mishqui-yacu, sweet water - IFAD
mishqui-yacu, sweet water - IFAD
mishqui-yacu, sweet water - IFAD
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
Ministry<br />
of Social<br />
Welfare<br />
Royal Embassy of<br />
The Netherlands in<br />
Ecuador<br />
<strong>mishqui</strong>-<strong>yacu</strong>, <strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong><br />
The story of a development project<br />
carried out with the indigenous<br />
peoples of Ecuador
<strong>mishqui</strong>-<strong>yacu</strong>, <strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong><br />
Table of Contents<br />
3 Foreword<br />
5 Preface<br />
9 Presentation<br />
11 Introduction<br />
14 Ecuador: Reign of Contrasts<br />
14 The Highlands<br />
16 Thirst for Water in Hatun Cañar<br />
18 The Cañaris<br />
25 Mountains: Realm of Power<br />
26 Culebrillas: Where the Water Is Born<br />
30 Water and Development<br />
33 Cañari Development Initiatives<br />
35 The Initial Proposal<br />
38 Conflict!<br />
46 Local Patriotism<br />
50 The Huasipungo System<br />
52 Land Reforms<br />
55 Up from the Middle Ages<br />
56 Getting Organized<br />
60 The ‘Indian Question’ and the<br />
Rise of CONAIE<br />
64 UPCCC, CARC and<br />
Ethnic Politics in Cañar<br />
67 The Baseline Study<br />
70 Cholera and Drinking Water<br />
75 Credit<br />
75 Gender and Migration<br />
79 Politics and Renovation<br />
80 The Farmer Coordinator<br />
81 Irrigation<br />
87 The Mestizos?<br />
89 What Can We Learn from the<br />
CARC Project?<br />
94 Bibliography
© 2001 by the International Fund for Agricultural Development (<strong>IFAD</strong>)<br />
The designations employed and the presentation of material in this publication do not imply the expression<br />
of any opinion whatsoever on the part of the International Fund for Agricultural Development of the<br />
United Nations concerning the legal status of any country, territory, city or area or of its authorities, or<br />
concerning the delimitation of its frontiers or boundaries. The designations “developed” and “developing”<br />
economies are intended for statistical convenience and do not necessarily express a judgement<br />
about the stage reached by a particular country or area in the development process.<br />
All rights reserved<br />
ISBN 92-9072-010-7<br />
Prepared by: Jan Lundius for the Latin America and the Caribbean<br />
Division of <strong>IFAD</strong>. Jan Lundius is an academic of Swedish nationality<br />
with a doctorate in Comparative Religion and with a specialization in<br />
the nature of religion in rural areas. We would like to thank Jan<br />
Lundius for giving us the opportunity to profit by his vast knowledge<br />
and creative ability in documenting experiences in rural development.<br />
Produced by: Publications Team of <strong>IFAD</strong><br />
Design: Silvia Persi<br />
All photos <strong>IFAD</strong><br />
Susan Beccio: pages 5, 6, 9, 11, 13, 17, 28, 32, 45, 51, 53, 57, 61, 63,<br />
69, 74, 78, 81 - Giuseppe Bizzarri: cover and pages 7, 25, 35, 37, 59,<br />
64, 72, 81, 82, 83, 85, 91, 93 - Jan Lundius: cover and pages 3, 20, 21,<br />
23, 27, 41, 42, 46, 55, 67, 69, 72, 77, 85, 87, 89, 91<br />
Printed by: GMS Grafiche - Rome, Italy<br />
April 2001<br />
Via del Serafico, 107 – 00142 Rome, Italy<br />
Tel.: +39-0654591 – Fax: +39-065043463<br />
E-mail: <strong>IFAD</strong>@<strong>IFAD</strong>.ORG - Web site: www.ifad.org
foreword<br />
Ecuador is a small country that straddles the equator, or the<br />
ecuador in Spanish. Its long beaches are just hours away from its high<br />
mountain peaks, which rise up only hours away from its lush forests,<br />
so rich in natural resources. In this book, Jan Lundius gives an objective<br />
description of nature’s generosity in Ecuador and its rich diversity<br />
of ethnic groups, each with its own customs. One of these groups is the<br />
Cañaris, the original inhabitants of the mountains and valleys of the<br />
southern highland region. The Cañaris have received support from the<br />
Government of Ecuador through <strong>IFAD</strong> financing of a rural development<br />
project that also included contributions from the Government of<br />
the Kingdom of The Netherlands. As the following chapters will note,<br />
it was not always an easy path; in fact, many hurdles had to be overcome<br />
but, in the end, will-power prevailed.<br />
The Cañaris – who are both the focus and the raison d’être of the<br />
project – of course hold their own views and from time to time have<br />
said “no” to mestizo technical staff who have wanted to do things for<br />
them rather than with them. The process ultimately was one of consensus<br />
involving joint decisions and joint work, and the presence of<br />
Rudolf Mulder and later Gauke Andriesse, both of The Netherlands,<br />
was of vital importance to the project’s success.<br />
Under the Agrarian Reform Act of 1963, the land was returned to its<br />
rightful owners: the indigenous communities. Although the process<br />
itself was fraught with inequities, this piece of legislation enshrined a<br />
historical act of sweeping proportions: it broke the chains that had<br />
bound indigenous people to landowners, thus bringing an end to a<br />
dark period in the country’s history.<br />
3<br />
[ The Cañari people said "no" ]
4<br />
This meant that many indigenous people were now owners of their<br />
own small lots (huasipungos). But the strong sunlight that shines<br />
down on this region of the world is counteracted by the lack of another<br />
crucial element: <strong>water</strong>. Indigenous residents and farmers alike have<br />
always had one eye on the field as they sowed their crops and the<br />
other on the sky, hopeful that clouds would soon appear to provide<br />
<strong>water</strong> to make their plants grow and to fill the cisterns for their family<br />
drinking <strong>water</strong>.<br />
The local Cañari organizations and mestizo farmers that had joined<br />
the project thus decided that the Upper Basin of the Cañar River<br />
Rural Development Project (CARC) should focus on the construction,<br />
rehabilitation and maintenance of irrigation canals and <strong>water</strong><br />
supply systems. The testimonials that follow speak eloquently of the<br />
overall process, including the problems encountered and how they<br />
were overcome.<br />
It was clear that start-up of the activities would need to be accompanied<br />
by training and the organization of <strong>water</strong> user boards to ensure<br />
rational <strong>water</strong> use and management, strengthening of organizations<br />
that benefit from irrigation canals, technical assistance and credit.<br />
These activities complement each other; if they are not carried out in<br />
a simultaneous and comprehensive fashion, the component is doomed<br />
to failure.<br />
This has not been an easy project; in fact, it has been a very complex<br />
one. The actors, however, have always had the integrity to keep<br />
moving ahead despite all the problems. In the final analysis, it may not<br />
be all that different from many other projects. What makes it different<br />
is the setting in which it has been carried out.<br />
Rafael Guerrero Burgos<br />
Undersecretary for Rural Development<br />
Ministry of Social Welfare
preface<br />
Aside from supporting the fight against poverty, what other<br />
motivation or specific orientation led The Netherlands Development<br />
Cooperation to cofinance, beginning in early 1992, the Upper Basin of<br />
the Cañar River Rural Development Project (CARC)?<br />
Land reform alone was obviously not the definitive solution to the<br />
problems of the rural poor in Cañar province. It was not enough just<br />
to have land to sow crops or graze livestock on, nor was it enough to<br />
hope for an "excellent" rainy season. The key would be <strong>water</strong> for irrigation,<br />
a very scarce resource.<br />
Accordingly, working with the International Fund for Agricultural<br />
Development (with support from the Andean Development Corporation<br />
and the Inter-American Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture), the<br />
Ministry of Social Welfare (through its Undersecretariat for Rural<br />
Development) and various smaller-scale indigenous and farmer organizations,<br />
The Netherlands Development Cooperation lent support for<br />
implementation of the CARC project. The purpose of the project was<br />
to boost food self-sufficiency and in-come levels for rural poor in the<br />
area, mainly by increasing the availability of <strong>water</strong> through the construction<br />
or rehabilitation of irrigation systems and better on-farm<br />
management of <strong>water</strong>.<br />
Once it became clear that the ill-advised plan to build a dam on<br />
Lake Culebrillas had failed, the project was immediately reformulated.<br />
Priority was shifted from "irrigation systems" to "<strong>water</strong> management",<br />
following recommendations of the initial technical review mission<br />
and the findings of a baseline study (Rural Economy and<br />
Production Systems: A Baseline Study for the Andean Highlands<br />
5
6<br />
[Economía campesina y sistemas de producción, estudio de base de la<br />
sierra andina]. DHV Consultants BV, Quito, 1995). The study analysed<br />
all facets of the producer economy, described the region’s agroecology<br />
and helped to explain the existing interrelationships. It also contributed<br />
to the planning, implementation, monitoring and evaluation of<br />
the project and provided tools for training and technical assistance.<br />
The construction and rehabilitation of infrastructure, which included<br />
rural roads, was complemented with sustainable community-based<br />
management of forest resources, farm credit and legal advice for the<br />
organizations.<br />
Although start-up technically took place in 1996, the first tangible<br />
achievements did not appear until 1997, owing mainly to recurring<br />
political problems (government instability) and, to a certain degree,<br />
lack of local counterpart funding (economic and financial crisis).<br />
Working against a project completion horizon of 1999, a second<br />
technical review mission was sent to the field and concluded that,<br />
despite the relatively short time the project had been under implementation,<br />
some important achievements had been made in such<br />
areas as construction work and the strengthening of local organizations.<br />
Subcontracting to non-governmental organizations (e.g. for<br />
drinking <strong>water</strong> supply and credit) had been a key factor.<br />
On that basis, the project was extended through the end of 2000 in<br />
order to allow for completion of the physical infrastructure and the<br />
consolidation and transfer of its management. Other activities involved<br />
organized beneficiary groups (irrigation and <strong>water</strong> user boards)<br />
and other local organizations, and increased support for productive<br />
activities.<br />
[ Fair distribution of <strong>water</strong> ]
The strategy called for a gradual but significant scaling back of the<br />
project’s executing unit, while transferring responsibility for services<br />
to local organizations such as producer or <strong>water</strong> user associations and<br />
subcontracting to NGOs at least through 2001. These NGOs (consortia<br />
made up of CICDA-CEDIR and PROTOS-SENDAS) are overseeing the<br />
transfer, technical assistance and training activities that will promote<br />
the diversification of production and build post-harvest and marketing<br />
capacity among farmer organizations – as well as among farmers<br />
and their families – in the high-priority areas of El Tambo-Juncal and<br />
Suscal-Chontamarca.<br />
In other words, the last stage of the project aims to intensify the agricultural<br />
output of local production units by ensuring access to, control over<br />
and use of resources, services and infrastructure for production, irrigation<br />
and drinking <strong>water</strong>, as well as the strengthening of their organizations.<br />
The objectives are many: enhance the availability, control and fair<br />
distribution of <strong>water</strong> for irrigation and human consumption; have<br />
<strong>water</strong> user and irrigation boards assume responsibility for sustainable<br />
management of their systems (administration, operation and maintenance)<br />
and conflict resolution; diversify and intensify the agricultural<br />
output of production units; help producer groups to market products<br />
with greater added value, on a timely basis, through traditional or new<br />
marketing chains so as to enhance local production prices and foster<br />
new investment; achieve better gender balance by raising the profile<br />
and strengthening the leadership of women in producer associations<br />
and boards and ensure gender equity in access to project benefits; and<br />
systematize and disseminate the project’s experience by training professionals,<br />
technical specialists, rural residents and students in the<br />
value of <strong>water</strong> in productive systems.<br />
7
8<br />
There are at least three important lessons to be drawn from the<br />
years of work with this type of project. First, the factors of production<br />
(<strong>water</strong>, land, credit) cannot be approached in an isolated fashion; rather,<br />
they need to be complemented with other activities through-out<br />
the production chain and even in the marketing chain, as part of a<br />
long-term process. Second, the involvement of beneficiary organizations<br />
– in this case, irrigation and <strong>water</strong> user boards, producer associations,<br />
communities and smaller-scale organizations – is crucial to<br />
obtaining tangible, sustainable results, thus meshing and reconciling<br />
their initiatives and proposals with the support from NGOs, governmental<br />
agencies and international cooperation. Lastly, ethnic and cultural<br />
factors – in this case, of the Cañari group – must be taken into<br />
account in programming and implementation, especially if activities<br />
are to be sustainable.<br />
The Embassy of The Netherlands in Ecuador presents this publication<br />
as a testimony to the responsibility that was gratefully shared,<br />
despite the many issues it had to address with the numerous actors<br />
and stakeholders involved in the important task here described.<br />
Jan Bauer<br />
Environmental Affairs and<br />
Rural Development Specialist<br />
Royal Embassy of The Netherlands<br />
Quito, Ecuador
presentation<br />
I have known the Cañar project for more than ten years – since its<br />
development phase, which marked the beginning of <strong>IFAD</strong>'s attention<br />
to indigenous peoples in various Latin American countries. As can be<br />
seen in this publication, the history of indigenous peoples has gone<br />
through a series of dramatic historical stages. The year 1992 marked<br />
the 500th anniversary of the conquest of many of the lands belonging<br />
to indigenous peoples – and since then they have had to struggle for<br />
their rights, their land and respect for their culture.<br />
The Cañar project has been no exception to this history and the<br />
project went through a very tense and difficult initial phase. The project<br />
design paid insufficient attention to past history and the concerns<br />
of the various communities that should have been the leading actors<br />
in this activity. This was a hard lesson for us – equitable participation<br />
had not been adequately respected.<br />
In the second phase since 1995, local organizations and the project<br />
showed the fruits of close shoulder-to-shoulder collaboration. As a<br />
result, irrigators' boards were set up, and the confidence of the population<br />
was gained when a cholera epidemic was overcome. An<br />
unorthodox system was put in place ("Electric Water") for supplying<br />
drinking <strong>water</strong> to various communities, and of course the project<br />
facilitated the arrival of <strong>water</strong> to crops via irrigation systems.<br />
Having arrived at the end of this project, we would like to think about,<br />
listen to and reflect on the history of the Cañaris at various stages of<br />
their existence as well as bring together certain elements of what the<br />
Cañar project tried to support – greater access to <strong>water</strong>, improved<br />
organization and a more equitable society for men and women.<br />
9<br />
[ Shoulder–to–shoulder<br />
collaboration ]
10<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong> considers that this project has been successful not so much<br />
for having reached all of its initially stated objectives, but because it<br />
left an inheritance in the hands of the El Tambo and Suscal communities<br />
that should enable them to improve the lives of their families in<br />
coming years and decades.<br />
We are very grateful to the Cañaris, their organizations, the Cañar<br />
project technical staff and to the NGOs CICDA-CEDIR, PROTOS and<br />
SENDAS – without them, it would not have been possible in such a<br />
short time, since 1997, to have achieved so much.<br />
I would also like to thank the Government of The Netherlands,<br />
which not only made a financial donation to the project, but also facilitated<br />
very crucial support to its implementation through the provision<br />
of experts and especially the codirectors.<br />
I would like to invite you to read this story of the Cañar project and<br />
of the Cañaris – do not expect a standard project completion report,<br />
nor a checklist of successes. However, I think that in this simple and<br />
open account the reader can appreciate the achievements of the Cañar<br />
communities, as well as the difficulties they overcame to attain them.<br />
Raquel Peña-Montenegro<br />
Director<br />
Latin America and the Caribbean Division<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong>
introduction<br />
This is not a book about a project. Rather, it is a book about the people<br />
who live in an area where a development project was carried out.<br />
The Cañaris are one of Ecuador’s indigenous groups and in this book<br />
they have been given an opportunity to speak up and speak out about<br />
the <strong>IFAD</strong>-designed and supported CARC project: the impact it has had<br />
on their lives, how it has helped them, how it has opened their eyes to<br />
new opportunities, and how some of these opportunities have yet to be<br />
fully tapped.<br />
The story of the Cañaris is an important one and the CARC project<br />
is only a small part of that story (indeed, it is almost an entire story in<br />
and of itself). The history of the Cañaris is a story of the struggle for<br />
<strong>water</strong> (for irrigation) and of the peace and unity brought by <strong>water</strong> (for<br />
consumption). It is a story about lack of foresight stemming from precipitate<br />
action by well-meaning mestizos and Europeans and unfamiliarity<br />
with cañari history. But it is also a story that stands out, like the<br />
<strong>water</strong> pipes brought later by the mestizos to combat a cholera epidemic<br />
that threatened to decimate the Cañaris, and a story that highlights<br />
the importance of bottom-up organization among the project’s<br />
target population, who were able to effect change and transform a<br />
bureaucratic instrument into a form of democratic development that<br />
is pursued by consensus among area residents, consultants, officials of<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong>, The Netherlands Cooperation and the national and local governments<br />
of Ecuador.<br />
The lessons learned from this experience point, once again, to the<br />
importance of organizations and “ownership” by project beneficiaries.<br />
11<br />
[<br />
A story of struggle<br />
and peace<br />
brought by <strong>water</strong> ]
12<br />
They underscore the positive impact of small-scale factors that lie<br />
within their control and contribute to making their activities sustainable.<br />
They also show the importance of open dialogue between organizations<br />
and between “inside” and “outside” stakeholders in the service<br />
of development.<br />
The CARC project teaches, once again, how a lack of familiarity with<br />
local traditions and customs, coupled with projects perceived as<br />
“monumental”, such as the attempt to build a dam on Lake<br />
Culebrillas, are neither the door nor the path to combat rural poverty.<br />
There are also some smaller lessons to be learned, on details such<br />
as credit, infrastructure, technical assistance and training, i.e. what<br />
worked and what did not. The most important lessons, however, were<br />
the crucial role of bottom-up organization, the dynamic role of rural<br />
women and the setting aside of ethnic and political divisions when a<br />
community and human lives are at stake.<br />
Fate (the appearance of a horrible disease) and the solutions<br />
devised to combat it lay at the root of the second period of Cañari history:<br />
development of the upper Cañar River basin.<br />
In this second period, a leading role was played by the men and<br />
women of The Netherlands Cooperation (especially Rudolf Mulder<br />
and Gauke Andriesse), the unflagging efforts of local officials – both<br />
indigenous and non-indigenous – and Ecuador’s Ministry of Social<br />
Welfare, and last but not least, the support of <strong>IFAD</strong> staff in Rome.<br />
The main part, however, has been played and continues to be played<br />
by the indigenous Cañari men and women and the organizations<br />
through which they decided to take their fate into their own hands. It<br />
is to them that we dedicate this book, which Jan Lundius has produced<br />
by weaving local voices in with interviews and study findings. We hope<br />
that this story will allow readers that are unfamiliar with the CARC project<br />
area to gain a fuller understanding and appreciation of it.<br />
Mishqui-Yacu–<strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong>–thanks to the Cañaris who have breathed<br />
new freshness into it. That is what this book is about.<br />
Pablo Glikman<br />
Country Portfolio Manager<br />
Latin America and the Caribbean Division<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong>
[<br />
<strong>mishqui</strong>-<strong>yacu</strong>, <strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong> ]
Ecuador: Reign of Contrasts<br />
14<br />
Within the Latin American context, Ecuador is a small country<br />
with a land area of 284 000 km 2 and approximately 12.5 million<br />
inhabitants. Nevertheless, it is a country characterized by contrast,<br />
a mosaic of unique geographical regions populated by peoples whose<br />
ancestors have either lived there for thousands of years, or arrived<br />
from Europe and Africa over the last five hundred years. 1<br />
Cut in two by the Equator, Ecuador has a climate similar to that of<br />
Equatorial Africa. However, the chilly Humboldt Current, sweeping<br />
along the coast and the Andes, running like a vertebra from north to<br />
south, create a varied landscape that shelters a wide range of distinctive<br />
ecosystems: hot coastal plains with banana, sugarcane and<br />
cocoa plantations, lined by long stretches of unspoilt sandy beaches;<br />
river estuaries harbouring mangrove swamps, although many are<br />
being cut back to make way for shrimp farms (often operated by itinerant<br />
workers from the highlands not far away). A few hours drive<br />
will take you to cool valleys where wet mists often hide the blue<br />
skies. Huge mountain peaks or threatening volcanoes shelter these<br />
places from the steaming jungles that lie on the other side of the<br />
Andean range.<br />
The Ecuadorians divide their nation into roughly three different<br />
areas: the Coast, the Andean Highlands, and the East, i.e. the<br />
Amazonas.<br />
The Highlands<br />
The Ecuadorian Andes are formed by two parallel chains of mountains,<br />
the Cordillera Occidental and the Cordillera Real or Oriental,<br />
both with peaks ranging from 4 000 to 4 500 m above sea level. These<br />
ranges are joined at intervals by transverse foothills, called knots.<br />
Between these two ranges lie the valleys of the Highlands, called<br />
basins, situated from 2 200 to 2 800 m. The basins are quite fertile,<br />
1<br />
There are at least ten different native ethnic groups in Ecuador, each of which considers<br />
itself a distinct nationality with its own language and culture. Furthermore, there<br />
are descendants of Africans and Europeans. A 1993 census divides the population into<br />
roughly the following groups: mestizos 40%, indigenous peoples 40%, whites 10-15%,<br />
blacks and mulattos 5-10% (Holmberg (1998), p.5).
