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David Sewell writes

...about his experiences while volunteering in Ecuador.

7 July 2005
I'm currently supposed to be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean right now en route to Quito, but airline incompetence sees me grounded for another day. The fools!

Starting to get excited again though now. I guess it's good to get the one compulsory catastrophe over with before I leave and, further mishaps notwithstanding, I will still be arriving at the Congal reserve on Saturday, which is the important thing.

It's funny - this time last Saturday I was the furthest North I'd ever been, at the anti-poverty march in Edinburgh, and soon I'll be further South than I've ever been (touches wood emphatically).

Anyway, hope to write again soon with actually adventures rather than Vogon attacks and lines on a map.

Landing - 8 July 2005
Am writing now from Quito dazed, confused and disoriented, but relieved to finally be here. Have had a loooong flight and then a lot of things to do today (about to go back out and finish actually), but I can tell you that The Andes, seen from above in the early morning mist, are the most spectacular sight I ever remember seeing. Too bad my camera battery was flat at the time.

Was quite scared on the plane but made an Ecuadorian friend and chatted away in Spanish with him, which reassured me enormously. Quito is as colourful and as dusty as I'd imagined but far less chaotic with great public transport, and the people have been being very friendly with this particular Gringo. Not drinking tapwater is annoying though; so thirsty.

Up at 5.30 tomorrow to get the bus to Muisne. I'm meeting up (touch wood) with three other volunteers at the bus station.

The Reserve - 11 July 2005
After 9 hours in a bus yesterday, I finally arrived at the reserve, although no work until tomorrow. I've so far been getting to know my new neighbours, who include fellow volunteers and staff but also free range chickens dogs and horses, and the area. The whole complex is very small and basically resembles a family ranch.

The beach is lovely but not how you'd expect: dark grey sand looking like a beach on the moon or mars. Lots of strange little beasties, flat disks of tough flesh crawling along on tiny eyelashes, who leave behind a beautiful internal shell/skeleton with exquisite patterns when they die.

The food is quite good - mainly rice and plaintain based - but I'm having to eat shrimp. Muisne, the nearest town, is across a small island, very poor, with unfinished-looking wooden houses most of which also serve as bar/shop/workshop/stable but very colourful. The locals are nice enough, but so far I've only met them in my capacity as a tourist. I'll hopefully get to know them better during the week working.

Must go - we have to get the boat and then a pickup truck/taxi back in time for my tea.

Me and My Machete - 20 July 2005
I've been here a week now, getting to know the place and what I'm doing. Almost all tasks involve a machete in some way (things grow very quickly in the jungle), although yesterday was more about boats.

Have now seen so may of the strange things from nature programs that they now seem commonplace - leaf-cutter ants, rocket-ship trees, strangler vines, giant crabs, all that sort of thing.

One thing I love is the way the sea is warm even though the sky is cloudy. This weekend we went to a town called Mompiche where the sand was black, and spent nearly all day playing in the waves. One thing I don't love is the food, which is fairly bland with much seafood.

Transport here is chaotic but cool, although on Sunday I found myself, as the tallest person on the bus, having to stick my head out of the skylight to avoid snapping my neck on the low ceiling. Mainly getting around on crowded pickup trucks.

Communication is not easy from here, so I dunno when I'll be able to write again, or if my email will eventually open. See you all when I see you, hope you're all having as much fun as me.

Blood, Sweat and Paint - 22 July 2005
This week we harvested from the tidal ponds. Since I've been eating seafood since my arrival I considered myself morally obliged to join in, but I did not enjoy the fish killing, or the mud that smelt more like shit than shit itself. More fun was the fence building and fruit harvest. Building things gives you such a sense of satisfaction, and climbing trees is always fun.

Yesterday another pond was up for harvesting, but I ducked out of it to paint murals at the village school. The buildings were basic, ugly and dirty, with no decoration save an over-elaborate display of the national flag, anthem and crest. I guess they need to drum some patriotism in the kids at an early age, to compensate from the frequent teachers' strikes (they never get paid).

For all that, the kids are just like kids anywhere, running, singing and dancing. They were fascinated by us gringos, fighting for our attention with songs and cartwheels, and despite the lack of paintbrushes (painting with a stick is hard - I ended up using my hands which are now brightly stained) we did some fantastic murals. Pictures were take, which I hope to recover at some point.

Am writing this now to free up time this weekend for riding the semi-tame horses (they wander round freely most of the time, but accept having a saddle and rider attached to them every once in a while) and go whale-watching. Am now in great danger of being very late for lunch, so away I go...

Mad Fire Cows - 30 July 2005
A serious break from the routine this week, as an unusually low tide made Tuesday national mangrove day. On Monday morning we joined with an alliance of Ecuadorian conservation organisations (led by Fundecol, who may well have a website with photos somewhere) and most of the populace of the local town to go on a ¨massive reforestation raid¨ on an illegal and supposedly abandoned shrimp farm.

