A Missionary Journey

Sharing life and faith with people living a harsh and rugged life in the mountains of Ecuador

By Carolyn Beukenboom
May 2002

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Carolyn does a height and weight check in the community of Pulingui San Pablo, Ecuador. Scarboro lay missionary Carolyn Beukeboom works as a nurse in health care among the indigenous peoples of Chimborazo Province, Ecuador.

Greetings from the land of the volcanoes. Last August I had the priviledge of participating in a one-month mission journey along with the missionary team here in Riobamba, Ecuador. This involved living, working, eating, sharing faith and partaking in the daily lives and struggles of two very special communities, one mestizo (mixed race) and the other indigenous (Native).

I learned a lot from this experience and my eyes have been opened to the realities of life here in Ecuador.

It began when I went to a retreat centre about 15 minutes from Riobamba and met about 30 other participants (from Spain, Mexico and other provinces of Ecuador).

For three days we grappled with the problems facing Ecuadorians: consumerism, materialism, migration, corruption, loss of cultural values, dollarization (replacement of the local currency with the US dollar), destruction of the ecosystem, individualism and so on.

We then discussed alternative efforts such as organizing groups for women and youth, and other community projects; support from other countries (in the form of foreign people working here and in financially-supported projects that help the people of Ecuador); educating on the use of organic fertilization, on knowledge of human rights and participation in peaceful protests.

We then divided into pairs to live, eat, work and be with the poor people of a mestizo community for one week and then an indigenous community for another week.

Two of us were assigned to a small mestizo farm community of about 35 families situated in a valley surrounded by mountains. During the week, skies were cloudy and it rained most of the time, with very cold temperatures especially at night.

Each evening we met with the community to learn about the realities of their lives and discuss topics such as respect for Mother Earth, education of children, loss of cultural values, and community organization—all within the context of a biblical study.

The people were eager to share and discuss openly their thoughts and opinions. Every afternoon I met with the children for an hour of games and sing-song.

A highlight of my week was getting up at 5:30 one morning to walk an hour in the pouring rain through mud, slush, over a river, up and down hills, just to get to three cows to milk (my first experience at milking cows by hand), and then trudging back with the milk containers on our backs. The woman I accompanied did this every morning.

Another day I went to help cook a meal for the workers that came to help out on a farm. There are very few tractors and the work is done mostly by hand. Each worker is paid two dollars for a day’s work including breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I watched a seven-year-old girl take care of her baby sister while her mother worked. This seven-year-old changed the baby’s diaper, and when the baby was hungry she carried the child out to her mother in the fields. Children are given much responsibility at a very early age.

Each day we were invited to various homes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Food is not a shortage within these farm communities. Potatoes, corn and kidney beans are in abundance.

Returning to the retreat centre we spent a few days evaluating our time in the mestizo community and preparing for our visit to the indigenous community. We then headed out again for another quite different experience.

During our time with the indigenous community, we lived in a cement building with a mud floor. The one room had two double beds—one bed for all the children (aged 2, 4, 6, 8) and one for us—with a side room where the parents slept on the floor. Privacy was definitely out of the question as the children’s eager eyes watched every move we made.

The kitchen, where they cooked with gas as well as on an open fire, was in a separate building. They had limited running water available and an outhouse behind the building. The family worked in agriculture and had several hectares of potatoes, kidney beans and barley.

This family was actually quite well off in comparison to some of the other families who invited us to have meals. One particular house was made of mud with a straw roof. Everything—sleeping, cooking, eating, working, playing, taking care of the guinea pigs—was done in one room.

Before we arrived and during our time in this village, the volcano Tungurahua was quite active and spouting out large amounts of ash daily. Skies were grey and even my favourite Mount Chimborazo looked pretty depressing. Much of the snow was gone from its peaks and what little remained was greyish in color.

The falling ash destroyed much of the crops, and the people suffered from respiratory illnesses and skin and eye problems. Grass for the animals had to be washed thoroughly and still many of the animals became sick.

Other areas in the province had started receiving government assistance and medical support, but these remote villages lacked any support whatsoever. It became our mission that week to help however we could.

A group of us fought to get medical assistance for the communities where we were present. We went to several medical authorities in Riobamba, without much luck. After some persistence they told us that a medical van with a doctor would be able to attend to people in the communities for several days.

The van finally arrived, for one day only, at a village lower down the mountainside. The van never made it to the villages at higher altitudes where the need was far greater because of the increased effects of the volcano.

Eventually we did find one doctor who was willing to help out for a day and examine some of the people.

In the evenings, at our regular meetings with the people, we taught them health prevention to further avoid illnesses in relation to the falling ash. At these meetings I was astonished by the people’s faith in God despite all their daily hardships and struggles. With all the problems in relation to the eruption of Tungurahua, the people were thanking God for fertilizing the land. They knew that in the future their crops would be even more abundant because of the volcanic ash in the soil.

Now I am back in my apartment in downtown Riobamba and what a different world it is. All that I have learned makes me question the inequalities that exist in this world. We simply cannot take for granted what we have when we see the lives of others and how they struggle to live daily. We have to be happy with what we have and enjoy all the little precious moments in life.

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