WORLDWIDE MATERIALISM

Alpaca. 

That’s what the Otavalans are mainly renowned for. Their traditional weavings. It’s a type of wool, or something, that features these unique designs of all kinds.

 Quite beautiful, really.

 For years, I’ve been seeing Latino people in New York wearing these sweaters and hats, but never knew anything about them. Though I always wanted one. Here, though, they have tremendous displays of blankets, colorful sweaters, bags, capes - everywhere in the market.

 Gotta get myself one of those.

 So I continue strolling down the block, right, checking out the stalls - when I come practically face to face with this pig - except it’s whole and roasted! The whole pig, man - but it's cooked! With the head and all, just staring at you. On a table with these indigenous women with knives and forks - ready to carve it up. 

Holy shit!

Also sitting at the table benches are families, kids and all, plates out - like it’s all ordinary!  Well, here, I guess it is - but I’ve never seen this before.

 Hey, they love their choncho, man.

I’m roaming around the market for a couple of days, checking it out, navigating my way through huge crowds - and it’s cool and all, y’know, but I’m starting to get really sick of it. 

Bored. 

Agitated.

 I never liked shopping in the first place, not even when I was a kid.

 I also always hated fairs and parades, and clowns and amusement parks, for that matter. It all just seemed so artificial. 

Especially malls.

New York’s like that now - just one big mall.

It used to have an edge.

A soul.

 Now it’s just like being in anytown USA - but with all the annoyances of a city. That’s how I feel about this place now, too.

 Way too touristy. 

I hate touristy shit, man.

 All these international couples milling around - hundreds of them. Browsing and buying. Maybe it’s me, but I just don’t get it. I don’t see the point. I mean, does this really make them happy? Do they really enjoy it? Or are they just going through the motions because they can’t think of anything else to do?

 What if it’s the only thing that keeps them together? The activity of shopping? 

Really.

What if they buy, say, white wine goblets - and for five minutes they totally admire these goblets. Then they go back home, get drunk on white wine - and get into a huge fight! Then they throw these very same wine goblets at each other - smashing them to pieces!  All the while yelling and screaming at each other - before they retreat to separate rooms?! 

 It’s like TV, man.

 Couples will watch inane TV shows together for hours a night - for years - just so they don’t have to talk to each other!

Or think of anything new.

 It probably saves their marriages, y’know? 

Just the sheer act of watching mindless TV shows - keeps them alive!

A heavy gloom descends upon me as I sit there observing the shoppers with increasing disgust. I gotta get outta here, man. I head back to my hostel and sit down to meditate with my Holosync.

     I wake up the next morning, and my first thought is - I cannot do this touristy shit for even one more minute. 

 No way.

 Fuck the Alpaca sweater, man.

 I have no idea of what I’m gonna do, but I know I am not going back to that market!  I walk outside and just go the opposite way of the market, towards the countryside. Like I said, I don’t know where the hell I’m going, I’m just going. I wind up hiking around Laguna de San Pablo, at the foot of Volcan de Imbambura…and the more I hike the better I feel. Hours pass, until at one point I realize that I am completely energized. 

 Gratitude now replaces the gloom. Joy transcends the anger and anxiety. The outdoors. I can breathe out here. It’s the magic you can only experience when you’re away from the chaos of ‘civilization’. Surrounded by greenery, I take in the tranquility and sense of wonder that only nature has to offer. Swear to God, it feels like… like, I just broke out of prison, or something. I’m just exhaling the craziness and stress, and inhaling… peace. 

Another couple of hours effortlessly whiz by. I just sit down on this rock and am totally vibing with the view of the lake and the volcano in the distance, until nightfall descends upon me. 

Wow.

Joe Montaperto

Writer, murderer, bon vivant par excellance - I pay the rent as a catering bartender, and sometimes shoot poison darts at white people from trees in Hoboken, while shouting UUUMMMBBAAAAGGGGAAAA!!

https://www.joemontaperto.com
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OTAVALO