I had the opportunity to pass through the dominions of the United Fruit, convincing me once again of just how terrible the capitalistic octopuses are. I have sworn before a picture of the old [and mourned] comrade Stalin that I won’t rest until I see these capitalist octopuses annihilated. Che Guevara, 1953

 In the constitution of this small, maritime banana republic was a forgotten section that provided for the maintenance of a navy. This provision-with many other wiser ones-had lain inert since the establishment of the republic. Anchuria had no navy and had no use for one. It was characteristic of Don Sabas-a man at once merry, learned, whimsical and audacious—that he should have disturbed the dust of this musty and sleeping statute to increase the humour of the world by so much as a smile from his indulgent colleagues. With delightful mock seriousness the Minister of War proposed the creation of a navy. He argued its need and the glories it might achieve with such gay and witty zeal that the travesty overcame with its humour even the swart dignity of President Losada himself. O. Henry, Of Cabbages and Kings, 1904

Costa Rica was one of the original banana republics. The term refers to politically unstable countries with economies dependent upon the exportation of bananas. In 1901, the American author O. Henry coined the term to describe Honduras, which at the time was in a position of economic dependence on the United States, leading to exploitation by U.S. corporations, such as the United Fruit Company. Most banana republics are very stratified socially. The peasant laborers are ruled over by wealthy business owners, politicians, and the military elite (White 1984). A banana republic is a country with a capitalistic economy run by the state. The economy is based on private commercial extraction of resource and labor for maximum profit. Corporate monopolies work with the national and local governments to secure profits while resolving any debts through the national treasury (Koeppel 2008, White 1984). A nation that is governed by a dictatorship which partners with companies practicing exploitive large-scale plantation agriculture, especially banana cultivation, can be considered a banana republic.

Today, the majority of people who practice horticulture in the Yorkín Valley sell Gran Michel bananas. In Costa Rica, banana production is centered in the cantons of Sarapiquí, Pococí Siquirres, Guácimo, Matina, Limón, and Talamanca on the Caribbean coast. An estimated 43,000 people work in the country’s banana industry (Barquero 2017). In 2016, the total export volume reached 120 million boxes, which weigh 18.14 kg each, totaling $986 million dollars (Barquero 2017). Much of the actual production work is done by small producers who then sell to the large corporations. There were an estimated 1,946 small growers in 2009 working over 4,358 hectares of land, with 81.7% being located in Talamanca (Aguilar 2010).

 According to Concho Rodriguez, who lives in the Skuy drainage of the Yorkín Valley, nine types of banana and seven varieties of plantain exist in the region. Different people have different names for some of them depending on where they grew up, and what cultural group they belong to; Bribri, Naso, Ngöbe, or Blanco. The varieties of banana include Gran Michel, Primativo, Chopo Verde and Murado, Cuadrado, la Katana, Manzano, Banano Vinagre, and Enano (small). Types of plantain include Filipino, Blanco, Rojo, Fia 21 and 23, Patacone, and Enano. The Bribri words for green bananas or plantains is Chimu and when they are ripe they are called Chimuri. I was the only person in the entire valley who lusted after ripe Gran Michels or Primativos, the sweet bananas. I have concluded that I see (saw, my beliefs have changed) bananas as a treat, snack, or dessert, while my neighbors see them as a major food group. This also holds true in other rainforest communities I’ve lived in.

The scientific name for the plant, Musa paradisiaca, means “the fruit of paradise.” Banana and plantain species are most diverse in Southeast Asia, suggesting their geographical origin (Englberger 2003). Denham et al. (2003) found evidence at Kuk Swamp in the Western Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea that suggests banana cultivation began there before 7,000 years ago, and possibly as far back as 10,000 years. Musa paradisiaca is the largest plant in the world without a woody trunk. As it grows, the stem uncoils and new leaves emerge. The fruit (technically berries) appear at the end of the cycle, bending the plant’s stem toward the ground. This bunch of fruit is called a “stem” and can weigh 100 pounds. Making up the stem are “bunches” which are comprised of “hands” which are made up of individual bananas, or “fingers.” A single plant can bear fruit as many as three times a year for twenty years or more. These plants grow from rhizomes, not seeds, which means they are clones of the mother plant. This provides a uniform crop but increases risk from disease.

Banana rhizomes were spread by Muslim traders, who obtained them from Southeast Asia. The Islamic poet Mas‘udi wrote of his favorite dish made from almonds, honey, nut oil, and banana, called kataif, in 956. Friar Tomás Berlanga carried two banana rhizomes to the New World in 1516. When the banana trade began in the Americas, all the fruit was descended from these two mother plants (Cohen 2012). The Gros Michel (Gran Michel in Talamanca), or Big Mike, was a hybrid created in Jamaica in 1836 by Jean François Pouyat. In the 1950’s Panama disease, caused by the fungus Fusarium oxysporum, ravished the Gran Michel crops. It was replaced by Dwarf Cavendish and Grand Nain (Chiquita Banana) as the main cultivars in many areas (Cohen 2012). However, Gran Michel is still grown extensively in Talamanca.

Lorenzo Dow Baker, captain of the schooner Telegraph, brought the first bananas to the United States in 1870. He bought bananas in Jamaica and sold them in Boston at a 1,000 percent profit. Bananas were less expensive than locally-grown fruit. In 1913, a dozen bananas went for 25 cents (equivalent to $6.19 in 2017). The same price only paid for two apples (Koeppel 2008). Commercial banana production made its way to Costa Rica in the 1880’s via Minor Keith. Born in Brooklyn, Keith owned land in six Central American republics, and the hundred-peso note of Costa Rica displayed his likeness. His brother Henry had been hired by the Costa Rican government to build a railroad from coast to coast. Minor Keith planted rhizomes along the tracks, thinking to provide a food source for the laborers. In 1894, Keith signed a contract with the Boston Fruit Company to supply bananas for export to the United States. On March 30, 1899, he and the owners of Boston Fruit combined their holdings to create the United Fruit Company. By growing their product in Latin America and selling it in the United States, they were able to buy cheap land, hire cheap labor, and avoid taxes and regulatory laws. In a 1909 Supreme Court decision, the judges concluded that the court did not have the authority to judge actions under review in other countries. According to Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., who wrote the majority opinion, “A conspiracy in this country to do acts in another jurisdiction does not draw to itself those acts and make them unlawful, if they are permitted by the local law” (Cohen 2012:50). This granted United Fruit extensive freedoms in its operations.  