The women and children waded through the mud planting the spearlike mangrove seeds while the men demolished large dykes with spades and picks. It was fun and all, great atmosphere, but very badly organised. Our boats were beached by receding tides on the way to the second site, and we had to wade and swim there with boxes of seeds.

When we got back to town they gave us a delicious lunch, and on Wednesday night a huge dance party was organised to celebrate the success and publicise the cause. Much wacky fun was had on this night, but none merits mention more than the Vacas Locas (mad cows), small wooden cows full of fireworks. A local man would lift one above his head, set it on fire, and run into the crowd while it sprays sparks, rockets and Catherine wheels. Without a doubt, one of the highlights of my life.

Other things are happening, but net time is short.

Among Mingas - 6-Aug-2005
I left the Congal reserve last night and I'm now in Latacunga, for a short adventure before I get to Tsuraku.

On the way back from work yesterday we found a horse stuck in the bog, and had to rescue him. Weak from hunger, thirst and pins and needles, surrounded by suction bog, it was not easy. We later had a small fire and a large cake to mark my departure and it was a good afternoon.

The morning I was less impressed by; we were sent out to help a local farm owner, but this turned out to involve chopping down a hillside full of trees to make a cacao plantation. I know this guy has to make a living, but it went against all we've been told for the past month about responsible resource management, and five of us walked out to tell the reserve director so.

What feels so much more worthwhile, and what I really wish we'd done more of, is the work with the community. It's the local people who have an interest and a responsibility to the area, and it seems better to work with them, bring the volunteers' enthusiasm and the supervisors' expertise to where it's most needed.

On Wednesday, for example, we went on a Minga, fixing the road. A Minga is a day of unpaid community work that everyone is supposed to help with. Participation was low, but much higher than anticipated, and although the work was very hard (involving digging underwater ditches for huge concrete tubes - I ended up more mud than man) it was a really good feeling, working with the people.

On The Road - 10 August 2005
I'm now halfway through my trip and as far south as I'm going to get, in the pretty colonial town of Cuenca. Tomorrow I plan to get an insanely early bus to Alausi, where I'll ride the Nariz Del Diablo, a famous gorge with a train that zigzags up and down it. It's all that's left of a track that once crossed the country, but it comes highly recommended by other travellers. From there it will be a mad dash on the bus to get to the reserve on time.

The first place I went this weekend was Quilatoa, a volcanic lake in the middle of the Sierra. It's truly an amazing sight, an image that will stay with me for a long time. I spent the night down by the lakeside in little cabins with a local family. There were no other guests that night, so I got to know them quite well, playing games and having the most insane fire I've ever had. Brilliant.

Yesterday I visited Ingapirca, the site of the most extensive precolombian ruins in the country. It's far from spectacular, but it's been driving me mad with speculation - all Inca sun temples are round in cross section, but this one is (near enough) elliptical. Why? The best answer I got was 'probably something to do with the moon', but none of the guides at the site had a clue.

The only one who was that interested in my questions enthused about the better-preserved and studied remains in Cuenca's museums, and while there are some ugly impressive collections of artifacts, knowledge of the Inca science is no easier come by down here. It's a pretty enough town though, with loads of ornate churches and parks with tastefully-hidden speakers playing jazz.

It will be good to get to the reserve - I'm getting a bit sick of spending all this time on buses. The view through the window is quite rewarding though, and in many ways the Andes of the Southern Sierra are a lot like the hills of the Peak District, only much, much bigger. I just wish I had more time to explore them properly.

Heart of Darkness - 19 August 2005
I'm on my way for the weekend to the spa town of Baños to recover from an intense 10 days of jungle madness. It's like the coastal rainforest, except enormous, stretching away forever, wetter when it rains, hotter when it doesn't, populated with even bigger enormous spiders, even smaller tiny frogs and every other tree has a name like Dragon's Blood or Cat's Claw and a well known medicinal use.

Maybe I sound a little overwhelmed, but I really hit the ground running here. On my first day we embarked on a three day excursion into the jungle (on foot - the Tsuraku reserve is on the only road in the province, and a machete is essential to get anyway else) to help install a clean water supply in a small Quichua village. It was a real privilege to take part in.

The work itself didn't last long, and most of the day we spent recovering from the journey in the central community hut, playing in the river with the kids and carving bowls and plates with the grown-ups. The food was basic, but all the woman were busy keeping our bowls of Chicha: the strangest drink I've ever had and the only drinkable liquid at the village, yucca fermented with old ladies´ spit, repulsive at first but a grower.

Back at Tsuraku for the rest of the week, most of the work has centered around Mahogany reforestation, the species being all but extinct and an important resource for the Shuar people. I've also been involved in preparing a community medicine garden and mapping the small paths around the village. Other than that, we've had some smaller excursions into the jungle, and I've broken my promise not to get involved in English teaching, covering for a girl who got sick.

There's more I want to say, but I'm eager to get lunch down me and then on to a hot bath in the land of electricity and running water.