with most characterized by volcanic soils. A river flows from each<br />
basin to the east or west. These highland valleys have been populated<br />
for many centuries. From the valley floors, a patchwork of small<br />
fields extends far up on the mountainsides, demonstrating the intensive<br />
use made of every available inch of land.<br />
The diverse cropping systems that have developed in the<br />
Highlands are based on complicated farming systems, integrating<br />
the cultivation of maize, potatoes (and similar tubers), quinoa, and<br />
leguminous plants. Breeding of domesticated animals such as<br />
camelids (llamas, alpacas and vicuñas) and guinea pigs has developed<br />
in these areas. When the Spaniards arrived in the sixteenth<br />
century, they brought drastic changes, including the introduction of<br />
entirely new species such as wheat, barley, rice, sugar cane, horses,<br />
cows and pigs. New agricultural techniques such as the use of animal<br />
power and ploughs with iron shares revolutionized agriculture,<br />
upset age-old traditions and threatened the sensitive volcanic soil<br />
ecosystems.<br />
During the last century, the coastal areas witnessed spectacular<br />
growth in agricultural production but output was mainly destined<br />
for international markets, while the Andean valleys continued to<br />
produce most of the food for domestic consumption. However,<br />
Ecuadorian agriculture is under threat. The ever-increasing reduction<br />
of plant cover on Andean hillsides has led to an alarming drop<br />
in <strong>water</strong> resources, while illegal use of artificial agricultural inputs<br />
is damaging the environment.<br />
15<br />
ESMERALDAS<br />
CARCHI<br />
IMBABURA<br />
PICHINCHA<br />
SUCUMBIÓS<br />
MANABÍ<br />
COTOPAXI<br />
NAPO<br />
GUAYAS<br />
TUNCURAHUA<br />
LOS<br />
RIOS BOLÍVAR<br />
CHIMBORAZO<br />
PASTAZA<br />
CAÑAR<br />
MORONA<br />
SANTIAGO<br />
AZUAY<br />
EL ORO<br />
[ Ecuador ]<br />
LOJA<br />
ZAMORA<br />
CHINCHIPE
The land’s diminishing production capacity has affected the living<br />
conditions of Andean rural poor families. Their opportunities to earn<br />
a decent income are diminishing, health conditions are deteriorating<br />
and desperate farmers often see migration as the only way to escape<br />
a bleak future of poverty. 2 Ecuadorian rural life is being affected by<br />
two land reforms, ever-increasing social mobility and a changing<br />
political landscape. However, the discouraging fact remains that<br />
three-fourths of the farmers still try to make a living from plots of<br />
less than five hectares, which is seldom enough to meet even the<br />
most minimal needs of their families. 3 Seventy-five per cent of<br />
Ecuador’s rural poor continue to live in a state of absolute poverty. 4<br />
16<br />
Thirst for Water in Hatun Cañar<br />
In the southern part of the Ecuadorian Andes, there is the basin of<br />
the Cañar River – a huge, undulating valley circumscribed by the<br />
knots of Azuay and Buerán and the mountain ranges of Cordillera<br />
Occidental and Cordillera Real. This is the heartland of Hatun<br />
Cañar, the old ‘nation’ of the Cañari people, whose descendants still<br />
live in the area. 5<br />
The swift-running, clear Cañar River cuts through a landscape<br />
that is emerald green and lush during the rainy season (October-<br />
April) and withered brown and grey during the dry months. During<br />
this dry season, rainfall comes well short of meeting the demand for<br />
<strong>water</strong>, while several areas suffer from lack of <strong>water</strong> throughout the<br />
year. Climatological peculiarities and soil quality present remarkable<br />
variations within short distances. Although most of this area is under<br />
irrigation, <strong>water</strong> is limited everywhere and is used infrequently and<br />
insufficiently. Cañari people work hard to build and maintain irrigation<br />
ditches, trying to make the best possible use of every available<br />
source of <strong>water</strong>. However, the existing irrigation infrastructure<br />
2<br />
3<br />
4<br />
5<br />
6<br />
Gómez (1989) presents a comprehensive summary of Ecuadorian geography.<br />
Rossing (1996), p. 102.<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong> (1995), p. 6.<br />
Bolivar Zaruma (1980), pp. 17-20. Ecuador is divided into 22 provinces, subdivided into<br />
cantons. Each canton is administered by a Municipal Council, headed by a mayor. The<br />
province of Cañar is administered by a Provincial Council, situated in the town of<br />
Azogues and is divided into the cantons of Azogues, Biblián, La Troncal, Déleg, Cañar,<br />
El Tambo and Suscal. The three last mentioned cantons roughly constitute the area of<br />
the Upper Basin of the Cañar River (Freire Heredia and Usca (2000), pp. 47 and 59-62).<br />
The area of the Upper Basin covers 99500 ha, with altitudes ranging from 800 to 4 400<br />
m. The census of 1990 estimated its population at 77 100 inhabitants, with the majority<br />
defined as ‘indigenous people’, i.e. Cañaris (<strong>IFAD</strong> (1995), p. 7).<br />
DHV Consultants (1995), pp. 159-60 and 259-60, and <strong>IFAD</strong> (1995), pp. 11-12.
emains rudimentary. There is a constant need for financing and<br />
technical assistance. Disorganized systems hamper <strong>water</strong> distribution,<br />
as well as the sizes, inclination and irregular shapes of the<br />
plots. Every year, inadequate use of irrigation destroys the sensitive<br />
soils, washing them down from hills and mountainsides. Erosion and<br />
lack of protection of <strong>water</strong> sources are caused by indiscriminate<br />
felling of trees and the stripping away of protective plant cover.<br />
Overuse and compression are diminishing soil capacity for <strong>water</strong><br />
absorption. 6 When talking to farmers in the area, <strong>water</strong> is an issue<br />
that never fails to come up. It is common to hear sayings such as:<br />
“Water is to the earth like blood to the humans”.<br />
Still, it is hard to perceive these problems at the end of the rainy<br />
season. Thick mists roll down from the mountainsides or rise from<br />
the distant and invisible seacoast. In several places, <strong>water</strong> gushes<br />
down, while small streams and brooks are seen everywhere. There<br />
are traces of flooding, such as damaged roads and ruined bridges.<br />
You may follow the <strong>water</strong>’s course high up along steep mountainsides,<br />
all the way up to springs and lagoons within the majestic landscapes<br />
of cold and humid plains, sheltered by the awesome peaks of<br />
the mighty Andes.<br />
17<br />
Map of the<br />
CARC project area<br />
Huigra<br />
Capzol<br />
Compud<br />
Llagos<br />
CHIMBORAZO<br />
San Antonio<br />
Gral. Morales<br />
Chontamarca Suscal<br />
Rio Cañar<br />
Gualleturo<br />
Zhud<br />
Juncal<br />
Cañar<br />
Chorocopte<br />
El Tambo<br />
Ingapirca<br />
Honorato Vásquez<br />
CAÑAR<br />
[<br />
Water is to the earth<br />
like blood to the humans ]
The Cañaris<br />
18<br />
A landscape is more than topography, mountains and rivers.<br />
Almost every piece of land in the world is intimately related to the<br />
lives of the people who make a living there. Those who named the<br />
Cañar river – the Cañaris – constitute the most distinguished group<br />
of people inhabiting the river basin. Before the Inca invasion, 7 Cañari<br />
was the greatest culture existing in what is now Ecuador. Few traces<br />
remain of the original Cañari culture. The language has disappeared,<br />
and only a few words and customs remain, together with a wealth of<br />
orally transmitted legends and a few archaeological sites.<br />
The Cañaris were divided into a series of independent lordships,<br />
curacazgos. The names remain – Checa, Sigsig, Molleturo,<br />
Cañaribamba and of course Hatun Cañar, apparently the most<br />
important of them all. Cañari society was highly stratified, a fact<br />
reflected by the great wealth of the furnishings of Cañari noble<br />
tombs. Gold and silver came from richly endowed mines within<br />
their territory. 8<br />
Spanish chroniclers mention with awe the Cañaris<br />
valiant and bellicose nature, honed through<br />
constant skirmishes with their neighbours.<br />
In particular, the Spaniards mention<br />
that the Cañaris did not have slaves.<br />
They were distinguished from other<br />
peoples by their language, their way of<br />
dressing and that both women and<br />
men wore their hair very long. The<br />
chroniclers also stressed that there<br />
were more Cañari women than men. Cieza<br />
de León, who visited the territory in 1547,<br />
found 15 women to every man. Ferocious bloodletting<br />
had befallen the Cañaris after the Inca invasion.<br />
Under the Duma, probably a title given to the curaca of Sigsig, the<br />
Cañaris fought against superior odds before being subdued. The<br />
Inca Topa Yupanqui attempted to smash Cañari opposition by removing<br />
the populations of whole villages to the neighbourhood of Cuzco,<br />
replacing them with loyal mitamakuna. The mitamakuna were<br />
Mythic figure of<br />
the Cañari culture<br />
with human, feline, snake<br />
and eagle features
colonists from the Peruvian heartland who settled in occupied territories.<br />
They maintained their ties with their original homeland,<br />
thus forming a nucleus loyal to the state in the midst of foreign<br />
ethnic groups. The imperial policy speeded up the process of<br />
Cañari acculturation, evidenced by the fact that by the arrival of<br />
the Spaniards the Cañaris already spoke Quichua, the language of<br />
the Inca conquerors. The Inca presence is still visible through the<br />
remains of the mighty Ingañan, the paved Inca highway that cuts<br />
through desolate plains high up in the Andes. Within the Cañar<br />
river basin, the Ingañan passes close by the village of Ingapirca,<br />
which lies beneath a combined fortress and temple. An impressive<br />
structure, built with Inca stone masonry techniques using 'cushionshaped'<br />
boulders, Ingapirca is well preserved and Ecuador's most<br />
prestigious Inca site. It was probably built in connection with earlier<br />
Cañari structures, perhaps the political and cult centre of<br />
Hatun Cañar.<br />
The Cañari people continued to suffer under Spanish rule. The<br />
remaining Cañari leaders opted for an alliance with the new<br />
invaders. On their way to conquer Quito, three thousand Cañari warriors<br />
joined the Spanish forces of Benalcázar. The Spaniards noted<br />
their allies’ exceptional bravery and later stated they would have<br />
been lost without their help and efficient guidance. The Cañaris<br />
fought alongside the Spanish throughout the conquest of Ecuador.<br />
The last big campaign they carried out for the Spaniards was the<br />
quelling of huge rebellions in Lita and Quilca in 1554. Nevertheless,<br />
Cañaris received scant recognition from the Spanish for their help.<br />
Already in 1544, many thousands had been forced to work in the gold<br />
and silver mines of their former territory. In 1578, the Spaniards<br />
ruthlessly suffocated a desperate Cañari rebellion. During that campaign<br />
the Spanish forces were helped by descendants of the same<br />
Incas they formerly had fought against with Cañari support. 9 At present,<br />
an estimated 40 000 Quichua-speaking Cañaris are scattered<br />
throughout the province of Cañar. 10<br />
19<br />
7<br />
8<br />
9<br />
10<br />
It was the Inca Topa Yupanqui that attacked the Cañari lands around 1463. With the<br />
fall of Quito in 1492, he finished the conquest of what is now the Ecuadorian Highlands.<br />
The Spanish conquest began in 1530; by 1549, the Spaniards had subjugated<br />
all ethnic groups of the present Highlands.<br />
Pérez et al. (1998), p. 29.<br />
For a summary of Cañari history, see Moreno Yánez (1996), pp. 96-100.<br />
Perrottet (1994), p. 220.
20<br />
With the recent revival of Cañari pride it is now common to hear<br />
the Cañaris recalling the glory of their ancestors, commonly referred<br />
to as the ‘grandfathers’. The names of Cañari warriors who opposed<br />
both Incas and Spaniards are often evoked in Cañari rhetoric and<br />
political discourse. Cañari pride is also evident from the fact that<br />
many of them elect to wear their traditional clothes and long guangos,<br />
the hair braids sported by both men and women.<br />
On market days, Saturdays in the town of Cañar, a great variety<br />
of traditional Cañari dress can be admired. Several men dress in<br />
kushma, a poncho for festive use, black, often knee-long, wool<br />
pants and white cotton shirts, with embroidery on the sleeves and<br />
collars. The women wear the colourful skirts common throughout<br />
the Andes. However, typical features of feminine Cañari dress are<br />
the embroidered blouses covered by a black, red-lined shoulder<br />
wrap. This woollen shawl is fastened by a silver tupu, an ornamented,<br />
thick dress needle often found in ancient Cañari tombs.<br />
Both men and women wear the typical Cañari hat, made of white<br />
felt, with a narrow brim often turned up at the front. Mentioning<br />
Cañari dress in relation to ethnic pride and self-expression is<br />
important, because it is often dress and not 'race' that determines<br />
an indigenous sense of belonging.<br />
The women of Cañar<br />
fasten their woollen shawls<br />
with a silver tupu
[<br />
Dress is an element of ethnic pride for the Cañari people ]
22<br />
My village was quite isolated and we did not see many white people.<br />
Everyone talked to one another in Quichua. It was only during<br />
market days, on Saturdays, when we walked in to Suscal,<br />
that you saw other people. It is still like that in many places. You<br />
work in the fields, or in your home, bringing down the produce<br />
of your land on market days. However, I went to school in Suscal<br />
and it was then I realized that there were different classes of people.<br />
We had to turn ourselves into mestizos in school and that<br />
meant we had to cut off the braid. Many Cañari boys and girls<br />
underwent a painful change in school. We were not allowed to<br />
speak Quichua and several of us were ashamed of our own traditions.<br />
I remember how I completely denied my parents for<br />
three days after cutting my braid and beginning school. When I<br />
was a young man studying to be a teacher, I also entered a profound<br />
identity crisis. Denying my roots completely, I did not<br />
want to be a runa. 11<br />
In 1971, I was the first indigenous person to attend the secondary<br />
school in Cañar. It was very hard for me. I felt apart and discriminated<br />
against. After the third course I left school. It was not<br />
voluntary. A female teacher told me I had to leave because I did<br />
not have a uniform. My parents could not afford to give me one.<br />
She knew that, but I had to leave anyway. I see her sometimes in<br />
the street. She knows I remember her. 12<br />
An area where the Cañari traditions are particular powerful is traditional<br />
medicine. The Upper Basin of the Cañar River Rural<br />
Development Project (CARC), discussed in this book, includes a small<br />
component aimed at instructing beneficiaries in the usefulness of several<br />
herbs and plants. This activity has proved to be useful in introducing<br />
people to the importance of preventive health care.<br />
11<br />
12<br />
13<br />
Interview with José Lema. Runa, the Quichua word for man, is often used in a derogatory<br />
way.<br />
Interview with Rebeca Pichazaea.<br />
Interview with Paola Guaman. The Rebeca mentioned in this quotation is Rebeca<br />
Pichazaea.
Medicines offered by the pharmacies are too expensive for us. One<br />
of my girls was very sick. One day I had to pay 60 000 sucres for<br />
medicine. Another day, 200 000 sucres. The doctor told me to buy<br />
the medicine; I did not know what it was. I know that pharmacy<br />
medicine is often necessary. However, if we cannot afford such<br />
medicine we have to use the knowledge our grandmothers passed<br />
down to us. They had knowledge and experience of their own.<br />
When things get really bad we have to go to the doctor, the pharmacy,<br />
the hospital. Rebeca helps us with her knowledge of western<br />
medicine. Nevertheless, she is also very knowledgeable about<br />
our own traditions. She has been taught in health centres. She<br />
knows about bleeding and childbirth. Our group of women meets<br />
with her and she tells us how to recognize the plants, how to grow<br />
them and where to sell them. I make some money out of it. I have<br />
had my gift, my knowledge, for many years. On Tuesdays and<br />
Fridays, people come to me to be cured. I know about bad air,<br />
fright, cold and many other visitations. I know how to cure them<br />
with herbs, baths, cleansing and massage. 13<br />
Acknowledgement of Cañari traditional medicinal knowledge is an<br />
important part of the agenda of several indigenous organizations.<br />
Cañari healers are called yachakes and may be men or women. There<br />
is an informal hierarchy of yachakes, who interact with one another.<br />
Some of them have apprentices. A common feature is that all<br />
yachakes consider themselves in the service of Pacha Kamak (God).<br />
In order to be effective in their cures they have to be bestowed with<br />
Pacha Kamak’s grace, i.e., have a calling.<br />
23<br />
José Lema<br />
interviews a Cañar<br />
farmer who wears<br />
the guango (braid)<br />
Knowledge of herbs<br />
and plants for medical<br />
purposes is part of the<br />
Cañari tradition
24<br />
Much of the traditional medicine centres on concepts concerning<br />
loss and gain of energy. Curative powers are invoked from Pacha<br />
Mama (Mother Earth) in the form of herbs and from Mama Killa<br />
(Mother Moon) and Taita Inte (Father Sun) in the form of healing<br />
rays. Healing is practised through massages, immersion in herbal<br />
baths, showering, 14 passing guinea pigs over afflicted areas, exposure<br />
to sun or moon, and the drinking of various herbal decoctions.<br />
Healing sessions are often carried out in the house of the yachak,<br />
but also in the few, prestigious houses of healing, jambi wasi.<br />
The headquarters of the Unión Provincial de Comunas y<br />
Cooperativas del Cañar (UPCCC), the most influential indigenous<br />
organization in Cañar, called Nucanchic Huasi, houses a recently<br />
constructed jambi wasi. A woman healer, Mercedes Chuma, attends<br />
patients on a daily basis. Besides serving as a centre for traditional<br />
medicine, UPCCC’s jambi wasi also functions as a place where serious<br />
diseases can be identified and patients passed on to modern<br />
health care. 15<br />
Any development project intent on interacting with Cañari culture<br />
should be inscribed within the Cañari landscape. To a large extent,<br />
the surrounding landscape conditions thinking and acting within<br />
traditional Cañari culture.<br />
14<br />
15<br />
16<br />
17<br />
18<br />
The yachak sprinkles agua ardiente (strong alcohol made from sugarcane), through<br />
his/her lips over the patient.<br />
Interview with Mercedes Chuma.<br />
Mummies were not buried in the ground, but placed in natural cavities. The cult of the<br />
dead had an enormous importance in Andean societies. Corpses, mallquí in Quichua,<br />
were considered to be intermediaries between huacas and the living. Huaca is anything<br />
endowed with spirtual force, like gods and spirits, but also mountains, lagoons and<br />
other powerful places and phenomena. As they were connected with huacas, it was<br />
natural to place the mallquís within the spiritual realm of the mountains (Bernand<br />
(1996), pp. 74-79).<br />
Landivar (1997), pp. 34-54.<br />
A Cañari author, Luis Bolivar Zaruma, seeks the roots for the Cañari tendency to individualize<br />
nature and natural phenomena in Quichua, the language spoken by Cañaris.<br />
“In this language, and others spoken on the American continent, the content, the meaning<br />
and what is indicated can only be described by using things in the real world.<br />
Occidental theology and philosophy were not assimilated by Cañaris because Quichua<br />
is a concrete language consisting of concrete symbols describing the world and<br />
things; there does not exist a capacity for abstraction” (Bolivar Zaruma (1980), p. 25).
