If there were ever a day that will live in infamy in our memories, it’s December 24 here in Cuenca, Ecuador: the day of the Paseo del Niño parade. It is said that Cuenca is host to the largest Paseo del Niño parade in all of Latin America. I don’t know if that’s the literal truth, but for a smallish city, they do it big. If ever photos did a better job than words, it’s now. These are some of the best, but I admit it was hard to choose.

An Amazon warrior carrying a tiny Amazon warrior Jesus.

Easily the most astounding vehicle in the parade. You cannot see it, but there is a little kid riding underneath the carriage, completely invisible in the photo.

A detail from the side of that carriage. I don’t know who the little girl was supposed to be, but ‘queen for the day’ seems accurate.

Tiny legs hanging off the back.

Paseo del Niño is a tradition of celebrating the Christ Child and giving thanks for all the good things of living here on earth. The tradition was brought to Ecuador over 500 years ago by the Spanish. In Cuenca, the star of the parade is a lovely polychrome statue of the Baby Jesus, waving his chubby arm in blessing. This statue, sculpted in 1823 here in Cuenca, came into the possession of one Monsignor Miguel Cordero Crespo of Cuenca about a century later. He traveled through the Holy Land and to Rome with the statue where it was blessed by Pope John XXIII in 1961.  Since then, this traveling Jesus has been featured in the parade.

This is the statue that stars in the parade. “Heavily Guarded” does not begin to describe the sheer number of armed guards that surrounded this statue.

Pretty sure she is dressed as the Angel of the Annunciation. Her carriage was just before the Jesus statue.

The celebration is a combination of the Catholic values and traditions and indigenous cultural traditions. There are people from all parts of Ecuador dressed in their traditional clothing and some doing traditional dances, but also carrying their own Baby Jesus with them. In fact that is one of the aspects of the parade that I found to be most, well, charming, actually. People of all ages: men, women, boys, girls, carried their own statue of the infant Jesus through the parade. These statues were done in the polychrome tradition, and some were dressed in finery made of velvet, sequins, and other sparkly things. This was not only a celebration of the child, but an unabashed celebration of parenthood.

This couple dressed as Mary and Joseph. There were a lot of these.

Cars in the parade were decked out with Jesus statues and flowers on the hood, and sometimes with babies. This mom got to the infant  angel before she started crying.

Horses dressed in decked out saddle blankets filled the streets, carrying children dressed up as characters from the Christmas story or simply dressed in sequined finery. There were a few Santas, which is a recent phenomenon here. The blankets are covered with all kinds of food and drink, and often there will be a basket attached to the back of the saddle carrying a roasted pig and roasted guinea pigs. (Culturally, that one was a bit hard. I used to have those as pets.)

Mike decides to just get his water bottle filled with chicha. This batch was not particularly alcoholic, we found. Kind of fruity, with a tiny kick.

Asleep on the saddle.

This boy danced and danced with his bull puppet.

Here are your roasted guinea pigs. No, we haven’t sampled them. There are some things I’m just not eating, and this is one of them.

We went early. We stayed late. We drank Chicha (a traditional fermented drink that is given out freely to the crowd). We witnessed the blessed statue of the Christ Child, heavily protected by the armed National Police, and received the blessing of the priest riding with the statue. We went home tired but with out hearts and minds filled with images and experiences we will never forget.

Yes, it’s a guinea pig.

This little one has had enough of all this nonsense of riding on a horse. She refused to stay on one minute longer.

I’ll tell you what: the sun in Ecuador is intense. We’re here in Cuenca at about 8,500 feet altitude, and the sun feels so close you could reach out and grab it. The temperature here is almost perfect. Today, on the winter solstice, the temperature here is about 70 degrees during the day, dropping into the 60’s at night; just cool enough to leave the windows open for easy sleeping under light covers.

The Sun Temple at Ingapirca. Altitude: 10,500 feet.  Mt. Baker is 10,700 feet. Mt Baker is covered with snow. This land is covered with sun and green plants and crops.

Anyhow, hats and sunscreen and my little sun umbrella are the way to go here. Lots of people carry umbrellas to shade themselves from the sun; both men and women. And they aren’t gringos, either. In fact, I’m the only gringo I’ve seen carrying a colorful umbrella to protect my delicate skin from the intense UV of a sun that feels close enough you could pluck it from the sky like citrus fruit. Don’t gringos love their skin? What’s wrong with them, anyhow?

