CIVIL SERVICE WITNESSES: MARTA'S STORY

“Ibarra - Mejor dejar la vida como está”, by Marta Cattani, Servizio Civile Universale, Ibarra (Ecuador)

Three months ago, I set off with a single idea in mind: to have no expectations, but to experience everything that came my way, from the moment I landed in Quito onwards. And that's exactly how it was.

Ibarra welcomed me with its green parks, the white facades of the city center, and the constant noise of the traffic. I learned that pedestrians never have the right of way here... but the “perros de la calle” do.

I got to know the buses that take me to work: large blue vehicles that barely slow down to let people on. There are no season tickets here: you pay for your ticket each time, and almost every time the route changes, depending on the needs of the driver or passengers. Through the windows, with reggaeton or a movie as the soundtrack, I learned to find my way around the neighborhoods, to be patient, and to carefully choose the right moment to press the stop button, to avoid having to get off in the middle of the street. I learned the right phrases to go to the market and get “Ecuadorian” prices, not Western ones.

I was amazed by the kindness of the people: drivers remember their passengers, people help you choose the right bus and smile even without knowing you. I found myself not taking photos, as if I wanted to experience everything with my own eyes, without filters, without missing a moment. After years of not writing, I started again right here—even if only with a few sentences—to preserve moments, glances, and instants that I am sure I will want to share once I return.

Every morning I wake up and see the two volcanoes that embrace Ibarra, Imbabura and Cotacachi: majestic, green, alive. For a girl who grew up in the Dolomites, this greenery and these palm trees at an altitude of two thousand meters are pure wonder.

Work has been - and continues to be - a further source of discovery. The first month, I felt like I was exploring the various areas of the office: from renewing documents for people in human mobility, mainly from Venezuela and Colombia, to managing economic and social workshops, to creating vulnerability diagnostics and awareness-raising meetings on gender-based violence and female empowerment.

Recently, I have also decided to step outside my area of expertise, which is reception and legal assistance for people in human mobility, to explore the psycho-social aspect of this work.

There have been many changes in these three months, but this people teaches us to see the positive, to find solutions—even the most creative ones—and to never give up. The strength of the Ecuadorian people is something I thought I understood, but which I am only now beginning to truly comprehend.

I am writing this testimony from home, working remotely, during a curfew imposed following the declaration of a national strike 13 days ago. The government's elimination of diesel subsidies, in a country where almost everything travels by road, has had a huge impact. The population rose up: the fuse, which had been lit for some time, exploded. Indigenous communities took to the streets, blocking the main roads. Imbabura, the region where Ibarra is located, was among the first to promote a strike with no time limit; President Noboa responded by sending in the army.

Violence is inflaming Otavalo and Quito, but this is a collective struggle from which no one feels excluded. It is incredible to think of entire communities leaving everything behind to defend their rights, despite threats, fear of being hurt... or worse. 

These people teach us that we must not give up, that it is worth fighting for what we believe in, and that the greatest strength comes from community, from a shared purpose. One day, a man on the street told me: “mejor dejar la vida como está” (better to leave life as it is), and I chose to interpret it as an invitation to let things flow, to follow without judging, to live fully, without forcing, welcoming. This, for me, is Ecuador.