C - Close to Home

“I’m on my way, I’m on my way; home sweet home.”

For anyone reading this blog, please remember that this is being written from the context of life in coastal Ecuador and is not necessarily a reflection of life throughout the country.

Along the coast, most of the people residing here are born into a town and live their entire lives in or around that town. This is primarily because of family, logistical and financial concerns. (There are exceptions, of course, and those exceptions increase every year; I’m writing about my views over the past five years and the stories that I’ve heard.)

The core of coastal societal structure has traditionally been the “comuna”. A comuna is a town where a family (or families) settled and made a living, and many of the social structures (family growth, policies, property ownership, etc.) are built around supporting the town. Laws were passed and decisions were made based on what was best for the community.

The development of the comuna was primarily because of logistics. Whereas now I can drive from Puerto Lopez to Salinas in two hours, it was a 12-hour bus ride twenty years ago. Even a town like Las Tunas, a place 15 minutes south of here and a great lunch destination, was a six-hour horse-and-mule hike before the road was paved.

Until recently, a comuna was self-sufficient financially. Food and housing were sourced locally with excess products being sold/traded in neighboring or larger towns. (Tourism and some non-local influence are changing this dynamic, but there is still very little manufacturing or other outside industry here.)

Until recently, this has been reflected in government policies as well. If a person or product originates in a given location, he or it was “born” there, and that designation is permanent. This can be frustrating at times as a couple of examples show:

• We purchased our car in Guayaquil, so it was “born” there. Until a few years ago, we needed to return to Guayaquil’s province to renew our annual vehicle registration.
• A person must vote in national elections from their “home” district (and participation is mandatory). My wife’s “home” district, however, was designated as Machala – a city about eight hours south of here. Her participation isn’t mandatory yet, and we’re trying to change this before the next election.

The tight social structure has many benefits. An outsider's acceptance into a town can be contagious (“A friend of my cousin is a friend of mine” kind of thing), and crime rates can be fairly low (most people won’t steal from a family member).

I suspect that within a generation most of this isolation and family engenderment will fade; for now, it’s a nice feeling to enjoy.