Speaking of sun, the sun-worshipping Incas invaded this area in the mid 1400’s from Peru and left their mark on both the culture and the landscape. The latter was in the form of enormous cities with temples and priests and housing for virgins-in-waiting (waiting on the priests, that is). In this area, it was the moon-worshiping Cañari tribe who tried to hold back the Inca invasion. Mike and I both enjoy a good ruin and decided no visit to Ecuador would be complete without a visit to Ingapirca, the largest and most complete Cañari/Incan ruin in the country. We sorely wanted to visit. But first, we had to get there.

A Cañari group grave for a tribal leader, who may have been female. The story is that the leader’s court drank poison so they could be buried with her and go into the next life with her. The Incas nicely put this big stone to mark the grave as a ‘tribute’ to the local Cañaris whose land they were trying to take by force. Nice of them, huh? The stone is highlighted by the sun at the summer solstice.

We did our research and decided we would take a bus.  Because understanding the bus system here has eluded us somewhat, we did what we always do: throw caution to the winds of fate and just show up hopeful things will work out. We took a taxi (CHEAP!) to the big bus terminal and promptly became confused by all the activity, noise, and visual over stimulation. How many bus ticket windows are there and why? And where are the busses? Good lord. Finally Mike pulled up Google Translate (highly recommended) and asked someone official looking where we could catch the bus to Ingapirca. Nodding and gesturing the man pointed us in a general direction and we went thataway.

At this point we were chirping ‘Ingapirca? Ingapirca?’ to whoever stood in our way. A man who looked as though he knew something pointed at a turnstile, beyond which we could see busses. Ah Ha!! The turnstile cost a dime and spit out a ticket. Having learned not to question the fates too closely, I paid the dime for each of us and handed Mike his ticket. He stood confused. A dime? We have a ticket for a dime? He could not have been more astounded, not to mention suspicious.Surely you do not get a ticket to Ingapirca for a dime. Whatever.  I gestured him through the gate as we handed our tickets to a small child, apparently there for that purpose.

Once faced with a line of diesel-snorting busses we needed to find the correct one. Again the chirping, ‘Ingapirca? Ou et la autobus to Ingapirca?’ we said, multi-lingually. A man keyed on the one word we had actually spoken in Spanish: Ingapirca. He began shouting, ‘Ingapirca! Ingapirca!’ at the top of his lungs, waving his arms and gesturing wildly toward the curb as he ushered us to an empty bus slot. He pointed at the empty place and shrugged his shoulder, a look of chagrin on his face.  Apparently the direct bus to Ingapirca had just left, or something like that. He thought for a minute, muttering something that could have been a spell under his breath, consulted with another man, then suddenly we were off again with the shouts of ‘Ingapirca!’ echoing like a call to war as he hurried us along to a different bus and almost shoved us aboard. He seemed certain and more than a little relieved to rid himself of us,  so we decided what the hell. We’ll go with it. We found the last double seat available, at the back of the bus, and sat down. The bus pulled away from the curb. We had barely made it.

At the Sun Temple, Segundo demonstrates that on each of the equinoxes and solstices, the sun at sunrise highlights the eyes of one of three statues that lived in those niches: a snake (representing under the earth), a puma (representing the earth), and a Condor ( representing the sky). Pretty cool. The wall is partly destroyed so only two niches can be seen.

We had no idea how long this ride would take or whether there would be another bus to return that night. Who knows? We are riding the wave at this point. We don’t control the waves of life. We only ride them.

People on the bus in Ecuador are very polite. They sit quietly. If they talk, they talk quietly. They entertain their children. It’s almost pleasant to ride a bus with people so civilized. I compare, as gringos are want to do, to our busses at home which you have to practically pay me to ride. There will certainly be at least one loud cellphone conversation going on, and someone is bound to think I want to listen to their music. I don’t. I really don’t.

In Ecuador,  at each stop new food vendors get on. This is a new experience for us and is pretty interesting. One guy was selling some kind of packaged cookie. He passed these things out to the people on the bus, then stood at the front giving his spiel about these cookies and why a person would want one. Meanwhile, people have taken the cookies for a test drive by fingering them and getting the chocolate coating nice and soft inside the cellophane wrapper.  We didn’t understand a word he was saying but he spoke movingly about these cookies. After his patter, he went through and collected either the money for the treat, or his merchandise. Then he hopped off at the next stop, and another vendor got on.

