Feelings of being trapped in my own body, in my anaco. The anaco
is the...READ ON
Feelings of being trapped in my own body, in my anaco. The anaco
is the traditional clothes women wear in my community. For many
Kichwa migrants the relationship that we have with our traditional
clothes changes for various reasons. In my case, wearing the anaco
has always been a political choice and an ever changing
conversation about what it means to wear it and how I feel while
wearing it. Sometimes it feels like a gift, and sometimes it feels
heavy. Many times people who are fascinated by "a real life
indigenous person" forget the personal boundaries that they would
otherwise uphold if I was wearing jeans, touching my body without
consent, taking pictures without consent, and the exotifying
questions that leave my spirit that much heavier. On the other hand,
wearing it also brings me pride as I know my ancestors would feel
happy to see me carrying our culture forward. Wearing it is a way of
honoring the matriarchs in my family and their fight so we don't
forget who we are and where we come from. Wearing the anaco is
always a complicated conversation with all parts of myself. Hamilton,
Canada - March 4, 2021
Wasipi. Hamilton, March 27, 2021.
the moon that never abandons me. August 22, 2020
Virginia Anrango - my mom has been an entrepreneur for the past 30 years,...READ ON
Virginia Anrango - my mom has been an entrepreneur for the past 30 years, working at festivals, fairs and events selling the crafts she imports from Ecuador. The pandemic forced her work to shut down and the uncertainty was met with her resilience. She wore our traditional clothes every single day to make herself feel better, to feel in control, to feel powerful. My sister and I watched my mom as she empowered herself as her whole life changed. Towards the start of the winter, she enrolled in online classes to finish her high school degree. She always taught us to keep going, be resilient and find our grounding in our culture. Hamilton, Canada. March 23, 2021
Double exposure of my hands and a candle ceremony. The desire to remember who...READ ON
Double exposure of my hands and a candle ceremony. The desire to remember who I was before my body knew abuse seeped through the ceremonies I began to remember. By the water I found two rocks, held them in my hand, gifted one to my altar and kept on with me. For protection. Atacames, Ecuador - February 2, 2018
Self portrait after I cut my hair off. May 4, 2020.
Mama Chumbi. In the Kichwa culture, the chumbi is a traditional woven belt...READ ON
Mama Chumbi. In the Kichwa culture, the chumbi is a traditional woven belt that is worn with our traditional clothes, the anaco. My grandma taught me that by wearing the chumbi I protect my womb from bad energies. Photographed is my childhood chumbi placed on the shore of Lake Ontario, my mom brought this piece of my history with her when we migrated to Canada. Hamilton, Canada - August 29, 2021
Wilkay is my personal narrative that speaks on the resiliency of the heart and spirit. I share my story of transforming and healing from the abuse I’ve experienced at different times in my life and the realities of being an indigenous woman in a patriarchal colonial society. In Kichwa, Wilkay means altar, and the process of creating this body of work is a ceremonial experience that weaves in my own spiritual practice, ancestral memory and my search for empowerment outside of the limitations placed on my body.
-----
Wilkay is the first chapter of Runa Kawsay, a transmedia project that explores nuances of Kichwa Indigenous identity from the personal experiences of the Kichwa community living on Turtle Island (North America)
This project is currently in progress.
Eli Farinango
Eli Farinango is a Kichwa-Otavalo artist and visual storyteller.