The Day of the Dead

We faded quickly last night. It almost took too much energy to eat. I try to fall asleep as quickly as I can so I need not be conscious of the inadequacies of our hotel room. Unfortunately we are in a room just off the main reception area where every time a guest wants to enter, they ring a very loud doorbell and sometimes twice or three times to wake up the receptionist, so the night is interrupted until 5 or 6 in the morning (guests like to start partying at midnight here and go until morning) and then early risers start their breakfast by 7…needless to say, our hotel has not been the best part of our trip. However, late this evening when I returned home from the festivities I almost tripped over a woman on the sidewalk wrapped in a blanket and asleep amidst the loud fireworks. She looked my age but more weathered and cold. That gave me a moment of perspective.

I was surprised at how refreshed I felt this morning despite the rough night. It was 'La Dia de Los Muertes' (the day of the dead) and the first thing to do after breakfast was to find a mass, which was happening in every church in town. We happened to have breakfast right next to the New Cathedral. I was thankful that the Catholic mass is the same all over the world, so it is easy to know when to sit, when to stand, when to say the Lord's prayer and when to kneel, and when to shake that hands of those around you. I felt entirely comfortable despite understanding very little of it. I expected there to be differences because it was the day to celebrate ones' deceased loved ones, but it felt like a usual mass. Except that the cantor strummed the guitar and sounded Andean, but that made sense to me. I wanted to find a cemetery and to see more of the celebration. Amparo had told me that her family goes to mass at 8 in the morning and then to the cemetery to honour their father, who had died about ten years ago. The family goes to his grave and clean it and paint his name more clearly, and leave flowers for him. 

Once home, the family prepares a special meal, which includes a soup with 'harina de aves' with 'churros' or 'caracoles' ( 'una soap especial' for 'el dia de los muertes'). Everything else is fried, with rice, fried bread, fried plantains, fried meat, and fried eggs. Colada morada (the special drink that is made for this occasion) is made with harina de maize negro, fruits, agua con te de canela and calvo de alor and anise, plantas verdes , hierba luisa, manzanilla, y planta rojo (this is all mixed and sits for a day or two ahead of time), added to jugo de mora (blackberries) and murtillo (blueberries), sugar and panela moreno (brown cane sugar), pineapples, babaco, and frutillas and manzana (Amparo does not like to add the manzana). The whole combination is cooked and served hot with guaguas de pan. The family eats and converses and spends the day together. The loss of their father still brings tears to her eyes.

There are dozens of varieties of guaguas de pan. I tried every kind at my favorite bakery in Quito (Cyrano's) , which included those filled with mora, guayaba, manjar de leche and nutella. They sold the 'colada morada' as well, but I tried Isabel's version instead. She served it cold, but Amparo insisted that it be served hot, which tastes best. I have been looking in each of the bakeries here in Cuenca, and the guaguas are unique in each store. I could not taste every one!

After mass at the Catedral Nuevo, we visited the old cathedral which is now a museum. It is neoclassical in style and has been expanded and renovated several times. It is almost entirely made of wood painted to look like marble and each of the unique chapels is donated by a different influential family. The statues are made of wood or wood and painted cloth and are meant to be paraded through the town on festival days. Crucified Christ is excessively bloody and the explanation of that is that the imposition of Catholicism on the local population was violent and oppressive and the indigenous artists depicted the suffering of Christ as a reflection of their own suffering at the hands of the Spanish and the church. Rather amazing that the church has been so successful in its efforts at conversion. I must learn more about the statues of Christ with his heart exposed. Our guide explained that the President Garcia Moreno (who was assassinated in front of the Presidential palace in Quito) was very religious and consecrated all Ecuador to Christ and his heart. I am not sure I understood him correctly.

I found my way into a hat factory and decided that I must have a Panama hat. The process of hat making is far more complicated than one can imagine, and the amount of work that is required is rather astonishing. Later both Maya and I bought our Panama hats, but bought inexpensive ones. I remember that the last time I was in Cuenca with Eric's students one of them spent over a hundred dollars (they go up to thousands of dollars!) for a hat and was devastated when it got wet and disfigured. Apparently you can iron them back into shape, but the hat looked so sad and misshapen, it was hard to imagine that it could ever go back to the way it was.

I met Eric and Maya at the Cafe Austro for a weinerschnitzel and strudel. Neither were quite right, but generally the food here in Cuenca has been delicious. The rest of the day was a shopping expedition, through the 'Casa de la Mujer' (artesanial market) and back to the craft fair at 'El Barranco'. Eric wanted his 'Salasaca' poncho, which the woman at the Salasaca booth sent for from home. It arrived overnight from near Ambato. It is very expensive because it is made by hand and takes much time and effort to do. Eric has wanted one forever, but balked at the price .The Salasaca Indians are originally from Bolivia and were moved to the area around Ambato by the Incans and were not much liked by their neighbors when they mourned the death of Atahualpa. They still wear their black ponchos in mourning for their loss.

I wanted to see more ruins along the Calle Larga but we visited the Aboriginal Museum instead. I was amazed at the collection, white was a private one, later donated to the museum and catalogued. An extraordinarily vast array of neolithic, Valdivian, Chorrera. Machalalla, JamaCoaque, Tolita, Bahia, Canari, and Incan artifacts, well organized and well presented except that there was too much to see therefore difficult to absorb. The museum shop was over stuffed as well, but had lovely antique textiles I wanted to purchase, but were beyond my means. Not necessary but it would be wonderful to have them!