One of the main components of my program is experiential learning. Through this pedagogical model, we are forced to get out of our conform zone and traditional classroom setting to experience new people or places that may challenge our beliefs more than through a textbook. One of the main topics we have been focusing on throughout all of my classes has been the “indigenous question” here in Ecuador. Ecuador is home to 14 indigenous nationalities, the largest of which is the Kichwa nationality. We have been studying the effects of development on Kichwa communities as well as their language and their traditional practices. After a few weeks of background information, it was time to travel to the Amazon, or “Oriente” as we say in Ecuador, to see first hand how Kichwa communities live. As we boarded the bus for our 5 day trip to an eco-lodge near the town of Tena on the Arajuno River, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I had always dreamed of going to the Amazon and it was finally coming true. Little did I know how uncomfortable some parts of this trip would make me feel.
On our second day there we boarded a motorized canoe to ride up the Arajuno River to the nearby Kichwa community of Mirador. We had been told that the community had invited us themselves when they heard we were coming to the eco-lodge but I hadn’t thought too much about it before we got there. When we arrived at Mirador, we were led to the community center which consisted of a large open-air shack surrounded by wooden benches. As we took our seats, I noticed the small group of women huddled together wearing what looked like traditional outfits with large, colorful jewelry and painted faces. As I continued to look around, I noticed more and more people coming from their houses to watch as the community center filled with gringos. But these people stood in sharp contrast with the women I noticed earlier. These people, men, women, children, emerged wearing typical “Western” clothing. Jeans, t-shirts, Adidas sneakers, Hollister sweaters.
Our tour guide soon announced that we would be learning about a few traditional practices and then watching a traditional Kichwa dance. The women dressed in ornate clothing began to take center stage, demonstrating how to make chicha (a fermented yuca drink) and showing us their traditional baskets. They then moved into a shamanic demonstration and then into the traditional dance. I tried my hardest to keep my attention focused on the presentation but I couldn’t help me notice the rest of the community huddled around watching us watch the women. The rest of the Mirador community, dressed like any other Quiteño or American, stood around taking videos on their smartphones and even chatting some in Spanish. As naive as it sounds now, it was just becoming clear that this was solely an ecotourism project.
The community of Mirador no longer follows these traditional practices, but merely puts on these presentations to demonstrate what traditional Kichwa communities used to look like. They are attempting to appeal to the Western desire to see “primitive” or “authentic” practices during visits to indigenous communities or developing countries. On one hand, this idea made me highly uncomfortable. I don’t want to be part of an industry that commodifies traditional practices and cultures or plays into new neocolonialist dynamics. But at the same time, this tourism strategy has helped the community build a school and pay for bilingual teachers. The ecotourism scheme has allowed the community to prosper without turning to the oil industry or extractives policies to raise money. In an increasingly globalized world, the idea of ecotourism is ever growing and it is difficult to say what the impacts are. I am still struggling to sort out my own thoughts about this experience and the ecotourism industry overall but I am coming to accept more and more that there are two sides to every coin. As I continue to travel throughout Ecuador, I will carry this experience with me and continue to challenge my beliefs, always being aware of the profound impacts of my actions.
Julia