After a period of armed conflict between the banana company owned by Sam Zemurray, named Cuyamel, and the United Fruit Company in Honduras, Zemurray became the majority shareholder of United Fruit. The deal was approved by stockholders in December 1929. The New York Times opened on November 26, 1929, with the headline “Cuyamel Accepts United Fruit Offer: Holders Vote for Merger of Companies at Share-for-Share Exchange of Stock” (Cohen 2012:119). By the 1930’s Zemurray was personally in control of banana production throughout Central America. Interestingly, my two favorite sources for Talamancan ethnography and archaeology were written by Doris Stone, Sam Zemurray’s daughter. She studied the culture of the indigenous inhabitants in the very same valleys where her father introduced commercial banana production.

The Great Banana Strike began on August 9, 1934, involving more than 30 separate unions. The Atlantic Workers Congress was demanding a minimum wage that would not be paid in company coupons, six-hour shifts, recognition of injury law, and improved working conditions. The United Fruit Company and the Central American governments had collaborated to suppress strikes and uprisings on the plantations, and in response they divided workers in different positions and regions along ethnic lines, even forcibly deporting workers to other areas. Although the parties came to an agreement that ended the strike three weeks later, United Fruit began a public relations campaign to label the strikers as communist insurgents. In 1935, there was a flood which destroyed many warehouses, bridges, and railway tracks owned by the United Fruit Company. Bribri history states that the flood was the result of a one-month period of fasting conducted by the Bribri. The fast was ordered by the spiritual elites, the UsekLa (Palmer, Sanchez, Mayorga 1991). The combination of the strike and the flooding eventually resulted in United Fruit signing a collective agreement with its workers in 1938 (Bolaños 1978).

For the small-scale producers in the Yorkín Valley, there is an opportunity to sell to one of the three buyers who come to the Shuabb port on the Yorkín River every two weeks. A person can sell up to three times every fifteen days, or six times a month. The price they receive fluctuates from 750-780 colones per kilo. For most of 2016-2017, they were getting 780 colones per kilo. A large rice sack holds approximately 30 kilos. This represents the minimum a seller can arrive with. Harvesting involves cutting the stalk with a machete a few feet from the ground, allowing the water contained within to feed the next sprout. After cutting the bunch of fruits (called a stem), they can be carried on the shoulder to either the river port or the truck drop-off points along the dirt road to the river crossing at Bambu. This sack of green Gran Michels earns the seller around 41.25 U.S. dollars. This represents $247.50 a month. Most of the sellers I knew in the Yorkín Valley said they liked selling banana because it is secure money, and they felt they were getting a good price. I chose not to tell them what organic bananas sell for back in la USA.

Bananas and plantains are an important food source in the Yorkín Valley. Very often, they are eaten every meal of a day. They can be prepared in innumerable ways. Perhaps the most ubiquitous drink is called michelada (chapo in Peru), which is ripe plantain cooked and blended with water. To this basic mixture ginger, cinnamon, chocolate, or milk can be added. It can be consumed hot or cold. Talking with a local friend after making a six-hour roundtrip to Bribri to buy some milk, I learned that for her, chapo was her milk while growing up. Like an American child sitting down to a PBJ and milk, I imagined her sitting down to a cup of michelada and patacones. One of my favorite breakfasts is fried ripe banana or plantain and fried eggs. Patacones, made with green plantains, are first fried in oil, then smashed to a disk shape, then fried again. I enjoyed eating then with beans. The liquid from the peel of a plantain can be used to disinfect cuts. The leaves are used as food wraps in cooking and can be made into bowls. Rainforest horticulture is tree-based, with the majority being banana and plantain. It is hard for a person who is not from the tropics to conceptualize the varieties and ubiquity of bananas in the tropics.

Adriana Escobedo Aguilar 2010 Cadena Productiva de Banano Criollo (Gros Michel) de Costa Rica. Catie

Barquero S, Marvin 10.03.2017, http://www.bananalink.org.uk/costa-rica-sets-new-record-banana-exports.

Rojas Bolaños, Manuel (November 1978). “El desarrollo del movimiento obrero en Costa Rica: un intento de periodización” [The development of the workers’ movement in Costa Rica: an attempt to create periods] (PDF). Revista de Ciencias Sociales (in Spanish). San Jose: Universidad de Costa Rica. 15-16: 13–31

Cohen, Rich. 2012. The Fish That Ate the Whale: The Life and Times of America’s Banana King (p. 236). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.

Denham, T.P.; Haberle, S.G.; Lentfer, C.; Fullagar, R.; Field, J.; Therin, M.; Porch, N. & Winsborough, B. (2003). “Origins of Agriculture at Kuk Swamp in the Highlands of New Guinea”. Science. 301 (5630): 189–193

Englberger, Lois (2003). “Carotenoid-rich bananas in Micronesia” (PDF). InfoMusa. 12 (2): 2–5.

de Langhe, Edmond & de Maret, Pierre (2004). “Tracking the banana: its significance in early agriculture”. In Hather, Jon G. The Prehistory of Food: Appetites for Change. Routledge. p. 372.

Gibert, Olivier; Dufour, Dominique; Giraldo, Andrés; Sánchez, Teresa; Reynes, Max; Pain, Jean-Pierre; González, Alonso; Fernández, Alejandro & Díaz, Alberto (2009). “Differentiation between Cooking Bananas and Dessert Bananas. 1. Morphological and Compositional Characterization of Cultivated Colombian Musaceae (Musa sp.) in Relation to Consumer Preferences”. Journal of Agricultural and Food Chemistry. 57 (17): 7857–7869.

Dan Koeppel (2008). Banana. The Fate of the Fruit that Changed the World. London: Hudson Street Press. p. 68.

O. Henry: Collected Works (+200 Stories) (Kindle Locations 1120-1126). Titan Read. Kindle Edition.

Richard Alan White (1984). The Morass. United States Intervention in Central America. New York: Harper & Row

Guevara, Che. Letter to his aunt Beatriz describing what he had seen while traveling through Guatemala (1953); as quoted in Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life (1997) by Jon Lee Anderson ISBN 0802116000

“Oww!!! Fuucckk!!! Oww!!!” I cry out as a searing pain stabs into the back of my shoulder. It feels like molten lead being injected by a hypodermic needle.

