Andrés Cornejo Pinto

Ozogoche

Cuviví is the Ecuadorean indigenous name for the upland sandpiper, a wading bird that has special significance for the communities living around the Ozogoche lakes in the middle of the Andes. Each year, these birds migrate south from North America. Around September they pass the Ozogoche lakes, where large numbers then “commit suicide,” plunging from great heights into the ice-cold water. A girl lives near the lake. Her uncle lives in the US, and she might be heading there herself. In the meantime, she awaits the arrival of the cuvivís, few of which have appeared in recent years. The lakes are drying up.

La clara y oscura

Salango is a small parish south of Manabí. What this land means to Ecuador, however, is huge. Its name is associated with the pre-Columbian legacy of the Manta Wancavilca cultures, the humpback whales that arrive each year to mate, the homonymous island and its coral reefs, the great wealth of marine fauna. It is there, in one of the places with the greatest archeological and environmental heritage of our country, where the Polar fishmeal processor has been operating for 35 years. What does not emerge from the idyllic postcards of the area is the foul smell that pollutes the air, the portrait of people sick from the factory's toxic wastes, the disgusting black smoke that flows into the sea directly from the processor pipeline. That is why it is the struggle of the few members of the community who have not given up and demand that Polar leave.