July 17, Thursday
After breakfast we drove up to the highest point in Cuenca. It overlooks the entire city and valley. When the Indians settled in Cuenca they built their home on the sides of the hills because they considered the valley, where they raised their food, too holy. That was where they grew their products..their subsistence. The Spaniards, when they arrived, moved into the valley and placed their houses on the best farm land.
At 10:00 a.m. we visited with Senor Cordello in his beautiful older home in a suburb of Cuenca. Senor Cordello's grandfather was a president of Ecuador in the late 1800s. The present Senor Cordello believes his grandfather was a Judeo, or more properly, a descendant of conversos. However, the home has many Catholic religious pictures and icons and there was no evidence ever presented to support his opinion. One of Senor Cordello's sons arrived and he has red hair with light skin and green eyes. The entire family are practicing Catholics and despite a lot of questioning we could not discover a Judaic connection of any type. However, Senor Cordello was an interesting man and he was anxious to show us many of his old artifacts including a chest that purportedly comes from the 16th century and a Stradivarius violin. [Note the faded craftman's inscription on the back of the trunk drawer pictured above. The writing may be a familiar abbreviation for "we believe in the resurrection".]
We ate lunch in a small typically Ecuadorian restaurant and because it was very close to Kurt Dorfzaun's office and plant we made an unannounced visit to him. business is the manufacture and sale of Panama hats. It is a large, successful facility and exports quality hats around the world. The five of us plus Eduardo trooped into his office in what I am sure was a big surprise to him. Kurt is a man of 72, very tall, perhaps 6 ft 3 inches. It is likely that he appears to be a giant to the Ecuadorians.
Kurt and his wife are both holocaust survivors from Germany. He told us the story in which both he and his wife were caught up in the infamous "Kristallnacht" in Germany. His wife, then just a young girl, was burned out of her home and was forced into the streets in her nightgown. Kurt was on his way to his Jewish Day School and local Germans told him to go home because there would be no school that day.
By reputation, Kurt is a pillar of the Jewish Community in Ecuador although he lives in Cuenca where there may be only two identifiable Jewish families. The meeting went well. I think that Kurt was intrigued by the youthfulness, candor and outgoing personality of our Rabbi Zucky. Kurt arranged for us to meet with Yaakov Paron, the Israeli Ambassador at the airport in Cuenca prior to his return to Quito. Kurt also set up a meeting later in the evening with Rose Marie Crespo the Director of Culture for the Ecuadorian government who has an interest is investigating the history of the conversos in Ecuador. Note: Senora Crespo has the same last name as our hotel. We learned that the Hotel Crespo is owned by present day Jewish interests.
For several hours we toured and shopped in Cuenca and then dashed to the airport to meet with Yaakov Paron. Eduardo secured a VIP room at the airport which served as a perfect vehicle for the group to sit in a tight circle to talk with the Israeli ambassador. Paron was fairly tall, thin and the descendant of sephardic Jews who migrated from Spain to Maraca and then Israel. He is a 7th generation Israeli and a professional diplomat with prior service in Philadelphia and Tokyo. He speaks Hebrew and excellent English in addition to Spanish. Interestingly, I thought that his skin coloring, overall physical appearance and mannerisms were close to those of Dr. Rio-Frio whom we had met in Loja. During our conversation the ambassador indicated he had pledged support to a committee at the University of Cuenca for the investigation of the history of Conversos in Ecuador. It appeared that this committee would be headed by Rose Marie Crespo from the Dept. of Culture.
By coincidence, Kurt Dorfzaun was at the airport, also,to meet his daughter who was visiting from her home in Florida. He joined our circle. During the conversation, I dropped a suggestion that we have a joint effort to investigate the history of the Conversos. Neither Kurt nor Paron picked me up on the suggestion. For an instant it crossed my mind that they may consider us interlopers or competitors in this venture.
That night, we enjoyed a quiet dinner, some drinks and we made final preparations for the start of the mule trip into the Andes the following morning. This was a crucial part of the trip. Originally, it was going to be the entire trip before other evidence appeared and I had expanded the itinerary. We were heading to a remote part of the Andes, unreachable by auto, where the residents of an area called Mollepogo lived. We were to investigate a group of Ecuadorians who lived the same life style as the indigenous but were Caucasian. Who were they? Where did they come from originally? Could we connect them to those conversos who had arrived in 1535?
