Biography:
Eli Farinango is a Kichwa artist and visual storyteller, born in Kichwa territory (Quito, Ecuador) and raised in Algonquin territory (Ottawa, Canada). Through her lens she explores the vastness and beauty of the healing journey while making...
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Focus:Photographer, Environment, History, Documentary, Humanitarian, Visual Communications , Human Rights, Artist, Storyteller, Visual Artist, History and Culture Desk, Community
Kachi (salt) in Kichwa culture salt is used as an offering in celebrations and in ceremonies, in our home in Hamilton, it blends with the everyday. Runa Kawsay is the beauty and ceremonial in everyday things. Hamilton, Canada - February 9, 2021.
Indigeneity is often stereotyped and romanticized as belonging in one space and looking a certain way. Growing up as Indigenous migrants sometimes means we don't fit in. We’re not Kichwa enough for our home territory and in North America we are mislabeled Latinx, which erases our histories as Indigenous peoples. We often become experts at existing in two worlds at once. Saywa is a17 year-old Kichwa warmi born in Turtle Island. Her way of connecting to her culture is through drawing, learning Kichwa and doing typical teenager things, like playing video games and watching anime. Hamilton, Canada. February 13, 2021.
My father left Ecuador when he was 23, he travelled to Europe, Australia, US, and eventually settled in Canada. Despite the lateral violence that exists in our communities, the poverty that his family lived in my dad and other relatives formed their own band, Sisa Pacari and played in music festivals, malls, and the main streets in Canadian cities for 10 years.
This is an in camera double exposure of my father's band in the streets of Toronto in the 1990s and the flutes he keeps in our home in Hamilton, Canada. For many Kichwa families, migrating as Mindalaes (travelling merchants) has been the way of life since time immemorial. Hamilton, Canada - May 28, 2021 -
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 find our grounding in our culture. Hamilton, Canada - March 23, 2021 -
Projection of my great grandmother's picture on my debajero - a part of my traditional clothes - growing up away from my traditions sometimes means having a complicated relationship with my traditional clothes, my anaco. She is a reminder of why I continue to wear my traditional clothes. I do it as an homage to her, to my other ancestras, to my mother, to my future children. I hold it as a sacred connection to all those who fought for me to walk as a proud Kichwa woman. Hamilton, Canada - November 15, 2020.
This image is a portrait of my mom, Virginia and my sister, Saywa. To me it is such an important
reminder of the power of the matriarchy in my community. As a Kichwa woman who grew up in
the diaspora, it was through my mother’s determination that my sisters and I grew up with a deep
love and respect for our roots. Growing up in away from community often left me feeling like I didnt belong and my family and I
often experienced discrimination and racism for being indigenous. To me, this image is part of my
healing process, and a reminder of the strength of our matriarchs and the defiance of the new
generation to continue carrying on our culture, wherever we are.
The exposed roots of the corn that my sister Saywa and I grew during the pandemic. In Kichwa Sapi means root, to us, nature is our teacher that shows us the necessary cycles of death and rebirth. During the pandemic my depression caused me to die many times over. I was reborn many times too and sometimes I struggled to come back. I held on to myself, to my root, to my mom's food, my sister’s smile, my dad’s music and I came back, my root brought me back. Hamilton, Canada - March 21, 2021.
In our community hair is sacred, you are to keep your hair braided and only those closest to you are allowed to touch the sacred hair. My dad he tells us stories of when it was cut to keep him safe from discrimination. Hair cutting to avoid oppression is becoming more common amongst our youth in the diaspora. Hamilton, Canada - March 20, 2021.
Self portrait- Feelings of being trapped in my own body, in my anaco, in the expectations of what it means to be Kichwa, indigenous, a woman.Hamilton, Canada - March 4, 2021.
Adina Farinango shows me the flowers shes collected along her journey. According to her, these flowers inspire her drawings and the colours she taps into. Lenapehoking (New York), September 15, 2021
Pancarita Farinango is a Kichwa digital artist born in Algonquin territory (Ottawa, Ontario) to a Kichwa Mindalae family. She currently resides between Ecuador and Canada.
The infinite space in which we connect - As Kichwas in the diaspora we grow up with a nostalgia for our home territories, some we don’t even know physically: the mountains, the lakes and the land that held the ancestors we remember. By sharing in this nostalgia, as an ayllu (community), we begin building spaces where the distance between our ancestors, our homeland and each other begins to fade away. Lenapehoking (New York) May 14, 2021 -
Adina and I met at central park to create a ceremony to heal her broken heart. In this photograph Adina is being cleansed by her Mama Chumbi, asking the ancestors to aliviate her pain. Lepanehoking, September 15, 2021.