Mountains: Realm of Power<br />
Andean peoples have always looked to the mountains with awe and<br />
veneration. Mummies wrapped in precious clothing may still be<br />
found among Andean peaks, remains of human sacrifices to the<br />
Mountain-Lords. 16 Legends are constantly spun of the mountains.<br />
They are said to be inhabited by imaginary creatures, half beasts,<br />
half humans, vengeful and threatening, constantly thirsting for<br />
human blood. The list of such monsters is long and intimidating:<br />
gagones (demon dogs), carbuclos (demon cats), shiros (malevolent<br />
dwarfs hunting for women), cuscungus (birds of prey announcing<br />
death), chuzalongos (blood sucking children), agcha shuas (werewolves),<br />
mama huacas (female man chasers) and many more. 17<br />
Mountains are often described as individuals, ancient, mighty and<br />
difficult to comprehend. 18 Like benevolent parents, they watch over<br />
the tiny hamlets and towns that huddle in their shadows. Mountains<br />
send <strong>water</strong> to the people, and conceal treasures in their depths. If<br />
sometimes they are benevolent, at other times they are capricious<br />
and dangerous, hurling disasters over defenceless humans in the<br />
form of hurricanes, landslides, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes.<br />
“Urcu signifies mountain, chuncana play and cui comes from take<br />
care of or deliver. Thus, urcu chuncanacui signifies a game of give<br />
and take between the mountains. During nights well lit by the moon,<br />
when yellow lightning appears among the mountain peaks, it is<br />
believed that the mountains are exchanging treasures and animals<br />
between themselves. The mountain Taita Bueran is believed to have<br />
six children, but he is separated from them by his spouse, the mountain<br />
Hacron Ventanas; it appears as if those two quarrel quite a lot.<br />
25<br />
Mountains have <strong>water</strong><br />
and conceal treasures<br />
in their depths
It is thus that the mountains in general are deeply respected and<br />
much is expected from them. For example, many people are afraid to<br />
approach the mountain Culebrillas with dried or cold meat, because<br />
they say this may raise the Hurricane from the páramo, high moor,<br />
thus not allowing entrance to anyone”. 19<br />
High moors are wide plains situated from 3 000 to 4 200 m and covered<br />
with a yellowish grass used to feed cattle and sheep. In the<br />
Cañar area, many high moors are common lands, owned and used by<br />
members of communities further down in the valleys.<br />
Culebrillas: Where the Water Is Born<br />
26<br />
The high moor surrounding the mysterious lagoon of Culebrillas is<br />
jointly owned and used by four communities within the El Tambo<br />
canton. This tranquil lake is situated at 3 880 m, in the shadow of the<br />
impressive Yanaurcu, the Black Mountain. 20 It appears to be a barren<br />
land, but several traces of ancient civilizations are located there.<br />
The Ingañan passes close to the lake. This highway was originally<br />
paved and maintained all the way from Cuzco to Quito. Among the<br />
remains of this road, several stones indicate the site of a tambo, a<br />
kind of inn or resting-place for the travellers who passed along the<br />
Ingañan.<br />
South of the lagoon is a flat area with a quarry, called<br />
Labrazhcarrumi by the locals. Labrazhcarrumi consists of some huge<br />
rectangular boulders spread over an area of about 100 km 2 . The purpose<br />
of these stone blocks is unknown. However, people used to<br />
19<br />
20<br />
21<br />
Castro Muyancela (1995), pp. 314-15. Manuel Castro Muyancela is the newly elected<br />
mayor of Suscal and an influential indigenous politician at the national level. “The<br />
Hurricane” is the personification of the violent storms that brew high up in the mountains.<br />
Pinos & Rodríguez (1994), p. 1, and Heriberto Rojas (1991), pp. 19-20.<br />
The legend is retold with the help of stories told by Rebeca Pichazaea and Francisco<br />
Chimboroza.
elieve that the Incas cut them in order to dam the lagoon. Even if<br />
people lived and worked here 500 years ago, it is now a very desolate<br />
place. A spectacular landscape, inhospitable and mysterious, and<br />
chilled by mountain mists, it is the natural centre of a web of legends,<br />
known in innumerable versions by almost any Cañari.<br />
“A soldier married a fair maiden. However, unknown to him, she<br />
had been up in Cullebrillas. An enormous serpent living in the lake<br />
had seen her there. The terrible creature had fallen in love with the<br />
maiden and wanted to keep her to himself. On the wedding day, the<br />
serpent broke into the house where the celebrations took place,<br />
snatched the bride and brought her up to his lair at the bottom of the<br />
lagoon. The infuriated groom armed himself with a spear and an axe<br />
and followed in the tracks of the snake. He found his bride by the<br />
shore of the lagoon. The huge serpent had his coils around her, while<br />
he rested his head on her lap. The bride made a sign to her spouse.<br />
Obeying her, he hid behind a stone while she sang a lullaby to the serpent.<br />
When the animal had fallen asleep, the spouse came forth and<br />
plunged his spear into it. The frenzied serpent wriggled and spat<br />
venom, but the valiant soldier cut off its head. In death agony, the serpent<br />
left the lakeside. It slithered away to the south, opening up the<br />
earth with its heavy body. Thus the serpent created the course and<br />
meanders of the stream Culebrillas, the stream that feeds the <strong>water</strong><br />
of the lagoon into the river of San Antonio. Since that day, the <strong>water</strong><br />
of the mountains reaches the entire region of El Tambo. The lady<br />
eventually gave birth to a white child, the son of the serpent. Since<br />
this boy did not belong anywhere, he caused a lot of trouble”. 21<br />
27<br />
Lagoon of<br />
Culebrillas<br />
People used to believe that<br />
rectangular boulders were cut<br />
by the Incas to dam the lagoon
28<br />
This legend reflects several popular ideas about the high moor, an<br />
abode of sacha (the unknown, the savage) as opposed to uca (the<br />
familiar, the tangible). The high moor constitutes a twilight zone<br />
between the wild and the domesticated. The <strong>water</strong> is born there, but<br />
also storms and diseases. The high moor is the realm of children and<br />
women. They are the ones who tend the sheep and collect the grass<br />
found there. Children are also related to the high moor in a symbolic<br />
way. Adolescents in particular find themselves in a threshold<br />
between the world of adults and infants. Accordingly, they have<br />
something in common with the high moor, placed as it is between the<br />
inhospitable mountain peaks and the tended fields. Women are also<br />
symbolically connected with the high moor, since they are considered<br />
more of a part of nature than men are. This is probably due to<br />
their role as lifebringers and nurturers, something that connects<br />
them with Pacha Mama (Mother Earth). 22<br />
The serpent the woman of the legend met in Culebrillas is probably<br />
related to the most feared phenomenon in Cañari mythology, the<br />
serpent of the sky – Taita Cuichi (Father Rainbow), harbinger of<br />
both life and destruction. Taita Cuichi lives by lakes. He always has<br />
one foot in the <strong>water</strong>. When threatened he disappears into the lake,<br />
leaving a column of smoke behind him. The one who breathes in that<br />
smoke will suffer from cuichi japischca (capture of the rainbow), a<br />
deadly disease that must be treated immediately through herbal<br />
potions and curative baths. 23<br />
[<br />
The real wealth of the<br />
lagoon is the <strong>water</strong> ]
There are several kinds of rainbows and they cause various diseases.<br />
The worst affliction is when Taita Cuichi takes a woman, i.e.<br />
makes her pregnant. The affected woman then suffers intense<br />
headaches, pains in the legs and arms, nausea and stomach-ache.<br />
The woman contaminated by the seed of Taita Cuichi has to eat bitter<br />
herbs in order to vomit the uninvited intrusion. Fear of Taita<br />
Cuichi is very strong in certain areas of Cañar. He is often called the<br />
Devil dressed in colours. It has been speculated that the strange perceptions<br />
regarding Taita Cuichi are the result of a mixture of old pre-<br />
Columbian myth and more recent facts and life experiences. For<br />
example, the child of Taita Cuichi is always white and this may indicate<br />
the unwanted result of a forced relationship with the former<br />
masters of the area, Spanish intruders and/or the owners of the<br />
land. 24 However, the serpent of Culebrillas is not only a sinister creature;<br />
he is also the guardian of treasures:<br />
They say there is a treasure resting at the bottom of the lagoon.<br />
Heavy beams of pure gold were sunk there by our ancestors, probably<br />
as sacrifices to their gods. A few years ago our communities<br />
kept a guard up there [at Culebrillas]. He was well paid, but one<br />
day he disappeared and was never seen again. People assume he<br />
found the treasure, or part of it, and simply ran away with it. He<br />
probably left for the United States or Europe. 25<br />
Even if there is a lot of talk about the hidden treasures of the lagoon,<br />
people are well aware that the real wealth of the place is not gold or<br />
silver, but <strong>water</strong>. Taita Cuichi’s main function is to protect <strong>water</strong> and<br />
fertility and bestow it on humans. However, every farmer in Cañar<br />
knows that the thorny issue of access to <strong>water</strong> has to be handled with<br />
care and tact. Anyone who interferes with a <strong>water</strong> source like<br />
Culebrillas is destined to get into trouble. Taita Cuichi’s legendary<br />
presence can be seen as a warning. Be careful when you deal with<br />
the <strong>water</strong>s of Cañar. You do not know what hidden powers and buried<br />
conflicts you may uncover.<br />
29<br />
22<br />
23<br />
24<br />
25<br />
Bernal et al. (1999), pp. 49-51.<br />
Landívar (1997), pp. 37-39 and Einzmann and Almeida (1991), pp. 92-93.<br />
Einzmann and Almeida (1991), pp. 93.<br />
Interview with Manuel Zaruma, of Molino Huayco, who accompanied us to Culebrillas.
Culebrillas is one of the main <strong>water</strong> sources of the Cañari basin. It<br />
is the birth place of the San Antonio River, which eventually joins<br />
with the Cañar River after delivering <strong>water</strong> to no less than 14 irrigation<br />
canals, providing <strong>water</strong> to 2 639 hectares in the cantons of El<br />
Tambo and Juncal, thereby benefiting 1 100 families. 26 The lagoon of<br />
Culebrillas feeds other <strong>water</strong> systems as well, and the construction<br />
of an efficient dam by the lake would benefit even more people,<br />
bringing a constant flow of <strong>water</strong> to huge areas of dry land.<br />
Water and Development<br />
30<br />
Agriculture occupies a prominent position in all debates concerning<br />
development policies. Food production is not a simple question of profitability;<br />
it is a burning social issue. Although a country may profit from<br />
producing agricultural goods for international markets, this does not necessarily<br />
solve problems related to providing food for a starving population.<br />
An efficient agricultural sector that benefits both small and big producers<br />
may facilitate a more just and equal distribution of a nation’s wealth. It<br />
may stem the migratory flow from rural areas and probably raise living<br />
standards, efficiency, freedom of choice and the well-being of a large rural<br />
population.<br />
Compared with many other countries, Ecuador is endowed with a good<br />
share of natural resources, not only precious metals and oil, but also a conducive<br />
environment for efficient agricultural production. The country has<br />
benefited from the growth of export markets for products such as bananas,<br />
cocoa, shrimp and other items. This production from the coastal plains has<br />
received support from the nation’s decision-makers. The development and<br />
growth of other coastal products, like rice, maize and soybeans, also benefit<br />
from various kinds of state support. In mountain areas, milk production<br />
has been modernized completely while state support has enabled both<br />
local and imported technologies to be purchased.
Nevertheless, most small producers in the Highlands have not been able<br />
to benefit from any investments aimed at increasing production. Food production<br />
for national consumption cannot meet demand; in several rural<br />
areas, there has even been a drop in production. In the Cañar area, products<br />
such as wheat, which once was a main crop, have lost importance primarily<br />
due to state-subsidized imports.<br />
International development agencies, as well as some government institutions<br />
and non-governmental organizations (NGOs), have tried to counter<br />
this deteriorating situation. Numerous experiments and investigations<br />
have been carried out. Annual reports seem to concur that efficient irrigation<br />
is the most critical concern of Andean farmers. 27<br />
Irrigation systems have existed in Ecuador since pre-Columbian times.<br />
However, until 1944, irrigation was developed exclusively through private<br />
initiatives. In that year, a National Office for Irrigation (ONR) was founded.<br />
In 1966, ONR was replaced by the Ecuadorian Institute for Hydraulic<br />
Resources (INERHI), which plans and builds irrigation projects in addition<br />
to monitoring and overseeing the use of <strong>water</strong> resources. 28<br />
Any person familiar with <strong>water</strong> management at the grass-roots level<br />
knows that huge investments in irrigation inevitably face a wide range of<br />
problems. INERHI-executed projects have often encountered serious problems,<br />
mainly owing to a lack of cooperation from farmer communities.<br />
Conflicts have frequently arisen among beneficiaries. Lack of organization<br />
among irrigation users has inhibited efficient <strong>water</strong> management. Bad<br />
maintenance has destroyed valuable infrastructure. The so-called tertiary<br />
systems, small canals reaching the farmers’ plots, have often not been built,<br />
since such work requires efficient organization among beneficiaries. 29<br />
Water management calls for discipline, solidarity and social skills.<br />
Cement and good engineering are not enough to create functional irrigation<br />
systems. Cooperation among all the parties involved is essential.<br />
Openness and social skills are probably the most decisive factors in makeing<br />
irrigation systems effective.<br />
31<br />
26<br />
27<br />
28<br />
29<br />
DHV Consultants (1995), p. 165.<br />
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), pp. 224-27. Thirty-one per cent of the cultivable land is<br />
irrigated. Thirty per cent of this <strong>water</strong> is used by more than 70% of the agriculturists,<br />
while 70% is used by big plantations (Cisneros et al. (1999), p. 5).<br />
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), p. 228.<br />
Ibid., p. 270. In 1994, INERHI was replaced by the National Council for Hydraulic<br />
Resources (CNRH) (Cisneros et al.) (1999), p. 5. The Ecuadorian State has initiated a<br />
process of institutional transformation, delegating several formerly state-controlled<br />
activities to municipalities, NGOs, civil society and the private sector. INERHI (CNRH)<br />
has on several occasions been mentioned as one of the organizations that ought to be<br />
removed from state control (<strong>IFAD</strong> (1995), p. 20).
[<br />
There was a lack of communication between planners and future beneficiaries ]
Cañari Development Initiatives<br />
The Cañari people are not without a voice. Decades of political<br />
struggle have given rise to several organizations that are firmly rooted<br />
within their communities. On the agenda of all these organizations<br />
is the search for institutions and agencies willing to provide<br />
financing and assistance to rural development projects. During the<br />
1980s, plans to support agricultural projects were developed<br />
between grass-roots organizations and a regional development<br />
agency, the Centre for Economic Re-Conversion of Azuay, Cañar and<br />
Morona Santiago (CREA).<br />
In 1980, just after the reintroduction of a democratic government,<br />
30 rural development issues were again addressed and the<br />
Ecuadorian State declared it was prepared to: “...apply an integrated<br />
concept while attending to problems related to the peasantry, proposing<br />
dynamic participation from peasants in order to transcend<br />
simple, technical, production-oriented solutions”. 31<br />
CREA was established in 1958 in response to a crisis that hit the<br />
production of exclusive, so-called Panama straw hats, which was<br />
concentrated in the province of Cañar. 32 A sudden drop in demand<br />
affected 100 000 people engaged in this artisan activity. CREA’s main<br />
function is to participate in the planning of regional development<br />
projects in the provinces of Cañar, Azuay and Morona Santiago. It<br />
coordinates the development initiatives of national and international<br />
agencies operating in the area. CREA also executes rural projects<br />
in its own right or in direct association with other entities (both private<br />
and public). 33<br />
33<br />
30<br />
31<br />
32<br />
33<br />
From 1963 to 1965, Ecuador was governed by the military, and from 1966 to 1968, the<br />
country had an acting president, who had not been elected through general elections.<br />
In 1968, José Maria Velasco Ibarra was elected president for the fifth time. In 1972, he<br />
was ousted from power by the military, which ruled the country until 1979.<br />
Government resolution quoted in de Janvry and Glikman (1991), p. 209.<br />
These hats originated in Ecuador, but got their name because they became popular<br />
among the builders of the Panama Canal. From 1898, US troops fighting in tropical<br />
wars were equipped with Ecuadorian Panama-hats (50 000 hats were issued to soldiers<br />
who fought in the Caribbean and The Philippines). The industry peaked in 1946<br />
when 5 million hats were exported, constituting 20% of Ecuador’s annual export earnings.<br />
Then the fashion gradually changed, leading to severe crisis by the end of the<br />
1950s (Perrottet (1994), pp. 131-33).<br />
de Janvry and Glikman (1991), pp. 283-85.
34<br />
In 1982, CREA approached the Ecuadorian government with a proposal<br />
for future cooperation with <strong>IFAD</strong> within the Cañar area. 34 In<br />
1987, an <strong>IFAD</strong> mission identified the province of Cañar as a priority<br />
area for implementing a possible rural development programme with<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong> funding. The process of elaboration was concluded in 1990 by<br />
an <strong>IFAD</strong> appraisal mission, which presented a report that formed the<br />
basis for a loan agreement signed by <strong>IFAD</strong> and the Ecuadorian<br />
Government. In 1992, the Government of The Netherlands agreed to<br />
cofinance the project. Despite this long and complicated process,<br />
the CARC project ran into serious problems even before it got started.<br />
The project was supposed to address a wide range of issues related<br />
to agricultural production.<br />
“The principal objective of the project is a significant improvement<br />
of the real wages of the small agriculturists of the upper basin<br />
of the Cañar River through the introduction of irrigation and adequate<br />
technology for a productive development of their farms”. 35<br />
Accordingly, several components were integrated from the start:<br />
credit, technical assistance, infrastructure, organization of agriculturists<br />
and productive activities of women. However, it was repeatedly<br />
stressed that the core of the programme would be irrigation.<br />
“This component [the construction and rehabilitation of irrigation<br />
systems] is the fundamental activity above which all other elements<br />
of the project are constructed. In fact, it is only after incorporating<br />
irrigation in adequate measures with a significant geographical reach<br />
that it will be possible to introduce new technologies and necessary<br />
practices to raise agricultural production for the beneficiaries”. 36<br />
The thorny issue of irrigation eventually caused feelings to run<br />
high within the proposed project area. The storm centre was<br />
Culebrillas, mystical abode of Taita Cuichi, birthplace of most of the<br />
Cañari <strong>water</strong>s.<br />
34<br />
35<br />
36<br />
37<br />
38<br />
39<br />
Pinos and Rodríguez (1994), p. 21.<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong> (1990), p. 63.<br />
Ibid., p. 69.<br />
Quoted in Villarroel, G. (1992).<br />
<strong>IFAD</strong> (1990), pp. 69-70.<br />
Villarroel, G. (1992). A parish is the administrative unit below a province. Suscal is now<br />
a province. Before El Tambo and Suscal were cantonized, the province of Cañar included<br />
14 parishes. Now, 12 parishes operate under Cañar, while the provinces of El Tambo<br />
and Suscal are situated like islands within the much bigger province of Cañar. The<br />
province mayors are elected in general elections, while the political deputies that govern<br />
the parishes are appointed by the Government.
