Buenos Aires. The BA. This place just keeps getting more and more ridiculous. I don’t really know what to think of this town. They think that they are so independent but at the same time they are so dependent on the government. I feel for them because of their geographic location. They are only 2 hours away from the biggest port city in the country and are only 5 km away from another fairly large community, whom they try to emulate. The problem is that they are still located in the campo. They are still a rural community no matter how hard they try to fit in with the ‘big city’ folk. And the city folk look down upon them as poor campo people. I feel as though the people BA can help themselves, but instead they rely upon handouts from the wide array of government organizations that Ecuador has to offer. And when they don’t have a government organization or the municipality to go to, they spend their hard earned money on frivolous things. One of these things is their yearly festival. A three-day long event for a town of less than 200 people…a little over the top? I think so.
I have been hearing about these parties since I got here. There is a specific Directiva with President, VP, secretary, and treasurer, just to plan these parties. I first got a taste of how serious they take these parties when Leonor handed me a typed letter addressed to me. It was a solicitation for me to buy a ‘colcha’ for the winner of the bull fight. Yes, my little town is set to have two full days of bull fighting. And I have to supply one of the prizes. I expressed my opinion about how I don’t agree with bull fighting because they are hurting/killing the animal for absolutely no reason and because they are chopping down part of the forest to make an area for the arena, but nobody seemed to care and I still had to buy the colcha. The colcha. When Leonor first gave me the letter I asked what a colcha was and she described it as a blanket that you hang on the wall so that the bullfighter can remember his accomplishment. I then asked her where I get one of these and how much it costs. She very calmly informed me that I will have to go to Riobamba to get one. Riobamba is a 2.5-3 hour bus ride up into the mountains. And then she said she didn’t know how much it costs, but that I have four weeks to save up money before I have to buy it…sounds expensive right? At this point I am annoyed. I am trying my best to integrate into this town, but clearly they still think of me as the rich Gringa who is here to offer handouts. As I walked away I realized how ridiculous of a situation this is. I am supposed to find some random thing called a colcha and give it to some drunk dude that decides to fight a bull?
About a week later I was put on a commission to go to the municipality to ask them to bring in machines to clean up the streets and the arena for the bulls. As soon as I walked in the door of the Mayor’s office, I immediately regretted my decision to go with. The president of the community basically groveled at the feet of the sleazy mayor asking if such a great man as the mayor could be so kind and compassionate to lend some machinery to BA to get ready for the festival. It was pitiful. Three adults from BA were basically at the feet of the people in the municipality begging. And they wonder why nobody takes them seriously in Cumandá. The mayor agreed to the machines and the next day a huge tractor/tiller thing showed up to ‘clean’ the streets. Basically the machine just tilled the gravel streets and turned all the trash under the ground. The next day another machine came to cut down all the brush and trees around the corner from my house for the bullfighting arena.
During the week I forgot all about the colcha until there was a community meeting about the festival. At this meeting they handed out a brochure with all of the events and all of the names of the donors of prizes. I should really take a picture of this brochure, because it is intense. The events go from sunrise to sunrise and they last three days. The whole point of the meeting was basically just to read through the events of the festival. In addition to the events, the names of everybody who are donating things were listed. There my name was…the only person actually living in Buenos Aires with a name listed as donating, so much for fitting in. At this point I realized I couldn’t really get out of buying the colcha and decided to make my way up to Riobamba.
I asked around town to make sure that Riobamba really was the closet place that I can buy this thing, but nobody really knew since they have never had to buy one. Most people in town didn’t even know what one looked like. So I got on a bus and headed out on a wild goose chase to find the colcha. I got off the bus and started wandering around town. I was told that every Wednesday (the day I went) there is a fair for colchas, so I began asking around for the location of the fair. Well most people had no idea what I was talking about. I would ask for colchas and people would send me to people selling blankets and sheets. I would then explain to the sheet vendor that I was looking for some prize for bull fighters. This person would then send me away to some random location that I could never find. After 2.5 hours of wandering, I stumbled upon a store front with some glittery fabric-poster things with images of bullfighters. I step in and ask if these were the colcha prizes for bullfighters, and indeed I had finally found the right place. I asked a few more times just to make sure that this actually was the thing I was looking for, since it looked nothing like a blanket (as it was described in BA). The lady asked me what design I would like and what I want it to say. I told her and she informed me that the colcha would be ready to be picked up on Saturday (3.5 days later). I explained to her that I don’t live in Riobamba and that I needed the thing that day. She looked a little perplexed but then said that I could buy one of the pre-made example colchas and she would just need a couple of hours to put the name of my community and date on it. I chose the ‘star’ shaped colcha with the image of a bullfighter and bull on it; the bull is wounded and bleeding red glitter. So I pulled out the festival brochure, and we decided what to write on the colcha. The women in the store were really getting a kick out of the random Gringa sent to Riobamba to buy a colcha. I paid for the thing (ended up being $40…expensive for here, but not absurd) and went to wander for another 3 hours while they finished making the colcha. Luckily, a volunteer works in Riobamba a couple weeks every month and happened to be there while I was there so I had someone to hang out with. I went back and picked up my colcha, and walked to the hostel. I unveiled the colcha from the plastic garbage bag it was in to show the volunteer. We both just sat there a while laughing and looking at this ridiculous thing. It was at this point, that I truly realized how ridiculous my life must seem to other people.
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