoped for the water. 117
I am not so sure anymore. I fought for the Culebrillas project, but
it was wrong from the start. The conditions were not there. We
learned the importance of participation. It is possible that we
achieved more, as everything turned out, maybe more than we
could have gained with Culebrillas.118
The dam was not built in Culebrillas, but irrigation remained the
cornerstone of the project. Several canals have been rehabilitated
and a new one, Chontamarca, was constructed. Huge reservoirs have
been built and the smaller canals in fields and pastures have become
more effective. Sprinkling systems have also been introduced.
Indigenous people in Zhud
Through the integration of indigenous
technicians, the CARC project has received
the support of the Cañari population
81
[
]
Irrigation is the cornerstone of the CARC project
How does an irrigation system work? What does it look like? All
systems are different. The canals run across mountainsides, through
thick forests, over lush meadows, along dusty roads. They follow different courses, combining engineering skills with natural peculiarities. Walking along an irrigation canal makes you aware of the
human endeavour involved in its construction and use. It becomes
clear that irrigation is far from being a purely technical activity concerned with height of fall, water flow per second, filtration, etc. The
people who use the water must share it in a just way, they must care
for the water, protect their canal, and they must do it together.
High up, close to the lagoon, there is the dead part of the canal of
Chuichun, reconstructed and dressed by a minga consisting of 80
people and 15 horses. The upper part of the canal is characterized as
dead because there are no irrigation users up there. A canal is alive
only if it is used. Three hundred metres of the Chuichun are going to
be dressed with cement under the leadership of a ‘master’, who is
elected by a water association. In this particular case, the original
‘master’ had problems cooperating with the mingas working underneath him and the association eventually sacked him.
CARC is financing the material and technical assistance, while
the association provides the work. The procedure is always the
same: the association presents a proposal, the CARC engineer investigates the terrain and calculates the work that has to be done and
discusses this with the association. A financial plan is agreed upon
and the final design is established. Finally, the association is socialized, i.e. an agreement is prepared by CARC and the association.
The association proceeds to elect a ‘master’, preferably a member of
A canal is alive
only if it is used
83
84
the community, who proposes how material will be obtained and the
work organized. The engineer authorizes the management, the
agreement is signed and CARC deposits the money into the association’s account.
When the building site is approached, there is a dirt road opened
up across the mountainside to allow gravel and sand trucks to come
as close as possible to the dead canal. It is very misty and, after driving along the difficult road, one is confronted with a scene of Biblical
proportions. In the mist, a long row of people is entering a dense forest along a narrow path. Women, in the majority, and girls and boys
are carrying heavy loads of wet cement and gravel in huge bundles.
Another group, also mostly women, is filling the bundles from a
huge pile of gravel and a smaller one of cement. The people are carrying their loads along the narrow, slippery path to the work place
at 1 500 m. They come from two communities and eight different sectors. They work for a few days until another group replaces them.
Anyone who does not come to the minga must hire another worker
or pay a penalty, fixed by the association.
The path is very narrow and slippery along the canal. The distant
murmur of an invisible river cutting through the forest far down
below, is heard constantly, boulders and roots are encountered
along the path, making the progress of the cement bearers even
more cumbersome. The colourful skirts of the women are barely visible in the humid haze. No one is talking, all are concentrated on
their task, walking fast, but carefully checking where they put their
feet. They reach the work place, where the ‘master’, the president
and the secretary of the association and other carriers are resting.
It is late and they have left their last load. The workers are no
longer dressing the canal.
A little bit further on is the water source. A fast-running river
gushes down the mountainside. This is the San Antonio, which
springs from Culebrillas. The place is very strange, a gorge between
steep, black cliffs, crowned by thick bushes. Around the water are
huge trees, with moss hanging from the branches. The river is
steaming in the mist. A cement jetty runs straight into the river,
diverting some of the water into the canal. This is the toma, intake,
of the water. There are 14 similar intakes along the river, each
diverting water into a canal that will carry the water kilometre
after kilometre down to the thirsty fields. This is the water the
members of the Chuichun water association were afraid of losing to
the people of Suscal.