The Initial Proposal<br />
In 1992, it was stated that “one of the most important works<br />
around which the development project for Cañari peasants revolves<br />
is the construction of Culebrillas dam”. 37 The <strong>IFAD</strong> appraisal mission<br />
in 1990 described the damming up of Culebrillas in the following<br />
way:<br />
“The sub-system of Culebrillas implies the construction of a 14 m<br />
high and 72 m long earthen dike that will create a dam above the<br />
mentioned lagoon and endow its outlet (San Antonio River) with a<br />
capacity of 10.5 cubic hectometres. These regulatory works will, on<br />
the one hand, permit a maximal flow of 680 litres/second to the subsystem<br />
of El Tambo, which furthermore will be significantly amplified<br />
(991 additional ha) through the prolongation with 4 km of the<br />
principal canal (Canal Coronel); on the other hand, additional <strong>water</strong><br />
will be directed towards a new principal canal...permitting the irrigation<br />
of around 777 ha within the areas of Juncal, Suscal and<br />
Chontamarca”. 38<br />
Two years later, it was thought that: “It [Culebrillas system]<br />
will…permit the storage of 7 million cubic metres of winter <strong>water</strong><br />
that could be used during summer to irrigate 2 700 ha of land<br />
through a network of improved canals and the construction of a new<br />
one towards the parish of Suscal”. 39<br />
Preliminary studies of this dam and its connected networks of<br />
canals were made by CREA, the Inter-American Institute for<br />
Cooperation on Agriculture (IICA), INERHI and Latinoconsult, an<br />
Argentine consultancy firm. CREA would be responsible for the irrigation<br />
component of the CARC project, while INERHI would provide<br />
technical assistance and be in charge of all construction works related<br />
to irrigation.<br />
35<br />
[<br />
The thorny issue<br />
of irrigation ]
36<br />
It was an ambitious project. However, it was too much of a blueprint<br />
solution. The project was based on concrete. All thinking<br />
was concerned with cement. They planned building the dam and<br />
the canals, forgetting the fact that irrigation is not only a question<br />
of providing more <strong>water</strong>. It is essentially a question of providing<br />
good management. You have to organize the use of the <strong>water</strong><br />
upstream and all the way down. An issue involving human relations.<br />
The <strong>water</strong> associations did already exist, but they were not<br />
involved in the planning process. Therefore, the conflict did not<br />
come as a surprise. 40<br />
Four different irrigation systems were planned. However, it was the<br />
plans for Culebrillas that raised fierce opposition, probably because<br />
14 existing canals were going to be affected. A new canal meant that<br />
all 14 canals were going to be reorganized. Current canal users felt<br />
excluded from the entire planning process. They feared that traditional<br />
access to older irrigation systems was severely threatened,<br />
and were convinced they would lose <strong>water</strong> through project innovations.<br />
The situation was worsened by plans to distribute <strong>water</strong> from<br />
Culebrillas to the area of Suscal. Even though the proposed dam in<br />
Culebrillas had more than enough capacity to feed both irrigation<br />
systems, users of the existing canals calculated that the new systems<br />
would make everything worse. Since the new systems would be much<br />
bigger than the older ones, the original users of the Culebrilla <strong>water</strong><br />
assumed that meant less <strong>water</strong> for everyone. Didn't the introduction<br />
of a new canal to Suscal run the risk that El Tambo would lose much<br />
of its <strong>water</strong>?<br />
The project CARC had decided to make the dam. Nothing else; it<br />
was news to us. Suddenly the fact was there. A certain engineer<br />
Carran explained that the <strong>water</strong> was going to Suscal. All <strong>water</strong><br />
was going to be assembled in one canal, the Canal Coronel. We<br />
thought that meant no <strong>water</strong> to El Tambo. There was talk of rebellion,<br />
of suing CARC and all agencies involved. 41<br />
40<br />
41<br />
42<br />
43<br />
44<br />
Interview with Rudolf Mulder, Dutch Co-Director to CARC.<br />
Interview with Julián Guaman, president of the <strong>water</strong> committee of the Canal Cachi-<br />
Banco Romerino Pillocapata.<br />
León (1993), pp. 1-3.<br />
Interview with Daniel Rodríguez, former mayor of El Tambo.<br />
Interview with Abelina Morocho Pinguil. She presently serves as mayor in Suscal, but<br />
was born in El Tambo, where she still works on her father’s land. She married in Suscal,<br />
where she also has land. She is evidently familiar with irrigation problems in both areas.
The desperate rumour was disseminated throughout the parish of<br />
El Tambo: They are going to take the <strong>water</strong> from us. The development<br />
agencies tried their best to assure the people of El Tambo that<br />
the opposite was true: Every one was going to benefit from a dam in<br />
Culebrillas. But to no avail. It was too late. The irrigation users in El<br />
Tambo had not been sufficiently involved in the planning process<br />
and it was now too late to do anything about it. The conflict appeared<br />
to be inevitable. 42<br />
There were a lot of expectations. So much money had not been<br />
invested in the area before. Quality of life and production would<br />
be better. However, when the problems were identified, there was a<br />
lack of communication between planners and future beneficiaries.<br />
Few organizations and communities were consulted here in<br />
El Tambo and they were not at all involved in the planning<br />
process. The technicians worked for themselves and they were not<br />
guided by an integrated vision. When people heard that the dam<br />
of Culebrillas was going to feed a new canal besides the already<br />
existing 14 ones, they panicked, fearing they were going to lose<br />
their <strong>water</strong>. 43<br />
I do not understand why they did not talk more to us, after all it<br />
was we who used the <strong>water</strong>. We, and our fathers, knew everything<br />
about problems related to irrigation systems. It is our life. Every<br />
day we work with the <strong>water</strong>. Of course we could have contributed<br />
a lot of experience and knowledge. In such sensitive matters one<br />
has to start with a dialogue. However, traditionally, things have<br />
always been done above our heads. 44<br />
37<br />
[<br />
They are going to take<br />
the <strong>water</strong> from us ]
38<br />
A report from a technical adviser from the University of Cuenca<br />
stressed the apparent lack of socio-economic insights in the original<br />
proposal:<br />
“In the information [presented to the coordinator of the Technical<br />
Commission of the Faculty of Engineering at the University of<br />
Cuenca], there is no analysis of social and ethnic conflicts between<br />
communities and parishes within the project area. In our opinion,<br />
these problems must be highlighted, considering existing<br />
antecedents and the various and contradictory reactions of communities<br />
and social sectors when confronted with the project plans. …<br />
Within the contemporary framework of development efforts incorporating<br />
cultural and ecological dimensions, a comprehensive<br />
investigation of such matters is indispensable; conflicts are due to<br />
arise from such an approach; it is inevitable, but it is necessary. It<br />
is possible that the omission [of such a thorough study of social<br />
realities] is a manifestation of the general flavour of the documents<br />
we have been presented with, namely a sociological treatment of the<br />
area as if it is homogenous…; the existing, diversified socio-economic<br />
reality is not captured from the angle of the population’s view<br />
of territorial occupation. Furthermore, we want to draw attention to<br />
the need to engage, in a direct and innovative way, the project’s<br />
future beneficiaries in discussions and decision-making, abandoning<br />
paternalistic and vertical interventions common among public<br />
and private entities”. 45<br />
Conflict!<br />
Both the local and national press covered the build-up of various<br />
conflicts triggered by the planned damming up of Culebrillas. “You<br />
might call it the Lagoon of Discord, because it has lately caused so<br />
much polemics”. 46 Already in 1989, when the plans were still under<br />
elaboration, opinions about the dam in Culebrillas started to be<br />
voiced through the press. After the presentation of the <strong>IFAD</strong> appraisal<br />
mission report in 1990, the debate got heated, giving rise to oratorical<br />
expositions and insults from supporters and opponents:<br />
45 Alemida Durán (1990).<br />
46 Villarroel G. (1992).
40<br />
“We [the Cañaris] were the first to fight the forces of Topa<br />
Yupanqui. We made war against the invading forces of Huáscar and<br />
Atahualpa. We were fooled by the Spaniards’ false tongues. We hid<br />
the treasures and gathered our people on the frozen high moors,<br />
where we have lived since those days, excluded from everything,<br />
without the possibilities to create our own future – the imperative<br />
voice of Inti came to me and my mind grew heavy. This is the moment<br />
to put ourselves together and bring forth our people. It is necessary<br />
to make a decision and support this action [the damming of<br />
Culebrillas], because it is about having enough <strong>water</strong> for irrigation<br />
the year round, thus our culivations will not die.” 47<br />
“The attitudes assumed by the representatives of anti-culture in<br />
order to prove themselves to be executives, active people, workers,<br />
force them to use sophisms and lies. They are actively trying to<br />
destroy the prehistory and history of Ecuador.... As in a state of<br />
trance they want to realize their plans, ignoring the opposition and<br />
disapproval of the country and the scientific and edifying world of<br />
culture. On the dam they want to construct in Culebrillas, one detail<br />
is missing, the plaque that says: This is the work of ignorant people<br />
and illiterates.” 48<br />
In the beginning, opposition to the project was restricted to people<br />
wishing to protect the archaeological vestiges and natural beauty of<br />
Culebrillas. These defenders of Culebrillas were mainly ‘outsiders’<br />
from the traditional Cañari point of view, since most of them were<br />
townspeople from the provincial capital Azogues and the big town of<br />
Cuenca, farther to the south.<br />
A dam would raise the <strong>water</strong> level and flood the Labrazhcarrumi,<br />
the remains of the Inca quarry found there. The technicians suggested<br />
that the stones could be removed to another place, like Abu<br />
Simbel in Egypt. Nevertheless, that solution did not satisfy the<br />
47<br />
48<br />
49<br />
50<br />
Paulina Ati, quoted by Torres (1990). The people mentioned in the quotation are Incas<br />
who headed conquering troops from the south before the arrival of the Spanish. Inti is<br />
the sun god.<br />
Egues (1990).<br />
Interview with Father Víctor Vásquez, parish priest in Suscal.<br />
León (1993), p. 3.
opponents, who stressed that the entire environment surrounding<br />
the lake was unique and any encroachment would be disastrous.<br />
These arguments were received with anger and desperation by the<br />
intended beneficiaries of the improved irrigation systems:<br />
It was a tragedy. They could have removed the stones. I don’t<br />
believe they are as valuable as they say. In any case they have not<br />
done anything to protect them after all those tensions, all these<br />
efforts to block the project. They wronged us badly. It was a big loss<br />
for us and we still suffer from it. That <strong>water</strong> could have helped<br />
hundreds of families. The drought still plagues us down here. 49<br />
While visiting Culebrillas a Cañari shepherd, dressed in sheepskin<br />
chaps and carrying a whip with a long wooden handle, gave an original<br />
argument for building the dam:<br />
I believe the stones quarried in Labrazhcarrumi were used to dam<br />
Culebrillas. Our grandfathers knew how to do such things. Build<br />
dams and construct irrigation canals and they did it to benefit<br />
people like us, the peasants. They cared for their people. If we<br />
build a dam up here now, it will surely become an archaeological<br />
site in the future. Just like this Labrazhcarrumi. So why not do it?<br />
The people in the future will say that we cared for one another,<br />
building dams and canals.<br />
The conflict hardened when the archaeologists and their supporters<br />
presented Culebrillas plans to various leaders of the province of El<br />
Tambo. 50 By 1992, the majority of the inhabitants of the parish of El<br />
Tambo had been mobilized against the project and opposition started<br />
to become more militant than before. On 27 November 1992, an<br />
official delegation including the project director, the governor of<br />
Cañar, the mayor of Azogues and representatives of <strong>IFAD</strong> and CREA<br />
went up to Culebrillas to discuss the dam construction. Suddenly<br />
41<br />
The natural beauty<br />
of Culebrillas
42<br />
they were surrounded by 400 persons; at the end of four hours, the<br />
state officials were forced to sign a document promising not to build<br />
the dam. However, on their way down to El Tambo, the delegation was<br />
stopped by another group of armed farmers, this time from Suscal.<br />
The same scene was repeated, and the Suscal farmers forced the delegation<br />
to sign a document promising that the dam would be built. 51<br />
After they had achieved what they wanted and the delegation had<br />
left, the two groups ran into one another. During the late afternoon,<br />
armed encounters between the farmers of El Tambo and Suscal<br />
occurred close to the lagoon. As a consequence of these skirmishes<br />
various people were wounded. 52<br />
It was a big delegation. No less than 15 cars took us to Culebrillas.<br />
Up there, we were received by Antonio Carillo, the archaeologist<br />
from Cuenca, and two of his colleagues from Quito. Together with<br />
him were representatives of the communes who control the land<br />
up there. People from Sumi Corral, within the commune of Sigsig.<br />
Just after the discussions begun, hundreds of people descended<br />
from the mountains. Most of them were on horseback and several<br />
carried sticks and machetes. Some were even armed with shotguns.<br />
It was like a western movie. Their leaders carried with them<br />
a document and after long and violent discussions they forced us<br />
to sign it. They spread it out on the front of one of the cars. The<br />
violent arguing went on from ten o’clock in the morning until<br />
four in the afternoon. All the time we were frightened, surrounded<br />
as we were by armed and angry men. They tried to beat up<br />
one of the technicians who looked like Luis Chimbo. Luis is an<br />
indigenous person from El Tambo that worked as a driver for us.<br />
[<br />
Water led to encounters<br />
between farmers of<br />
El Tambo and Suscal ]<br />
Remigio Padrón,<br />
present director of<br />
the CARC project
Several of the project’s opponents considered him to be a traitor<br />
and tried to get hold of him. Shaken by this very unpleasant experience<br />
we drove down to El Tambo. The two archaeologists from<br />
Quito, who belonged to the opposing group, followed us down to<br />
the Inter-American highway. There we were intercepted by a large<br />
group of people from Suscal. They were very upset and immediately<br />
attacked the archaeologists. A huge tumult developed while<br />
we tried to defend the poor guys. After things had calmed down a<br />
bit, we were forced to drive to Suscal, where another document<br />
was signed. This time stating that the dam had to be built. Not<br />
until midnight were we able to return to Cañar. 53<br />
These incidents were the culmination of tensions that had been<br />
building for a long time. People working for the project finally decided<br />
to meet with several of El Tambo’s most extreme opponents to the<br />
plans to dam Culebrillas.<br />
The situation was very tense. Opponents kidnapped technicians<br />
and kept them locked up for several days. We received constant<br />
threats. In those days there were not more than two or three policemen<br />
in the entire area. When things got worse, the Government<br />
offered to bring in troops. However, we did not want to provoke<br />
any violent confrontations. Instead we initiated dialogues with the<br />
people in El Tambo. The most dramatic incident occurred when we<br />
united people in a place called La Granja de El Tambo. Things<br />
started to look really bad when we had made a short break in the<br />
discussions. Fifteen of us were taking coffee in a small house when<br />
it suddenly was surrounded by hundreds of people. Some of them<br />
entered and started to beat us up. Someone recognized me and<br />
pushed me against a wall, saying: We won’t hurt you if you keep<br />
quiet and don’t move. One of the technicians dashed out of the<br />
house and a group of angry attackers followed him to the car and<br />
started to beat the vehicle with sticks and machetes while he was sitting<br />
inside. Worse was the situation for Luis Chimbo: he was beaten<br />
brutally and everything would have ended very badly indeed if<br />
Jenny Campoverde had not been there. 54<br />
43<br />
51<br />
52<br />
53<br />
54<br />
El País (1992) and El Espectador (1992).<br />
El Espectador (1992).<br />
Interview with Remigio Padrón, present director of the CARC project.<br />
Ibid.
44<br />
Jenny Campoverde is a nurse who works for the CARC project in<br />
Suscal. A gentle woman, she now says she does not understand how<br />
she was able to act in the way she did back then:<br />
It was a group of at least 100 persons, headed by a fat, indigenous<br />
man armed with a machete. I did not know who he was. They<br />
started to scream at us. We were drinking coffee and were totally<br />
unprepared. The angry crowd rushed into the house, smashing<br />
chairs and tables, taking off the feet of the furniture and clubbing<br />
the men with them. It was awful. The house was crowded and outside<br />
people were pressing to get in. They shouted: We want the head<br />
of Luis Chimbo. One technician, Jacinto Caguana, was several<br />
times hit with the flat sides of machetes. They dragged Luis Chimbo<br />
outside. It was awful. Nasty. People were like paralysed by fear.<br />
Several of the men fled, one woman fainted. Then I saw they had<br />
carried with them a tank of gasoline. They were going to set Luis<br />
Chimbo on fire! It was incomprehensible and I became infuriated.<br />
I placed myself in front of them and shouted: How is it possible that<br />
you come here in such a state of mind? Get out of here! They<br />
became bewildered when they saw my strong reaction and most of<br />
them calmed themselves down immediately. They listened to me.<br />
Everything was very strange. For me it was some kind of illumination.<br />
Both their and my reactions were a surprise to me and it<br />
is still hard for me to believe what happened that night. 55<br />
These dramatic incidents indicate the extremely complicated social<br />
realities characterizing the Cañari area at the time. In order to<br />
understand and judge the achievements of the CARC project, it is<br />
important to comprehend some elements of the intricate web of<br />
social interaction within the Cañar valley, including such thorny<br />
issues as local patriotism, ownership structures, racism, religious<br />
conflicts and political populism.<br />
Trial and error has taught us, often in a painful way, that development<br />
work in general and <strong>water</strong> management in particular, is<br />
a complicated social activity. You have to be very sensitive to the<br />
demands and way of being of the people you work with. Be careful,<br />
listen and learn. 56<br />
55<br />
56<br />
Interview with Jenny Campoverde.<br />
Interview with Pablo Arevalo, technician working with PROTOS (an NGO associated<br />
with the CARC project).
[<br />
Listen and learn from <strong>water</strong> users ]
Local Patriotism<br />
46<br />
Some of the conflicts were probably related to El Tambo’s struggle<br />
for recognition as a province. In those days, El Tambo was a<br />
parish within the province of Cañar. The politicians of El Tambo<br />
tried to identify issues powerful enough to unite the townspeople.<br />
The town of El Tambo has for a long time been considered different<br />
from the rest of the Cañari area. The traditional explanation<br />
is that most people from El Tambo were workers from the railroads.<br />
Many railroad workers came from the northernmost part<br />
of Ecuador from the town of Tulcan. When construction was finished,<br />
several of them settled in El Tambo, which was founded<br />
because of the railroad. Since that day, these people and their<br />
descendants have been considered outsiders. 57<br />
Father Mello Storoni, the Catholic parish priest of El Tambo, was<br />
born in a small Italian village and spent 15 years in The Congo before<br />
coming to Ecuador. Nevertheless, he is a local patriot who fiercely<br />
defends what he perceives to be the best interests of his parishioners.<br />
He admits that several people consider him to be very conflictive<br />
and confesses he has never avoided expressing his opinions.<br />
In a way you might say that I am fascinated by the struggle. I was<br />
opposed to the dam, mainly because of the threat to the archaeological<br />
sites up there. I confided in Antonio Carillo, an able archaeologist<br />
in Cuenca, who represented the national patrimony.<br />
Furthermore, the entire project was not well installed among the<br />
inhabitants of this area. Some of the <strong>water</strong> was going to be taken<br />
to the lower parts of Suscal. It is true they have less <strong>water</strong> down<br />
there, but on the other hand there is more rain and humidity than<br />
Father Mello Storoni, the Catholic<br />
parish priest of El Tambo
here in El Tambo. They do not depend on irrigation as much as<br />
we do. They usually have one more harvest there.... People in El<br />
Tambo have always considered themselves to be ignored by the<br />
politicians of Cañar. For political reasons the well-being of the<br />
inhabitants of Cañar has been the priority for local authorities.<br />
The Culebrillas project was planned at the same time as El Tambo<br />
sought its cantonization. There was constant conflict between the<br />
two communities. People of El Tambo erected barricades across<br />
the Inter-American highway, blocking the passage of people from<br />
Cañar. Sometimes people were fighting by the barricades.<br />
Youngsters from Cañar came to tear down the barricades, insulting<br />
the people from El Tambo. During one of these incidents, a<br />
man from El Tambo got upset, went for his shotgun, and killed a<br />
man from Cañar. 58<br />
Conflicts between isolated towns and villages in the Andes are commonplace<br />
in several areas. This local patriotism seems to affect mestizos<br />
as well as indigenous people. 59<br />
“The village [and the rural setting] is like a mountain cloister<br />
where man’s activities are circumscribed, and where his actions are<br />
limited by invisible frontiers that are never far away. He is surrounded<br />
by mountains. The day ends early and darkness can be eternal.<br />
How can anyone transcend such villages, closed to communication<br />
and encompassing sight, the body and also the spirit? Mountain<br />
ranges close the roads, rivers have no bridges, and man is bound to<br />
a land that absorbs all his activities and kills his desire for liberation.<br />
Every village is like a cave, where hunger is imprisoned and man has<br />
to accept his destiny.... Thus the mountain lives within him”. 60<br />
47<br />
57<br />
58<br />
59<br />
60<br />
Interview with Remigio Padrón. The railroad was finished around 1935. Tambo is a<br />
Quichua word that originally designated the points of stopover along the Incan highway<br />
system (Bark and Maier (1973), p. 142).<br />
Interview with Father Mello Storoni.<br />
As in most Latin American countries cohabited by different groups, denominations<br />
related to race and ethnicity are not rigid, varying from area to area. In the Cañar area<br />
the term mestizo is used for both white people and persons of mixed blood. Most<br />
indigenous people autodefine themselves as Cañaris, though they also consider themselves<br />
to be indigenous. In the Ecuadorian context, an indigenous person is generally<br />
someone living in an indigenous community, speaking Quichua (or another indigenous<br />
language) alongside or instead of Spanish, and wearing a particular kind of dress (on<br />
ethnic definitions and racism in Ecuador, see Cervone and Rivera (1999)). In the Cañar<br />
area the most distinguished dress features of the Cañaris, apart from ponchos and<br />
knee-length shirts above lots of petticoats, are hand-made, white felt hats and the guangos,<br />
long, single braids worn by both men and women.<br />
Uriel García (1986), p. 143.
