Down Where North Begins

[Music] Our friends, the Ecuadorians, have put up a monument. to one of their cherished possessions, the equator. Not that they own all of it. Ecuador is, however, the only country whose name means equator. Only 2° south of the equator is Guakil, Ecuador's big seapport and her chief industrial center. In 1930, Guayakil finally shook off its old plague of yellow fever, thanks largely to help from the United States. Nothing we have done since has earned us more genuine gratitude in Latin America. Several times the city has been devastated by fires, earthquakes, civil wars, and pirates. But it still has great charm. After all, it's been here for 400 years. Off to Kito. [Music] The way this train climbs 9,300 ft is amazing. It rushes forward up a steep grade until it seems exhausted. Then it runs backward up the next grade as if to let the blood run back into its head. And on the third climb, it runs forward again. Please notice the signs painted on the rocks. This one thoughtfully asks, "Where will you spend eternity?" It's an 18-hour journey, but like most things in Ecuador, it doesn't cost much. about $3 in our money. [Music] Here's Rio Bomba, a welcome stop for fresh air, leg stretching, and something to eat and drink. The last part of the trip to Keito is along the famous avenue of volcanoes. Ecuador puts on an unsurpassed show of lofty mountains with a hundred of them more than 15,000 ft high. 22 of the peaks perform the interesting feat of standing on the equator or very near it and at the same time keeping their tops covered with snow. Chimoraso, 20,700 ft. Ecuador's highest mountain, more than a mile loftier than any in our 48 states. The Indians who live just below the snow line in this region would have a hard time toing stuff up the mountains if it weren't for the Yama, which carries around a good deal of merchandise besides its own valuable woolly coat. And then Kito, only 20 mi south of the equator. A thousand years ago, one could have stood here and looked down upon a city already old. For ancient tribes settled and built and lived here long, long long before Columbus set sail. The keto of today is relatively young as it was founded by the Spanish conquerors in 1534. Under Bolivar's inspired leadership, Spanish rule was thrown off in 1822. Ecuador for a few years was part of the Republic of Great Colombia, but has been an independent nation since 1830. The charm and color of Kito, a palpable even among South American cities almost notorious for their color and charm. For here is the perfect example of what the colonizing zeal of old Spain could do when it really let itself go. You will now be introduced to the Kagodoris, the Indians of Kito, who equipped only with their own muscles, carry on what we would call a general trucking business. It has been the custom for centuries to transport freight in this way. And the Indians, both men and women, have developed shoulders and backs which enable them to carry amazing loads. Amid Kito's general pictures, an insistent note is struck by the churches. They are everywhere. They are of assorted sizes and periods, though many date from soon after the Spanish conquest. And they all have bells, as newcomers who are not good sleepers always speedily discover. This little chapel is the oldest church in Kito. It was built by the Spaniards in 1534. When the Jesuit fathers built this church, La Companier, way back in the 16th century, they were lavish in their use of elaborate design. The facade of handcarved stone is one of the most extraordinary things of the kind achieved in colonial America. [Music] The Church of San Francisco, another 16th century structure. The towers are of a later date, however. The original pair fell victim to one of Ecuador's more enthusiastic earthquakes. The monastery gardens of San Francisco accessible to women even today only in this way by grace of the camera. In the galleries are many fine early Spanish American paintings of scenes in the life of St. Francis. All the works of monks at various times resident here. [Music] Now we shall cross the equator again for a look at Imbabura in the northern part of the country. Except for the use of the wheel and the horse, both brought by the Spaniards, the Imbabura Indians probably lived precisely as did their ancestors, who enjoyed this lovely country long before any Europeans ever set eyes on it. Prospective travelers over the Pan-Amean Highway should note at this point that here we have a part of the route to be followed by the highway between Kito and Bogotaa, the capital of Colombia. The Imbabura Valley contains many man-made mounds, all pre- Spanish and several even pre-Inca. Some are burial mounds, some probably conceal old temples, and all a fascinating prospect for archaeologists. This is and always was a beautiful lush valley ideal for the development of the early culture which flourished here [Music] [Music] where we can have a look at Ecuadorian small city life is up near the Colombian border. The original town built here 400 years ago by the Spaniards was wiped out in 1864 by