“Grek! ¡¿Que?!” Greg! What?! says Marcio as he stops short the rhythmic shwt, shwt, shwt of his machete. Three hours of clearing a path through the Talamancan jungle of Costa Rica and he is calm, not even sweating. At twenty-two years old, his endurance and strength are belied by his short, sparse stature. He wears jeans tucked into rubber boots and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. His long black hair is tied in a bun atop his head. Other than his machete, his only accoutrement is a length of sugarcane he holds in his off-hand. Meanwhile, I am dripping sweat, tired, and feeling like my twenty years as a backcountry guide in the Rocky Mountains did little or nothing to prepare me for jungle travel. I feel like a child in the woods, completely dependent on Marcio.

“Picas! ¡Malas!” I say. Bad bites!

“¡¿De qué?!” From what?!

“No sé, hormigas, negros.” I don’t know, ants, black ones.

“Venga!” Come here! I walk toward Marcio, and remove my compass, GPS, and machete from their individual cords around my neck and shoulders. Before I reach Marcio, Namu, my year-old dog I had raised here from a pup, begins to cry out as soon as he returns from his explorations further back on our just-cut trail to stand at my side. He begins to roll around on the jungle floor to remove the ants.

“Namu! ¡Venga aqui!” I call him to come and begin furiously brushing away the debris attached to Namu’s short, tiger-striped coat. I pull off my shirt and show Marcio where I had gotten stung.

“Grek. Tiene tres, balas.” Greg. You have three, balas.

“What the fuck is bala!? ¿Qué es?” What is it?

“Hormiga muy bravo. ¿Usted OK?” A real mean ant. Are you OK?

“Emma.” Yes in Bribri. I lie. I am startled by the extreme pain and concerned about having to continue.

“Quiere descansar?” Do you want to rest?

“No, mishka.”  Let’s go- in Bribri. 

“Ekeke, mishka.” Good then, let’s go- in Bribri.

Balas, I later learn, means “bullets” in Costa Rican Spanish, and it turns out I have suffered three bites from the bullet ant, Paraponera clavata. Found in humid lowland rainforests from Nicaragua to Paraguay, its sting, according to the “Schmidt Sting Pain Index,” occupies the highest rating, a “4+”. Dr. Justin Schmidt, director of the Southwest Biological Institute, creator of the index, described a sting he once received from a bullet ant for an interview in Esquire:

“It really felt like a bullet. It was instantaneous, almost even before it stung me. It was absolutely riveting. There were huge waves and crescendos of burning pain- a tsunami of pain coming out of my finger. The tsunami would crash as they do on the beach, then recede a little bit, then crash again. It wasn’t just two or three of these waves. It continued for around 12 hours. Crash. Recede. Crash. It was absolutely excruciating. There wasn’t much I could do except be aware of it and groan.”

Marcio continues hacking away at the jungle with his machete in one hand and the length of sugarcane in the other. I follow behind glancing back and forth between my GPS, which, due to forest and cloud cover, loses its signal throughout the day, and my compass, which always works, regardless of the elements. We are headed to a waypoint I had marked yesterday on a trail assumed to be his family’s property border and la frontera, the Costa Rican/Panamanian border. We are cutting a path from one corner of the property to another to estimate the size of their land, and define its boundaries.

The Skuy basin is sparsely populated, there are only four other families living in the valley. The Talamancan Mountains, in which the Skuy Basin is situated, are the highest non-volcanic mountain range in Central America. Glacial cirques, lakes and valleys are common. It is a land-bridge where fauna and flora of North and South America migrate and roam freely. The forest types include tropical lowland rainforest, montane forest, cloud forest, and oak forest. Over 10,000 flowering plants, 215 species of mammals, 600 species of birds, 250 species of reptiles and amphibians, and 115 species of freshwater fish live here.  There are also many endangered species, including all the cat species of Central America, the Ornate Spider Monkey and the Central American Tapir.

Marcio’s family’s land is situated within the Talamanca Indigenous Reserve. This reserve was set aside as a result of the Costa Rican Indigenous Law 6172 of 1977. The law gives legal recognition that the indigenous inhabitants are the owners of the territories. The indigenous territory is represented by the Indigenous Holistic Development Association and traditional authorities such as the local juntas and the aditibri. Non-indigenous people cannot rent, buy, borrow or acquire land within the reserve. Marcio’s stepfather, Concho, who is Panamanian, has permission to live here because he is married to Valencia, a Bribri woman. Although he cannot buy land, his children can, because they inherit their mother’s clan rights, the Bribri being traditionally matrilineal. The children of a Bribri woman and a non-Bribri man inherit the rights of the mother and her clan. However, the offspring of a Bribri man who marries a non-Bribri woman lose both their communal rights and their clan.

This morning, we had started from a point about twenty meters above the Skuy River, where a feeder stream spills from a small waterfall. From there, we began cutting our path up to the property corner. Every so often, Marcio pauses in his methodic hacking and asks if I am OK. “Esta bien?”

I am far from “bien.” The pain intensely throbs throughout my whole body. But I answer “tranquilo.”

Of the many things I have learned during my two years of fieldwork in the Bribri communities of the Yorkin Valley, perhaps the one I value most and try to emulate in my own life, is the locals’ way of minimizing personal achievement or suffering. This is a common feature of hunter/gatherer groups and others that can be considered to have a “collectivist” social structure. This cultural ideal helps to ensure that undue attention is not placed on any individual, and that everything remains status quo within the group. The locals here often express this philosophy with a single word, “tranquilo,” no big deal.  Whenever someone is asked about a debilitating sickness or an accomplishment that would make most americans blush with pride, the locals simply reply, “tranquilo.”

 So, now, having been stung by the “balas” and in wretched pain that keeps coming in waves, leaving me dizzy and naseous, there is nothing to say but “tranquilo.” Marcio briefly pauses from his shwt, shwt, shwt cutting of our path, and answers back in his soft voice, “Vikingo muy valiente.”

 “Vikingo,” is a moniker I received as the result of trying to explain my cultural heritage to the locals. I take a little pride in it, but right now it isn’t bravery or valor I am showing, it is simple resignation to the fact that it is just as far to turn back as it is to press on, and there is literally no medical care within a day’s journey. “Tranquilo,” I remind myself.

