Since arriving in Ecuador, I have often been confused about the seemingly conflicting narratives that exist between anti-colonial identity and Catholicism. I often feel as though my presence in Cuenca, as a gringa, is viewed through a colonial lens. The obvious power dynamic of me, coming from a “core” country to study in what some consider a “semi-periphery” is obvious in all of my interactions. A few examples that jump immediately to mind are how my whiteness is envied by my Cuencana friends, who are all deathly afraid of tanning, or the story a taxi driver told, me in which he described to me the horrendous and arduous journey he took to reach the United States, only to get deported within the year (with me all the while thinking about how my flight to Quito didn’t have that much legroom.)
At the same time, I do feel a sense of strong anti-colonial identity in Ecuador and in Cuenca. This comes especially from President Cordova, and his socialist supporters. Many of the reforms that he has made have been anti-neoliberalism and have helped to promote indigenous rights. Additionally, Ecuador is one of the only countries that supports traditional indigenous healing as much western medicine in its insurance practices.
This strong ant-colonial sentiment contrasts starkly with the culture of Catholicism here. Catholicism is everywhere, and is ingrained in every part of the culture. Even people who claim to not be religious are more religious than most of the people I know in the United States, because it’s impossible to escape religion as it is so woven into the culture. I have often been confused by this juxtaposition, because Catholicism was such an important tool of the conquest. From my outsider viewpoint, a strong catholic sentiment could not coexist with a strong anti-colonial sentiment, because Catholicism was one of the primary goals and purposes of the Spanish Conquest of Latin America.
This is an example of syncretism, because two things that seem like they should not coexist, do and because it demonstrates the mixing and attempted amalgamation of different cultures into one new and distinct one. One way that this plays out is in the limpías that indigenous women perform on new babies. These limpías are traditional ceremonies, and use traditional plants and beliefs. The women who are able to perform limpías are proud of the work they do, and their services are sought after. However, at the end of these limpías, which are of indigenous origin, the women draw Christian crosses in ash on your forehead. It’s interesting to see people use the tool of the conquest and reclaim it as part of their own national identity so seamlessly.