We came to collect the stories of those affected by oil development in an attempt to give voice to the voiceless. Now back in Quito my note book sits next to my keyboard full of these voices and I´m not sure what to do with them. These are not happy stories, with fairy tale endings. They are not stories of the privileged, of those that have access to a future of hope.

This afternoon we said goodbye to Rio Aguarico. A river that for generations provided the communities we visited with much of their life’s sustenance. Each evening I watched women wash clothing along its banks, families bath, and both men and women attempt to catch fish. This river

We have arrived in the Oriente. This morning we flew out of Quito's high mountain climate down into the heat and humidity of one of Ecuador's largest oil towns, Largo Agrio. Signs of oil development are virtually every where and already I feel I have seen so much.

Kate and I have just left Rio Muchacho, an organic permaculture farm we have been doing volunteer work at for the last week. My last morning at Rio Muchacho was spent clearing a garden plot of weeds and dried corn stalks to prepare the soil for planting. The day was the hottest it had

Today I stood on a hill over one of Ecuador´s highland towns, Otavalo, and drew the scene before me in my sketch book. Steep curving young lush mountains patch worked by farms surround this northern highland town. Grey icy white clouds added depth and texture to the sky and hung around the bases of distant mountains.

Two years ago I spent an afternoon in this town, which holds one of South America´s biggest artisan markets, with 15 other PLU students as a part of PLU´s J-term environmental literature class. I have returned to explore further what captured me on my first visit. I´m taking things slower, staying in places longer so that I can catch the things I missed before.