Marcio and I plod along, climbing up and down over fallen trees, slogging through mud and feeder streams. Oftentimes I can’t see two feet in front of my face because of the thick foliage. The insects; biting flies, gnats, mosquitos- are relentless. The rainforest creates a constant din. I understand why sometimes early explorers, painstakingly cutting their way through the rainforest for long distances, went temporarily insane. On the relatively clear 3.5-kilometer trail from the community of Yorkín to Marcio’s family’s house, we can cruise the path in an hour. Today, bushwhacking through the forest debris and mud, it takes us five hours to go just 1.2 kilometers. I push on, suffering from the most painful sting of any insect on earth. Three of them.

The Sateré-Mawé people of Brazil use bullet ant stings in their initiation rites. Hundreds of them are put into gloves made of leaves which an initiate is then expected to wear for five minutes. Often, the hand and arm are temporarily paralyzed, and the initiate may experience tremors throughout his body for days. The initiates may go through the ordeal several times in their lives. I feel like I am going through my own initiation rite- my entire back, right shoulder, arm, and hand hurt like hell. I keep feeling these waves of dizziness and nausea vibrate through my body. I tell myself to quit being dramatic and just relax. Ignorance concerning the seriousness of the stings is bliss. I am not being “valiente.” There is just no other option. So, instead I keep repeating my mantra “tranquilo, tranquilo.”

The jungle becomes a blur of sound and waves of green, gently pulsating along with my own labored breathing. Insects are constantly creating the buzzes, clicks, and rings which remind me of cellphones. Birds scream, shout, toot, clack, and whistle. I watch Namu (which means “tiger” in Bribri), and wonder how much pain he is in. I don’t know how many stings he received, but he is much smaller than me and I assume that means more pain for him. He is the “valiente” one. My mind wanders, reflecting on how this life in the Bribri territories of the Talamancan rainforest, which at first was so foreign, has become more natural, more normal, to me. Even though sometimes, like now, I reflect on why my Viking ancestors never tried to settle in the tropics. Perhaps it was fear of bullet ants. Tranquilo, I think, as the pain keeps pulsing through my body.

The Bribri are an indigenous people in the Chibchan language group, which encompasses cultures from Honduras to Columbia. DNA analyses suggest they were some of the first colonizers in the new world, migrating from Siberia. Both DNA and archaeological data suggest the Bribri’s ancestors first arrived in Talamanca over 10,000 years ago. The area contains archaeological sites with monumental architecture and other evidences of an elite class. These sites were centered around the production of maize, and date as far back as 5,000 years ago.

Bribri tradition holds that their creator god, Sibö, grew the people from maize kernels, and instructed them to care for the earth. Sibö’s wife, Tsiru, is embodied in the cacao tree (Theobroma cacao) from which chocolate is made and which is held sacred to the Bribri. European presence began with Christopher Columbus’ arrival on the coast at present day Limón in 1502, during his third voyage. The admiral dubbed it “Costa Rica” – the rich coast. Soon after, like most indigenous inhabitants of the western hemisphere, the Bribri and their neighbors (Naso and Ngöbe, among others) saw their populations decimated by European diseases, war with the invading Conquistadors, and the genocidal policies of the colonizers.

Marcio’s family mostly lives a subsistence lifestyle. He and Concho hunt frequently with a 22-caliber rifle and they have a lot of land under production- rice, wheat, beans, corn, as well as Manihot esculenta, yuca in Spanish, cassava/tapioca to Caribs, mandioca in Brazil, and M. utilissima to botanists. Yuca enabled humans to evolve from foraging to farming throughout the western hemisphere. The tubers are rich in carbohydrates and calories, though deficient in protein. Along with nampi, the yuca in Talamanca is ‘sweet’ (aypi in the Amazon) which does not require leaching the prussic acid found in other varieties. Manihot esculenta has been exported to other equatorial environments and is the world’s most important tropical crop after rice.

There is also banana and plantain, but much less than further down the valley in Yorkín and Shuabb. They have a tilapia pond which they stock from the river, as well as a horse, about 30 chickens, three dogs, ducks, and about eight cows up the valley. Concho doesn’t like to sell his agricultural products, and produces mostly for consumption. He prefers to sell a cow or perform some labor for spending money.

The first night of my visit, Concho went out to hunt tepezcuintle (Coniculus paca, a large rodent), but it was raining, and he did not have any luck. That night I ate dried saíno (Pecari tajacu, Collared peccary) and yuca. Later, Concho soaked corn from his harvest and ground it in a Corona mill. In the morning he mixed it with a little salt and flour and water and created little torpedoes which he then boiled- these are called bollo. We ate them with dried saíno and coffee.

It was once common for Bribri families to have eight or more children. The large families enabled the Bribri to bounce back from a population bottleneck during the late 1800s when there were less than 1,500 people in the indigenous areas of Talamanca. The latest census (2011) puts the population in the Talamancan indigenous territory at 8,000. Currently, young people are having fewer children; many say they want only two or three. The lifestyle of the people who live in the territories is rapidly changing in other ways too. Cellphones and the internet are ubiquitous in all but a handful of communities.

Marcio is unmarried and spends his time working on the land. Marcio’s brother, Santiago, is married and lives with his wife and young son in a house which he built not far from the family’s main house. However, it is still common among the Bribri for a young man to live for a period of time in the house of the girl’s parents. It is also traditional that the houses get passed down through the women, however, as for Santiago, this is not always the case. The ownership of fincas, the small horticultural plots, seems to be passed down from both the men and the women. It is common that a marriage only lasts as long as it serves both parties. Either man or woman may leave at any time. In these ways, traditions persist and morph and fade away in the hilly jungle of Talamanca.

Concho laments the fact that fewer and fewer young people want to learn the traditional agricultural methods. It is true that an increasing amount of young people are looking for opportunities elsewhere. There is an existential threat to many of their traditional lifeways and knowledge. As an anthropologist studying changing lifestyles here in the Yorkín valley, I am acutely aware of this “modernizing/globalizing” transition, which is happening throughout the world. I feel a sense of sadness, but it is tempered by hope that human resilience and adaptability will prevail as the people here continue to navigate rapid cultural change. As they say, “tranquilo,” no big deal.

We made it to the ridgetop without incident. Happily, we arrived about ten meters from the corner property marker on the Costa Rican/Panamanian border. The endorphins produced by our combined success help to briefly take my mind off the pain. We continued down a path to Marcio’s home along the riverside. I was still in quite a bit of pain, but my exhaustion and satisfaction of a job well done created a sensation of mental numbness. I used no medication, natural or otherwise, attempting to emulate the tranquilo cultural ideal.