Cabin Fever - 28 August 2005
Life in the jungle continues, getting slightly more claustrophobic as more volunteers leave. We've been doing some reforestation, finally, going out into the barer slopes of the wood to plant the trees we've been tending to for so long. Makes a change from chopping things with a machete (not that we don't all love that).

On Monday I got to meet the local shaman, Don Antonio, who we're helping to set up an educational medicine garden. Over the past half century, belief in the shamans´ witchcraft has been steadily declining and Antonio, when he's not busy curing people, is setting up a foundation to promote the tradition before it's lost. I'd almost like to come back in five years and see how he's doing (and how big my baby trees are).

It is still fantastic to get away from things for the weekend. In Baños last week we spent over five hours in the bath, which was just under a spectacular waterfall, as well as a fair bit of hiking and clubbing. This weekend we've come up to Tena for white-water rafting down the principal tributary to the Amazon. That was simply amazing, some of the most fun I've had.

See, when we go on jungle hikes, the best bits by far are the rivers and waterfalls. Well we've just spent a day splashing around in that, in and out of a small inflatable boat in a national park of solid green forested hills and plains. Got very happy and wet. Think log flume, times a million. The timing couldn't have been better either; I was just recovering from a long-overdue bout of Delhi Belly.

They Should Have Sent A Poet - 5 September 2005
And so I'm out of the jungle and back in the big city. I'm currently staying in the historical centre of Quito, teeming with the churches, palaces and generally old buildings that just make it feel like any old town in Europe. Almost feels like I'm already home.

My last week at Tsuraku saw a few trips down to the Pastaza river, where there are some fantastic bathing spots, lost in the green jungle and as tranquil as they are beautiful. A snake did swim across to attack us, but we scared it off with sticks and rocks. I also had a bit of a machete accident, on my last day when I was feeling really sick but insisted on going to work anyway. Took a chunk of skin off my left thumb saw just how much blood was coming out... About time I got a scar from something interesting though.

The highlight of this week, however, has been the scenery in the Northern Sierra. So close to the end of my adventure I didn't think Ecuador held many more surprises for me, but it's a whole other world up there. The rain forest gives way to cloud forest, twisting dark trees growing out of nearly vertical edges, covered in pale wooly moss and bright firey flowers.

Hiking up near Papallacta, I couldn't put my camera away. I'd gone there for the hot springs, but instead spent all the time walking round the desolate moors, dotted with strange alien plants and glacial lakes. The clouds we almost a part of the landscape, keeping it constantly in motion as they weave in and out of the craggy peaks. I guess neither words nor photos can convey the feeling you get from being there really.

The Middle And The End - 21 September 2005
On Monday evening I managed to get hold of Carolina, another volunteer from the Congal reserve, and she took me on a walking tour of Quito by night. This was mainly themed around views of the town from up tall hills, and was far more tiring of walking in and out of cybercafés as I'd done most of the day.

The following day, after a morning of getting lost on the buses, I ended up at the Mitad del Mundo, a small tourist complex marking the exact position of the equator as discovered by an 18th century French expedition. Not only was it tacky, it was wrong; the real equator is 250m further north at the smaller but far more fun Inti N~an museum, on the site of an indigenous settlement and with equatorial experiments (the water really does swirl down different ways either side, and on the red line itself it just kind of sloshes straight down) and a blow pipe you can test.

The Mitad del Mundo was redeemed by the Quitsa To solar museum, in which a passionate archeologist explained the astronomical prowess of the regions' pre-Inca civilisations. I was fascinated, and spent most of Wednesday making the long journey to the Cochasqui pyramids to see some of this for myself. After two hours on the bus and then three hours of uphill walking, I learned that very little is actual known about the pyramids' function due to a chronic lack of Ecuadorian archaeologists.

The guides to the pyramids gave me a lift back to Quito in the back of their truck, and I resolved to come back to Ecuador one day, with a more complete knowledge of astronomy. After years in cynical Europe, my time with the people of Ecuador has filled me with optimism for the future of mankind, but many seem cut off from their own past. It seems to me that Ecuador's development as a nation needs to be linked with a greater appreciation of its rich history.

A good place to start is the Museo Del Banco Central, Quito's foremost museum, where I spent Thursday morning. It has a fine collection of glass cases detailing the arts and crafts of many indigenous peoples, and a quite intimidating gallery of gold artifacts. Still, there's only so much fun to be had in looking at glass cases, and I didn't notice a single Ecuadorian in there who wasn't a member of staff or an interpreter for a foreign tourist.

I did bump into Emiko from Tsuraku there, and we met up in the evening for dinner in a quite fantastic Indian restaurant after an afternoon buying souvenirs for friends and family from the indigenous crafts market. I then spent the night at the apartment of Ruth, whom I met weeks ago at Quilotoa, where a few of her friends were having a bit of a party.

From then on it was a matter of boarding at Quito airport at 9am, changing at Amsterdam airport at 9am, and landing at Manchester airport at 9am. With my body wandering confusedly into back into my old routine, a good chunk of my thoughts still seem to be over in the shadow of the Andes.