Well, they're from Ecuador. My Otavalos made them. Here is my work from last summer, from Ecuador, staring me in the face in a "local" Costa Rican artisan market. Hmm....
I felt excited to see something familiar, to see how popular the Otavalos' work is. But I also felt betrayed/annoyed/a little angry. Where were the Otavalos? Could they be here? I know they sell their products all over the world, and they usually don't use a middle man. But I didn't see any Otavalos. So why weren't they selling their own textiles? What were these products doing here in Costa Rica, masked as local objects? I had so many questions. I wanted answers. And then it hit me: I have to do research here in Costa Rica; what better research project than to work in this market (I wanted to work in the Otavalan market this summer anyway, had I gone there instead of CR) and find out as much as these people would be willing to tell me? I was so excited at the prospect of my project.
Since my little epiphany, I have only gone back to the market once. I plan on returning at least once more (depending on time, I may go back 2 or 3 times). I threw out my plan to the other AIFS students, and a bunch of the girls agreed that they would like to go and see what the market is all about, learn a bit about my research, and of course buy some gifts. So that's how we spent yesterday afternoon.
At the first stall that had Otavalan textiles, I had Alejandra (Ale - pronounced A-lay) ask because she was born in Mexico and lives in Texas, so she speaks Spanish fluently. That, combined with the fact that she is a Latina, should mean that they would be more honest with her. Or so I thought. The woman told her that they were local, made in Costa Rica - even gave her the name of a town; said they were made by hand and other things. It made me so angry. I knew she was lying. Yes, they are made by hand; I know this because I helped! And it's not right that the artisans who made them shouldn't get credit. I was also a bit angry because she thought she could lie to us just because we're gringas; we're white and foreign, so we wouldn't know any better. Little did she know that was not the case. We told her it wasn't true and walked away.
I was a bit more successful at the 2nd stall. They had a TON of stuff from Otavalo - almost everything at the stall, actually. There was also a lot of stuff that I recognized as being from Nicaragua. When I was standing, waiting to talk to the owner, some of my friends asked what I was doing. I explained it to them, pointing to some of the items. I'm not sure if that's what helped me obtain the truth - becuase they heard me say Ecuador, so they could tell I knew what I was talking about - or not, but I became estatic when they told me, yes those items were from Ecuador. I explained to them about my work last summer and why I was interested, hoping they'd answer more questions, but I didn't really get anywhere. They wanted to make a sale or have their own conversation. A little bummer, but I'm hoping to go back and ask them more specific questions. If I pester them with a series of questions, they won't ignore me. I was just too excited to think that clearly. I was so proud of my Otavalos that they were at least being represented in what is basically the tourist capital of Central America.
The 3rd stall was awesome. The woman knew about the Otavalo - could describe how they look/dress. She even told me that she didn't know why it said "Costa Rica" when it was made in Ecuador. Then, she showed me "molas" which I told her I knew and that they are made it Panama. I think she was impressed and appreciative that I knew what I was talking about. Ending my day with her left me hopeful for more success when I return. I'm very excited to continue working on the project of my own creation :)
This is what it looks like in the market, though it is usually very crowded. Tons of stalls. Lots of noise. Not so bright. Your typical market, I guess.
A very touristy, but fun, place. They have EVERYTHING that you could possibly want for a souvenir. It's a bit overwhelming your first time in there. There is just so much stuff. Vendors call out to you, tell you there stuff is the best, they give you a good price, ask you your name. And all this happens even if you are just walking by. Should you happen to stop or walk into their stall, then they don't leave your side. You must be fully served. They want to show you all the great things they have that you MIGHT like and tell you how much you need them. For us foreigners, it can be too much. We like our independence and our space. We don't want to be followed around, told what to buy. It's the reason many Americans hate shopping for cars. And this is your experience the ENTIRE time in the market. Ah, Latin markets....Also, most of the stalls have almost all of the same stuff. So it's up to you to shop around, hagle for the best price, remember which stall has what exactly, and decide which one you like the absolutely best - because, even though they have the same products, they aren't all the same quality or design or whatever. And you have to do all of this in a foreign language and a foreign currency. Eventually, you just have to walk away. I've watched this happen to almost everyone around me; I've even felt it myself.
But if you can stick it out, you will have survived a really interesting experience. You'll also feel truly satisfied with your purchase because you had to work for it; you earned that keychain, darn it!
The outside of the artisan's market. You can see some wares hanging on the right to be sold. The market actually consists of a long strip of stalls on either side with a wide corridor to walk down the middle. The entire length of the market - probably 1 or 2 city blocks - is covered with a metal roof.
What a fun place! Being the consumate shopper that I am, I would love this! Hope you picked up some nice souvenirs for yourself!
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