an earthquake which was probably the work of the nearby volcano Imbura. The volcano has now lapsed into harmlessness. So everybody hopes and Otavalo thrives in a very colorful way as a first rate trading center of the Otavalo Indians. As picturesque a group of aboriges as you will find in all of South America. Keeping the Pan-American Highway as it passes through Otavalo free from weeds is one of this town's minor industries. When the world's autos get back onto a peaceime basis and the highway fulfills its destiny, passing wheels will take care of the weeding. Every town in South America has its marketplace. But for color and vigor, few can equal the Saturday fair at Otavalo. There are thousands of people down there buying and selling everything from roasted guinea pigs and woolen fabrics to safety pins and love potions. Where do all those folks come from? Well, a good many came from those little farms that make checkerboard designs on the high slopes of the Andes. The mountain farm folk trudge 30 or 40 miles to get to market. Others come from farms or villages near the town. In any case, each member, large or small, of each family, totes something. [Music] Trading begins at daylight. By 11:00 in the morning, almost everything in the market has changed hands. There isn't much outright barter, but the prices we find these people charging each other today are unbelievably low. 27 cents for a boy's pair of leather shoes, a leg of lamb for 14 cents, a pound of molasses candy for 3 cents, and 5 lb of potatoes for 1 cent. For even back in keto, milk was 2 cents a quart and eggs 9 cents a dozen. So don't be sorry for an Ecuadorian if his income is low. So is his cost of living. The patron saint of the Indians is St. John the Baptist. And to be in Atavalo when the feast of San Juan is going on is to learn how simple it is for the natives to make a religious ceremony last for four joyful days and nights. Almost every Indian family possesses at least one statue, cross or saints picture. On San Juan's day, each treasured religious object is brought to the church for a special blessing. Those who own a statue of San Juan himself are particularly proud. These Indians mean no disrespect to the saints. Indeed, just the opposite when they costume the little figures in ponchos and the unmistakable headgear of the Ecuadorian native. To the Indians, even a religious ceremony is no ceremony at all without plenty of dancing and noise. And so this, from daylight to dusk. Now, let's see something of the country from which these people come. The Indians of this northern and Indian region are known collectively by the same name as their great volcano Imbabura. Many among them believe that the mountain gave birth to their ancestors. However that may be, we know from the excavation of ancient earth mounds that the early Iburas were a hardy industrious race just as their descendants are today. They used stone tools centuries before the invasion of the Incas. They were highly skilled in the weaving of cotton and wool and they were excellent farmers. Probably they till these very fields which are the homes of the Imbaburas of today. It would be a mistake for anyone to visit northern Ecuador without making friends with some of the Indians. So here we are visiting a family whose main source of income is from weaving. They're going to make a shaw for us. The first step is to pick the raw wool clean of burrs and other irrelevancies. Then the coding or combing to lay the wool fibers in a straight line and make them ready for spinning. Of course, the cotting and spinning and weaving of wool is as widespread as the human race and nearly as old. But to some of us, it is always pleasing to find an ancient handcraft flourishing anywhere. And up here among the Indians of the Ecuadorian Andes, this skill with wool is doing very nicely. Thank you. [Music] The Indians are quite capable of making their own dyes and did so until a few years ago. Now they buy some of their dyes, but they still add a few mysterious ingredients of their own. Our shaw is going to be red and blue. For some reason, which perhaps they thought too difficult for us to understand, they dyed the blue wool before spinning it and the red wool afterwards. [Music] Wool that's homegrown, home dyed, homespun. And of course, the bobbins are homemade. What price the machine age up here in the Andes? The loom is a machine, of course, sort of a machine. One of the most casual ever tied together by the hand of man. Some of the pieces aren't even tied together. They just seem to lean against each other. Even so, it works. And from looms like this come some of the finest weaving to be found in South America. This very family every Saturday morning do quite well for themselves selling their blankets and ponchos in the Oavalo market. Ecuador [Music] is ready to offer any kind of climate, any variety of scenery, rivers, mountains, cataracts, tablelands, jungles, and old cities. Your introduction to the Pastasa, a river with a mind of its own. Imagine the Pacific is little more than a 100 miles away. And yet, this water