Dios Mio (My God!)

On my second night here in Quito, I had my first encounter with Ecua-religion, which by our standards, is more like a very inclusive superstitious club than a religion. I´m really lucky that Sara was with me because my cultural sensitivity was really put to the test with this experience which went something like this:.

Sara and I returned to the house about 7:30pm after a hard day of TEFL classes and practice teaching to find Dorita and Eddie formally entertaining our grandparents and two mystery visitors in the sitting room, which we know already is only used for very serious occasions. After a few minutes of small talk and introductions, the group invited us to accompany them to Dorita´s aunt´s house down the street and we enthusiastically obliged. As we processed down the steps and out into the winding streets of the neighborhood, I realized Dorita was carrying a veiled bassinette that seemed to be the reason for our trip. I rushed over to her to see who this mysterious baby was. Upon peering through the lacy veil, I realized that the inhabitant wasn´t a baby at all, but rather a cheezy plastic molded doll of the Baby Jesus whose face was halfway rubbed off and could be purchased at the dollar store. As we paraded through the neigborhood, family friends and neighbors began walking up to the bassinette, peering in, and tickling the plastic chin as they gurgled and cooed at it. Just as I thought the experience couldnt get any more storyworthy, we arrived at the aunt´s house where we were welcomed by the light of a flaming altar. Dorita planted the Baby Jesus on the shrine and we all held hands as one of the mystery guests said prayers and worshipped the plastic idol with the whole of her being. After about 20 hail marys and several bible verses which I politely declined to read because I was afraid my pronounciation would ruin the piousness of it all, we turned on the lights and toasted each other with homemade flower wine and cookies.

Now, strange as this experience may seem, there is actually a really heartwarming story behind the whole thing. We later learned that this procession is a neighborhood ritual that has been going on for over 14 years in my Quito neighborhood, "La Loma Grande". The people are so united that every couple of months they assess the happenings of the community and pick one family to house the Baby Jesus so that he may look after their home, blessing them, and bringing good tidings. As Dorita and Eddie had only been married a few months before, they had had the honor of hosting so that the baby would bring luck and love to their union. We had witnessed the passing of the baby to Dorita´s aunt who was having health problems and could really use the prayers and support of the community. I was truly touched, despite having initially been a little creeped out. Anyone want to pass a baby with me when I get home?

I have since come to find out that while 90% of the country is supposedly Catholic, the majority of people do not attend church. This is particularly perplexing because people such as Eddie and Dorita and my grandparents Mamita and Papita have images of Christ and his disciples plastered around the house. "The Last Supper" is proudly displayed over the kitchen table in both houses, one version an oversized framed print of Da Vinci´s work, the other a metal cutout which in the last couple days has boinged halfway off its base and is now a 3-dimensional scupture looming over our meals. If the normal nightly happenings are this good, I cant wait to make the trip to church.