This guy was selling candied peanuts and he knew just how to sell. He made one pass and sold a few, then he came by and gave out free samples. Costco ladies have nothing on this candied peanut man.  He stood by our seat and held the package out over our hands, emptied a few peanuts in each palm, then gestured to us to eat them. Well, yeah, candied peanuts are pretty good. He sold us a couple of packages of them. At the end of that bus ride, we could have had an entire meal just from vendors making the most of a captive audience. The free market is alive and well in Ecuador.

View from the top of the Sun Temple. Note that’s the edge of a pretty high wall at the bottom of the photo. They have not “ruined” the ruin by installing a railing to keep people from falling. In Ecuador, people learn to take care of themselves. Sometimes it’s appalling how little attention to safety there is. But mostly it’s very freeing. I loved it that they did’t put modern safety structures on this place.

Soon the mystery of ten cent ticket was solved. A bus employee came down the aisle collecting tickets or money. We paid $3.50 each to ride that bus.

By the time we had been on the bus for almost two hours we began to think maybe this bus would go all the way to Ingapirca. But it didn’t. We stopped in El Tambo and everyone but us got off the bus. We had pulled up next to another bus at a stop in town and people were milling around. Mike and I were beginning to get nervous when the bus driver came back aboard and yelled, ‘Ingapirca!’ back at us, gesturing to us to follow him. We scrambled to follow and he pulled us around to this other bus and shoved us on with more  ‘Ingapirca’s for good measure. This man would make sure we got to Ingapirca.

This was a city bus and was filled with school children in their uniforms, going home for the day or maybe for lunch as it was a little past noon. They all lived between El Tambo and the town of Ingapirca. There was standing room only and we were standing at the front. This is where living on a sailboat comes in handy as we are both kind of used to hanging on for dear life as a vehicle rocks and rolls and jerks us around. Who needs a gym?

So here’s another gringo impression comparing school busses. This was a bus literally filled to bursting with kids of all ages up to about 12. They were laughing and talking and being kids, but not being disruptive or rowdy or even particularly loud.  If they had a seat, they were seated in it. If they were holding on, they held on. They were, to a child, eating something sweet; either candy or ice cream on a stick or a baked good.  And all of them used the trash receptacles provided at the end of each seat. When the bus approached their home, they shouted, ‘Gracias!’ and the driver would quickly stop, they would get off, and as soon as little feet were on the ground, the driver was off again. None of this stopping of traffic in both directions so kids can cross the street kind of thing you have in the U.S. These kids just know that busses are dangerous and they stay out of the way. Even the little ones. I’m not saying it’s a better system, although I’m not sure it’s a worse one either. I just see that people are really in charge of their own safety much more in this country than in mine and that starts at an early age.

One of the tour guides in her native Cañari dress, sitting in the Sun Temple. Note the incredible fitted stones. No mortar. Perfectly cut. The green patina is said to be caused by copper in the tools used but that is only a theory.

Anyhow we were dropped off at a little place in the road that turned out to be Ingapirca. Thank goodness the ruins are easily seen from the road. Otherwise we might still be walking along some highway in Ecuador looking for ancient cities.

The ancient city of Ingapirca spread out before us, we went to buy our ticket. Now here is a classic example of traveling in both Mexico and here. There are different ticket prices based on whether you are a gringo or not. Locals pay 2$ to get into the ruins and have a guided tour, which you are required to have because they do not let you just run amok in these ruins. Ingapirca is a national treasure and it is protected by armed guard, who, by the way, are really friendly. Tourists pay 4$ to get in, still a terrific deal. We were charged 2$, the local price. Why? I have no idea. Maybe the lady just liked the cut of our jib that day. Or maybe it’s because we at least tried to speak Spanish to her when we bought the ticket. Maybe that little smile on her face was a smile of pity, or maybe she was feeling generous. We’ll never know. But we paid the 2$ each and waited about 15 minutes for our English speaking guide to show up. He was worth the wait.

Segundo with the other guide.

Segundo, our guide, was passionate about his Cañari/Spanish roots. He is not a fan of the Incas and how they came and took over. (We did not get very far asking him why it was OK for the Spanish to come and take everything, but not the Incas and he only looked confused. Oh well, some things just don’t make sense. ) He brought this place to life for us. Segundo’s English was pretty good and he was proud of that. He had grown up in the shadow of the ruins and had felt an affinity for them since childhood. He told us he gave his first tour of the ruins at age 10. His father and mother, with their Cañari roots, still use the phases of the moon to guide them in planting and other activities, although they are all Catholic.