Hamilton, Canada - August 29, 2021 - 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. With the chumbi I can cleanse myself and my spirit.
Traditionally our ancestors weaved their stories into our fajas, each symbol told a story as we wear them on our waist to hold our anaco and protect our womb. Adina and Paki Farinango, met during the indigenous uprising of 2019, where they collaborated in the collective Runas in Resistance, since then they have been supporting each other as they grow as artists. In this photo Adina is helping Paki put on her faja, much like all the warmis helping each other tell our stories. Lenapehoking, September 18, 2021.
Sarayana, Nina and Cayana Amaguana are Kichwa warmis who grew up in Wisconsin. Last week the three sisters travelled to New York for the first time together. The three sisters asked Saywa Farinango to photograph them as a momento of their trip. This image is a double exposure made with one of my shawl that represents growth and protection. Image made in collaboration with Saywa Farinango. Lepanehoking, September 18, 2021.
Hamilton, Canada - March 9, 2021. Willkay means altar in Kichwa. One day I looked in the mirror and asked myself what would my world look like if I treated my body like an altar? What would my story look like if I honoured myself, my past and my journey.
Otavalo, Ecuador - June 27, 2021 - Azul - Our responsibility as Mindalaes or travelling merchants is to make sure that wherever we are our traditions never die, that we share our culture and defend it when we need to.
Ottawa, Canada. July 25, 2020. In camera double exposure of my cousins birthday in Ecuador, double exposed with my aunts kitchen table in Ottawa, Canada.
Hamilton, Canada - August 5, 2021. Ruda and the water - My grandmother told me that in order to cure all the ills that come my way, I need to shower with three stems of rue and cold water, her instructions followed my conversations with spirit and a new ceremony came my way.
Otavalo, Ecuador - December 10, 2019. Self portrait of my hands in Mojanda, Ecuador. It had been months since I had left Ecuador, the sounds of this place, the feeling of the grass under my feet and the sight of the mountains seemed like a distant memory. I returned not because I wanted to but because I needed to document the uprising. With my heart still sore, I returned to Otavalo. During the height of the uprising in 2019, the racist comments from the government alluded that indigenous peoples should stay out of the city and stay in the mountains to not disturb their lives with our protests. After being in distress for 9 days in Quito, I left for the mountains. I wanted to see if I could hear my grandfather again, I wanted to see if this land still wanted me, I wanted to see if this land missed me. I wanted to see if this land knows how much I love her.
Indigeneity is often stereotyped and romanized to be in one space and look a certain way. Saywa is 16 years old, she is a Kichwa woman who loves video games and anime. Sometimes we don’t fit, we’re not Kichwa enough for our home territory and we will never be Latinos, to resist we build our new ayllu. In Kichwa, ayllu means community beyond blood relations.
Hamilton, Canada - March 23, 2021 - Many people don’t really think about the privilege it is to have family portraits. For many folks who migrate our family memories get torn between two territories, constantly starting again with new images. I learned photography for two reasons 1) to help my mom take pictures of her crafts for the craft shows she applied to 2) to make sure my sisters know what they looked like when they were little.
Hamilton, Canada - February 13, 2021. My first memories of Canada are of the snow. As I began to explore my connection to a territory that exists in my memory the snow brought me back to my childhood self. That child who dreamt in Spanish, spoke in English and hoped in Kichwa.
Hamilton, Canada - March 4, 2021 - Puka Sisa - Red Flower. During my first virtual group therapy session I went in with all the hope in the world. I promised myself that I would live and I had to keep that promise. I sat down, shared my feelings only to later be made vulnerable by a white girl who had too much white guilt. I spoke to the therapist, pulled her aside, sent her resources on race relations, sent contacts of folks I know do that educating work, and nothing. At the end of 3 weeks of group therapy, I have to leave the space because the facilitators don’t know how to hold space for people of colour.
Hamilton, Canada - February 9, 2021. wasipi - at home. When I was 10 years old my mom and I were “new” immigrants to Canada, we faced difficulties in renting a place because we had no credit and we even had difficulties renting a movie. My mom and I always dreamt of having our own place. We looked for the ads in the newspapers for places that fit our budgets and I, at 10 years old, imagined a place where I would have a yard to sit in and contemplate the sky. I remember one day we finally got the courage to say yes to see a place, although we knew we couldn't afford it or even rent it. The combination of no credit and no papers that certified our legality in Canada, made it unlikely but not impossible for us to dream of it. Years went by, we became “legal” and my parents began to build a home for us.