prefers to make a journey of nearly 2,000 m and empty into the Atlantic. And at times, it gets rather turbulent about it. This pastasa is one of the tributaries of the great system we loosely call the Amazon. Centuries ago, the volcano Tungarawa threw a huge lava dam across the river. The pastasa went to work on it and after some hundreds of years cut a deep gorge through which it churns its way back to the original riverbed. You can't do anything with the pastasa except give it its own way. The San Martin Bridge. Down the centuries, there have been several spans over the gorge at this point. all about 200 feet above the river and all dedicated to St. Martin who in exchange for the honor has been given the responsibility of holding them all up. [Music] The Bridge of San Francisco also seems an appropriate place for a superhuman aid in holding a span in place. The custom here is to pick up a stone before you start over and then place it before a small shrine on the other side as a thanks offering or a safe crossing. [Music] What is the right word for a tranquil remote haven of rest and beauty? Arcadia, Shangriila. Well, here's another such place. The little Ecuadorian village of Banos. You remember that no one was ever ill in Shangriila and there was great happiness and contentment. Well, occasionally someone is ill in Banos, but those who have tested the curative powers of the village mineral waters say that Banos is even the ideal place in which to be sick. Like every well- reggulated Eden, Banos has an abundance of water. The mountain streams are many and generous. Then there are the mineral baths. Most of them are free to the public, but to swim in a pool that is comparatively exclusive costs real money, about a cent and a half. The Indians of Banos are extremely aciduous bathers. Surely they must be among the most scrupulously clean of all aboriges. Many a banos woman conforms to the definition of a lady as one who can take two baths a day without bragging about it. A grand place. Banos a lovely place and expensive. The hotel bill including meals 54 cents a day. Banos is not only utterly charming, but it's the last outpost of civilization before one starts east for the Amazon by one of the routes for travelers who are bold enough to seek a water journey to the Atlantic. In this region is some of the most beautiful of all river scenery. Our headstrong friend, the Pastasa River, is with us again, about to become a mighty stream. Here it is on its impetuous way to the distant Atlantic. [Music] The natives along this stretch of the river won't use bridges. They say the bridges aren't safe. They prefer this method of getting across. Seems quite a brisk way of ending a shopping trip for Sunday dinner. [Music] The eastern part of Ecuador known as the Oriente begins here in the Pastasa Valley. Beyond here is a vast jungle, much of it still unexplored. Are we going into the jungle? No, indeed. But let's have a look at some of its animals. There are plenty of monkeys in a wide assortment. [Music] A rare specimen. Monkeys, as a rule, have the usual aotment of fingers, that is four fingers and a thumb per hand. But this creature, Mongro Marisito, is born and lives and dies all without any thumbs. [Music] The Moro whose cry is such that his silences rank among the world's sweetest sounds and whose plumage is so beautiful that he hotly resents being photographed in anything but color. Mono de la monkey of the night or the kinkaju. He sleeps all day and is active only at night. Perisoso the lazy one grows to the fury of his topmost speed. His slow motion is not done in the camera. It's his own idea. But beware of his claws. They're dangerous. Yes, this is your old friend of the crossword puzzles, the three-toed slow. Monoti, the smallest of all monkeys. His size is toylike, his disposition terrifying, his language deplorable. And now let us take to the air to pay a final visit of homage to the most impressive things in Ecuador, her mountains. This is Koropaxi from about 18,000 ft. It's a well- behaved volcano at the moment, but there's a strong smell of sulfur up here and smoke is seen now and again coming from the craters. So Kotapaci is one of those unpredictable giants, the sleeping volcanoes. It may remain quiet a thousand years or it might explode tomorrow. Chimaraso again. [Music] The crater of Tungaragua. [Music] Alar the beautiful. Centuries ago, this volcano may have been the loftiest mountain in the world. The top has been completely blown off. But if the original cone rose to the height suggested by the remaining slopes, Alar must have dwarfed even Mount Everest. It is still 17,725 ft. And Sani out there in the distance, 50 mi away, almost always covered with clouds. As for flying near it, the whirling air currents are a terrible hazard. So these are probably the first close-ups of SAI in action. One by one, say the Indians of Ecuador, the mountains of our land smolder and die. It is a symbol of things to come. One day, Sangai too will sleep in snowclad beauty, and peace will come at last to our country and to the world. [Music]