Leaving behind the misty highlands, the Chaucha-Suscal canal
appears. It is 22 kilometres long and the longest canal in Upper
Cañar. This canal does not originate in wild terrain like the
Chuichun; instead it comes from a small river called Chauchas
between green meadows. A rather complicated cement construction
swallows the river and turns it into a fast-running stream within a
cement-dressed canal. The flow is regulated and flows at a speed of
110 litres per second. It is the birth place of the water for 74 families. However, this is a complicated canal, and outright water theft is
reported in at least 20 places.
Alfonso Mogroveso Durán is the president of the directory of the
Chaucha-Suscal in the two sectors of Suscal and Gun Chico. Don
Alfonso’s task is to monitor the first nine kilometres of the canal. He
does so every day all year round. He starts in the morning at six
o’clock and finishes work at one o’clock in the afternoon. Seeing him
in action one realizes that it is rather hard work. The canal runs
through forests, under bridges and cliffs, along steep mountainsides.
Alfonso Mogroveso Durán,
president of the directory of
the Chaucha-Suscal Canal
Men, women and children work
in the construction of a canal
85
86
There are branches and leaves everywhere hindering the flow; he
picks them all up. The canal fills with this debris every day. “Last
week I had to drag out a dead horse. It was very difficult”, says Don
Alfonso. After walking for a few kilometres, the first fields are
reached and Don Alfonso checks that the sluice gate is closed properly. People up here are lucky due to the abundance of water.
Much further down, the dry fields close to Suscal’s graveyard are
found. Here the canal is nothing more than a dirty ditch, without
cement support and filled with dirt and trash. This is the tail of the
canal and it would have been filled with water if people higher up
had stuck to their quotas. Just a few hundred metres up, there is still
water running and people have, with the help of CARC and PROTOS,
constructed huge reservoirs and dressed the canal. Up there, several tubes criss-cross the fields, illegally ending up in the canal. This is
the problem with irrigation canals. The less water there is, the more
eager people are to get it, and thus they happily exceed quotas and
steal water. There is not enough water down here anyway, as people
up in the mountains have taken more than they were allotted.
Social stratification is evident here. The people living by the
canal’s upper course are white and better off than the indigenous
people and mestizos living further down. The people at the bottom
work in the mingas higher up, which often leads to tension.
Another canal is being built in the lower parts of Cañar. This area
is mostly inhabited by poor mestizos, who have often worked as daylabourers on the plantations in the Highlands and have moved down
to the dry lowlands in order to get some land of their own. Many of
these are seasonal workers in the cane fields or the huge banana
plantations near the coast. Luis Octavio Lema is the ‘master’ for the
construction of the new canal El Tormento. The building of the canal
is extremely complicated as it follows a steep mountainside consisting mostly of fairly loose sand. It seems to be a dangerous job, clinging to the cliff and pouring cement into the ditch of the unfinished
canal. The canal will take water to a village and will probably revive
agriculture there. Since the canal is quite short and destined for a
relatively homogenous group of people, there will probably be no
conflict surrounding this one.
The Mestizos?
Up to this point the description of the CARC project has been concentrated on conflicts over water and ethnic tensions. This demonstrates the obstacles the project has overcome and how its executors
did their best to foment dialogue and establish cooperation among
beneficiaries. However, the indigenous people were not singled out
as the sole beneficiaries. Many mestizos and whites also benefited.
An example is David Lizandro Verdugo Martínez, president of the
Cantonal Agricultural Centre of Cañar. Despite his role as a teacher
of general culture, he says this does not hinder him from being a cattle breeder and an agriculturist. “I am from Cañar and 90% of the
people from Cañar have something to do with agriculture.”