We headed to bed early to get a good night's sleep. At 10:00 p.m. loud music blasted from a patio located off the second floor of the hotel. At 11:00 p.m. fireworks began from the patio and they were so close to my window that I could hear the whoosh sound as they flew by . At 11:00 Zucky banged on the door. He couldn't sleep and he was going for a walk. I encouraged him, instead, to cut the wires to the loudspeaker system. Apparently, men of the cloth don't do that. The music lasted until 2:00 a.m. and I found myself wide awake at 4:00 a.m.
At 6:00 a.m. I got out of bed in disgust. This was a great way to begin our assault on the Andes. It was a tired and angry crew that assembled for breakfast that morning.
Friday, July 18
For the lack of sleep we substituted adrenaline. Up to this point, the trip had been marvelous. We made contact with an extraordinary group of people. We had the beginnings of a rational investigation in Ecuador. However, if the truth be known, each of us had been waiting in anticipation of this part of the trip to Huasipamba in the land of the Mollepogo. This was pure adventure and physical challenge. It was heady!
We drove about 2 hours from Cuenca towards the meeting place with the mule team and its handlers. Along the way we passed the hacienda where Zucky would spend Shabbat. It was still early in the day on Friday and the plan was to have him ride along with us on the mules until after lunch at which time one of the drivers and he would return to the start out point and the driver would take him to the hacienda. Zucky was disappointed that he couldn't make the trip with us but there was no way that he was not going to observe Shabbat.
The trip towards the kick off point passed through a variety of geographical wonders. One of these was Cierro Negro, an area of desert mountains without trace of vegetation. They were black, barren mountains in a hot desert climate. There was no trace of agriculture or homes in the mountains. It was like flying over the desert mountains before you land in Las Vegas. It was barren, black and a moonscape of emptiness. Because of its unusual color, the stark desert and the sharply peaked mountains there was a unique beauty to the area. For me, this was a place to be revisited and photographed at leisure.
Shortly, we passed by that desert area and headed into surroundings with tropical growth. Heavy green vegetation grew along the sides of the road. Finally, we reached our destination. It is a small ranch where several men and women were preparing our mules. was also a sugar cane plantation and mill. The area next to us had a small sugar crushing machine operated by a mule tethered to a post and walking around in a circle. A young barefoot girl of 7 or 8 in a dirty dress walked behind the mule and encouraged him by passing a small switch over his rear every few moments. When she saw me photographing her she scooted away and a young boy about the same age replaced her. The shy little girl watched by peering from a safe vantage point around the corner of the shed. [photo by Andy Loeb]
The sugar cane was pushed into the jaws of an ancient looking crusher while the mule activated the wheels to turn the crusher. At one end of the machine the liquid trickled out into a large vat.
Crushed cane stalks littered the entire area all around the crushing shed.
Next to the shed our mules were being prepared. After learning to ride horseback western style in the U.S. I was surprised by the small wooden saddle strapped on a mule that looked about 3/4 the size of a horse. Zucky said that my animal hadn't been a horse for at least several generations. Over the mule's back were placed a blanket, then the saddle and then a final blanket over the saddle to soften the blow. When I mounted the mule I learned these saddles were intended for Ecuadorians with less dimension from front to back. I found out that if you don't squeeze all the way down into the saddle you do not feel secure. It was part of the adventure. The mules were the result of breeding a horse with a donkey and I learned to appreciate the strength and sure footedness of my animal.
We're off! This was the most spectacular part of the trip. I labeled my mule eschuche or shma because I wanted him to listen to me carefully. There were the five of us from San Diego plus Eduardo the guide, Emmanuel, the driver, Ivan Viajello, a young doctor and friend of Eduardo who helped on the trip, two extra mules loaded with supplies and two locals who walked along the trail to Huasipamba pushing, shoving and cajoling the mules to more activity. These men walked all the way to Huasipamba.
Within one minute of departure we reached a trail 2-2 1/2 ft. wide declining sharply at a 45 degree angle on a base of rock and stone stubble. I was shocked to see the severity of this section of the trail but I didn't say a word. If this was the way I was going to die..so be it. The first guy to cry out "is chicken" and it wasn't going to be me. After a short time, the difficulty of the trail become routine and of no concern. If you let the mule have the reins and make all the decisions you were safe. You entrusted your life to an animal with an IQ of minus 20 but with legs and a back of iron.
