accountability [uh-koun-tuh-bil-i-tee] noun – the obligation of an individual or organization to account for its activities, accept responsibility for them, and to disclose the results in a transparent manner. It also includes the responsibility for money or other entrusted property. [definition provided by: businessdictionary.com(italics added for emphasis)]
On my most recent trip to Tena I found myself confronted with the epitome of Ecuadorian business etiquette, or lack thereof, which confirmed my suspicion that accountability in this country (or on this continent) is lacking in a variety of areas. My own experience was not one to lose sleep over – it consisted in a trip to the lavandería where I left the majority of the clothing I brought to Ecuador in the hands of a family run laundry business. It felt so good to know that I would return to the jungle with mold-free, clean smelling clothes, even if they would only return to their damp, musty condition within days of going home. Upon returning to my hostel where I ripped open my bag of clean clothes like a little girl on Christmas…it really is the little things that make me happy out here… I began to see white spots… no, white BLOBS, on every… single… item… that I pulled out of the bag. Megan was there as a witness and support. Every time I took out another ruined article of clothing I looked to her, “Megan, oh no, Megan! No not my only pair of jeans! Megan, look at this dress MEGAN!”
It might sound a little superficial, but owning only a small supply of clothing that I wear every day, and that I have to wear every day, bleach stains seemed like perhaps a bigger debacle than I might have considered them under different circumstances.
Regardless, I was taking them back to the lavandería. When I got there I found the husband and wife who had been prepared for my arrival when Berta, the owner of my hostel, called them from her contacts in her cell phone. After laying my bleached clothing out on the counter as evidence, the couple began to explain that they were very sorry; they had been at a political event the day before and had left their son to tend to clients.
There was a lot of “It was just that… You see what happened was…” In Spanish we call it the “Es que…fue que” syndrome. In other words, there was no transparency as to what exactly had happened, but a cloudy vagueness of echando la culpa “projecting the blame.” Interrupting them as politely as I could, I pointed out that it didn’t actually matter all that much how it had happened, but that in fact it did. Then I asked them for their suggestion as to what they might do to compensate. Silence.
I mentioned to them that they needed to provide some sort of compensation for the ruined clothing. I suggested that they refund the 4 dollars it cost me to have the laundry washed, plus some extra to go buy a new shirt. Their reaction to this was one of outrage. How could I expect them to refund my money? They didn’t have the money! Furthermore, my clothing was OLD! They pointed to some holes in my dress.
Yes, I told them. All of my clothes are old. I don’t own new clothing. But they are my clothes!
As I stood in their shop, explaining to them that part of owning a business is to take responsibility for a mistake in a service, or for service poorly done, the couple avoided eye contact with me and stood with their arms crossed and their heads turned facing the wall. They would not do anything to make up for the ruined clothing.
Before I left the shop, I told them that I would be back and that the least they could do would be to refund my four dollars.
Returning back to my hostel, frustrated and bewildered, I found Berta and told her that the couple had not paid any attention to my complaint. She had had it. We were going to La oficina de consumo the very next day para reclamar. Reclamar seems the perfect word for the situation. It’s better than “complain;” more fitting than “denounce.” So I began to use “reclamar” as if it were plain English whenever I talked about the debacle. This introduction of Spanish words into the English language is called “Spanglish,” and the more time spent here, the more we find ourselves becoming proficient in it.
Back in my room, we prepared ourselves for a grand Ecuadorian court case. We were NOT going to allow this kind of injustice. I owed it not only to myself but to the greater population of Ecuador. Together we were going to change the string of unaccountability so apparent in this country. We searched the web for the best riot vocabulary we could find. Here were some of the phrases we came up with:
¡Esto es una atrocidad!
¡Qué barbaridad!
¡Es una injusticia!
All of these outbursts must be augmented by shaking one’s fists in the air.
In the end, we didn’t picket outside the shop. Instead I calmly returned to receive three articles of black clothing that I had allowed the couple to die for me, and they had apparently thought over the possibility that I might hold them accountable for ruining my clothes and offered to refund my 4 dollars. But not today. They didn’t have the money. After 3 more visits they must have been convinced that I was not going to give up, and reluctantly returned my money.
While my clothing is replaceable, and I don’t exactly worry much about looking spotless while trudging around in the rainforest, this event quite clearly exemplifies what I have observed as a general hesitance to accept responsibility. No one wants to be accountable for a failure, or for a mistake. Who’s to say that Ecuador is wrong for being this way? Is it “just cultural?” But even so, what is the reason behind a cultural tendency to not want to accept responsibility or blame? Could it be decades of dictatorship and political instability that put everyone on edge for a long time? A strong hand, control and hierarchy form the basis for how things are run down here. All the way down to Yachana this is how it works. I can’t change it and I’m certainly not in a position to say that it should or shouldn’t. So as much in terms of my bleached clothing as for the political and cultural nature of the whole country of Ecuador, I choose to let go of that which I cannot change.
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