Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Town of Çuenca, 03/18/08





A bit of description for the town of Cuenca. I have now been here over one week and have had some degree of interaction and exploration. The town is indeed special, albeit a bit confusing and contradictory, with many contrasts within itself. There are really two towns, the old historical El Centro, and the new Cuenca. The southside, which I traverse daily between my house in the new Cuenca, and the school, in the old town, is bordered by the Tomebamba River. The river is flowing roughly and rafting on the rapids is offered in April as more rain comes at the peak of the rainy season. I cannot currently identify the other borders, except to say that when one leaves cobblestone streets and sets foot on asfalta (asphault), you have left the old. The old historical district is totally cobblestone. I can imagine the expense for maintenance to shocks, alignment, brakes and such.

The town is sparkled with churches, some within a stone throw of each other, all beautiful in architectural wonder. Within each, and I have peaked inside several already, are art and craft masterpieces. Beautiful altars, most with excellent carvings of Jesús on the cross, various religious paintings surrounding the walls, often decorated ceilings. Thankfully the climate here is relatively consistent and mild. The spacious areas inside would otherwise consume the donations of its patrons for temperature control. Most are open during the day, and seldom is the sanctuary vacant. Each church exists in separation to serve a different bario, a unique neighborhood with its own variation in Cuencan custom and religious alignment. The town is hugely catholic, though in the last 20 to 40 years other religions have made a presence. Though not catholic myself, I have attended two services with my family. I am impressed by the acceptance of all levels and the dedication to the tradition.

Other architecture in the old town is old World, stucco type exterior walls mostly, iron balcones, some with heavy wooden doors. Reminders of the French Quarter in New Orleáns. I am in process of understanding the commercial ventures. Few stores are any larger than living rooms in our homes. Some no bigger than a walk-in closet. It appears that shoes, knock offs, and pirated CDs are the big interest here. I was surprised to discover that Reebok makes a fine Italian line of black leáther dress shoes. Guessing only, but those two products together seem to amount for half of the businesses. The remainder devote to other clothing, electronics, panderias (bread and pastries), and convenience store types, Internet cafes, and cafes. There are many tiny tiny convenience stores, you could operate from your car. There are also numerous vendor carts with candy and a few more things. Small inventories, many competing with another only a few feet away. Many vendors operate behind an iron gate, and you slip money and goods between bars. Almost all businesses pull down ´garage doors´ when they close, similar to shopping mall stores when they close. Petty theft is an issue here, and I assume this is one way of protection. The second is the large quantity of armed guards, policia, and military that are found throughout the city. Not to be too offensive, but memories of Barnie of Mayberry and Boss Hogg´s posse come to mind. Warnings of how to safeguard your goods from pickpockets and common theft are frequently given. I have met two fellow travelers that have been victims, but in Quito, not here.

The town is full of people throughout the day and evening. The town is between 350,000 and 400,000 inhabitants, in an area not bigger than Pagosa Springs. Where people fit themselves is a secret to me, though from the use of building space I must complement the people for their efficiency. Only a few buildings rise above three stories, and these, except for the church towers, are in the new sectors. There is more than adequate supply of labor for construction, and high technology use for building does not appear necessary. I pass the current building of a five story apartment on my way to class. I have paused to watch the laborers pass cinder blocks by hand from the ground level to the top, just like the stars of western movies passing the water buckets to put out the fire in the barn.

Despite traffic it is obvious that most people walk. The streets are crowded, and the sidewalks way too small to allow three bodies to pass. Brushing against each other is just part of being here. One strangeness to me is the total lack, total, of eye contact. I have had sufficient experiences in large cities, all over, and have not seen disinterest to this extreme. Not sure why. On the other hand, when contact is necessary for business matters and so forth, particularly with my instructors and family, there is nothing but the ultimate in friendliness. The people on the street are all kinds. Business suits, student uniforms, indigenous heritances colorfully dressed and topped with the panama hat, an export of the city. I feel like a giant here. Exceptions, but generally I am taller than all around me. Many are lucky to top five feet. On the other hand, today was the first time I have seen an overweight person and the only one. So, a fair tradeoff it seems.

As evidenced by the markets and my personal experience with my family, freshness is supreme here. Few packages or processed foods found here. I wandered into one of the largest mercados, 10 de Agosto (many places and streets are named after famous dates), that would make Central Market or Whole Foods look like a convenience store. It is huge. Foods of all sorts and many, stacks upon stacks. Fruits and vegetables seemingly in the hundreds, grains, herbs (for food and medicine), a few living animals, and just about any part of a dead animal you could want as well. I think this is where the Godfather got the horse head. Cows, pigs, heads hang clearly for inspection. I could go on. I subsequently found out it also is a great place for the professional pickpocket.

The city is certainly interesting and more remains to be discovered. It appears I have time, and perhaps more will be written later.

2 comments:

TheSnob said...

Dearest Wally-

You should put all your belongings in one of two places to avoid pickpockets...either use your shoe, or your front right pocket. This is the rule of Latin America, and as my father, I assumed you knew as much.

Sounds like you are enjoying yourself, and I hope you are getting the most from your Spanish classes. Please go rafting for me.

Lydia said...

OK, I feel chastised about not having communicated before! So - I love the camera you (we) bought - it is taking fabulous pics. But I do hope you will get someone else to take pictures with you in them - maybe at your salsa lesson! (Boy, would I love to be a little mouse and see that.) Sorry about the picked pocket - you made a lovely target I'm sure - gringo. Take care and see you soon - if you can bear to leave all that beauty. Lydia