`1About 1 1/2 hours into the trip in this tropical jungle we stopped for lunch by a stream in which clear water cascaded down a series of short falls. There was a small wooden covered bridge where we could photograph the pretty stream. There were beautiful and unusual flowers including some wild orchids [mostly bromeliads]. Barry Reder, the pediatric dentist, is an amateur botanist or flower "maven" and he identified plants all along the trip. After lunch, Zucky turned back to return to the jeep and we headed on to Huasipamba.
Initially, the growth was tropical, dense, very green. Slowly, we begin a steady uphill climb that continued for hours. The vegetation changed completely and ultimately, we rode above the tree line. There was green grassy growth and some minor shrubs but no trees. We reached a point at about 12-13000ft. where on one side you could see the desert mountains of Cierro Negro, dark, barren and desert like. On the other side were distant mountains that were green. In the breaks between the peaks you could see row after row of other mountains that stretched to eternity. Eduardo had said no tourists or outsiders made this particular trip. On the way to Huasipamba the only people we met were two miners on their way to work. As we proceeded I had an impression of isolation and discovery of a new land. I had never been in such an isolated and undeveloped part of the world.
When we started, it was warm and I had unbuttoned my hood from my jacket and stowed it away. Now, it began to get bitingly cold. The wind whipped around our bodies and it was difficult to keep my cap on my head. At one point the cap sailed off and the mule tenders went running after it. I learned how to take the cap and hide it inside my jacket when the wind hit the visor from the front. I was envious of the guys who merely tightened their hoods tightly around their heads. When the trail circled around the hills to the protected side of the mountain the wind stopped abruptly and again it was warm and comfortable. At this point, I wore a long sleeved undershirt, a long sleeved flannel shirt, a sweatshirt and an outer jacket. I estimated the temperature in the high 40's or low fifty's but the wind was strong and it felt colder. The air smelled like it does at the top of a ski mountain.
After resting the animals and ourselves for 1/2 hour we were back on the trail. Apparently, this was the only trail to Huasipamba from this direction. At times the trail had been channeled to a depth of two feet by the mules and it was difficult to keep my feet in the stirrups because they were hitting the sides of the channel. I learned to put my feet behind me and farther up on the mule. However, often my feet would slip out of the stirrups which were short and covered in the front Spanish style so that only my toes could fit in the stirrups.
HUASIPAMBA
We arrived in the village of Huasipamba around 5:00 p.m. There was a rectangle of adobe houses with thatched or tinned roofs. The houses were set on a slight incline on the mountain with no protection from the wind or rain. It was wide open. The houses occupied 3 sides of the rectangle with a one room school house and tiny chapel on the bottom short side of the rectangle. In the distance, I could see several other houses that were located a little farther from the rectangle at irregular locations. The entire Huasipamba Community consisted of 9 families and 70 people.
We briefly met with Ricardo Merchan, the president of this community and also the local shaman. His wife helped bring firewood and some cooking utensils to the room. Both were dressed like the indigenous of the area with Ricardo in jeans with a red wool poncho. His wife wore the traditional fluffy skirt embroided blouse and a small white Panama hat perched on her head. Both Ricardo and his wife appeared to be Caucasian. They had height and physical facial features that I considered consistent with Europeans. They certainly did not appear to be similar in physical appearance to the indigenous people we had met in Ecuador.
Our home for the night was a one room, muddy brown, adobe community building at the end of one long side of the rectangle next to the schoolhouse and the water pump. This was a room about 12 ft by 18 ft with a crude fireplace on the floor of a far corner made of several rocks piled up a few inches off the earthen floor. The smoked wafted up to the tin roof and escaped through holes in the roof. The community latrine was a two door hut about 6ft by 6 ft. with 2 holes in the ground located about 15 ft. behind the school house. [This cute wasp and his many kin were found crawling all over the inside of our abode... on the floor, on the table, and upon several of us. They were apparently "stupified" either by the smoke, the altitude, or by both. Our physician friend advised us that they would not sting. He was correct.]
Electricity came to Huasipamba about a year ago in the form of a single naked electric bulb swinging from the ceiling in the center of each house in which the family had paid an installation fee of about $300. Eduardo said that electricity was bound to change the lifestyle of these people. The project of bringing electricity to Huasipamba was responsible for some roads that enabled us to begin our mule trip closer to Huasipamba than had been possible before.
[This doorway to an adobe home is adorned with it's new electrical fixture.]
