Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing 1

Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing 2

Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing

Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing 4

Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing 5

Rio Peguche, Ecuador Washing 6

Outside it was already hot. Hal hiked down to the rise to find, as he expected, groups of villagers bathing and washing clothes in the sparkling water. “¡Patroncito!” sang out a group of children who spied Hal from a babbling pool.

“¡Chiquitocitos!” called Hal, and the children laughed as merrily as the waters whirling about their feet. Nearby, mothers paused the beating of their teal fachalinas and blue faldas on the rocks to wave at Hal and giggle like ñustas.

Sweat was dripping off Hal’s eyebrows and he was tempted to climb down the banks and go for a dip with them, but he thought better of it.

. Instead, he crossed the fields of choclo corn and quinoa between the curves of the river to take in other scenes: a young couple sharing a pot of rice upon a green shelf on the banks, a weaver washing giant skeins of wool that melded with and made visible the gentle currents, a dog disrupting his family’s wash with pouncing feet and playful jaws, and the exasperated shooing in Quichua and Spanish: “¡Llucshi! Llucshi! Quita!”

Redeemed in the blood of Pacha Mama, Hal thought. He felt a wave of protective love for these Intivalo villagers. He was glad his business had got around all the bankers and exporters and oilmen and spies and other imperialists, that he would grow with the Indigenous, that they could determine their own destiny.

Hal wanted to stay longer and watch, but he was thirsty, and he was too afraid of giardia to drink from the river. Hal turned up the hill to the posada and trod back in the burning sun.