48<br />
This is probably an authentic description of the Cañari area some<br />
fifty years ago:<br />
The landowners lived in Cuenca, far from here. It was a long trip<br />
and most of them stayed up here from June to December. Their<br />
families left in October because the children had to go to school. El<br />
Tambo was reached by railroad, but not until the 1930s. Until 1970,<br />
there were no vehicles around here. There were no tractors, and<br />
still aren’t any. Until the 1950s, the produce was taken down to the<br />
coast on the backs of mules. The indigenous people were dependent<br />
on the plantations and most stayed on them all their lives. 61<br />
Things have changed drastically during the last decade and people<br />
now have closer contacts with the surrounding world. However, the<br />
former isolation may explain in part why Andean communities tend<br />
to be quite circumscribed and distrustful towards their neighbours.<br />
A member of a community tends to perceive him/herself as an integrated<br />
part of a group of people. The geographic reasons for such a<br />
perception are easily understood. However, there are also historical<br />
reasons that date far back to pre-Columbian times.<br />
Under the Inca rulers, the land was tended by ayllus (domestic<br />
units) dominated by hatun-runa (the head of the family), who in his<br />
turn was controlled by the curacas, who kept a watchful eye on all<br />
work done. Every year the curacas redistributed the land according<br />
to the number of active people in each household. Members of the<br />
ayllus were rigorously controlled and every rural inhabitant was part<br />
of a complicated administrative system. Different social categories<br />
were under constant and strict control within the entire Inca<br />
empire. Such a system created close ties between farmers and the<br />
land they tended. When the Spanish arrived, they thus found an<br />
elaborate system of tribute and work-discipline to exploit. One might<br />
say that the tight control the Incas had over rural people was preserved<br />
under colonial, and even republican, rule, surviving until a<br />
few decades ago. 62<br />
[<br />
The CARC project was being<br />
discussed while El Tambo was<br />
struggling for recognition as a province ]
Feelings of local patriotism have often found their way into criticism<br />
of the CARC project:<br />
It has always been the same. The normal thing would have been<br />
to let El Tambo participate in project formulation. And...why did<br />
they not let people from El Tambo enter as administrators and<br />
technicians? I am not insinuating that the people of Cuenca and<br />
Cañar, who now are directing everything, are doing a bad job. It<br />
is possible that they are more able than most from El Tambo.<br />
However, it is my firm belief that people from El Tambo ought to<br />
work with such an important project. It affects all of us and we<br />
can participate with our own people, our own technicians.<br />
Nevertheless, the municipality of El Tambo was not allowed to<br />
participate in initial project formulation, nor in the reformulation.<br />
All was guided by the idiosyncrasy of outsiders. Now everything<br />
is transferred to NGOs. Nevertheless, it is the same personnel<br />
as before. Where are the representatives from El Tambo? They are<br />
nowhere to be found. There is still not one single technician from<br />
El Tambo in the project. 63<br />
Suspicions against development agents coming from the outside<br />
were voiced in an ever stronger way by certain members of the El<br />
Tambo community. A white landowner (cattle farmer), who wanted<br />
to remain anonymous told us:<br />
Several of these so-called NGOs, and even some religious organizations,<br />
are composed of outsiders with an agenda of their own, totally<br />
alien to law abiding citizens in this area. Several of these so-called<br />
aid organizations serve as introducers of Communist ideologies.<br />
Manifestations and protests are staged as community actions. People<br />
participate not so much as individuals as members of certain groups.<br />
Such behaviour is an excellent breeding ground for ill feelings<br />
towards those community members who work with people perceived<br />
as outsiders and intruders. This may have been the reason for the<br />
furious hatred directed against the project driver, Luis Chimbo,<br />
whose life had been threatened on various occasions.<br />
49<br />
61<br />
62<br />
63<br />
Interview with Fernando Pozo Illingworth, landowner (20 hectares).<br />
Bernand (1996), pp. 67-68.<br />
Interview with Daniel Rodríguez, former mayor of El Tambo. Several technicians from<br />
the CARC project, stating that the project reformulation involved a long and complicated<br />
process met the mayor’s criticism. All organizations existing in El Tambo were<br />
invited to participate. CARC personnel state that several people from El Tambo who initially<br />
opposed the project were unwilling to participate. Furthermore, they explained<br />
that since the project is stressing rural development, popular participation is more visible<br />
and active in the countryside surrounding the town of El Tambo.
When better communications were established between project<br />
staff and their opponents, all hostility towards Luis Chimbo suddenly<br />
seemed to disappear. He once again became fully accepted by most<br />
people from El Tambo and was able to live as an integrated member<br />
of his community.<br />
The Huasipungo System<br />
50<br />
Land and <strong>water</strong> are extremely important in the Cañar valley.<br />
People have fought and died for them. A few decades ago, many<br />
Cañaris were deprived of free access to land and <strong>water</strong>. In the last<br />
twenty years, many indigenous peoples have experienced stages of<br />
social development that took centuries in Europe. People born into<br />
serfdom and illiteracy have obtained both land and self-confidence.<br />
Through an often-painful process, they have learned that control<br />
over land and <strong>water</strong> is often synonymous with power.<br />
Lack of irrigation remains the main problem around here. As<br />
long as the plans for the damming of Culebrillas and the new<br />
canals are not realized, people will suffer. There is no <strong>water</strong> here,<br />
the area is practically a desert and things are getting worse.<br />
Culebrillas is the only existing irrigation source for us. The roots<br />
to the problems are to be found among the constant controversies<br />
we are involved in with our comrades of El Tambo. They say they<br />
want to protect the archaeological sites up there. However, that is<br />
not the main problem. The fact is that the land belongs to those living<br />
up there. We cannot enter. We cannot use what belongs to<br />
them. True, the <strong>water</strong> belongs to the Ecuadorian State, not to any<br />
individuals. Still, the land where the <strong>water</strong> comes from belongs to<br />
them. What can we do? Down here, we suffer during dry times;<br />
they have <strong>water</strong> all the time. That is the problem. They have <strong>water</strong>.<br />
64<br />
65<br />
66<br />
Interview with Isidor Pichisaca, village teacher in the Collahuco sector in Suscal.<br />
Interview with Pablo Arevalo.<br />
Bernand (1996), pp. 94-96.
We have nothing. The one who owns something is afraid of losing<br />
it. The one who has nothing is a beggar, and a beggar is not liked<br />
by anyone. He is a threat. 64<br />
All the canals originating from Culebrillas run down to El Tambo. For<br />
them, it means that life is coming down to their fields. Anyone who<br />
touches the <strong>water</strong> supplies is naturally perceived as a threat. 65<br />
The conflicts surrounding CARC fit into the framework of age-old<br />
traditions and ever-present ethnic tensions, seemingly eternal problems<br />
closely linked to land and <strong>water</strong> ownership. Before the Spanish<br />
conquest, there was no notion of private land ownership. Under the<br />
Incas, all land theoretically belonged to the sun and was taken care<br />
of by his son, the Inca. However, powerful nobles controlled the<br />
Inca’s vast empire. The wealth of these curacas was not measured in<br />
land but in terms of numbers of houses, wives, servants, belongings<br />
and animals. 66<br />
The Spanish conquerors adapted the indigenous system to their<br />
own particular needs. Accordingly the naborías, former members of<br />
Inca-controlled ayllus, were forced to work for Spanish masters<br />
instead. This particular kind of work was carried out as mita, meaning<br />
that tributes were paid through work for the creditor. Indigenous<br />
people were legally free vassals under the Spanish Crown.<br />
Nevertheless, when provincial towns were founded, surrounding<br />
land gained value and was eventually divided into plots that were<br />
controlled by clerics and Spanish officials. By acquiring different<br />
goods and services offered by town-dwellers, the indigenous people<br />
gradually became indebted. Debts were paid in the form of mita, and<br />
credit tended to be constructed in such a way that the debtor was<br />
snared for life. Soon most indigenous people had lost their land to<br />
creditors and turned into serfs (huasipungeros).<br />
51<br />
Land and <strong>water</strong><br />
origin of ever present<br />
ethnic tensions
52<br />
Huasipungero is a Quichua word combining huasi (house) and<br />
pungo (door), signifying the plot of land a plantation worker is<br />
granted by a landowner. 67 Depending on the period in question, a<br />
huasipungero worked for his patron three to four days per week.<br />
This gave him access to a plot of land (of varying size depending on<br />
the area, but seldom more extensive than three hectares) and rights<br />
to <strong>water</strong>, firewood and grassland. All members of the<br />
huasipungero’s family had to work for the patron. 68 Besides these<br />
rights and obligations, a huasipungero was granted minimum<br />
wages during the time he worked for his patron (in 1962, between<br />
30 and 90 sucres per month). 69<br />
Huasipungeros were not the only workers who depended on plantations.<br />
There were also yanaperos, arrimados, allegados and apegados.<br />
Such agriculturists owned their own land; however, inherited<br />
debts from their forefathers meant they had to work a certain number<br />
of days per week for the landowners. There used to be more<br />
arrimados working on a plantation than huasipungeros. 70<br />
Land Reforms<br />
The secluded and limiting world of huge plantations and<br />
huasipungo serfdom was finally broken up through the land reforms<br />
of 1964 and 1973. The prevailing situation in the Cañar area might<br />
still be described as a transition period. Accordingly, expectations<br />
and criticism directed towards CARC are partially a result of hopes<br />
and expectations nurtured by social forces released through these<br />
reforms.<br />
It was another world. Doña Florencia Astudillo was carried<br />
around like a Madonna in her sedan chair. In front of her, people<br />
went down on their knees. Our fathers told us to remove our hats<br />
and bow our heads when landowners and stewards passed by.<br />
However, times were changing. They said Doña Florencia went to<br />
Rome; when she returned, she had repented and was more religious<br />
than before. Things changed. People were allowed to go to<br />
67<br />
68<br />
69<br />
70<br />
Our superficial description of the extremely complicated evolution of Ecuadorian landowning<br />
systems is based on Moreno Yánez (1995), pp. 341-96.<br />
Ferrín S. (1982), pp. 161-69.<br />
In 1960, 30 sucres were equal to about USD 15.<br />
Ferrín S. (1982), p. 168.
school. Plots of land were given away. Before she died, she gave<br />
away all her land to a group of nuns who turned it over to the<br />
Church and it was consequently passed on to an entity called<br />
Asistencia Social. That did not change much. The land was still in<br />
the hands of the stewards and their families. We continued to live<br />
like some kind of slaves. However, in 1964, the land was broken up<br />
and divided. The huasipungo was not allowed any more. An NGO<br />
called Misión Andina turned up to give instruction and assistance<br />
to former plantation workers. The military came to distribute<br />
the land to the huasipungeros. The power structure started to<br />
change. However, there were many problems: land was unevenly<br />
divided; the old stewards got the best plots; many arrimados continued<br />
to be just as poor and marginalized as before. However, the<br />
Church now supported us. It had changed and was now on our<br />
side; at least some of the priests joined us in our struggle for land<br />
and justice. Monsignor Leonidas Proaño, the one they called the<br />
Bishop of the Indians, organized a radio station in Riobamba and<br />
spread a message called Theology of Liberation. For many years,<br />
we remained in that kind of mysticism. Many priests were with<br />
us. The most radical was Father Rafael Gonzalez of Biblián.<br />
However, there were several others. Here in Cañar, one of the most<br />
helpful was a nun, Sister Genoveva Rodríguez. They were all good<br />
people. In those days, we did not have much knowledge. We were<br />
not powerful enough. We needed help. This was the beginning of it<br />
all. We learned. We got organized. Cañar became a nucleus of the<br />
movement. Our patience was finishing. We started to occupy<br />
plantations. Here in Cañar there was not so much violence, but<br />
there was confrontation in other places. We the young people of<br />
53<br />
Land reforms<br />
broke up plantations and<br />
huasipungo serfdom
54<br />
Cañar participated. We moved around at night, and helped our<br />
brothers in other places. In Chimborazo, there were clashes. At<br />
least three people were killed by bullets. One of them, Lázaro<br />
Condo, became one of our heroes. We learned to organize ourselves,<br />
both locally and at the national level. I remember how the<br />
leaders of the society looked down upon us. They shouted at us: if<br />
you want to be professionals change your clothes! Civilize yourselves!<br />
Much remains to be done. Further training is very important<br />
to us. They say, ‘the indians are getting politicized’; I say, ‘we<br />
are becoming visible’. 71<br />
During the period 1948-1960, Ecuador experienced unprecedented<br />
political stability. Export-oriented politics stimulated the economy,<br />
work was created along the coast and more and more people moved<br />
there. Ecuador’s population increased by 45%; along the coast, population<br />
grew by 100%. However, at the beginning of the 1960s, banana<br />
prices fell drastically. The country was hit by a profound economic<br />
crisis and strikes multiplied. The disturbances were suppressed by<br />
the military, which seized power in 1963. 72<br />
The military government’s economic policy was influenced by the<br />
Alliance for Progress set up during the Kennedy years. This involved<br />
advocating internal economic development, rather than catering to<br />
the interests of influential agro-exporters along the coast and big<br />
landowners in the Sierra. Before these two groups were able to<br />
strengthen opposition to the military government and oust it from<br />
power in 1966, the military launched the land reform of 1964, starting<br />
the process that would eventually reshape the entire social and<br />
political landscape of Cañar.<br />
71<br />
72<br />
73<br />
Interview with Washo Camas.<br />
Holmberg (1998), p. 12.<br />
Rossing (1996), pp. 98-99, and Bernal et al. (1999), pp. 70-71.
The immediate effects of land reform were limited. Primarily<br />
state-owned lands were delivered, and the existing ownership structures<br />
were not immediately affected. Distributed plots were often<br />
very small and most were soon to be subdivided through sales and<br />
inheritance. In spite of the new cultivation triggered by the reform,<br />
cultivated areas dwindled at the national level because many big<br />
landowners, out of fear of expropriation, limited the size of their<br />
holdings through inheritance divisions and/or diverted activities<br />
from agriculture to cattle breeding. 73<br />
Up from the Middle Ages<br />
The land reforms triggered off social mobilization that soon went<br />
beyond merely reflecting land demands. An agenda of self-realization<br />
and search for power was gradually developed among the indigenous<br />
population of Cañar and some wanted CARC to be a part of this<br />
development.<br />
Not all indigenous people are poor. Not all whites, or mestizos,<br />
making a living as farmers have extensive lands. Nevertheless, the<br />
Ecuadorian land issue has always been intimately connected to the<br />
plight of indigenous populations. It is still common to put an equal<br />
sign between ‘rural poor’ and ‘indigenous peoples’. An ethnic struggle<br />
for self-realization and influence was soon linked to land reform.<br />
The Catholic Church was at the forefront of this development.<br />
Father Víctor Vásquez, born in the town of Cañar and now parish<br />
priest in Suscal, explains:<br />
55<br />
[<br />
The land reforms triggered<br />
social mobilization ]
56<br />
We priests who are born here are familiar with the idiosyncrasies<br />
of our people. We have struggled to realize what started with the<br />
land reform. We seek a non-political position. However, we are on<br />
the side of our parishioners, the poor. The vision of this upcoming<br />
millennium will be to consider God as protector of the world. Such<br />
was the function of the Inca divinity, Pasha Cam. We now realize<br />
that the gospel is boundless; it fits into our cultural tradition as<br />
well. We are optimists; it is our mission to bring hope and knowledge<br />
to our people. The Church was once the most formidable<br />
landowner. The sins of the Church weighed heavily upon the clergy<br />
and we embraced with passion the message of the second<br />
Vatican Council. We supported Medellín, Puebla and Santo<br />
Domingo, realizing that the Church had been instrumental in<br />
maintaining the shameful slavery and illiteracy that for centuries<br />
have existed in the Highlands. We accepted the message of<br />
the Theology of Liberation, and thus supported the land reform.<br />
We were active in the formation of the indigenous organizations,<br />
helping them obtain a voice in society. 74<br />
Together with the Andean Mission, an NGO founded to support the<br />
land reforms through social mobilization, the Catholic Church started<br />
a massive education campaign in order to promote the establishment<br />
of effective indigenous organizations.<br />
Getting Organized<br />
The Cañar area presents a bewildering flora of various organizations.<br />
CARC cooperates with several pressure groups and cooperatives<br />
that essentially represent the interests of small farmers and/or<br />
indigenous groups. The most important are ASOAC, AINCA, AIEC<br />
and UPCCC. A short description of these organizations might shed<br />
some light on how organizations developed in the valley after the<br />
1964 land reform.<br />
74<br />
75<br />
Interview with Father Víctor Vásquez.<br />
Interview with Remegio Hurtado, member of ASOAC’s council.
ASOAC (Asociación de Organizaciones Agrícolas de Cañar) was<br />
founded in 1970 in Honorato Vásquez, a village just outside Cañar.<br />
The organization was established in order to organize land distribution<br />
and improve production resources for four different communities.<br />
ASOAC worked in the fields of irrigation-canal recovery, health<br />
issues, adaptation of new agricultural techniques, storage, etc. Over<br />
the years, ASOAC has developed contacts with several NGOs and<br />
other development agencies. It is now organizing no less than 48<br />
communities and is associated with an organization operating at the<br />
national level, Federación Nacional de Organizaciones y<br />
Organismos Campesinos Indígenas y Negros de Ecuador<br />
(FENOCIN). Together with a few similar organizations, ASOAC constitutes<br />
the southern branch of FENOCIN. ASOAC is not exclusively<br />
an indigenous organization and wanted to be associated with<br />
FENOCIN because this organization is open to all and particularly<br />
promotes cooperation with black people along the northern coast.<br />
We want to be able to train our own technicians. Be helpful in creating<br />
a local fund of knowledge here in Cañar. Our cooperation<br />
with CARC has been excellent, very open and based on mutual<br />
respect. Together with CARC, we have developed plastic greenhouses<br />
and have been trained in how to manage them. The project<br />
has also helped us concerning institutional strengthening and<br />
how to develop social-administrative skills. We have also worked<br />
together in the rebuilding of irrigation canals. It is the policy of<br />
ASOAC to respect all our sister organizations and not discriminate<br />
against anybody. 75<br />
57<br />
Plastic greenhouses<br />
have been built<br />
jointly with the CARC project
58<br />
AINCA (Asociación Indígena Cañar Ayllú) was founded in Suscal<br />
in 1982. The need for the organization arose from the realization that<br />
the communities of Suscal could not communicate their needs to the<br />
authorities.<br />
It is a generalized view that among the people in Suscal, the lower<br />
parts are somewhat behind compared with people living in the<br />
‘high sector’. They often call us sachos, ‘from the back of beyond’,<br />
or mucos. 76 When we did not have our own organization, it was<br />
not always easy to be noticed at local and national levels. We try<br />
to attract cooperation and assistance from both government and<br />
NGOs. We have fought for electricity and <strong>water</strong>, but new problems<br />
occur all the time. In the past, alcoholism was a very serious problem<br />
around here; now our children's situation worries us. The<br />
recent migrations put a lot of stress on families, particularly<br />
women and children. 77<br />
AIEC (Asociación de Indígenas Evangélicos de Cañar) is the organization<br />
of Lutheran indigenous people in the Cañar area. Norwegian<br />
missionaries brought the Lutheran faith to Cañar in 1970. They<br />
established a health clinic and soon attracted a following. The hardworking<br />
Lutherans, with their strict views on the bad influence of<br />
alcohol and the importance of high morals, impressed several<br />
Cañaris. However, the conflicts with the Catholic Church hierarchy<br />
and several neighbours were fierce at first.<br />
We were often accused of being the puppets of foreign masters,<br />
obeying them in everything, denying our roots and isolating us<br />
from our neighbours. The indigenous movement here in Cañar<br />
was supported by the Catholic Church and religion was often<br />
mixed with their message. The present Catholic priest of El Tambo,<br />
Mello Storoni, is a good person and we have no problems with<br />
him. It is true that some of the missionaries were somewhat harsh<br />
76<br />
77<br />
78<br />
79<br />
Mucos are the bermuda-length trousers that form part of Andean traditional dress.<br />
Interview with Abelina Morocho, former mayor of Suscal.<br />
Interview with Pastor Gabriel Pichazaca of the Lutheran Church in El Tambo.<br />
Interview with Reinaldo Tenezaca, agricultural engineer working with AIEC.
on what they considered idolatry. However, nowadays respect for<br />
our own customs and a rehabilitation of our own culture goes<br />
hand in hand with our Church as well. The message has to be<br />
within the culture of the people. 78<br />
AIEC supports a school with 286 pupils from 22 different communities<br />
in the 6 to 20-year age group. Education is bilingual and the<br />
pupils get a lot of agricultural practice.<br />
We try to spread our teaching to the communities. Influencing<br />
agricultural practices. Children receive a chicken that has to be<br />
reared in their homes. We have plastic greenhouses on the school<br />
grounds and plan to establish an experimental farm for integrated<br />
agricultural production. We use the pupils as extention agents.<br />
We have established good cooperation with CARC, working hand<br />
in hand. In our opinion, the CARC technicians adopted quite traditional<br />
training methods at first: too much theory, too much<br />
blackboard. However, they are improving and we now receive<br />
very good training from them. Seven of our people are working<br />
with them and joint programmes are being multiplied. 79<br />
Before touching upon the origin and growth of UPCCC, the biggest<br />
indigenous organization in the basin and the one that stresses ethnic<br />
identity more than any other, it is worthwhile discussing the<br />
interplay of ethnicity, racism and politics in Ecuador.<br />
59<br />
[<br />
The CARC project supports teaching<br />
with agricultural practice ]
The ‘Indian Question’ and the Rise of the<br />
Confederation of the Indigenous<br />
Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE)<br />
60<br />
During several periods in the 20th century, Ecuadorian scientists<br />
speculated about differences among the country’s ethnic groups. It<br />
was mainly an exercise carried out by scientists who defined others<br />
using yardsticks fabricated in line with white supremacy. It was thus<br />
established that the Afro-Americans along the coast were endowed<br />
with a virile, but rebellious nature; in comparison with these children<br />
of nature, the Indians of the Highlands were characterized as<br />
docile, either lacking energy or endowed with a kind of dull resistance.<br />
Several pseudo-scientific explanations were given for this perceived<br />
state of affairs. As late as the 1940s, several physical anthropologists<br />
assumed that Indian docility had something to do with corporal<br />
hair growth. As a rule, Caucasian males had more hair than<br />
Indians and thus, according to these scholars, were more virile and<br />
active. Based on these hairy arguments, one scientist even described<br />
the Indians as belonging to a racial type he characterized as infantilfeminoide.<br />
80<br />
Other theories blamed deficient nutrition as a reason for Indian<br />
docility, while a few scientists sought the reasons in socio-economic<br />
factors and ruthless suppression. One of the main reasons behind the<br />
debate was the intention of liberal politicians to transform the<br />
Highlands into a more-efficient food producer and turn Indians into<br />
consumers of industrial products. 81<br />
80<br />
81<br />
Alejandro Lipschütz (1941), quoted in Clark (1999), p.118. Another important exponent<br />
of these theories was Antonio Santiana.<br />
Clark (1999), pp. 112-26.
