IIOBIiBe 



I 



lioBAMBA nestles in the foothills of the towering 

 Andes of Ecuador, a city of sharp contrasts and of colorful char- 

 acter. It is a sparkling jewel set in the rough-hewn diadem of an 

 ancient empire of the Inca kings. 



Austere in the distance, Mount Chimborazo rises in snow-clad 

 majesty to an elevation of 20,468 feet, the loftiest peak in this vast 

 land of fearful heights and tortuous grades. On either side her 

 snows feed sparkling streams which descend to gurgle through dank 

 tropical jungles. But aloft is the land of the Children of the Sun. 



Clinging to traditions of a forgotten age the Quechua Indians 

 live among the mountain fastnesses of Ecuador and Peru in much 

 the same fashion as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago. They 

 till the soil of fertile two-mile-high valleys and broad rolling plains; 

 graze their flocks amid the hills; and hold themselves aloof from the 

 encroachment of modern civiUzation. 



Yet the proud Quechuas invade Riobamba by the thousands 

 every Saturday. That is their market day; the traditional day of 

 their feria which corresponds in a way to a midwest county fair. 

 No able-bodied, self-respecting Indian would miss the weekly event 

 if he could help it, for then the carnival spirit reigns. 



Perhaps the weekly market day is a relic of the ancient past. 

 The Quechuas have outUved the rise and fall of successive civiliza- 

 tions. Theirs was the language of the Inca empire which spread its 

 gilded influence from Colombian borders to the pampas of the 

 Argentine. They never were conquered, for they did not fight. 

 "Wlien Francisco Pizarro destroyed the last of the Inca kings he 

 merely effaced leadership and the Indians returned to their ancient 

 ways, tolerating but never acknowledging Spanish rule. 



As many as twenty thousand Indians may crowd their way into 

 Riobamba on market day. Most of them walk. Rather, they trot, 

 for it is a peculiarity of the people that they shuffle along as though 

 always in a hurry. And some cover incredible distances in a short 

 time. Many travel as much as fifteen or twenty miles with heavy 

 burdens on their backs, taking their goods to market. Rarely do 

 they ride. Women never do. If the family boasts a burro or llama, 

 it will always be the man who rides. Usually the beasts are burdened 

 with products of the soil on their way to market. Enroute home- 

 257 ward, a man may ride. Like women, the children walk. 



