For decades Tungurahua had slept—its last eruption dated back to 1925. That silence ended on 15 October 1999. Explosions shook the valley, ash clouds turned day into dusk, and the smell of sulfur filled the air. Authorities ordered the immediate evacuation of Baños. Experts warned the town could disappear beneath fire and mud. Fear spread quickly. Families left homes, shops, and fields behind. Streets became ghostly, coated in gray.
What many recall today as distant rumbles and dark skies was then raw terror. Yet the story did not end in exile. On 5 January 2000, after nearly three months away, residents returned. They broke through military checkpoints and repopulated their town while the volcano still smoked above them. That date became a symbol of resilience: the day Baños refused to vanish.
From 2000 to 2005, Tungurahua’s activity was restless but moderate. Ash fell often, tremors rattled windows, and fields wore a constant veil of gray. Life adjusted—children went to school carrying emergency backpacks with masks inside, roofs were swept whenever ash fell—sometimes daily—and prayers rose each night. The volcano was never silent, but neither was the determination of its people.
In July and August 2006, Tungurahua erupted with violence unseen in decades. Two massive explosions launched ash columns kilometers high and sent pyroclastic flows racing down the slopes. Night turned crimson as rivers of fire lit the valley. In nearby zones, the air grew scorching, the ground so hot it melted shoe soles, and boulders a meter wide rolled like burning giants.
In Baños, shockwaves shattered glass. Volcanic rocks up to fell onto roofs and streets, while heavy ash buried fields and choked pastures. Farmers lost harvests and livestock, entire livelihoods erased overnight. Yet amid the fear, people gathered in —highlands where they could watch the spectacle. Flames shot skyward, lava cascaded down slopes, and the town below glowed in awe and dread.
After 2006, activity eased but never vanished. Between 2010 and 2016, pulses of ash and explosions reminded Baños that the giant was still alive. The last eruption came in February 2016, lasting . Ash columns rose up to 8 km, rumbling echoed for miles, and the cycle that began in 1999 finally closed.
In 2018, after two years of silence, Tungurahua was reclassified from “erupting” to simply “active.” Today, seismic activity is low, gas emissions absent, and the volcano appears calm.
For Baños, the memory endures. Living under Tungurahua meant nights lit by fire, days of ash and fear, and the strength to rebuild again and again. It forged a resilience that defines the town even now, with the volcano’s shadow ever-present on the horizon.
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