Stratovolcanoes and You

So, one interesting thing about the area I work in is that there is a very large, very active stratovolcano nearby. We're talking lots of ash plumes, magma, and the occasional incandescent rock or two. Oh yeah, and then there's also a pyroclastic flow once in a while. Here's what an ash plume looks like from a satellite. They are much lovelier in person, as it turns out.

Her name is Tungurahua (III). Tungurahua II collapsed roughly 3,000 years ago, and that's what current Tungurahua (III's) "volcanic edifice" is built around. The original Tungurahua (I) collapsed during the late Pleistocene. But, the Andes are relatively "new", so there is still a lot of activity going on there. Geologists and vulcanologists can explain this much better than I can, obviously.

Anyhow, the village that I'll be spending the bulk of my time in (aka Salasaka) has a beautiful view of said volcano, which stands about 16,000 ft at its summit. I sure think it's pretty, anyway. The picture below was taken the last time I was there, in an unusually wet early spring. The greenhouses that you see in the valley below the volcano are mostly roses and other ornamentals, mostly. This is also the primary valley in Ecuador where avocados are grown. Really, really good avocados. (This also reminds me of the unfortunate time I was inadvertently stranded in "avocado town", called Patate, due to the Carnaval festivities (no buses out, due to the parades!). But, that is another story, for another time...)
So, in Salasaka, even at an altitude of 8,000 feet or so, when Mama Tungurahua erupts, we mostly "only" get ash fallout. Not that this isn't sometimes catastrophic; most people are subsistence farmers to some degree, and when ash covers your small crop, that crop usually dies. No food. For you, or for your animals (which you also rely on for food, in addition to other things, like wool). Also, the water all gets tainted by the volcanic ash, too. Boiling it doesn't help, either, because you still will end up ingesting all kinds of particulates. So, things get tricky, in other words. Why don't they just move, you might ask? Well, land rights (and people's relationship to the land, more generally) are something for an entirely different post.

The OTHER place I am going to be spending my time (when I'm not up in the village) is Baños. There is internet access there, and Argentine beef, and falafel, among other things that I am fond of, including orchids. The interesting thing about Baños is that it is actually right at the foot of the mountain that is Tungurahua (III). This makes for lots of really amazing hot springs and mineral baths (as the name of the town suggests).*

Thanks to David for the illustration. For perspective, Salasaka is about half-way between Ambato (where this photo was taken from) and Baños.

Honestly, though, there is nothing like getting up before sunrise, and going up to the springs, and soaking and watching the sun come up over the Andes, under the spray of a huge waterfall. It's also luscious and green and, for whatever reason,(knock on wood) has not lately had serious problems with Mama T, due to the side of the mountain it's on. Yet, as I'm sure you've noted, it is quite close. Sure, the town's been evacuated before (in 1999). But, there are great evacuation routes now (and I plan to stay on one of them)!

David and I once took the "chiva"** up the side of the volcano, to try to see some of this much-talked-about magma. It was too cloudy to see even our own shoes at 11,000 feet, and we were instead served some local sugar cane liquor mixed with hot guayusa tea, as a consolation prize, I suppose. It was still a great night, even without the magma (although as I'm writing this, yes, I realize it's not such a great "story"). Tell me that one again about how you didn't see any magma! Oh, well. Maybe next time there will be a more noteworthy tale.

So, anyway, I have stratovolcanoes on the brain. I'm not worried, though, and you shouldn't be either. Really.





*To dispel any misconceptions, Baños does not literally mean "toilets", although it is commonly used euphemistically to refer to them. It actually means "baths". I am not living in "toilet-town", in other words. (Although, wouldn't that be something?!)

** Aaah, the chiva. It's basically a brightly-painted open-air truck with benches for seats, the driver of which blares horrible reggaetón music to attract potential customers. The "pleasure" of the whole experience will set you back about $2.