I decided to begin my post-program trip up the coast in Guayaquil, Ecuador’s largest and most populous city, because I didn’t really get a good look at it the first time around. I also wanted to see how the other half lives: this country is very regionalistic, and over the last few weeks, I’ve become a little too attached to the sierra for my own personal standards of objectivity.
What I’ve realized from wandering around today is that Jaime Nebot, the mayor of this port city on the River Guayas, is a self-promoter. And part of me says he has reason to be. During his tenure, state and private funds transformed the depressed boardwalk into the gorgeous Malecón 2000, a park with museums, theaters, and restaurants that snakes along the estuary. Visiting today with my Columbia buddy, Eric Hirsch and a friend who participated in SIT’s Peru program with him, I just gawked at just how green, clean, and well-maintained it all looked.
We continued into Santa Ana, a barrio built into a large hill overlooking the water. This spot was once one of the most dangerous in the city, a place where cops wouldn’t even dare to patrol as its winding streets and dark alleys providing safe haven for ladrones. Today, it is a polished tourist destination, thanks to mayoral intitiatives. Stone steps wind through cafes, bars, stores, and cement homes painted a rainbow of bright colors, informational signs and security guards are positioned every few hundred yards, every so often on the route up the hill, there is a garden, plaza, or playground. (Photos to come, I’m writing this from our hostel). I didn’t get a chance to really talk to the people of the town and the streets did seem a little dead on this random Monday afternoon, but I can imagine they appreciate the renovation. Nebot isn’t shy about letting people know who did the deed. His name is practically on every castiron lamppost.
But Guayaquil is a city of extremes. While the city’s elites (the king of banana exports, and the richest man in Ecuador, Alvaro Noboa) live like the wealthiest people in Miami Beach, the Guasmos slums at the southern end of the city are home to some of the country’s poorest. Every few weeks, there are reports (more in El Comercio, Quito’s daily, than in Guayaquil’s paper, which is a big Nebot fan) about the city’s failure to collect the trash in many neighborhoods on time. Plastic bags of refuse just pile up on the sides of the roads. It’s an uneven place that, in this respect, can really stand in for most Latin American cities. Wikipedia has also written some about how Nebot’s gentrification plan was modeled after Giuliani’s in New York, and about the sometimes excessive force used by police to keep street vendors out of the Malecòn.
Even still, most Guayaquileños love Nebot. He’s continued the city’s age old quest to cecede from the country, the argument being, they make all of the country’s money, yet officials in Quito get to spend it. He has been in a well-publicized war with President Correa to get the city more respect (the serrana in me wants to say: as if the city doesn’t get enough respect already). But I think his positive public image here is due more to how flashy and impressive his projects are. And the fact that his name is always on a gold-plated plaque somewhere.