David Lizandro is one of the organizers of Cañar’s annual fair of
cattle and agriculture, sponsored by CARC. Like many older people
from Cañar, he laments the latest development, stressing that different governments’ lack of interest in agriculture is killing the
Ecuadorian countryside. According to David Lizandro, Ecuadorian
politics are characterized by too much talk and self-interest. His discourse reveals some themes common to white people in the valley. It
is difficult to judge if his opinions reflect a certain amount of racism,
or if they are intended to be a statement of actual facts:
The exodus of people in search of dollars is getting worse every
year. The money that comes back is not invested in land or agriculture, but in houses and luxuries. The indigenous people are
growing stronger. They move into the towns and have more children than we have. A new class is taking shape and it is not constituted by the indigenous people of the countryside. This is an
entirely different group of people. They are talking about revenge,
but without reason. Marginalization is taking place, a polarization. A certain group of people are supported by outsiders. In ten
Construction of the
new canal El Tormento
87
years’ time, you will see the end of the Granary of Austral. They
say that CARC has favoured the indigenous communities. It is not
true. CARC has done a good job. A practical and unpolitical job.
CARC treated everyone in a decent way and worked with all
groups, without making any distinctions. If people say that CARC
has exclusively favoured the indigenous populations, then I am
an indigenous person as well.119
The road building component was not given a high priority. However, it
was vitally important in one case – the road to Paguankay. This formerly isolated place lies in the lowlands, just above the Cañar River. The
landscape is almost tropical. The mestizos living in this area used to
make a living on agua ardiente, a strong alcohol made from sugarcane.
It came as a complete surprise when the representatives came
here and asked if we wanted a road. I confused them with politicians and thought they were going to fool me in some way or
another. ‘We can build a road’, they said. ‘Yes, and donkeys have
wings’, I answered them. After two months, they returned with
machinery and asked for a minga. In six months, they built the
road, together with CREA, and our lives changed completely.
When the road was finished, they came with many offers: credit
for buying pigs, to install a communal store, storage for beans,
new varieties of maize and beans. I took credit to buy pigs. I
installed two silos. I opened a nursery. I installed a small carpentry shop with machinery to sculpt tagu nuts.120 I have a nice
garden plot and a nursery for worms; I sell both worms and tree
seedlings with good profit. I have tried to make use of all offers
and have not lost anything.121
88
Anselmo is typical of many small farmers able to benefit from the
model of integrated farming systems introduced by the project.
Furthermore, Anselmo is successful in the sense that his neighbours
are adopting several of the innovations he has tried out on his small
farm. This process is probably facilitated by the fact that many of his
neighbours within the small village of Santo Domingo Paguancay are
related to him.
119
120
121
122
123
Interview with David Lizandro Verdugo Martínez.
When dried, these big nuts become extremely hard. Polished and sculpted into small
effigies of animals they look as if they were ivory, and the nuts are thus often called
organic ivory. The small sculptures are becoming increasingly popular handicraft items
for tourists visiting Ecuador.
Interview with Anselmo Calló.
Ibid.
Interview with Paola Guaman.
What Can We Learn from the CARC Project?
Considering the difficulties and fierce criticism that the project
has faced, today it is amazingly difficult to find critical voices. Much
of the present critique is not emphasizing any direct failure; what is
voiced is more the sense of disappointment that follows high expectations: “It was not as revolutionizing as we thought it would be”.
“They hired more outsiders than locals”. “It is coming to an end just
when it starts to function and deliver”. “The dam of Culebrillas was
not built, but as long as CARC was here we had a hope, and they did
much for drinking water and irrigation anyway”.
Nevertheless, people able to participate in CARC programmes,
mostly farmers from remote areas, tend to be grateful for the opportunities received:
A lot has changed for me through the project, this new way of looking at things –how to live an organized life both as a person and
as a member of a group has had great importance for me.122
It is strange, but I feel that my husband is supporting me. Gender
is gaining ground. We are more responsible as women than we
were before. Now husband and wife have something like an agreement. We are making decisions together. Before there was much
discrimination against us women. However, men are now learning to take us seriously. When we demonstrate that we are conscientious and able to earn money for the household, we gain
respect. This is something we teach our children and it gives me
hope for the future.123
Anselmo Calló, a small farmer,
has introduced integrated farming
systems on his small farm
89
I like to work and CARC has given me plenty of opportunities to
do that. The credit is excellent; previously the high interest was
crippling. CARC offers me not only a better income, but also training and introduction to new methods.124
In 1995, I had my first contact with CARC, obtaining training and
improved potato seeds. After that I received more training and
became the beneficiary of a drinking water programme. I have
benefited a lot from my collaboration with CARC. When they
leave, I feel a little like a young man who has been brought up by
his father and now is left alone to use his skills.125
What is conspicuous in many of the encounters with CARC beneficiaries is their appreciation of the training they have received. This
may be a manifestation of the thirst for knowledge among a social
class that for too long has been excluded from education and influence. The project technicians also often summarize their experience
as a process of learning:
90
It has been like a school for me. I have learned a lot within different fields of knowledge and now realize the importance not only
of technical skills and knowledge, but also of social skills and
insights. This will surely be very helpful for me in the future.126
The project is now drawing to a close. It leaves behind the following
benefits: improved and new irrigation systems; a road that opened up
a remote community to the surrounding world; an efficient credit
cooperative; plastic-sheeted greenhouses for fruit and other important market products; more efficient guinea-pig breeding methods to
ensure better prices throughout the region; better knowledge of integrated farming systems; and more efficient water committees and
appropriate drinking water systems.