Later that night, sitting on the wooden floor, eating bollos and dried saíno, Marcio recounts to the family my encounter with the bullet ants. I feel a rush of embarrassment at allowing myself to be stung as they all laugh and make exclamations, “waayy!” and “aahhah!” Trying to stay composed, I reply that usually for my work, I just sit around on “mis nalgas,” my ass, working on the computer. I say that I cherish being able to come visit them and work outside, excepting the ant stings.

  “Todavía duele?” asks Marcio. Does it still hurt?

  “Sí, un poco,” I say. A little.

“Vikingo muy valiente.”  

“Tranquilo.”

Bibliography

Bosmia, A.N., Tubbs, R.S., Griessenauer, C.J., Haddad, V. 2015d. Ritualistic Envenomation by Bullet Ants Among the Sateré-Mawé Indians in the Brazilian Amazon. Wilderness & Environmental Medicine 26(2): 271-273.

Davis, Noah. 2015. “What It’s Like to Get Stung by The World’s Most Painful Insect.” Getty/Esquire.

Gabb, W. M. 1875. “On the Indian Tribes and Languages of Costa Rica.” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 14: 483-602.

Stone, Doris. 1962. The Talamancan Tribes of Costa Rica. Cambridge: Peabody Museum Press.

The Red Desk. http://theredddesk.org/countries/laws/costa-rican-indigenous-law-law-6172-1977

UNESCO. http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/205

I just read ( and thoroughly enjoyed) a recent article written by Megan Gannon for the September 4^th edition of Sapiens. Her article got me thinking about some of what I see as troubling deficiencies in the way graduate schools control and influence researchers. I suggest that there are three main paradigms or structural problems which limit the creativity and productive results of current research in the social sciences:

#1 Research grants are given to projects which are short term, examine one hypothesis, or related hypotheses, which mainly address or support current scientific paradigms.

#2 Physics envy of the social sciences in which hard data is favored over theory crafting.

#3 Specialization of degree programs in which students and researchers are forced to focus on a very narrow range of classes and research.

Gannon’s article discusses the recent conflicts within archaeology regarding human migration to the Americas. She recounts the Clovis First model as well as the discoveries at Monte Verde, Buttermilk Creek, Meadowcroft Rockshelter, and others which contradict the Clovis First model. She also describes the conflicting (and growing) DNA evidence from past and present New World and Asian populations. She (perhaps wisely) does not include the recent reports by Steven R, Holen’s team suggesting a 130,000 year old mastodon kill and butchering site in California (Cerutti Mastodon Site, Nature April 2017). Gannon’s article was (for me) thought provoking…

Much of the current research in anthropology and archaeology suffers from a lack of “big picture” theory crafting. Pertaining to the current discussion, it is my opinion that many of the archaeologists researching human migration into the Americas are forgetting that they are researching humans. They often do not consider the role of individuals, nor irrational human behavior in their conclusions. I laugh out loud when I read “Proving the coastal theory is tricky. No wooden boats from that era have been found along the shore.” Really. Every archaeologist knows how hard it is to find STONE tools, which do not degrade the way wood does, and how very difficult (and lucky) it is to find any less durable materials. ABSENCE OF EVIDENCE DOES NOT IMPLY EVIDENCE OF ABSENCE. We have not found the boats Homo erectus used to get to Australia- did they swim? Come on.

A researcher with an education focusing on breadth, rather than depth, would have taken classes in psychology and motivation. They may imagine that there are many reasons a group may choose to migrate, at varying speeds and patterns, with any methods a modern human brain could conceive of. The modern humans living 100k to 20k years ago were not less intelligent than you. They had the same anatomical brains. In fact, they could have been more intelligent in many ways (I am thinking of Gardner’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences- Naturalist, Musical, Logical-mathematical, Existential, Interpersonal, Bodily-kinesthetic, Linguistic, Intra-personal, Spatial) than the modern human due to the everyday problem solving, memorization needs, and generalized knowledge and skills required just to survive. A researcher educated in religion and mythology, indigenous politics, history, would be better prepared to incorporate indigenous beliefs and cosmology into their theories and conclusions.

Gannon discusses the 13,000 year old footprints found on a Calvert Island beach by Duncan Mclaren’s crew (PlosOne, 2018), in 2014, “It’s impossible to know what they were thinking or doing that day, 13,000 years ago. Maybe the mother paused to help her child out of the boat. Maybe she laughed when her partner slipped on the damp clay. Perhaps she caught his fall. Maybe she sniffed the air that stank of low tide and squinted at the ice-covered land in the distance. Maybe she had been to this beach many times before or had heard stories about it from other members of her tribe. Or maybe, as she looked inland, she wondered if she was the first person to set foot on this shore.” the author writes. Maybe? I would say OF COURSE. This is exactly what a mother would do after newly arriving on an uninhabited shore. The writer exhibits exactly the type of imagination most modern researchers lack. If they could spend less time in the classroom or lab, they could learn fieldcraft- orienteering, tracking, animal behavior, edible and medicinal plants, basic wilderness survival. Then could could well imagine exactly what the immigrants were thinking.  

I am more apt to believe modern humans (and maybe even erectus?) will continue to surprise us with every new archaeological discovery. Hell, NASA sent men to the moon with less computing power than you have in your cell phone. My ancestors made it to Novia Scotia (and some believe much further south) from Scandinavia with nothing but a sundial placed in a bowl of water and their intimate knowledge of the sea. Polynesian navigators populated the Pacific by reading the stars and “feeling” the currents. The aforementioned Homo erectus populated Africa, Central and East Asia, Australia, and now there are findings which may suggest California?! What less could modern humans accomplish?

I am a romanticist. My scientific heroes are long dead- von Humboldt, Bates, Spruce, Wallace, Haeckel, among many others. These scientists were trained in a multitude of subjects and were not constrained in their research questions or theory crafting the way modern researchers are. Perhaps with a healthy portion of modern methods and data combined with generalized training and less constrictive research and peer-review/acceptance (a whole other can of worms I would like to delve into) 21^st century research can begin to explore (and discover) broad new imaginings of the human potential, both in our mist shrouded path, and our increasingly threatened future.

I find the study of Homo sapiens’ arrival in the Americas one of the most provocative areas of research today. If you are interested in the idea of “putting the human into” archaeological research of new world human dispersal, I would like to recommend the recent book by Craig Childs “Atlas of a Lost World.”