[<br />
Facing the future ]
62<br />
The land reforms of 1964 and 1973 were carried out against the<br />
backdrop of complaints from influential landowners. Several opponents<br />
to the reforms argued that alleged inertia and backwardness<br />
of the indigenous populations would eventually lead to a complete<br />
breakdown of Ecuadorian agricultural production. 82 However, in<br />
those days, the arguments regarding Indians docility seemed to have<br />
been forgotten and had been replaced among certain influential<br />
groups by feelings of insecurity and fear.<br />
Through the reform programmes, more indigenous populations<br />
than ever before were reached by progressive forces. Despite the<br />
presence and efforts of several NGOs, the Government and different<br />
political parties, the Catholic Church proved to possess the most<br />
effective way of reaching and helping its indigenous parishioners. In<br />
1969, the Latin American Bishops met in Medellín in Colombia and<br />
denounced the living conditions of poor people on the continent. In<br />
accordance with these church policies, radical clerics met with<br />
peasant leaders in Tepeyac, Chimborazo, in 1972, where they founded<br />
an organization called Ecuador Runacunapac Richarimui<br />
(ECUARUNARI). 83 The name means awakening of the Ecuadorian<br />
Indians, 84 thus reflecting in a certain sense the racist theories of the<br />
1940s, namely that Indians were immersed in lethargy.<br />
ECUARUNARI leaders declared: “Richarimui signifies a new awakening,<br />
the awakening of the Ecuadorian Indian to an existence that<br />
once was and a reality that implies equal rights and obligations for<br />
all Ecuadorians”. 85<br />
82<br />
83<br />
84<br />
85<br />
86<br />
87<br />
88<br />
Clark (1999), pp. 112-26.<br />
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 73.<br />
Zamosc (1994), p. 47.<br />
Quoted in Pallares Ayala (1999), p. 167.<br />
Ibid., pp. 167-68.<br />
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 74. The constitutional text on Derechos Colectivos is reproduced<br />
in Freire Heredia and Usca (2000), pp. 247-49.<br />
Bernal et al. (1999), p. 74.
Indian revitalisation meant a search for ethnic characteristics in<br />
order to use them in a new kind of self-expression: “We have been<br />
marginalized because we were told that we were not able to analyse<br />
the country’s problems. Our culture is older [than this nation]. We<br />
have preserved our traditions. Our marginalization is the reason why<br />
national problems have not been solved to date. We have our own<br />
way of being, our own cultural and organizational ways". 86<br />
ECUARUNARI became instrumental in the carrying out of bilingual<br />
programmes introduced by the State during the 1980s.<br />
Furthermore, the organization influenced the content and wording<br />
of new constitutional texts in 1998. An entirely new chapter was<br />
included in Ecuador’s Constitution, the collective rights, whose first<br />
section established the rights of indigenous peoples and blacks, or<br />
Afro-Ecuadorians. 87 In 1987, ECUARUNARI entered into an agreement<br />
with CONFENIAE, the organization of the Amazon Indians,<br />
thus establishing a new organization, the CONAIE. 88<br />
63<br />
[<br />
We have our own way of being, our<br />
own cultural and organizational ways ]
UPCCC, CARC and Ethnic Politics in Cañar<br />
64<br />
CARC started in 1992, the same year Latin America recalled the<br />
arrival of the European conquerors and the 500 tumultuous years<br />
that followed. Indigenous groups all over Latin America raised their<br />
voices in protest against 500 years of suppression and demanded<br />
change. The majority of the project’s future beneficiaries characterized<br />
themselves as Indians and the turbulent, national events mentioned<br />
naturally had repercussions in the Cañar area as well. As it<br />
turned out, Cañar even became the focal point of one of the most violent<br />
ethnic conflicts of the last decade.<br />
From its start, CARC had close ties with UPCCC, the biggest and<br />
most influential indigenous organization in the area. The organization<br />
was founded in 1970 in order to voice Cañari indigenous interests<br />
and was supported at the time by progressive Catholics. It has a<br />
council headed by a president, elected for two years by representatives<br />
of organizations from eight different parishes. UPCCC is affiliated<br />
with CONAIE.<br />
In my opinion, [UPCCC’s] relation with CARC has been a rather<br />
disappointing experience. I must say that a lot of good work has<br />
been achieved, particularly in the lowlands. However, we had<br />
very high hopes. We thought CARC could be instrumental in more<br />
thorough change. Previously agencies had very limited scope; we<br />
thought that if UPCCC and CARC could present a more complete<br />
vision, a lot could have been achieved. The other organizations<br />
have more limited goals and many work within frameworks set<br />
by their religious convictions. The goal of UPCCC has always been<br />
to overcome both the economic and social crises of this area.<br />
Before 1994, UPCCC was an organization with a lot of potential.<br />
The idea of the CARC project was<br />
to improve conditions for<br />
the indigenous populations<br />
particularly through<br />
extensive irrigation work
However, when the new headquarters (Nucanchic Huasi) was<br />
burned down, a great part of our social base was destroyed as well.<br />
CARC did not cooperate with us in the way we hoped for. They<br />
hired people from outside, engaged several NGOs, but did not consider<br />
us potential partners. After all, it was UPCCC that came with<br />
the original proposal for a development project like CARC. 89<br />
UPCCC signed the agreement with the Ministry of Social Welfare.<br />
We were supposed to be co-executors of the CARC project. We were<br />
even told that ‘it is your project’. The idea was to improve conditions<br />
for the indigenous population, particularly through extensive<br />
irrigation work. The dam of Culebrillas would be the hub of<br />
activities. Unfortunately, misguided politics destroyed those<br />
intentions and things went sour. In the middle of everything came<br />
the burning down of Nucanchic Huasi. 90<br />
65<br />
By the beginning of the 1990s, UPCCC had entered a dynamic<br />
period. The Church had given the organization a former hospital<br />
in Cañar and helped the organization through several other<br />
actions. Among other things, the clergy was helpful in establishing<br />
an agricultural college for indigenous youth in 1985. The new<br />
headquarters was provided with a health clinic, a store for basicnecessity<br />
goods, a distributor of propane gas, a lumberyard, a<br />
carpenter’s workshop, and another workshop for handicrafts. A<br />
library was built and the place contained several halls for education,<br />
archives and administrative offices. We had one truck and<br />
two pick-ups. Several development programmes were carried out<br />
in the surrounding countryside – training in integrated farming,<br />
the formation of women groups, rehabilitation of irrigation systems,<br />
etc. UPCCC received support from several NGOs. A<br />
Norwegian organization, Ayuda Popular Noruega (APN), was<br />
especially generous in its support. The German Agency for<br />
Technical Cooperation (GTZ) supported our bilingual education<br />
programmes. 91<br />
89<br />
90<br />
91<br />
Interview with José María Guamán, vice-president of UPCCC.<br />
Interview with Jorge Lema, ex-president of UPCCC (1994-1996).<br />
Interview with Inocencio Lojo Alulema.
66<br />
The apparent success of UPCCC aroused fears and suspicion<br />
among some of the mestizo and white people living in Cañar:<br />
With the land reform, various groups were formed in order to<br />
obtain land. Both mestizos and the indigenous population<br />
formed such groups and some were mixed. Like the indigenous<br />
population, many mestizos were also poor and landless.<br />
However, when the land had been distributed, the mestizos organizations<br />
ceased to exist, but the indigenous organizations continued<br />
to be active, often with church help. Thus the indigenous people<br />
continued to attract outside support. In the meantime, the<br />
mestizos complained: ‘Only the indigenous people are given support,<br />
while no one cares for us’, and there were also allegations of<br />
financial mis-management. One UPCCC leader was accused of<br />
selling a car that had been given as support to the organization.<br />
Town life was gradually changing. Indigenous communities<br />
moved in; mestizos moved out. The privileged position of whites<br />
and mestizos was changing for the worse. Business was bad and<br />
competition from UPCCCs stores and businesses was beginning to<br />
be felt. At the same time, a new indigenous generation was radicalized<br />
by all the talk of 500 years of oppression and similar agitation.<br />
Townspeople started to talk about how ‘the Indians want to<br />
turn themselves into landowners’. 92<br />
Tensions grew gradually and exploded in June 1994, when nationwide<br />
protests were organized against the introduction of new land<br />
laws. These laws, which were supported by big landowners, were said<br />
to render agriculture more effective. However, several pro-indigenous<br />
groups considered the laws to be directed against smallholders.<br />
Agitation spread throughout the country. In Cañar, UPCCC members<br />
marched through the town to demonstrate their displeasure with the<br />
laws. In the aftermath of these protests, a group of indigenous youngsters<br />
behaved threateningly towards some shopkeepers. On the<br />
evening of 14 June, a mob attacked UPCCC’s headquarters. They surrounded<br />
the place and pillaged it. A fire started inside the building<br />
and a storage for propane gas blew up.<br />
92<br />
93<br />
Interview with Romegio Padrón.<br />
Interview with Inocencio Lojo Alulema.
A group of people tried to hinder others from entering the marketplace.<br />
‘This is our living’ the salespeople told them and this<br />
angered the group. Some even went around town smashing windows<br />
and threatening people. A mob soon surrounded our headquarters.<br />
They destroyed everything and plundered the store and<br />
the storerooms. Then the fire started. People panicked. People<br />
trapped inside were afraid of running out into the furious mob,<br />
so several jumped from the wall at the back. It is very high and<br />
several were badly hurt; one died. The fire brigade stood watching<br />
while the place burned down; the library, offices, the store, everything<br />
went up in flames. Not until the rest of the town was threatened<br />
did the firemen try to put out the flames. It was a terrible<br />
blow to all of us, both mestizos and indigenous people. 93<br />
The ethnic and political violence that exploded in 1994 was indeed a<br />
terrible blow to the development process in the Cañar valley. The<br />
CARC project had already lived through the agonizing experience of<br />
protests against Culebrillas dam; now UPCCC, which was considered<br />
by many to be an important partner in CARC’s development plans,<br />
was partly paralysed by inner strife and the object of ethnic and<br />
political rage.<br />
67<br />
The Baseline Study<br />
The situation was difficult in 1994, and the project's future looked<br />
very bleak. The complicated political and social situation in the area<br />
was blocking several project components. Worse was the opposition<br />
to the damming of Culebrillas, which meant that the original plan<br />
had to be reworked and changed. The Dutch Government and <strong>IFAD</strong><br />
In 1994 the ethnic and political<br />
violence was a terrible blow<br />
to the CARC project
68<br />
faced the difficult choice of withdrawing their support altogether, or<br />
attempting to overcome the conflicts and difficulties. After intense<br />
discussions with the Government, local organizations and CARC<br />
staff, it was decided to reformulate and reactivate the project. While<br />
work continued on some of the components, greater effort was made<br />
to orient the project towards a more participatory approach. The<br />
main instruments and starting points for this process were a reformulation<br />
mission and a thorough baseline study.<br />
The reformulation mission visited Cañar in October 1994 and presented<br />
its report the following year. Meanwhile, a Dutch consultancy<br />
group hired by <strong>IFAD</strong> was busy carrying out a thorough baseline study<br />
together with CARC staff.<br />
It was a good and complicated exercise. One hundred and twenty<br />
in-depth field interviews were carried out. We succeeded in getting<br />
the Ecuadorians to look at the problems from a new angle. Without<br />
the baseline study, we would not have been able to redirect the<br />
project. Everyone was engaged. We all learned something and<br />
were proud of the result. The entire process took two years. One<br />
year in the field, then we processed the data and went back again.<br />
We returned to the interviewees four to five times. It is always sensitive<br />
and difficult to raise certain questions, for example those<br />
connected with financial statements and labour division between<br />
husband and wife. We all had a hate-love relation with that study.<br />
However, in the end, we all thought in a new way. 94<br />
A particularly useful revelation from the study was the realization<br />
of how important the different height levels were for all agriculture<br />
in the area. All activities are intimately connected to the<br />
height above sea level they are carried out at. Crops, cattle-breeding<br />
and agricultural techniques have to be adapted to this height. 95<br />
94<br />
95<br />
Interview with Rudolf Mulder.<br />
Ibid.
The intensive work of the baseline study revealed the shortcomings<br />
of the initial plans, particularly as regards participation issues. It was<br />
now established that communities had to be central to any activity.<br />
The project had to:<br />
• address the communities daily and most urgent problems;<br />
• study community methods for dealing with problems; and<br />
• gain community trust and confidence.<br />
It was important to find out what the beneficiaries needed and to<br />
attempt to meet these needs, and above all to organize the beneficiaries.<br />
When it came to irrigation, activities had to focus on the <strong>water</strong><br />
associations. The essential message was that it is useless to build<br />
anything before local organizations are well established. Every association<br />
must be able to manage the rehabilitation and maintenance<br />
of the canals by themselves.<br />
Concerning technical assistance to agriculture, the initial focus on<br />
crops was deemed unnecessary, particularly since wheat only represents<br />
1% of production in the area. Additional activities generate profits,<br />
such as breeding of guinea pigs, plastic-sheeted greenhouses for<br />
growing new crops, fish dams, etc. Most credit had been granted to<br />
cattle. In the light of this, the project had to concentrate more on combining<br />
credit with technical assistance for grassland improvement.<br />
What the baseline study proved was the great importance of irrigation,<br />
of <strong>water</strong>. It had been correct to assume from the start that<br />
<strong>water</strong> was essential for everything. If a farmer obtained <strong>water</strong> in a<br />
visible and sustainable form through irrigation or as drinking <strong>water</strong>,<br />
it was a sign of progress and meant that his/her production and welfare<br />
would increase. However, the failure of the initial plans was to<br />
ignore the importance of local knowledge and local cooperation:<br />
69<br />
A more-participatory approach<br />
was the starting point of<br />
CARC’s second phase
There is no guarantee that an irrigation project will bring more<br />
<strong>water</strong>. That is mostly a question of good or bad management.<br />
Water use has to be organized in every detail, all along the canals,<br />
upstream and down. It is a question of social relationships, and<br />
how these relations work can only be apprehended in the field. 96<br />
Cholera and Drinking Water<br />
70<br />
The conflicts underlined the importance of direct interaction with<br />
the people living in the area. While working with the baseline study,<br />
trying to learn more about the lives, agricultural activities and personal<br />
priorities of beneficiaries, the CARC technicians gradually<br />
came closer to the inhabitants of the valley. Beneficiary participation<br />
is necessary when trying to find solutions to concrete problems<br />
in particular settings. By paying keen attention to what people say<br />
and want, a community’s real leaders can be identified. Finding an<br />
entry point to village communities does not always mean working<br />
with existing organizations, but finding out who the villagers listen<br />
to and respect.<br />
Nevertheless, age-old conflicts, fears and suspicions were present<br />
in many communities, and the latest social turbulence within the<br />
basin of the Cañar river did not facilitate the difficult task of CARC<br />
staff. A human tragedy unexpectedly turned out to be an important<br />
ally. The spectre of cholera brought people together and made them<br />
realize that they needed outsider support. The need for clean drinking<br />
<strong>water</strong>, which could not be obtained without the joint effort of<br />
beneficiaries and CARC staff, succeeded in breaking down barriers<br />
and forcing people closer together.<br />
A drinking <strong>water</strong> component was planned from the start of the<br />
CARC project, but its importance was not fully realized until the outbreak<br />
of a cholera epidemic. The first drinking <strong>water</strong> system was completed<br />
in March 1993 and soon proved to be an efficient way to enter<br />
the communities. Most technicians agree that without this component,<br />
it would have taken much longer to enlist local cooperation. 97
The epidemic started in 1992 and gained pace in 1993. Remote<br />
indigenous communities were particularly hit. The probable<br />
explanation lies within traditional funeral customs. People gather<br />
for the vigils and share drinks from the same cup. The corpse is<br />
not buried until the third day; after the burial, the personal<br />
belongings of the dead person are washed. The deceased person’s<br />
clothes are likely to be washed in a <strong>water</strong>course used by several<br />
people for washing and even drinking. 98<br />
The hardest hit village was Pacay, where 20 families were contaminated<br />
and seven persons died in quick succession. They<br />
refused to take any medicine, stating that it was God’s will if they<br />
survived or not. They had all gone to a person in Dos Bocas called<br />
the Blonde Child (Niño Suco), who said he was the messenger of<br />
God and ordered them to drink sanctified <strong>water</strong>. It was very hard<br />
to convince them. The first case of cholera was in La Pasta: a<br />
worker returning home from the coast died soon after. More than<br />
1 000 people became contaminated and 30 died. People started<br />
panicking, believing all food and drink to be contaminated.<br />
Several of the affected patients died from dehydration after three<br />
days. People were afraid of touching the sick and the corpses.<br />
However, the emergency alerted the people and the Government<br />
as well. All agencies took part in prevention work and we soon<br />
reached most communities. The cholera epidemic proved an efficient<br />
point of entry into several communities. 99<br />
71<br />
96<br />
97<br />
98<br />
99<br />
Ibíd.<br />
Ibíd.<br />
Interview with Jenny Campoverde.<br />
Ibid. The Niño Suco mentioned in the quotation is a legendary healer, living in an isolated<br />
jungle area in the Cañari lowlands. His real name is Juan José Carpio and he<br />
is now 21 years old, having obtained the gift of curing people at the age of four. The<br />
Niño Suco is often accused of hindering development agencies from carrying out<br />
their work. Notwithstanding, few development workers have actually met him.<br />
When we visited him in the strangely well-organized model village where he lives, he<br />
denied hindering any development work: “I am an uneducated man with a grace that<br />
causes people to come to me. They come out of their own free will. I do not call upon<br />
them, or tell them what to do. They listen to me. I bless them and give them advice.<br />
The only advice I give is that they have to live and respect life. Most people don’t live.<br />
They fool themselves and search for life. That’s their tragedy; they don’t realize they<br />
are alive. If people are sick I tell them to go to the hospital. I would very much like to<br />
have contact with development agencies. We need zinc roofs here in the village and<br />
someone can maybe help us find the sheeting we need”. Juan José, who is white, is<br />
believed to be the son of a priest. He appears quite inoffensive and is highly respected<br />
by his villagers, who consider him a source of pride and respect. He is, as a matter<br />
of fact, a typical example of an unexpected entry point into a community.
