The Great Escape (prologue)

by Gregorio Pestoni (Switzerland)

A leap into the unknown Ecuador

Baños de Agua Santa. A spectacular little town in the ecuadorian mountains, surrounded by countless peaks and waterfalls. The days were passing normally, until president Moreno passed the infamous law 883. From one day to the other, oil price more than doubled. As a consequence, the indigenous communities got together and started a monumental operation: they wanted to paralyze the whole country. And they succeeded. They blocked all the main roads with rocks, trees and dirt, but they didn't stop there. They set up patrolling squads, they got together in the streets making fires, burning tyres, and chanting resistance songs. They positioned sentinels in strategic points to control the movements of the police and the army. I was stuck. No buses, no informations. The only thing we knew was that the roads were blocked and Quito and Guayaquil were having huge problems, with people taking advantage of the situation and sacking farmacies, supermarkets and ATMs. Cars were burned and people beaten. The police was unable to control the situation. I waited more than a week. The place was starting to feel like a prison and the protests didn't look like they were going to end any time soon. Local people started organizing ways out of the village, using a small airport some twenty kilometres away. But the price they were asking for was ridiculous. Among other things, they pointed to the danger of the situation and that's why, in their opinion, the price was justified. I didn't believe them. I had heard stories about people safely walking out of the country, so I started planning my escape from town. I found other people interested in doing so, and one morning we left the village while the sun was still hidden behind the crests. There were eight of us, from all over the world. Four boys and four girls. The day before we had asked a person if he could take us to the first road block, and he agreed. It was a beautiful morning ride in the back of a truck, with the fresh mountain air on our skin and the stunning valleys and mountains around us. We were going towards the Amazon. We reached the first road block after forty minutes. It consisted in many fallen trees, but we had stopped some hundread meters before because of many camions stuck in the way. A few people were around and little houses decorated the sides of the road. We walked to the block and through it. People greeted us respectfully and advised us not to pay more than one dollar each for the next taxi. Far from the aggressive atmosphere the TV was painting. To our surprise, a car was in effect waiting for people on the other side of the barricade. This vehicle brought us to El Puyo with no further stops. We had reached the Amazon. Coming down from the mountains we had found a new humid climate. Armed with our big backpacks on the back and the small ones on the front, we walked through the little city. All roads were full of stones, trees and literal barricades of dirt. Indigenous people were surveilling the barriers with wooden cerimonial spears. We were the only foreigners, but they didn't pay much attention to us. Once on the other side of the city, it was my time. I was splitting from the group. They were proceeding to the north to reach Quito from a quiter road and then either go towards Colombia or fly away. I was going to the Amazon forest. I had contacts with a couple indigenous communities, and I was determined to reach them. After declining a last attempt to convince me to go with them, I said goodbye to my friends and we wished each other good luck. I watched them cross a bridge and disappear in the distance. I was now on my own. I took a moment to flavour that feeling. A special mix between excitement, fear, tension and strength. A real breath of life. In a matter of minutes I was on the back of a motorcycle, zigzagging through little streets and towards the next road block. The journey had just began.