According to Segundo, the Cañaris were fierce warriors who resisted the take-over of their country. When the Incas could not take the land by force, they decided to try to get along with the Cañaris and try to take over using political maneuvering, marriages, and making concessions to the moon-worship customs of the Cañaris. Even now, he said, you will find no one in the area who will admit to Incan descent. You must go to the Quito area to find people who will admit this. Segundo’s disgust regarding the Inca’s was palpable.

The tour took about an hour and was excellent. It was well worth the effort to get there, and we got very lucky that we were in time to catch the 3:40 direct bus back to Cuenca, no shouting or shoving us aboard required. It picked us up right outside the gate to the ruins. If you go, ask for Segundo. You won’t be disappointed.

The native Cañari woman’s hat. The bowl represents the earth, the button in the middle is the sun. The three lines of thread are the equinox and two solstices. Segundo wasn’t sure about the tassels. He said some people say they have to do with whether a woman is married or single.

We’ve been in Ecuador a bit over a week now and almost the whole time we’ve been here I’ve been searching for Jesus. It’s not what you think. I mean, Jesus is everywhere here. You can’t walk down the street without experiencing Jesus in some way or another. There is the begging woman with her hand out, the street vendor touting the latest in fruit, the blind singer busking on the corner, the father loving on his tiny son, the mother with her baby tied firmly to her back, and all the churches and the little statues of Jesus that are more common than Starbucks and MacDonald’s back home. This is a vveerrry Catholic country and they do love their Jesus (and, my personal favorite, Mary), especially during the Christmas season. If you are, like me, a traveler who loves religious art, Ecuador is pretty heavenly what with all the Spanish colonial influence and all.

The beautiful Virgin of Guadeloupe church in Banos de Cuenca

But in spite of all these opportunities to experience the Jesus energy here, there is one particular ‘Jesus’ I really wanted to see. He’s a life sized polychrome statue at the top of Iglesia de Todos Santos, a historic church. Ecuador is famous for it’s polychrome religious statuary and they are truly magnificent works of art. (Really. Click on the link there to read a  great article about the history of this technique.)  If you are lucky you get to climb up and be with a life-sized Jesus and look out over the city. Maybe even say a blessing or two.  I was intent on seeing that Jesus. You’d think a little thing like that would be simple, but that’s never how we roll.

I think we set out to see the statue three different times. We’d wake up in the morning in our nice one bedroom apartment, the one with unlimited hot water for the big shower, and I’d announce, ‘Let’s go find that Jesus today.’. Mike would agree, and then we’d get dressed and go out, only to get distracted by one thing or another as we made our way around the historic area of Cuenca. There’s a lot to see in this city and most of it is within easy walking distance of our apartment.   So one day we went to the Parque Calderon, the big park by the big new cathedral, and wandered around there for awhile. I took in the last part of Mass in the ‘new cathedral’, which is incredibly beautiful and overwhelmingly large. We didn’t find the Jesus. We saw a lot of other Jesuses, but not the one we were looking for.

One of the blue domes of the new cathedral. This cathedral can hold about 10,000 people. And I bet it gets filled on Sundays.

One photo of the interior of the new cathedral. It just seemed rude to be taking photos there so I left the big camera in my bag and got this one quickly. Those are TV screens where the congregation can see the priest performing the Mass way up front.

Another day we walked in a different direction. We came upon another park and another church. This time there were families enjoying a teenage ‘dance off’ in the square and kids playing in the fountain. We were enchanted to see kids being allowed to play in the town square fountain, as they should be allowed to do on a warm day. We stuck around to watch and listen, then noticed the Museum of Modern Art and decided to explore that.  We loved the building more than the artworks. It was built over a hundred years ago by monks who wanted to help alcoholics get off the street.  Then it was a hospital for mentally ill women. Now it’s a museum and the building outshines the actual art: Long outdoor hallways with small rooms that open onto courtyards of lovely statuary and plants; rooms historically  used for patients, now used as artist’s studios. The feel of the place is serene; peaceful. Again we were not disappointed in our discoveries, but there was no life-sized polychrome Jesus.

Just another beautiful day in Cuenca with families out enjoying life.

A courtyard at the museum of Modern Art. Each little yellow door hides a studio.

