Mama Tungurahua

Well the time has come for another update. I've now moved on once again and for the last two days I've been enjoying the fresh new scenery of a beautiful city high in the Andes called Cuenca. I thought I'd talk a wee bit more about Banos though. Being in the midst of an active volcano was fascinating experience and I only really briefly touched on it in my last post, so I thought I'd go into it a wee bit more with this one.


I was fortunate enough to experience Banos in two very different dynamics. The first dynamic was when I arrived, and what remained throughout the first couple of weeks of my stay. The volcano was very much dormant and it was as if it never even existed. It was covered in clouds and the only time she ever got an acknowledgement was when someone briefly spoke of the activity from earlier in the year. The town seemed to have a nice buzzing energy. This town thrives off tourism and as I walked down the street, I would be offered information and prices on rafting trips by almost every tourism agency I walked past, (these are scattered on almost every street in Banos.) All the locals seemed to be very optimistic, enjoying the influx of tourists as it was building up to the busy season.

I was very energized by this first impression and I even added on an extra week to my volunteer project so I could be immersed in it for a wee bit longer. The thing that really appealed to me was the way it managed to have such an alive energy, but at the same time retain this very strong community feel. This was my first opportunity to really get involved with the people of a community of this type, and after my new found experience from The Amazon I was ready for my next challenge, teaching guitar during the afternoon, and helping out in English classes during the evenings.

As I settled in to my new project, I'd often think of the volcano, wondering what it would be like to experience the power of it, and how the dynamic of the community would change when faced with it. I'd heard stories of the town being shaken in the past, but I was very interested in experiencing it for myself. On one Friday morning while I was out visiting a sports day at a local school, I was informed that the volcano had become active, and I immediately noticed that parents were going home to get an update on what the news was. As I left to go back to the bib, for the first time I could hear the deep rumbling noises as the volcano started churning into action. They were vey low noises and you could only just hear them, but they had a very intimidating tone to them, as if it was a dragon waking up. From this time onwards, the whole energy of the town seemed to change.

The first weekend that it was alive appeared to be the time where people were most cautious. As I walked down the streets, I noticed most people either had a radio or a TV playing with the local reports and predictions of the activity. For me it was initially a feeling of excitement. In a funny sort of way I felt privileged to be experiencing this opportunity which only comes around a couple of times a year. For a start I thought to myself that I'd look at the reactions of the local people and then judge my own caution on that, but I quickly realised that nearly every single person had their own perspective on it, and no one really had a clue what was going on, or what the potential risks could be, even the "experts."

By the end of the weekend the army had moved into town and a slight inevitability was beginning to appear of a possible evacuation. I decided to seek the opinion of various people on the likelihood of it but once again the response was mixed, and ended up confusing me rather than informing me of anything. A couple of the locals had decided to evacuate early, but many where very stubborn, choosing not to go anywhere, taking a more optimistic outlook on the potential outcome. I decied to pack my gear up in case one of the "grab & run" situations were to come up. I found it very amusing watching international news perspectives of the whole situation. With dramatic pictures and stories of damaged villages, at times it gave the perspective as if every town surrounding it was doomed for destruction. It made me realise how unrealistic the world media can be at times.

The following weeks became a roller coaster of opinions & precautions. Some days the volcano would seem as if it had gone to sleep. I would almost forget it was there, but then there would be nights where it would roar back into life, shaking the windows of my room to remind me who was in charge. Most evenings we'd go for a closer look and see if we could get a clear view. On the occasions where the cloud temporarily parted we were able to see spectacular views of ash & huge boulders being thrown effortlessly down the mountain. As the opinions of everyone seemed to change in time, so did my decision on what to do. I was drawn to this spectacular, unique beauty, but at the same time I didn't want to be stuck in an evacuation situation. Since no one seemed to be able to give me a clear idea of likelihood on that, once again I ended just having to make my own decision on how I felt.

After pondering over several different ideas & outcomes, I made the decision to leave a week early. I figured it would give me an extra week to travel before my next project anyway, so after setting my eye on a few good destinations, I set on the idea. I'd really enjoyed the experience of the whole thing, but after a few weeks of it I think I'd seen all it had to offer, apart from an evacuation, which I wasn't all the worried about missing out on if it was to happen! By the time I'd left, the other effects of the volcano were very evident. Whilst Banos was still safe from lava & ash clouds, it wasn't able to escape the effect on it's tourism industry.

As I sat drinking a beer, looking out on the main bar street the night before I left, I noticed that the whole street was empty. Now was supposed to be the time where the young tourists start flooding the streets, enjoying the chance to kick back on their summer break. But with some of the embassies sending out warning emails, not to travel to Banos, and the out of perspective international reports, Banos had been put on the black list of many potential travellers. For a town which relies nearly exclusively on tourists, it appeared to have devastating effect. As I walked past the tour agencies, the once optimistic, chatty guy standing outside selling his tours, was now sitting inside, wondering how to fill his raft for the trip tomorrow morning.

As I left Banos, I didn't feel that I was leaving on the same bright note that I entered it in, but I was still great full for everything that it gave me. I met some amazing people and had many opportunities to help out and get involved in the community. One of the highlights of the whole thing was having children coming up to me in the street yelling out my name, asking me what I'm up to. I came to Banos to get involved on more of a community level, and through volunteering at The Bib I feel I was able to achieve that.