We spoke with Ricardo Merchan, the major personality of the community. He is the elected president of the community and a recognized shaman. He is about 70 years old, about 5 ft, 7 inches tall and lives with his third wife. We also met Jose who has a tall, thin Caucasian appearance with a sharply hooked nose. We learned that Jose is very entrepreneurial and the following day we rented new mules from him and his cousin Maria. They were our mule tenders from Huasipamba to Pucara. The dress of Jose was more modern. To me he looked like the Portuguese fisherman who worked around Gloucester, Mass. when I lived in that area north of Boston.
The government provided a young school teacher for the community. She looked different and not at all like the inhabitants. She came from a coastal town and spoke Spanish in a rapid fire way that made it difficult for me to understand. I pleaded with her to slow down. She laughed and accommodated me. She had been working there a couple of months and teaches the children in all age levels. She implied that illiteracy is more prevalent than officially acknowledged.
When I asked how often she left Huasipamba during her time off she explained she would have to walk or go by mule to Pucara and then hitch a ride to Cierro Negro and so forth. It was too difficult a process so she hung around Huasipamba on the weekends. She was about 20 years old, had attended some technical college and had the darker skin of a mestizo. The mestizos are a combination of Caucasian and Indian and represent about 45% of the Ecuadorian population.
The Huasipamba people, the people of this community, were for the majority, light skinned, some were green eyed, with lighter brown hair and Caucasian complexions. They dressed like the indigenous, but did not speak the Indian Language," Quechua". They spoke Spanish with a distinctive accent.
Our group developed a strategy of telling the people of the community that we were interested in the history and background of their community. It was our hope that we would discover some clue or hint of a Judaic descendance. It was obvious that the people of Huasipamba did not originate in this area.
The town was built in the 1960's when there was a major land reform in Ecuador and many of these people had been relocated from their historical home in Pucara. The old estates had been broken up and the land was redistributed. In return for their lost land they were allocated this area in Huasipamba.
That evening before dinner the school teacher rang the school bell which was a signal for the community with their children to assemble in the school house. It was arranged for our pediatric dentist, Barry Reder, to examine the children's teeth and at the same time Ivan would examine the children for any other medical problems. Ivan was a physician, had gone to medical school in Ecuador. As part of the school program he served one year of social service after graduation. He had served his year in Huasipamba and was well known to the population.
Everyone gathered in the school house and by this time it was pitch black outside. The single electric bulb hanging from the ceiling didn't provide enough light so Barry used a good flashlight to examine their mouths while Dave Wollner completed a prepared form that Barry had designed in anticipation. Andy took photographs while I tried to take some video shots from a corner of the room without being intrusive. I counted about 25 children from the age of infants through early teenagers with about a dozen parents. This represented about 50% of the population. This picture of Barry examining teeth by the light of the naked bulb and a flashlight emphasized the primitive conditions of life in this community.
All the mothers lined up around the perimeters of the room in their ponchos and Panama hats. A few had infants in swaddling clothes. There are special swaddling materials and blankets. The babies were wrapped tightly so they couldn't move. I was told the babies were kept that way for some time. The babies were then placed into oversize shawls or blankets and strapped onto the backs of their mothers.
Barry said later that for the most part dentistry was unknown to this group. It was a luxury they couldn't afford. In general, the condition of the children's teeth varied from poor to very poor with four quadrants of gross decay and inflammation. Remarkably, in a few cases, the teeth of the children appeared to be caries free which Barry attributed to a genetics. We were told that it was not unusual for the young adults to have complete dentures before the age of twenty.
After the dental examinations, it was nighttime and it was cold. Eduardo and Ivan began to prepare supper in earnest. They heated water over the fireplace and used large pans to prepare "tortillas". My grandmother would have called these tortillas a "feinkochen". This was served with rice (arroz) and a vegetable. But, before dinner Emmanuel, the driver, produced some warm drinks made from rum and fruit juices that warmed our cold bodies. To cap it off, Eduardo produced a bottle of red wine that proved once and for all time, mental telepathy does work.
After dinner, we laid straw mats on the earth floor, placed some blankets over the mats and we staked out locations for our sleeping bags. I found a spot close to the only door in order not to trip over bodies when I went for my customary nighttime trip. We called it a night and lay down to sleep when the wind began to blow and howl. There was a loose tin panel on the roof that would lift off the roof with a gust of wind and then crash down as the wind passed. I guessed that the wind was gusting at 40 to 60 miles an hour. Eduardo took a few tin panels and used them for insulation against an unused and drafty door and window. The wind and the noise kept up for hours and I didn't sleep much. I remember a couple of weird dreams which must mean that somewhere along the night I actually did get some sleep. During that night I decided that I preferred to die of a busted bladder than venture out into that wind.