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/227860/atlas-of-a-lost-world-by-craig-childs/

These sources were mentioned in the text-

sapiens.org/archaeology/native-american-migration/

journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0193522

nature.com/articles/nature22065?dom=pscau&src=syn

About 1,700 years ago, as the sun rose over the mountains to the east, the people of Sipán gathered in the various plazas encircling the great temple. The pyramidal temple sat atop a rectangular mound. It was one of two similar structures, situated side by side, visible from the distant hills, coastline, and sea. The structures housed the royal family and their administrators, both governmental and religious. They also contained the burial tombs of the ruling family of Sipán. Today, another ruler would be laid to rest under the scorching sun in this area of modern day northern Peru.

The Lord of Sipán had died when he was around 40 years old- by today’s standards the prime of life. He stood 5’4”. He was adorned with a crescent headdress made of beaten gold which must have shown like the sun as he stood atop the temple addressing his people. He wore a face mask, also of beaten gold, and three sets of gold earrings inlaid with turquoise. He wore two necklaces of ten large peanuts, made of both gold and silver- symbolic items reflecting the sacred fruits, one of many which sprouted from the soil, sustaining this agricultural community. On his back was a pure gold warrior’s shield weighing almost 2 pounds, on his shoulders pectoral shields made of shell, bone and stone. He was adorned with feather ornaments and banners of gilded metal. His attendants had covered him with his favorite blankets, which were decorated with copper platelets. They placed his golden sceptre in his right hand and strapped his copper sandals on his feet. His tomb also contained ceremonial utensils including a rattle hammered from sheet gold and hafted with a solid copper blade, gold bells showing a deity severing human heads, three other headdresses, and hundreds of beads and sea shells. Over 450 utensils and offerings made of gold, silver, copper, textiles and feathers were buried with him.

But these were not the only items accompanying the Lord in his journey to the afterlife. Above him, the captain of his personal guard was buried in full battle regalia- his feet had been cut off to insure he stayed at his post, regardless of what terrors he may be faced with in the afterlife. The Lord’s second son was also chosen to accompany his father, but only after being assured his faithful companion and friend, a large hunting dog, would make the journey with him. Two more warriors of the Lord’s personal guard were buried on each side of their Lord, along with three female household attendants. Two of the Lord’s best llamas were included to start a new herd in the land beyond.

The people were treated with a display of music, dancing, sacrificial offerings, food, and drink throughout the day and into the night. The Lord’s oldest son would take on the responsibility of ruling the area of Sipán. For these people of what is now called the Moche Culture, life would continue as it had for as long as they could remember. They could be secure, completely unaware of how much things would change a thousand years later when a powerful, militaristic group, the Inka, would arrive and add the community to their empire.

The above is a reflection of my personal thoughts which were inspired by a visit to the Royal Tombs of Sipán Museum located in Lambayeque, Peru. The museum is incredible- one of my favorites. If you would like to learn more, check out the Wikipedia page at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_of_Sip%C3%A1n , the World Archaeology website at https://www.world-archaeology.com/features/tombs-of-the-lords-of-sipan/ , the book written by the archaeologist who was in charge of the excavations and creation of the museum, Walter Alva, at https://www.amazon.com/Royal-Tombs-Sipan-Walter-Alva/dp/0930741307 , a PDF in Spanish at https://www.fogapi.com.pe/assets/se%C3%B1or-de-sipan2.pdf , or on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/museotumbasrealesdesipanoficial/.

On February 14^th, 1990, Voyager 1 was preparing to leave our solar system. At the suggestion of Carl Sagan, NASA engineers turned the probe to take one last photograph of Earth. At 4 billion miles away, our home appeared to us as it really is- a Pale Blue Dot, floating inconspicuously in the vastness of space. Below is the excerpt from Sagan’s 1994 book “Pale Blue Dot”.

I have supplied the official video from YouTube and the original excerpt from the book in both Spanish and English.

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

Mira de nuevo ese punto. Eso esta aqui. Esa es la casa Esos somos nosotros. En él, todos los que amas, todos los que conoces, todos los que has oído hablar, todos los seres humanos que alguna vez fueron, vivieron sus vidas. El conjunto de nuestra alegría y sufrimiento, miles de religiones, ideologías y doctrinas económicas seguras, cada cazador y recolector, cada héroe y cobarde, cada creador y destructor de la civilización, cada rey y campesino, cada joven pareja enamorada, cada madre y padre, hijo esperanzado, inventor y explorador, cada maestro de moral, cada político corrupto, cada “superestrella”, cada “líder supremo”, cada santo y pecador en la historia de nuestra especie vivió allí, en una mota de polvo suspendida en un rayo de sol

La Tierra es un escenario muy pequeño en una vasta arena cósmica. Piensa en los ríos de sangre derramados por todos esos generales y emperadores para que, en gloria y triunfo, puedan convertirse en maestros momentáneos de una fracción de punto. Piense en las infinitas crueldades visitadas por los habitantes de una esquina de este píxel sobre los habitantes apenas distinguibles de otra esquina, cuán frecuentes son sus malentendidos, cuán ansiosos están por matarse, cuán fervientes son sus odios.

Nuestras posturas, nuestra importancia personal imaginada, el engaño de que tenemos una posición privilegiada en el Universo, se ven desafiados por este punto de luz pálida. Nuestro planeta es una mota solitaria en la gran oscuridad cósmica envolvente. En nuestra oscuridad, en toda esta inmensidad, no hay indicios de que venga ayuda de otro lugar para salvarnos de nosotros mismos.

La Tierra es el único mundo conocido hasta ahora que alberga vida. No hay otro lugar, al menos en el futuro cercano, al que nuestra especie pueda migrar. Visita sí. Conformarse, todavía no. Nos guste o no, por el momento la Tierra es donde hacemos nuestra posición.

Se ha dicho que la astronomía es una experiencia humilde y de desarrollo del carácter. Quizás no haya mejor demostración de la locura de los conceptos humanos que esta imagen distante de nuestro pequeño mundo. Para mí, subraya nuestra responsabilidad de tratar más amablemente el uno con el otro, y preservar y apreciar el punto azul pálido, el único hogar que hemos conocido.

Passage written by Carl Sagan for the book Pale Blue Dot published by Random House, Copyright ©1994

For this new blog post I want to try something different. I am offering you two recent Ted videos regarding food and food production. If you have read any of my blog, you know this topic is extremely important. I am offering no commentary, but am asking for yours. Just add your comment on the bottom of the page to start the discussion.

g

Please comment.

