First Day

As directed, I arrived punctually between 9 and 10 am. I think I got a pretty good feeling of how this internship will be structured. After a welcoming, but pretty short orientation, I was showed a computer that housed all the GIS data of previous projects. Since what work has been done previously was in other communities, I gleaned what I could from the processes the previous workers used. Thankfully, several of them left in-depth reports of past projects, detailing how they had gone about engaging community members, what problems they encountered and a great deal more useful information. I also chatted with Guadalupe, the outreach staff person who has been visiting the communities to see if they would like a map done. Since the community Los Naranjo has decided they would like to delineate their property lines, we can start with my part as soon as I arrive. Guadelupe and I planned to meet Thursday in Santo Domingo because she will be in a different town on Wednesday and I still need to find some maps of the area. And that was my next task.

After an early lunch of fried plantains and eggs with a syrupy mango juice, I walked to the Instituto Geografico Militar (IGM), which happens to sit at the very top of a fair-sized hill. At the front gate where visitors receive passes, I learned it’s always good to carry identification. I saved myself from another trek by convincing the guard that my written passport number and name would be enough. Ok, maybe I just acted pitiful and fumbled in my bag for a while before pleading he allow it, but I got in either way.

The cartography office was very impressive; far more professional and modern than its counterpart in Buenos Aires. A woman who manipulated the map database on a touch screen computer helped me locate the topographic maps I needed. Los Naranjo was printed near the bottom edge so I bought the grid to the south as well, since it happens to contain another Tsáchila community, Cóngoma. I purchased two of each to keep on in the office in Quito. Besides the hill, that was easy, but the next map I needed, of community boundaries as created in a government concession years ago, turned out to be a lot harder to get. On goal of this project will be to compare the historic legal boundaries of the community with what is left of their lands after continued encroachment from surrounding ranchers over the years.

Instituto Geografico Militar

The folks at IGM told me to go to CELIR (The Special Commission of Interior Boundaries of the Republic) at the junction of Chile y Guayaquil. I stopped by the Yanapuma office to drop off the topo maps and find CELIR online, but the phone number given on the government website raised no one. I took a taxi this time, as recommended by Guadelupe, to the historical center. With help, I located the Guerrero Mora building (thankful for the practice I had in pronouncing guerrero after living in a province of that name in Mexico), but the first guard told me CELI (they drop the republic part) had moved, which appeared likely since it was full of construction rubble inside. I returned to protest after two people on the street redirected me to the Mora building, but to no avail. After an argument with the man at the front counter through a chest-high opening in the glass, I was told to go to the general tourist office. The lady at the tourist office kindly marked two places she knew were government offices. I went to the closest one first, Department of National Security and they told me to go the Ministry of the Interior at the Presidential Palace. So I put on a business face, walked up to the building where Rafael Correa works and requested to visit the Interior Ministry. I was told to go around back. The security trio at that door told me to go to the Guerrero Mora building, of which I had to convince them was not correct before I could continue. Then the officer at the desk inside told me to go to the Mora building. And so it continued until I was inside the building and finally found someone who was aware of CELI. The chubby bureaucrat at the end of the line listened to my plea and told me all solicitations had to be in writing, addressed to Señor Ministerio del Interior. An hour later I returned with a letter in hand, corrected and embellished by the owner of the internet café I used, but the office had closed at 4:30.

Although I hadn’t achieved everything I hoped, I felt it was a pretty successful day. I had one map and a plan to start work.