72<br />
Providing drinking <strong>water</strong> systems is often a complicated task and<br />
viable solutions vary from community to community. The Cañar valley<br />
provides a rather spectacular example of problem solving in close<br />
cooperation with local people. The community of Cachi Pillcopata is<br />
located just outside El Tambo in one of the most conflict-sensitive<br />
and complicated areas covered by CARC’s activities. Land is very fertile<br />
and is probably the only reason people have risked making their<br />
living here. The earth is constantly moving. The deep soil clings to a<br />
mountainside, which is not steep but has a slope that prevents the<br />
earth from being firmly rooted to the rocky surface. Accordingly, the<br />
soil constantly slides down. However, the movement is very slight<br />
and almost impossible to notice.<br />
Drinking <strong>water</strong> arrived not so long after the land reform. Already<br />
in 1963, La Misión Andina helped us by providing <strong>water</strong> to almost<br />
all the families. They had to use rubber tubes because of terrain<br />
difficulties. Nevertheless, everything was done in vain. The tubes<br />
burst and cracked because of earth movements. In one year, the<br />
entire system was destroyed. 100<br />
CARC technicians considered Cachi Pillcopata a challenge. There<br />
was conflict in the community. It controls one of the irrigation canals<br />
from Culebrillas, the Cachi-Banco Romerino Pillcopata, and an<br />
important canal providing <strong>water</strong> to the fields of 80 families. The<br />
<strong>water</strong> association was split because of differing opinions concerning<br />
the damming of Culebrillas. It was difficult to get the members to<br />
work together in maintaining the irrigation system.<br />
However, when discussions concerning the drinking <strong>water</strong> system<br />
emerged, people were willing to cooperate. Together with CARC’s<br />
technicians, community members came up with an ingenious solution<br />
to their problems. Thin <strong>water</strong> tubes were erected above the<br />
The “electrical <strong>water</strong>” is a<br />
drinking <strong>water</strong> system<br />
invented by the community<br />
of Cachi Pillcopata
ground on poles that looked like old-style telephone poles. The tubes<br />
were attached to the poles with springs and the poles could be displaced<br />
if the earth moved too much in an area. Poles and springs<br />
meant the entire tubing system was flexible and thus no longer<br />
threatened by earth movement. Members of the drinking <strong>water</strong> committee<br />
constantly monitor tubes, poles and springs and the system<br />
has now been functioning for various years. The tubes provide drinking<br />
<strong>water</strong> to 64 families and the so-called “electrical <strong>water</strong>” 101 is a<br />
source of local pride. The system has even been the object of a television<br />
programme distributed worldwide by the BBC. 102<br />
The success of the “electrical <strong>water</strong>” apparently brought the villagers<br />
closer together. Even though Culebrillas was never dammed,<br />
villagers now work very effectively in restoring and maintaining their<br />
73<br />
irrigation system. People declare both the drinking <strong>water</strong> systems<br />
and the canal as a wonder, which is largely thanks to the efforts of<br />
CARC staff.<br />
In cooperation with PROTOS, a Belgian NGO, CARC is presently<br />
providing drinking <strong>water</strong> to communities throughout the Cañar area.<br />
So far, an appropriate network of drinking <strong>water</strong> has been completed<br />
and several new pipelines are in preparation in order to set up a<br />
drinking <strong>water</strong> system for the whole Cañar area. A drinking <strong>water</strong><br />
system involves capturing the <strong>water</strong>, often high up in the mountains,<br />
and bringing it down through tubing to tanks and chlorification stations.<br />
From there, it is distributed to households. Users have established<br />
their own committees to maintain the system and have organized<br />
the daily chlorification task.<br />
The construction of the systems is not the most difficult and most<br />
important part of it all. User organization is the most essential<br />
component in everything we do. 103<br />
100 Interview with Julián Guaman.<br />
101 The tubes and poles of the <strong>water</strong> system resemble the poles and wires of a rural<br />
electrical system.<br />
102 The evident pride in the system has led to the fact that it is somewhat difficult to find<br />
a coherent version of who really came up with the idea. Some peasants proudly state<br />
that it was their own idea, while some technicians say they got the idea from a<br />
Peruvian brochure.<br />
103 Interview with Pablo Arevalo.
[<br />
The Cañari women work with spade and hoe ]
Credit<br />
Traditionally, <strong>IFAD</strong> projects have a strong credit component.<br />
However, it soon became evident that the credit component was oversized<br />
and that the institution in charge, the Banco Nacional de<br />
Fomento (BNF), was inefficient.<br />
BNF’s procedures were very slow. Loan negotiations and delivery<br />
took two to three months. Credit provision cannot afford such slowness.<br />
Farmers need their credit at the right time. They depend on<br />
the sowing and harvesting cycles. Interest was market-related,<br />
which became obvious when it sky-rocketed during the war with<br />
Peru in 1995. Since borrowers knew that BNF was a state entity,<br />
some of them assumed, or pretended to assume, that the money<br />
was given away by the project. There were also incidents of corruption,<br />
the bad customs of authorities. 104<br />
In 1997, 40% of the loans had not been duly recovered. Through very<br />
intensive and effective work, the project managed to recover 99% of<br />
the loans by November 1998. A new agreement was signed with the<br />
cooperative Jardín Azuayo.<br />
The credit component is presently functioning efficiently, with<br />
80% of the loans going to cattle-breeding, and the rest to small<br />
industries and handicrafts. The procedures take 15 days and loans<br />
are paid in due time. 105<br />
75<br />
Gender and Migration<br />
The Cañari rural women tend to be overloaded with work. The<br />
women have traditionally been constrained to take part in all agricultural<br />
activities and not only those lying within the traditional<br />
female sphere, i.e. the house and immediate surroundings. It is traditional<br />
women’s work to tend to health and food preparation for<br />
their families, as well as take care of children, poultry and guinea<br />
pigs. 106 There are few traditional taboos concerning women’s work<br />
and they often work alongside the men. Also within the mingas, the<br />
communal work groups mending roads and reconstructing canals,<br />
104 Interview with Juan Segarra, employee at the cooperative Jardín Azuayo.<br />
105 Interview with Rebecca Pichazaea, who almost singlehandedly recovered the<br />
lapsed loans.<br />
106 Guinea pigs have always been a very important source of meat for Andean people.<br />
Domestication of guinea pigs appears to have already begun by 5000 B.C. In<br />
English, a guinea pig is a truly misnamed animal, being neither a pig nor from<br />
Guinea. Europeans probably assumed that the animal came from Africa (Guinea),<br />
where they ended up through the slave trade (Morales (1994), p. 130).
76<br />
women work with spade and hoe in addition to carrying heavy loads<br />
of stone and gravel. The only definitely male occupation is ploughing<br />
the fields.<br />
By the time of the Spanish conquest, there were more women than<br />
men in the Cañari area, which is still the case today. For the last hundred<br />
years, many Cañari men have been seasonal workers in the<br />
coastal areas. In order to gain extra income, they work on plantations,<br />
shrimp farms or in the building industry. They often stay away<br />
from home for an average of two weeks to a month, and contracts<br />
generally run for two weeks at a time. Work is available on banana<br />
plantations, shrimp farms and in building all year around, while the<br />
sugarcane zafra lasts for six months. 107<br />
During the last five years, the Cañar area has witnessed an<br />
unprecedented mass exodus to the United States, Canada, Spain and<br />
Italy. Most Ecuadorian emigrants work in agriculture, in restaurants,<br />
or for various cleaning companies. In the United States, they are also<br />
employed as industrial workers. An estimated 660 000 Ecuadorians<br />
live in North America, and 40 000 in Europe. 108 Since most migration<br />
is illegal, it is difficult to obtain exact figures. However, an estimated<br />
120 000 Ecuadorians in the 18-35 year-old age group migrated to<br />
the United States and Europe in 1999. During the first half of 2000,<br />
the figure had increased to 400 000. 109<br />
Nowadays, all young people go to the United States. There is no<br />
hope around here. In my district, 15 to 20 youngsters leave every<br />
year. With these bad governments, nothing will change. One of my<br />
sons is working as a waiter in the United States; two other sons are<br />
harvesting grapes in Spain. They have been away for five years<br />
and their families are still here. 110<br />
107 DHV Consultants (1995), pp. 52-54.<br />
108 Freire and Usca (2000), pp. 440-41.<br />
109 El Mercurio, 18 July 2000.<br />
110 Interview with Luis Octavio Lema, El Tormento.<br />
111 Interview with Manuel Zaruma, Molino Huayco.<br />
112 Interview with a women’s group in El Tambo.
I am also planning to leave for the United States. It will cost me<br />
USD 8 000. The coyotes live close by. I know them. They will take<br />
me on boat to Guatemala. From there, I have to go on foot over the<br />
border. They cooperate with other coyotes. Since there is no complete<br />
security, you pay half the sum here and half if you manage<br />
to reach the other side. I have family over there. They will take<br />
care of me. However, there is always a risk of getting caught and<br />
then you lose your money. Many people are indebted around<br />
here solely because of such unsuccessful attempts. 111<br />
Migration is particularly difficult for us women. Around here,<br />
more than half of the male population has left us during the last<br />
three years. They have gone to Spain, or to the United States.<br />
Nowadays, many go to Spain. All you need to get in is the passport,<br />
USD 2 000 and a hotel reservation. It is expensive, but more<br />
secure than leaving for the United States. The men leave and then<br />
we don’t see them anymore. It is not easy to return when you are<br />
illegal. Some send money but not many. Most prefer to bring the<br />
money back with them if they ever return. Worse, some of them<br />
have left us with debts. It costs USD 10 000 to leave and many of<br />
them work for two years just to be able to pay back their debts.<br />
That is if they haven’t left the payment to us. It is not easy for<br />
them to adapt themselves when they come home again. We<br />
women have to do all the work at home and in the fields. Some of<br />
us have even learned how to plough. We help one another. CARC<br />
is helping us with technical assistance. We have started to grow<br />
potatoes with their help and guinea-pig breeding has proved to be<br />
a good business. 112<br />
77<br />
Women’s group<br />
de El Tambo
78<br />
Although Cañari women often become organized and are forced to<br />
take decisions on their own, there is still the tradition of the man<br />
being responsible for all major decisions concerning his family. It is<br />
thus still commonplace for a woman to have to wait for her husband’s<br />
opinion even if he might be far away in the United States or Europe.<br />
While Ecuadorian women are free to sign all papers, both signatures<br />
of a married couple are sometimes needed on certain documents and<br />
this may cause problems for women with absent husbands. Further,<br />
fewer women than men know how to read and write. This has led<br />
CARC to introduce an adult literacy course as part of its efforts to get<br />
women organized.<br />
As in most rural development programmes, it soon became apparent<br />
that gender issues had to be addressed on a broad basis. Since<br />
women participate in all agricultural activities, it was inefficient for<br />
male technicians to manage men exclusively, and women to manage<br />
women. Nonetheless, given traditional restrictions applied to women,<br />
the formation of women's groups could on occasion be recommended.<br />
CARC gender staff have constantly been searching for an efficient<br />
way to deal with this thorny issue. They have been involved in an<br />
ongoing learning process. A major achievement is that all internal<br />
training is now indiscriminately directed towards all staff, men and<br />
women alike.<br />
Rural development projects often have to address gender problems<br />
on two fronts: among beneficiaries and also among technical personnel.<br />
CARC has been no exception:<br />
I came to CARC during a decisive period of my life. I have four<br />
children and have been working for ten years as a college teacher,<br />
dealing with learning systems. I have also worked 12 years as a<br />
sociologist specializing in rural development. Before I came to<br />
CARC, I had done a historical study of indigenous cosmovisions<br />
The CARC project constantly<br />
searchs for efficient ways<br />
to deal with gender issues
and the people of Azuay. I came to the project during its worst<br />
period. No one liked the organization and I came as an unwanted<br />
person. I came from the outside, from Cuenca. I was a sociologist<br />
and a woman supposed to promote gender issues within a<br />
male-dominated, technically biased project. The social component<br />
was marginalized and the least popular of them all. It was<br />
difficult to address the gender issue, but I got valuable help from<br />
a Dutch gender expert. We were able to widen the gender aspect,<br />
moving away from an area that related women exclusively to<br />
handicrafts and tailoring. We addressed problems such as illiteracy,<br />
monolingualism, migration, etc. We tried to introduce<br />
women to all activities. Eighty five per cent of the people that<br />
came to the training sessions were women; yet women worked<br />
with women, and men with men. We studied all the components<br />
from a gender aspect and finally succeeded in convincing people<br />
that all activities had to be united under a common vision. 113<br />
79<br />
Politics and Renovation<br />
While the CARC project continued its assiduous effort of reformation,<br />
complicated manoeuvres shook Ecuador. The worst political<br />
crisis came in 1996, when Abdalá Bucaram won the elections with a<br />
populist programme that immediately capsized. The country suffered<br />
enormous increases in the prices of electricity, gas, telecommunications<br />
and transport. The year 1997 opened with a general<br />
strike and Bucaram fled to Panama, followed by a hailstorm of corruption<br />
and mismanagement accusations. 114<br />
By August 1996, CARC investments were coming to a halt and the<br />
project experienced a tumultuous period of almost unchecked politicization.<br />
In January 1997, a process of non-renovation of 75% of the<br />
technicians began, while all activities were suspended for two<br />
months in connection with Bucaram’s downfall. However, the project<br />
started up activities again in March 1997, this time with 50% indigenous<br />
personnel, proof of the more-direct participation of farmer<br />
organizations in project execution. 115<br />
113 Interiew with María Solís.<br />
114 Holmberg (1998), pp. 16-18.<br />
115 CARC (1998), p. 3.
So far, the project has survived the comings and goings of five presidents<br />
and ten ministers at the national level, as well as seven project<br />
directors. Two factors appear to have ensured this survival:<br />
• a nucleus of dedicated and efficient local technicians, and<br />
• the continuous presence of Dutch technicians.<br />
The Farmer Coordinator<br />
80<br />
The violent conflicts regarding the damming of Culebrillas, the<br />
complicated relationship with UPCCC and other organizations, the<br />
reformulation of the entire project and a constant barrage of<br />
rumours and accusations – all these factors forced CARC to undertake<br />
a meaningful dialogue with the area’s most important farmer<br />
organizations.<br />
The main criticism of the project was that it did not fulfil its mission<br />
because of political conflicts. Furthermore, some technicians<br />
did not show any interest in working directly with the communities.<br />
I am from the parish of Zhud and a member of UPCCC. I was<br />
chosen by the UPCCC general assembly and accepted as coordinator<br />
by AINCA, AIEC, UCOIT, ASOAC and AICT. Through dialogue<br />
and debates, we succeeded in reaching total consensus<br />
about the future direction of CARC. Fifty people, technicians and<br />
farmer representatives, participated in the initial workshop and<br />
the final document was signed by the presidents of each organization<br />
and the CARC director. 116<br />
Through this consensus and the integration of indigenous technicians,<br />
the project was ready to launch the reformulated programme,<br />
which was firmly based on the baseline study. The project finally<br />
touched ground and activities were more focused in the following<br />
years, as well as being more accepted by the Cañari population.<br />
116 Interview with Fray Idolgo Gliuicota Quishy.<br />
117 Interview with Manuel Espíritu Quishpe, representative of the Asociación de trabajadores<br />
autónomos indígenas de Zhud (ATAIZ).<br />
118 Interview with Rudolf Mulder.
Irrigation<br />
The Culebrillas initiative was definitely shelved, which was a great<br />
disappointment to many Cañaris:<br />
First, I would like to express my gratitude for everything my<br />
organization and I have received from CARC. The training has<br />
been magnificent. I have not studied, but now I know about pesticides,<br />
how to take care of my animals, both large and small. I am<br />
able to apply everything I have learned. I am very happy with my<br />
guinea-pig breeding. We have our handicraft workshop, the store,<br />
the drinking <strong>water</strong> and many other services offered by the project.<br />
However, we have not been able to get everything we wanted. Time<br />
has been short and I am sorry for that. Worst of all was that we<br />
could not get the irrigation. I know this was due to forces outside<br />
the project’s control. I am so sorry for that, because our agriculture<br />
will not progress, in a real, profound sense, without <strong>water</strong>.<br />
Lack of <strong>water</strong> castigates us. All project staff have done their best. I<br />
know that. Nevertheless, ...we had hoped for the <strong>water</strong>. 117<br />
I am not so sure anymore. I fought for the Culebrillas project, but<br />
it was wrong from the start. The conditions were not there. We<br />
learned the importance of participation. It is possible that we<br />
achieved more, as everything turned out, maybe more than we<br />
could have gained with Culebrillas. 118<br />
The dam was not built in Culebrillas, but irrigation remained the<br />
cornerstone of the project. Several canals have been rehabilitated<br />
and a new one, Chontamarca, was constructed. Huge reservoirs have<br />
been built and the smaller canals in fields and pastures have become<br />
more effective. Sprinkling systems have also been introduced.<br />
81<br />
Indigenous people in Zhud<br />
Through the integration of indigenous<br />
technicians, the CARC project has received<br />
the support of the Cañari population
[<br />
Irrigation is the cornerstone of the CARC project ]
How does an irrigation system work? What does it look like? All<br />
systems are different. The canals run across mountainsides, through<br />
thick forests, over lush meadows, along dusty roads. They follow different<br />
courses, combining engineering skills with natural peculiarities.<br />
Walking along an irrigation canal makes you aware of the<br />
human endeavour involved in its construction and use. It becomes<br />
clear that irrigation is far from being a purely technical activity concerned<br />
with height of fall, <strong>water</strong> flow per second, filtration, etc. The<br />
people who use the <strong>water</strong> must share it in a just way, they must care<br />
for the <strong>water</strong>, protect their canal, and they must do it together.<br />
High up, close to the lagoon, there is the dead part of the canal of<br />
Chuichun, reconstructed and dressed by a minga consisting of 80<br />
people and 15 horses. The upper part of the canal is characterized as<br />
dead because there are no irrigation users up there. A canal is alive<br />
only if it is used. Three hundred metres of the Chuichun are going to<br />
be dressed with cement under the leadership of a ‘master’, who is<br />
elected by a <strong>water</strong> association. In this particular case, the original<br />
‘master’ had problems cooperating with the mingas working underneath<br />
him and the association eventually sacked him.<br />
CARC is financing the material and technical assistance, while<br />
the association provides the work. The procedure is always the<br />
same: the association presents a proposal, the CARC engineer investigates<br />
the terrain and calculates the work that has to be done and<br />
discusses this with the association. A financial plan is agreed upon<br />
and the final design is established. Finally, the association is socialized,<br />
i.e. an agreement is prepared by CARC and the association.<br />
The association proceeds to elect a ‘master’, preferably a member of<br />
83<br />
A canal is alive<br />
only if it is used
84<br />
the community, who proposes how material will be obtained and the<br />
work organized. The engineer authorizes the management, the<br />
agreement is signed and CARC deposits the money into the association’s<br />
account.<br />
When the building site is approached, there is a dirt road opened<br />
up across the mountainside to allow gravel and sand trucks to come<br />
as close as possible to the dead canal. It is very misty and, after driving<br />
along the difficult road, one is confronted with a scene of Biblical<br />
proportions. In the mist, a long row of people is entering a dense forest<br />
along a narrow path. Women, in the majority, and girls and boys<br />
are carrying heavy loads of wet cement and gravel in huge bundles.<br />
Another group, also mostly women, is filling the bundles from a<br />
huge pile of gravel and a smaller one of cement. The people are carrying<br />
their loads along the narrow, slippery path to the work place<br />
at 1 500 m. They come from two communities and eight different sectors.<br />
They work for a few days until another group replaces them.<br />
Anyone who does not come to the minga must hire another worker<br />
or pay a penalty, fixed by the association.<br />
The path is very narrow and slippery along the canal. The distant<br />
murmur of an invisible river cutting through the forest far down<br />
below, is heard constantly, boulders and roots are encountered<br />
along the path, making the progress of the cement bearers even<br />
more cumbersome. The colourful skirts of the women are barely visible<br />
in the humid haze. No one is talking, all are concentrated on<br />
their task, walking fast, but carefully checking where they put their<br />
feet. They reach the work place, where the ‘master’, the president<br />
and the secretary of the association and other carriers are resting.<br />
It is late and they have left their last load. The workers are no<br />
longer dressing the canal.<br />
A little bit further on is the <strong>water</strong> source. A fast-running river<br />
gushes down the mountainside. This is the San Antonio, which<br />
springs from Culebrillas. The place is very strange, a gorge between<br />
steep, black cliffs, crowned by thick bushes. Around the <strong>water</strong> are<br />
huge trees, with moss hanging from the branches. The river is<br />
steaming in the mist. A cement jetty runs straight into the river,<br />
diverting some of the <strong>water</strong> into the canal. This is the toma, intake,
of the <strong>water</strong>. There are 14 similar intakes along the river, each<br />
diverting <strong>water</strong> into a canal that will carry the <strong>water</strong> kilometre<br />
after kilometre down to the thirsty fields. This is the <strong>water</strong> the<br />
members of the Chuichun <strong>water</strong> association were afraid of losing to<br />
the people of Suscal.<br />
Leaving behind the misty highlands, the Chaucha-Suscal canal<br />
appears. It is 22 kilometres long and the longest canal in Upper<br />
Cañar. This canal does not originate in wild terrain like the<br />
Chuichun; instead it comes from a small river called Chauchas<br />
between green meadows. A rather complicated cement construction<br />
swallows the river and turns it into a fast-running stream within a<br />
cement-dressed canal. The flow is regulated and flows at a speed of<br />
110 litres per second. It is the birth place of the <strong>water</strong> for 74 families.<br />
However, this is a complicated canal, and outright <strong>water</strong> theft is<br />
reported in at least 20 places.<br />
Alfonso Mogroveso Durán is the president of the directory of the<br />
Chaucha-Suscal in the two sectors of Suscal and Gun Chico. Don<br />
Alfonso’s task is to monitor the first nine kilometres of the canal. He<br />
does so every day all year round. He starts in the morning at six<br />
o’clock and finishes work at one o’clock in the afternoon. Seeing him<br />
in action one realizes that it is rather hard work. The canal runs<br />
through forests, under bridges and cliffs, along steep mountainsides.<br />
85<br />
Alfonso Mogroveso Durán,<br />
president of the directory of<br />
the Chaucha-Suscal Canal<br />
Men, women and children work<br />
in the construction of a canal
86<br />
There are branches and leaves everywhere hindering the flow; he<br />
picks them all up. The canal fills with this debris every day. “Last<br />
week I had to drag out a dead horse. It was very difficult”, says Don<br />
Alfonso. After walking for a few kilometres, the first fields are<br />
reached and Don Alfonso checks that the sluice gate is closed properly.<br />
People up here are lucky due to the abundance of <strong>water</strong>.<br />
Much further down, the dry fields close to Suscal’s graveyard are<br />
found. Here the canal is nothing more than a dirty ditch, without<br />
cement support and filled with dirt and trash. This is the tail of the<br />
canal and it would have been filled with <strong>water</strong> if people higher up<br />
had stuck to their quotas. Just a few hundred metres up, there is still<br />
<strong>water</strong> running and people have, with the help of CARC and PROTOS,<br />
constructed huge reservoirs and dressed the canal. Up there, several<br />
tubes criss-cross the fields, illegally ending up in the canal. This is<br />
the problem with irrigation canals. The less <strong>water</strong> there is, the more<br />
eager people are to get it, and thus they happily exceed quotas and<br />
steal <strong>water</strong>. There is not enough <strong>water</strong> down here anyway, as people<br />
up in the mountains have taken more than they were allotted.<br />
Social stratification is evident here. The people living by the<br />
canal’s upper course are white and better off than the indigenous<br />
people and mestizos living further down. The people at the bottom<br />
work in the mingas higher up, which often leads to tension.<br />
Another canal is being built in the lower parts of Cañar. This area<br />
is mostly inhabited by poor mestizos, who have often worked as daylabourers<br />
on the plantations in the Highlands and have moved down<br />
to the dry lowlands in order to get some land of their own. Many of<br />
these are seasonal workers in the cane fields or the huge banana<br />
plantations near the coast. Luis Octavio Lema is the ‘master’ for the<br />
construction of the new canal El Tormento. The building of the canal<br />
is extremely complicated as it follows a steep mountainside consisting<br />
mostly of fairly loose sand. It seems to be a dangerous job, clinging<br />
to the cliff and pouring cement into the ditch of the unfinished<br />
canal. The canal will take <strong>water</strong> to a village and will probably revive<br />
agriculture there. Since the canal is quite short and destined for a<br />
relatively homogenous group of people, there will probably be no<br />
conflict surrounding this one.