Yesterday we wandered way down to the end of Calle Large, the street Claire and Dan live on. At the end of the street we walked through an open gate.  It was just a gate in a fence, no big deal. But we stumbled into a lovely park with an aviary filled with the birds of the region.  Enchanting! The place is a large park dedicated to flora and fauna of Ecuador, and attached to the considerable Inca/Canari ruins referred to as Pumapungo. We’ve never seen a ruin we didn’t want to explore. This ruin included the foundations of the housing dedicated to the Canari virgins who served the priests. Hmmm. Apparently those jokes about ‘sacrificial virgins’ are actually true.

Commonly called a Buzzard Eagle. He’s a stunner for sure.

These ruins of an ancient Inca/Canari city, right here in town.

This city knows how to do great parks.

Turning back for home we wandered along the street and suddenly, there was the church with the life-sized Jesus! It is part of the Todos Santos complex, which includes a working garden and convent. This small church, no more ornate than any other church in Ecuador, had a tall bell tower and by squinting just the right way into the sun, you could almost see the hands of Jesus waving at you. We went in through the open door into the cool vestibule.

A lovely young woman welcomed us in Spanish, of course, and we nodded and smiled because really, we didn’t understand a word she was saying. After asking her to speak more slowly, a phrase that gets a lot of use with us, I used Google translate to inquire about climbing up to see the Jesus. She looked crestfallen. We had noticed that there was  scaffolding around the tower and hoped against hope that didn’t mean Jesus wasn’t accepting visitors that day. She gave us a long explanation that, again, we couldn’t understand, so we just said ‘oh, ok, no problem’. But we must have looked especially disappointed, or maybe she thought I was going to cry if I couldn’t see that statue. Whatever her reasons, she suddenly just told us it would be 1$ for the tour. We slapped the money on the counter right away, before she could change her mind.

Although I’m not Catholic, I have always admired polychrome statues of Mary, the Divine Feminine, like this one on the landing in Todos Santos.

She closed the doors to the church and led us up small wooden stairs that smelled of care and polish, stopping at every landing to open windows to a view of her city. So far, this tour was pretty good what with small, creaky staircases and a fantastic statue of the Virgin on the landing, but it was about to get better. At the next landing she opened a small door and gestured us to follow her out to a ledge on the roof. That’s right. We followed this woman onto a ledge about 2 feet wide with no railing. She cautioned us to take care not to fall. That was the safety speech. It was great! The view was expansive. Photos were snapped. Then we carried on up the stairs, which got smaller at each landing.

View of the red tiles of Cuenca from the roof ledge with absolutely no safety railing of any kind.

Into the bell tower we emerged, and there was more opening of shutters and expansive views of the city and river. She gave us a tour guide version of the story of the church, in Spanish, telling when everything was built, when the bridge below was destroyed by the river, when the tower was added and repaired. She said the dates in English and the rest we figured out by her hand gestures and some limited Spanish words we understood. Since I don’t retain verbal information anyhow, the fact that we had a language barrier didn’t matter at all. I was absorbing the whole feel of the thing at that point.

I’m always struck by the sheer artistry of these church interiors.

Opening the shutters to reveal the view. This lady was very proud of her church and her city.

Just one more level to go!

The next level up was the statue. I could see Jesus’ red robes from below. And this, unfortunately, is where we stopped. As she had told us, the bell tower was under repair and the repairmen had tied a rope across the stairway, limiting access to the top of the tower. Our tour guide went as far as to try to get underneath the rope to see if it was safe, to no avail. I had to give her much kudos for trying. She clearly didn’t want us to be disappointed. She let me climb up the tiny, narrow steps to stick my camera up through the opening for a photo of Jesus’ back. I had found the Jesus. But he was not receiving visitors, after all.

Our valiant guide tried her best to get past the rope across the staircase, but in the end, she was worried about crossing that barrier.

I got this glimpse of the statue’s back.

Mike asked when the repairs would be finished and it looks possible they’ll be done before Christmas. We were too tired to explore the entire Todos Santos complex and so when the scaffolding is down, we’ll try again. I really do want to see this statue. And besides, climbing up these little wooden stairs, ducking my head to pass beneath the low ceiling, views of the city…all for 1$? Yes, please. I’ll do that again.

Detail of interior. All the churches we’ve seen have this level of artwork inside.

I spotted another statue down below. Alas, the sanctuary was locked.