Hamilton, Canada - May 4, 2021 - The dreamer. Being able to hold myself and ground myself through the teachings of my grandmother, through the land is a gift. As I struggled to stay alive I had a dream where I went to Uku Pacha, the “underground”. It was cold and damp but I belonged there. I rested, I lived in my death. When I woke up I realized it wasn't a dream but rather a vision of an image I needed to create to remind myself of how much pachamamita loves me.
Hamilton, Canada - February 21, 2021. During quarantine my mom set up an altar to remember those that passed. This year she lost her friend and her comadre due to Covid19. It was the first time I saw fear in my parents eyes, we gathered around the altar and made wawas the pan to feel safe. My sister and I went to Lake Ontario to leave carnations as an offering.
Grand River, Canada - March 20, 2021. Saywa and the wind. My family and I never liked the winter, it was too cold for us to work at festivals and it made the months go by so slowly. This year during the pandemic the lock down kept us inside longer than we were used to and the desperation to be in nature took us to the frozen hills and paths in Grand River.
Hamilton, Ontario - March 28, 2021. Saywa lights her palo santo to cleanse the space, to cleanse her energy field. Saywa is part of the generation of Kichwa youth who are born and raised in North America, and are interpreting their culture in a way that makes sense for them. The future is indigenous.
Otavalo, Ecuador - December 2, 2017 - Fire has always been used to cleanse our spaces from bad energies, to release what no longer serve us. Photograph of the burned remains of my past.
Atacames, Ecuador - February 2, 2018. Ceremonial hands. Double exposure of my hands and a candle ceremony. During sleepless nights and the desire to remember who I was before I was being abused by my partner 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 one with me. For protection.
Otavalo, Ecuador - October 7, 2017. After a traumatic return to my home community, I seeked to connect with my ancestors. My grandmother taught me about the fire, she taught me that all that I need to know lives in me and I am my own healer.
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, US - April 25, 2021 Portrait of Emily Uruchima in her parents home in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Together we created a ceremony to bless the new phase of her life. We learned that ceremonial knowledge lives in us, and as Kichwas from different territories we have more in common than we imagined.
New York, USA - April 20, 2021 - With all of my heart - I found this stone in Haudenosaunee territory where my family and I held our annual Inti Raymi celebration (celebration of the sun) by ourselves. As the pandemic raged, we found comfort in practicing our traditions. I carried this stone with me as I moved to New York City. Double exposure of the heart rock with my window in New York City.
My first memories of Canada are of the snow. As I began to explore my connection to a territory that exists in my memory the snow brought me back to my childhood self. That child who dreamt in Spanish, spoke in English and hoped in Kichwa.
Growing up I observed my community use carnations in ceremony, celebrations, and at home as offerings to the dead. As I grew up, the carnations became not only a ceremonial flower but a flower that kept me connected to my ancestors. My sister and I visit the waters in Haudenosaunee territory to give gratitude to this land for receiving us, caring for us and giving us a home to grow in.
As Kichwas in the diaspora we grow up with a nostalgia for our home territories, some we don’t even know physically: the mountains, the lakes and the land that held the ancestors we remember. By sharing in this nostalgia, as an ayllu (community), we begin building spaces where the distance between our ancestors, our homeland and each other begins to fade away.
We stand on the shoulders of our elders to break through spaces that were denied to them. Their work does not go unseen as the new generation of warmis learn to do their anaco to attend the first public exhibit of Runa Kawsay in Lenapehoking (NYC). September 18, 2021.
Traditionally our ancestors weaved their stories into our fajas, each symbol told a story as we wear them on our waist to hold our anaco and protect our womb. Adina and Paki Farinango, met during the indigenous uprising of 2019, where they collaborated in the collective Runas in Resistance, since then they have been supporting each other as they grow as artists. In this photo Adina is helping Paki put on her faja, much like all the warmis helping each other tell our stories. Lenapehoking, September 18, 2021.
Sarayana, Nina and Cayana Amaguana are Kichwa warmis who grew up in Wisconsin. Last week the three sisters travelled to New York for the first time together. The three sisters asked Saywa Farinango to photograpph them as a momento of their trip. This image is a double exposure made with one of my shawl that represents growth and protection. Image made in collaboration with Saywa Farinango. Lepanehoking, September 18, 2021.