124
125
126
Interview with Juan Tapia Vásquez.
Interview with M. Espiritu Quizhpi.
Interview with Clever Padrón.
The project has also introduced efficient NGOs capable of serving
beneficiaries’ future needs, including CICDA/CEDIR, SENDAS and
PROTOS. These organizations offer knowledge and experiences
gained in similar areas in other countries, combined with familiarity with the realities of the Cañar river basin obtained by current
staff through their work with CARC. They will continue their work
with the support of the Royal Embassy of The Netherlands in
Ecuador.
CARC started out as a highly technical programme within a society marked by conflict. It entered onstage at the time of an ongoing
process and naturally became another actor. The project was
attacked and slandered, but staff kept calm and patiently engaged in
building up a dialogue with the other actors. Political games were
avoided and technicians concentrated on direct cooperation with
people at the small-scale farm production level, helping to organize
them and learning to listen to farmers.
Hatun Cañar thirsts for water and knowledge. Much of the story
about Cañar has been focused on water. The purpose was to trace the
role of water in the minds and lives of the area’s inhabitants. The
extremely important fact of who owns and controls the water and
who does not have access to it has often occupied center stage. It is
clear that power – power over land and water – is probably the key
issue in the Cañar area, as it is in almost any other agricultural area
of the world. Of course, it is impossible for a project such as CARC to
influence this fact over night. However, great efforts were made to
help people organize themselves, gain a voice and obtain methods,
tools and instruments that will be useful in providing a living for
themselves and their families.
Irrigation and drinking
water systems, greenhouses,
guinea-pig breeding and
credit are some of the
benefits of the CARC project
91
92
Water may be both bitter and sweet: water is bitter when it
becomes the cause of conflict and when it is hard, or impossible, to
gain access to it; however, it is sweet when it enters your fields and
revives them, providing health and strength to yourself and your children. It is also sweet when you gain access to it through hard labour
and joint efforts with your neighbours.
CARC succeeded, often against tough odds, in providing many families with water. Although not everyone was able to obtain the coveted liquid, most people realized that the best hope for obtaining, and
maintaining, the water is by working together, organizing and gaining knowledge. The hope is that the search continues and that the
Cañaris will finally be able to quench their thirst for strength, knowledge and water.
The story tried to show that water is not only a tangible thing,
essential for people’s lives. It is also a mighty symbol of people’s
hopes, their striving. Most mythologies stress the apparent adaptability of water, how it seeks out its place within the landscape, following
the contours of the terrain while reshaping and redefining them.
Furthermore, despite being the upholder of life, water is not presumptuous – it does not superimpose itself. It seeks out the lowest parts of
the landscape, acting from the bottom up. It lets life creep up from the
lowest parts and in that way reaches the entire system. Thus – like an
efficient development project – it acts from the bottom up.
Mishqui-yacu (sweet water).
[
]
bibliography
· Almeida Durán, Napoleón (1990), “Informe asunto Culebrillas” (MIMEO),
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Copenhagen.
95
Ministry
of Social
Welfare
[
Royal Embassy of
The Netherlands in
Ecuador
]
The story of a development project
carried out with the indigenous
peoples of Ecuador

mishqui-yacu, sweet water

Transcription

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