The Mestizos?<br />
Up to this point the description of the CARC project has been concentrated<br />
on conflicts over <strong>water</strong> and ethnic tensions. This demonstrates<br />
the obstacles the project has overcome and how its executors<br />
did their best to foment dialogue and establish cooperation among<br />
beneficiaries. However, the indigenous people were not singled out<br />
as the sole beneficiaries. Many mestizos and whites also benefited.<br />
An example is David Lizandro Verdugo Martínez, president of the<br />
Cantonal Agricultural Centre of Cañar. Despite his role as a teacher<br />
of general culture, he says this does not hinder him from being a cattle<br />
breeder and an agriculturist. “I am from Cañar and 90% of the<br />
people from Cañar have something to do with agriculture.”<br />
David Lizandro is one of the organizers of Cañar’s annual fair of<br />
cattle and agriculture, sponsored by CARC. Like many older people<br />
from Cañar, he laments the latest development, stressing that different<br />
governments’ lack of interest in agriculture is killing the<br />
Ecuadorian countryside. According to David Lizandro, Ecuadorian<br />
politics are characterized by too much talk and self-interest. His discourse<br />
reveals some themes common to white people in the valley. It<br />
is difficult to judge if his opinions reflect a certain amount of racism,<br />
or if they are intended to be a statement of actual facts:<br />
The exodus of people in search of dollars is getting worse every<br />
year. The money that comes back is not invested in land or agriculture,<br />
but in houses and luxuries. The indigenous people are<br />
growing stronger. They move into the towns and have more children<br />
than we have. A new class is taking shape and it is not constituted<br />
by the indigenous people of the countryside. This is an<br />
entirely different group of people. They are talking about revenge,<br />
but without reason. Marginalization is taking place, a polarization.<br />
A certain group of people are supported by outsiders. In ten<br />
87<br />
Construction of the<br />
new canal El Tormento
88<br />
years’ time, you will see the end of the Granary of Austral. They<br />
say that CARC has favoured the indigenous communities. It is not<br />
true. CARC has done a good job. A practical and unpolitical job.<br />
CARC treated everyone in a decent way and worked with all<br />
groups, without making any distinctions. If people say that CARC<br />
has exclusively favoured the indigenous populations, then I am<br />
an indigenous person as well. 119<br />
The road building component was not given a high priority. However, it<br />
was vitally important in one case – the road to Paguankay. This formerly<br />
isolated place lies in the lowlands, just above the Cañar River. The<br />
landscape is almost tropical. The mestizos living in this area used to<br />
make a living on agua ardiente, a strong alcohol made from sugarcane.<br />
It came as a complete surprise when the representatives came<br />
here and asked if we wanted a road. I confused them with politicians<br />
and thought they were going to fool me in some way or<br />
another. ‘We can build a road’, they said. ‘Yes, and donkeys have<br />
wings’, I answered them. After two months, they returned with<br />
machinery and asked for a minga. In six months, they built the<br />
road, together with CREA, and our lives changed completely.<br />
When the road was finished, they came with many offers: credit<br />
for buying pigs, to install a communal store, storage for beans,<br />
new varieties of maize and beans. I took credit to buy pigs. I<br />
installed two silos. I opened a nursery. I installed a small carpentry<br />
shop with machinery to sculpt tagu nuts. 120 I have a nice<br />
garden plot and a nursery for worms; I sell both worms and tree<br />
seedlings with good profit. I have tried to make use of all offers<br />
and have not lost anything. 121<br />
Anselmo is typical of many small farmers able to benefit from the<br />
model of integrated farming systems introduced by the project.<br />
Furthermore, Anselmo is successful in the sense that his neighbours<br />
are adopting several of the innovations he has tried out on his small<br />
farm. This process is probably facilitated by the fact that many of his<br />
neighbours within the small village of Santo Domingo Paguancay are<br />
related to him.<br />
119 Interview with David Lizandro Verdugo Martínez.<br />
120 When dried, these big nuts become extremely hard. Polished and sculpted into small<br />
effigies of animals they look as if they were ivory, and the nuts are thus often called<br />
organic ivory. The small sculptures are becoming increasingly popular handicraft items<br />
for tourists visiting Ecuador.<br />
121 Interview with Anselmo Calló.<br />
122 Ibid.<br />
123 Interview with Paola Guaman.
What Can We Learn from the CARC Project?<br />
Considering the difficulties and fierce criticism that the project<br />
has faced, today it is amazingly difficult to find critical voices. Much<br />
of the present critique is not emphasizing any direct failure; what is<br />
voiced is more the sense of disappointment that follows high expectations:<br />
“It was not as revolutionizing as we thought it would be”.<br />
“They hired more outsiders than locals”. “It is coming to an end just<br />
when it starts to function and deliver”. “The dam of Culebrillas was<br />
not built, but as long as CARC was here we had a hope, and they did<br />
much for drinking <strong>water</strong> and irrigation anyway”.<br />
Nevertheless, people able to participate in CARC programmes,<br />
mostly farmers from remote areas, tend to be grateful for the opportunities<br />
received:<br />
A lot has changed for me through the project, this new way of looking<br />
at things –how to live an organized life both as a person and<br />
as a member of a group has had great importance for me. 122<br />
It is strange, but I feel that my husband is supporting me. Gender<br />
is gaining ground. We are more responsible as women than we<br />
were before. Now husband and wife have something like an agreement.<br />
We are making decisions together. Before there was much<br />
discrimination against us women. However, men are now learning<br />
to take us seriously. When we demonstrate that we are conscientious<br />
and able to earn money for the household, we gain<br />
respect. This is something we teach our children and it gives me<br />
hope for the future. 123<br />
89<br />
Anselmo Calló, a small farmer,<br />
has introduced integrated farming<br />
systems on his small farm
I like to work and CARC has given me plenty of opportunities to<br />
do that. The credit is excellent; previously the high interest was<br />
crippling. CARC offers me not only a better income, but also training<br />
and introduction to new methods. 124<br />
90<br />
In 1995, I had my first contact with CARC, obtaining training and<br />
improved potato seeds. After that I received more training and<br />
became the beneficiary of a drinking <strong>water</strong> programme. I have<br />
benefited a lot from my collaboration with CARC. When they<br />
leave, I feel a little like a young man who has been brought up by<br />
his father and now is left alone to use his skills. 125<br />
What is conspicuous in many of the encounters with CARC beneficiaries<br />
is their appreciation of the training they have received. This<br />
may be a manifestation of the thirst for knowledge among a social<br />
class that for too long has been excluded from education and influence.<br />
The project technicians also often summarize their experience<br />
as a process of learning:<br />
It has been like a school for me. I have learned a lot within different<br />
fields of knowledge and now realize the importance not only<br />
of technical skills and knowledge, but also of social skills and<br />
insights. This will surely be very helpful for me in the future. 126<br />
The project is now drawing to a close. It leaves behind the following<br />
benefits: improved and new irrigation systems; a road that opened up<br />
a remote community to the surrounding world; an efficient credit<br />
cooperative; plastic-sheeted greenhouses for fruit and other important<br />
market products; more efficient guinea-pig breeding methods to<br />
ensure better prices throughout the region; better knowledge of integrated<br />
farming systems; and more efficient <strong>water</strong> committees and<br />
appropriate drinking <strong>water</strong> systems.<br />
124 Interview with Juan Tapia Vásquez.<br />
125 Interview with M. Espiritu Quizhpi.<br />
126 Interview with Clever Padrón.
The project has also introduced efficient NGOs capable of serving<br />
beneficiaries’ future needs, including CICDA/CEDIR, SENDAS and<br />
PROTOS. These organizations offer knowledge and experiences<br />
gained in similar areas in other countries, combined with familiarity<br />
with the realities of the Cañar river basin obtained by current<br />
staff through their work with CARC. They will continue their work<br />
with the support of the Royal Embassy of The Netherlands in<br />
Ecuador.<br />
CARC started out as a highly technical programme within a society<br />
marked by conflict. It entered onstage at the time of an ongoing<br />
process and naturally became another actor. The project was<br />
attacked and slandered, but staff kept calm and patiently engaged in<br />
building up a dialogue with the other actors. Political games were<br />
avoided and technicians concentrated on direct cooperation with<br />
people at the small-scale farm production level, helping to organize<br />
them and learning to listen to farmers.<br />
Hatun Cañar thirsts for <strong>water</strong> and knowledge. Much of the story<br />
about Cañar has been focused on <strong>water</strong>. The purpose was to trace the<br />
role of <strong>water</strong> in the minds and lives of the area’s inhabitants. The<br />
extremely important fact of who owns and controls the <strong>water</strong> and<br />
who does not have access to it has often occupied center stage. It is<br />
clear that power – power over land and <strong>water</strong> – is probably the key<br />
issue in the Cañar area, as it is in almost any other agricultural area<br />
of the world. Of course, it is impossible for a project such as CARC to<br />
influence this fact over night. However, great efforts were made to<br />
help people organize themselves, gain a voice and obtain methods,<br />
tools and instruments that will be useful in providing a living for<br />
themselves and their families.<br />
91<br />
Irrigation and drinking<br />
<strong>water</strong> systems, greenhouses,<br />
guinea-pig breeding and<br />
credit are some of the<br />
benefits of the CARC project
92<br />
Water may be both bitter and <strong>sweet</strong>: <strong>water</strong> is bitter when it<br />
becomes the cause of conflict and when it is hard, or impossible, to<br />
gain access to it; however, it is <strong>sweet</strong> when it enters your fields and<br />
revives them, providing health and strength to yourself and your children.<br />
It is also <strong>sweet</strong> when you gain access to it through hard labour<br />
and joint efforts with your neighbours.<br />
CARC succeeded, often against tough odds, in providing many families<br />
with <strong>water</strong>. Although not everyone was able to obtain the coveted<br />
liquid, most people realized that the best hope for obtaining, and<br />
maintaining, the <strong>water</strong> is by working together, organizing and gaining<br />
knowledge. The hope is that the search continues and that the<br />
Cañaris will finally be able to quench their thirst for strength, knowledge<br />
and <strong>water</strong>.<br />
The story tried to show that <strong>water</strong> is not only a tangible thing,<br />
essential for people’s lives. It is also a mighty symbol of people’s<br />
hopes, their striving. Most mythologies stress the apparent adaptability<br />
of <strong>water</strong>, how it seeks out its place within the landscape, following<br />
the contours of the terrain while reshaping and redefining them.<br />
Furthermore, despite being the upholder of life, <strong>water</strong> is not presumptuous<br />
– it does not superimpose itself. It seeks out the lowest parts of<br />
the landscape, acting from the bottom up. It lets life creep up from the<br />
lowest parts and in that way reaches the entire system. Thus – like an<br />
efficient development project – it acts from the bottom up.<br />
Mishqui-<strong>yacu</strong> (<strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong>).
[<br />
<strong>mishqui</strong>-<strong>yacu</strong>, <strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong> ]
ibliography<br />
94<br />
· Almeida Durán, Napoleón (1990), “Informe asunto Culebrillas” (MIMEO),<br />
University of Cuenca.<br />
· Ayala Mora, Enrique (2000), Resumen de historia del Ecuador. Quito.<br />
· Bark, Albert and Maier, Georg (1973), Historical Dictionary of Ecuador. Metuchen, N.J.<br />
· Bernal, Fabían, Sánchez, Oscar and Zapatta, Alex (1999), Manejo de páramos y<br />
zonas de altura: Relaciones socio-organizativas y legales en el páramo y otras<br />
zonas de altura. Quito.<br />
· Bernand, Carmen (1996), The Incas: Empire of Blood and Gold. London and New York.<br />
· Bolívar Zaruma Q., Luis (1980), Identidad de Hatun Cañar a través de su folklore.<br />
Cuenca.<br />
· CARC (El Proyecto Cuenca Alta del Río Cañar) (1998), Género y Desarollo Rural:<br />
Un estudio de caso de la Cuenca Alta del Río Cañar.<br />
· Cervone, Emma and Rivera, Fredy (eds.) (1999), Ecuador racista: Imágenes e identidades.<br />
Quito.<br />
· Cisneros, Iván, Zapatta, Alex, Sánchez, Oswaldo and Narvaéz, Edmundo (1999),<br />
Riego Andino: Organización Campesina y Gestión del Riego. Quito.<br />
· Clark, Kim (1999), “La medida de la diferencia: las imágenes indigenistas de los<br />
indios serranos en el Ecuador (1920 a 1940)”, in Cervone and Rivera (eds.).<br />
· DHV Consultants BV (1995), Economía Campesina y Sistemas de Producción:<br />
Estudio de Base en la Sierra Andina. Quito.<br />
· de Janvry, Alain and Glikman, Pablo (1991), Estrategias para mitigar la pobreza<br />
rural en América Latina y el Caribe: Encadenamientos de producción en la<br />
economía campesina en el Ecuador. San José, Costa Rica.<br />
· Egues, Miguel (1990). “Opiniones”, El Mercurio, 19 September.<br />
· Einzmann, Harald and Almeida, Napoleón (1991), La Cultura Popular en el<br />
Ecuador: Tomo V, Cañar. Cuenca.<br />
· El Espectador (1992), “Campesinos secuestraron a autoridades provinciales”,<br />
28 November.<br />
· El País (1992), “Autoridades estuvieron secuestradas: Levantamiento indígena en<br />
Cañar”, 1 st December.<br />
· Ferrín S., Rosa (1982), “Las formas Huasipungo de trabajo a la economía comunitaria:<br />
Un caso de transformación de las relaciones sociales de producción”, in<br />
Sepúlveda, Cristian (ed.), Estructuras agrarias y reproducción campesina:<br />
Lecturas sobre transformaciones capitalistas en el agro equatoriano. Quito.<br />
· <strong>IFAD</strong> (1990), “Proyecto de Desarollo Rural de la Cuenca Alta del Río Cañar: Informe<br />
de Evaluación” (MIMEO).<br />
· <strong>IFAD</strong> (1995), “Proyecto de Desarollo Rural de la Cuenca Alta del Río Cañar: Informe<br />
de la Misión de Reformulación” (MIMEO).
· Freire Heredia, Manuel and Usca, Nancy (2000), Almanaque Ecuatoriano:<br />
Panorama 2000. Quito.<br />
· Holmberg, Annica (1989), Ecuador. Stockholm.<br />
· Landívar U., Manuel A. (1997), “Contribución a mitos y leyendas en el Azuay y<br />
Cañar”, in Revista de Antropología, Sección de Antropología y Arqueología del<br />
Núcleo del Azuay de la Casa de la Cultura Ecuatoriana, Cuenca, December 1997.<br />
· León, Jorge (1993), Resumen del análisis preliminar sobre el conflicto en El Tambo<br />
a raíz del Proyecto de Desarollo Rural de la Cuenca Alta del Río Cañar, (MIMEO),<br />
IICA, Oficina Ecuador.<br />
· Morales, Edmundo (1994), “The Guinea Pig in the Andean Economy: From<br />
Household Animal to Market Commodity”, in Latin American Research Review,<br />
Vol. 29, No. 3.<br />
· Moreno Yánez, Segundo E. (1995), Sublevaciones indígenas en la Audiencia de<br />
Quito: Desde comienzos del siglo XVIII hasta finales de la Colonia. Quito.<br />
· Moreno Yánez, Segundo E. (1996), “Formaciones Políticas Tribales y Señorios Étnicos”,<br />
in Ayala Mora, Enrique (ed.), Nueva Historia del Ecuador. Vol. 2: Época<br />
Aborigen II. Quito.<br />
· Pallares Ayala, Amalia (1999), “Construcciones raciales, reforma agraria y movilización<br />
indígena en los años setenta”, in Cervone and Rivera (eds.).<br />
· Perrottet, Tony (ed.) (1994), Insight Guides: Ecuador. Boston, Massachussetts.<br />
· Peréz, Juan Fernando et al. (1997), Catálogo de la Sala del Oro del Museo Nacional<br />
del Banco Central del Ecuador. Quito.<br />
· Pinos de R., Tania and Rodríguez L., Daniel (1994), “Culebrillas, su Represamiento:<br />
Benefício o Conflicto Social”, thesis for bachelor’s degree (licenciatura), University<br />
of Cuenca.<br />
· Rojas J., Heriberto C. (1991), Laguna de Culebrillas y el proyecto de embalse.<br />
Azogues.<br />
· Rossing, Anders (1996), Ecuador: Folk och fakta. Stockholm.<br />
· Torres, Pepe (1990), “Desarollo Rural Integral: Desde el Valle de Culebrillas”, El<br />
Mercurio, 16 September.<br />
· Uriel García, José (1986), El nuevo indio. Cusco.<br />
· Villarroel G., Fernando (1992), “La laguna de Culebrillas y sus páramos misteriosos”,<br />
El Universo, 8 September.<br />
· Zamosc, León (1994), “Agrarian Protest and the Indian Movement in the<br />
Ecuadorian Highlands”, in Latin American Research Review, Vol. 29, No. 3.<br />
· Viteri Gualingai, Carlos (2000), “Ecuador”, in The Indigenous World 1999-2000.<br />
Copenhagen.<br />
95
[<br />
<strong>mishqui</strong>-<strong>yacu</strong>, <strong>sweet</strong> <strong>water</strong> ]