Thanks,

g

I learned of the El Inga site while visiting Otavalo and researching archaeology in the area of Quito, Ecuador. I came across a manuscript written by Sam Noble of the University of Oklahoma in 2000, titled “Archaeological Investigations at the Site of El Inga, Ecuador.” It is a re-release of the original report written by Robert E. Bell describing excavations at the El Inga site in 1961.

The site of EI Inga is located in the province of Pichincha, Ecuador, approximately 22 km east, by road, from Quito and about 8 km southeast from Tumbaco on the west side of Rio Inga. Excavations at the site were conducted between June 20^th 1961, and August 23^rd 1961. The researchers hoped that they could find evidence of features such as hearths or fireplaces, but none were discovered. However, as Dr. Jason LaBelle first told me “Absence of evidence does not imply evidence of absence.” There may indeed have been hearths at the site and the researchers simply were not lucky enough to dig in the right areas to reveal them- we do not know. They did find fragments of animal teeth, including Pleistocene mega-fauna, and many stone tools. The majority of artifacts recovered were tools made from obsidian. Projectile points resembling the Fell’s Cave type were the most common.

The stone tools found during the excavation included: one hafted knife, 145 bifacially flaked knives, and 130 flake knives. Also found were Fell’s Cave type fish-tail points, flake scrapers, blade-like scrapers, large plano-convex obsidian scrapers, simple angle burins, ovate or leaf shaped points, broad-stemmed points, and perforators. Carbon samples were recovered and analyzed which revealed an occupation beginning approximately 10,000 years ago up to the time of colonial contact.

PHOTOS- Fell’s Cave Fish-tail points, Contracting stemmed points, Broad-stemmed points, Ovate or leaf-shaped projectile points, Barbed shouldered points. 

The researchers were mainly concerned with the stone tools found on site, reflecting the archaeological paradigm in those years. They concluded:

“Thus, in so far as projectile points are concerned, the earliest type is the Fell’s Cave Fishtail which is in turn followed by the broadstemmed points and the ovate forms; finally, the stemmed types appear. This seems to be the general chronological sequence in other parts of South America, and it is repeated throughout most chronologies in North America.”

“Thus, it would appear that fluted points can be traced from the western plains of the United States southward through Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Costa Rica and Panama into South America where they first appear at EI Inga. Examples should occur in Colombia, to the north of Ecuador, but conversations with Gerardo Reichel-Dolmatoff of Bogota, Colombia, indicate that specimens are currently unknown in that region.”

As a (vaguely) trained archaeologist, I conclude that this site was used as a seasonal hunting and processing area over many, many generations. Tools were made from cores carried to the site, depending upon what was needed at the time concerning animal processing or material crafting. Tools would have also been repaired and discarded owing to the breaking which occurs in blades made of stone such as obsidian. This would account for the large array of lithics found and the (apparent) lack of hearths, which would be common in a area used for permanent or semi-permanent habitation. Owing the the geography of the site- a confluence of rivers and creeks providing fodder and water for mega-fauna and later smaller/modern game- groups would have frequented the area through the ages, knowing exactly what times of the year desired game could be found. They would have set up a temporary camp and spent days, weeks, or even months hunting and processing animals- drying meat and creating clothing, glue, cleaning supplies, cordage from sinew, bone tools, dyes, and other needed equipment. Plants for food and medicine would also be gathered at the site. When it was time to leave, the people would load up the packs and travois (crafted on site) and with the help of the many domesticated dogs that most (if not all) groups who migrated from Siberia to the Americas had,and then move on to the next area in their season migration. The people would enjoy an abundance of high-quality animal protein and fat, plant foods including dried leaves and berries, dried roots, and plant based medicines. Equipment would have been created and repaired. The younger generations would have been taught valuable lessons concerning the hunt and animal behavior, how to time the seasons, tool manufacture, plant identification and use, as well as healing techniques- including plant medicine. Stories and games would have been shared around the camp and the youth would have learned the history of their people. The area would be left to regenerate, enabling the people to return again when the stars led them here during the next phase of their seasonal movements through the landscape.

I love to go to el mercado. The markets in Latin America offer something that is lacking in the states. Everything you could want in a couple city blocks (depending on the size of the city/town/community). Products are organized, these rows- fruits, over there- vegetables, next over- root crops, further on- grains, across the way- breads, and next to that- milk/cheese/yogurt, downstairs- meats, a row with coffee/chocolate/spices. I love that nothing is packaged. I bring my own bags and jars/plastics to fill. The meat vendors buy a whole, or portion of, an animal and cut it up- you can have them cut special portions for you. People are usually happy, and enjoy talking to extranjeros. After making my purchases, I will stop at one of the counters and buy lunch. The cooks make the food fresh from things they buy in the market that day. Cheap and delicious. I have become so accustomed to this type of shopping, if I need to go into a supermarket, I invariably verge on the precipice of having a panic attack. When I get home (wherever that may be) I love putting away my purchases without seeing labels from Nestle, Kraft, ConAgra, ADM, etc. I feel content that my money goes to local venders/farmers/ranchers, and not some goddamn billionaire. (I did warn you about a small rant…)

One final small rant (it is your payment for looking at my photos). In every small community, town, or city I have been in during my travels, there is a constant which terrifies me- the only people working in agriculture in any form are old (I can say “old” because I belong to that demographic). The majority of young people show no interest in how food is grown/produced. They are not learning the traditional or modern methods of food production. They prefer to work in stores selling modern clothes or electronics, in offices, a few in education or public safety. When I walk through these communities- and here in Otavalo, the people working the crops, or the animals, are in the 45 years and above age groups. I leave you with a question- What can we say about ourselves as a species if we no longer know how to produce/procure healthy food? What is lost when all of your food comes pre-packaged or ready-to-eat? What does it say about our societies when all our food comes from mega corporations, whose only desire is to create more profits for a select few? It is not only the epidemics of obesity and (shockingly) the co-occurring anemia found throughout the world- but rather, the loss of a basic human skill and art form. Please think about what you value and teach to the young people in your spheres of reference. G

The city of Riobamba is surrounded by several volcanoes, most notable is Chimborazo which rises to 20,548 feet, making it the tallest mountain in Ecuador. Riobamaba sits on the left bank of the Chibunga River at 9,022 feet above sea level. The city of Riobamba was founded on August 15, 1534 by Diego de Almagro, whose men killed Francisco Pizarro (a long story to be told another day). It was the first Spanish city the Conquistadors founded in the lands of Ecuador.

Outside of Riobamba, in Quebrada Chalan, Punin, a human skull was discovered by G. H. H. Tate, a field assistant working on the crew of Louis R. Sullivan and Milo Hellman. The cranium was found near an array of fossils from paleolithic megafauna. “Weighing all of the evidence carefully, I think serious consideration must be given to the implied contemporaneity of this cranium with the Pleistocene species of the Punin beds” (Sullivan and Hellman 1925). This conclusion was later challenged by Hoffstetter (1952) who suggested a more recent date. However, In 1980, Don Brothwell and Richard Burleigh dated the skull to 6,900 +/- 250 cbp (cbp means radiocarbon years before present). Considering the time lag between 1925 and 1980, and the margin of error of 250 years, the cranium could easily have been from a woman who lived in the Ecuadoran highlands as long as 10,000 years ago. This skull was also a piece of evidence which supported the Austronesian Hypothesis, which suggests modern humans related to the groups which first populated Australia traveled to the Americas in watercraft. This theory was first proposed by French ethnologist Paul Rivet (1876-1958), and is not very well accepted in the traditional academic/archaeological circles. Since then, a coastal route used by peoples from Asia has become more accepted due to the more recent finds in the southernmost parts of South America, Monte Verde most notably, which dates as old as 18,500 cal BP (Dillehay et al. 2015).

Riobamba was part of the Inka empire during the rule of Huayna-Cápac, and perhaps before. It was one of the tambos, a word derived from the Quechua tanpu , which refers to a temporary accommodation. These tambos were located next to important roads and used as collection centers for administrative and military purposes by the Inka. In these areas food, wool, firewood and other basic materials could be stored in times of emergency or military need.

A prominent figure of colonial Riobamba was Pedro Vicente Maldonado Palomino y Flores, a scientist born in Ecuador and one of the main collaborators in the French Geodetic Mission. In addition to being a politician, physicist and mathematician, he was also an astronomer, surveyor and geographer. In 1721 he received a master’s degree at the Royal and Pontifical University of San Gregorio Magno de Quito, and returned to Riobamba to teach in the Jesuit school. Maldonado embarked on explorations throughout Ecuador during the years 1722-1724 and created one of the earliest, most complete maps of the region in 1725. Both Parque Maldonado and the Colégio Maldonado are prominent spots in Riobamba.

Antonio José de Sucre y Alcalá was/is the main hero of the Republic of Ecuador. As a diplomat and statesman, he served as President of Bolivia, Governor of Peru, General in Chief of the Army of Gran Colombia, Commander of the Army of the South and Grand Marshal of Ayacucho. In 1817 he was appointed governor of Antigua Guayana and general commander of Lower Orinoco under Simón Bolívar (Simon Jose Antonio de la Santisima Trinidad Bolivar Palacios Ponte y Blanco, also known as “The Liberator”, Founder and President of Gran Columbia). Sucre was the main commander during the liberation campaign of Ecuador, which culminated in the Battle of Pichincha on May 24, 1822.

Daniel Florencio O’Leary, who was a military officer from Britain and who served as one of Bolívar’s main generals in the war, wrote-

“Complying with instructions received from the Liberator, Sucre marched on Quito at the beginning of April. After crossing the cordillera of El Azuay, his forces occupied Riobamba after a brilliant cavalry charge at the foot of stupendous Mount Chimborazo. After forcing the enemy to abandon the formidable position of Jalupana, Sucre appeared on the plain of Jurubamba in front of Quito on May 21. By another skillful maneuver he skirted the royalists’ right flank and climbed the steep heights of the volcano of Pichincha before dawn on the twenty-fourth, in order to take a position between Quito and Pasto. This daring movement led to another very imprudent one by the Spanish leader, who rushed forward to meet the Colombian general when he realized his intentions. The result of the battle was the complete rout of the Spaniards and the subsequent occupation of the second city of the old empire of the Incas.

The Liberator (Bolívar) left Pasto under the protection of the good faith of its inhabitants and continued his march toward Quito. A true lover of nature, he was delighted with his trip to Quito and the view of the snow-covered volcanoes and the picturesque valley of Ibarra and Otavalo.On June 16 the Liberator entered the city of Quito, and he was received there in the manner one would expect, in view of the enthusiasm of its inhabitants for the cause of independence. Bolívar’s captivating charm endeared him to all the inhabitants of Quito. Quite unlike the Spanish rulers, he was hospitable and welcomed all those who called on him.”

Sucre was assassinated on on June 4 1830, in the Mountains of Ber morocco – Arboleda (Nariño) near San Juan de Pasto, Columbia. The act was ordered by anti-Bolívar and anti-Sucre leader Brigadier-General and the Commanding General of Cauca, José María Obando. It was Venezuelan Colonel Apolinar Morillo, Commander Juan Gregorio Sarria (who later confessed he had been paid by Obando), and José Erazo who carried out the order. The leader of the anti-Bolívar faction in Bogota was Francisco de Paula Santander, who earlier had fought alongside Bolivar in the battles for independence and became President of Gran Columbia, only to later betray Bolivar and plot to assassinate him.

Sucre is buried in the Cathedral of Quito, Ecuador, as he had earlier said, “I want my bones to be forever in Quito.” Upon hearing the news of Sucre’s death, Bolívar said, “Se ha derramado, Dios excelso, la sangre del inocente Abel…” (The blood of the innocent Abel has been spilled, oh, Most High God…).

Both Parque Sucre and the Clinical and Histopathological Laboratory Sucre can be found in Riobamba.

After my visits to these historical spots (including the Museo de la Ciudad) I visited the several sprawling markets throughout downtown Riobamba. I finished the day with a plate of Hornados, a meal containing roast whole pig, choclo (corn), and a variety of orange potato.

Brothwell, Don and Richard Burleigh. (1980) Human Cranium from Punin, Ecuador, With Particular Reference To Morphology and Dating. Journal of Archaeological Science. 7 1: 97-99.

Dillehay, Tom D.; Ocampo, Carlos (2015). “New Archaeological Evidence for an Early Human Presence at Monte Verde, Chile”. PLOS ONE. 10 (11).

O’Leary, Daniel Florencio. (1801). Bolívar and the War of Independence: Memorias del General Daniel Florencio O’Leary, Narración . University of Texas Press.

Sullivan, Louis R., and Hellman, Milo, (1925). The Punin Calvarium.Anthropological Papers Of The American Museum Of Natural History Vol. XXIII, Part VII.