El Valle Sagrado y Tipon

At four this afternoon I fly out to Iquitos, so here is a rapid-fire post of my most recent adventures.  We will actually get to spend some time with an indigenous community: the Yarina in my case.  Then we will spend a couple more days in Iquitos and Lima.

This past Saturday was heavenly.  We were eight students, one knowledgeable guide, and one driver in a private van gallivanting about the Valle Sagrado.  The group of students had a nice dynamic that certainly enhanced the experience.

We began in Chincheros and saw the local weavers doing their spinning, dyeing, and looming.  The local Apus (sacred mountain peaks) blessed us with fabulous weather.  From Chincheros we proceeded to the Salineras salt mines of the small town of Maras.  Salt lagoons decorated the sodium rich valley and it looked like snow.  We were also offered the alcoholic form of chicha Peru's maize beer and most of us enjoyed it.

We then proceeded to the Moray ruins for my second time.  Our guide’s crowbar-like tongue got me into the ruins even though my boleto turistico was already used at Moray.  One of the girls in the group led us in a fifteen-minute yoga session at the bottom of the concentric terraces.  To top it off, we got to savor the sight of an Andean caracara rebuffing the high-altitude winds.

The bus smelt of palta [avocado] as we packed down deeper into the Valley past Urubamba and into Ollantaytambo.  We climbed the Ollantaytambo ruins with gusto, as they had tempted us so on the various trips past them before.  We fed off each other's excitement.  Our guide did the ruins justice and the elements did them better.  The Incas built Ollantaytambo at the confluence of the Urubamba and a tributary.  This forms a marvelous gale throughout the site.

Ultimately, we made the ascent to the Pisac ruins!  We jumped out of the bus and fell tripping up the mountain to one of the peaks above the ruins.  Eric and I were consuming the stairs, ledges, and slopes while singing at each other in something like Swahili.  We rested at the apex of a ridge overlooking the ruins, the city of Pisac, and the Urubamba River.  Only our group of eight was in the park.  The wind and cold began to whip as the sun set over the next mountain, so Eric and I started into the labyrinth of ruins and got lost for a while.  A few jumps through un-thatched roofs saw us out.

Sunday morning I made a solo mission to the ruins of Tipon.  They are about 35 minutes from Cuzco situated high upon the eastern ridge of the Valle Cusqueño.  Masterful irrigation, baths, and fountains abound--many of them continue flowing.  Leaving the park was spectacular because I stomped most of the way down a path descending the mountain toward the town of Tipon.  I was raised from my balmy siesta in a shady oasis of eucalyptus by a van on the nearby road.  I asked the three ladies for a lift.  These amiable, musician-cinematographer-vegetarian ladies took me past the city of Tipon all the way to the entrance of my neighborhood.

Cuzco has been a blast so far and navigating the city is getting progressively easier!  Now it’s time to finish packing for Iquitos.  Ciao!

Ruins Near Cuzco and a Mission to Moray

So I have been a bit slow getting this post up here, but here it is.

The first two weeks of classes went very well.  In the mornings we have language classes and in the afternoon it’s lectures on culture, archaeology, architecture, and eco-cultural connections as well as guidance for our independent study projects.  Last week I had a meeting with our advisor and my project is now rolling.  I plan to study the possible connection of the jungle city of Iquitos to the rest of the country by highway. Iquitos is so far only accessible by air or boat.

Saturday the 10th was our group mission to the ruins nearest to Cuzco.  We packed into a bus with our tourist tickets and wound our way up to the top of the city.  First we went to Tambomachay, a series of fountains flowing with spring-water.  The Incas worshipped water there.  From there we walked across the street to Puka Pukara: a hill-top fortress.  That was my first time there and it has a very majestic feeling because of its hill-top position and view of Cuzco below.  It is a very different proposition tramping ruins, feeling rock faces, and absorbing atmospheres in a group of thirty people.  From Puka Pukara we descended the hill a couple kilometers down to the small and cut-in-unmoved-stone Q’enko ruins.  In the caves underneath, we rested on the sacrificial altars.

The expanse of our next stop Saqsayhuaman allowed for solitude and thought.  Despite our administrator’s efforts and massive archaeological wisdom, she could not keep our group together to give us a tour.  This meant we could wander off to the perimeter of the ruins, chew our cud, and absorb the experience.

At the end of this day of ruins we attended a ceremony for the moon and the earth, Killa and Pachamama.  Even with the presence of our pack of camera-bearing brutes, the ceremony was well carried out and very enjoyable.  I brought palo santo and eucalyptus leaves for my offering and we interred the sacred mound.  One must “pagar la tierra.”  Pay the land for what it gives us.

I got up early Sunday morning and decided to strike out alone by bus and foot in the Valle Sagrado and about the surrounding peaks.  The kombis to Pisac from Cuzco are 5 soles and great fun.  I did not climb the Pisac ruins this time but they will be in my next post.

After relaxing there I took a bus to Chincheros and connected to the minute town called Maras.  On one of the mountains near where we stayed in Urubamba are the Inca ruins of Moray: striking, circular, agricultural terraces.  In Maras the taxistas run a luscious cartel.  Tourists get off the bus and need a ride for the 12 kilometers to the Moray ruins.  30 soles round trip for gringos.  6 soles for locals.  Taxista shenanigans notwithstanding, my taxista Roger (Ro-yer) spoke lots of Spanish to me and jibed me in Quechua.  The Moray ruins are very tranquil in comparison with the other ruins that are less obscure/difficult to find.  The tactility of the sky, the snowy peaks (sacred apus), and the mountain-pass silence struck me most on the mission to Moray.

Urubamba, Machu Picchu, and Arrival in Cuzco

When I landed in Cuzco and stomped out into the brisk 11,000 ft-high air, the program coordinators were calling out to me by name.  From the airport we shot directly off to Urubamba city in the Sacred Valley for a couple days of orientation.  That drive is spectacular: out of Cuzco, along the mountain pass, and down into the Sacred Valley.  The view and the altitude of the high Andean plains are breathtaking.  When we got to the hotel of dainty cottages and flowers, the rest of the students were waiting for us to begin lunch.  Too many names and introductions ensued.

Much of our time in the small town of Urubamba was spent in an orientation presentation or at the table.  We had some great ceviche down on the town’s miniscule main drag.  One day we were commissioned to survey the Andean cereals in the nearby town of Ollantaytambo.  After pestering the helpful ladies in the market with questions about cultivation and preparation of these cereals, we went for a saunter about the town.  We did not have time to enter the Ollantaytambo ruins that day, but we did steal in the side entrance and shoot a couple pictures.

And what of Machu Picchu?  If we count the time when I was three months old, I have just visited it for the third time.  The group anticipation of the adventure was great fun.  Upon arrival we took a guided tour of the ruins.  Our guide Esmeralda was great fun and she agreed to speak Spanish to us.  Then the wind and rain began.  When we finished the tour, some of the SIT students left Machu Picchu for the warmth of the Aguas Calientes hot springs at the bottom of the mountain.

About fifteen of us remained in the park for another 1.5 hours.  We shot up to the top where the stereotypical MP pictures are taken from.  The clouds were rolling in and out the ruins with dramatic speed.  From there we headed over to the trail to the Inka Bridge from which you can see and hear the Urubamba River roar down toward its Amazonian fate.  Soon thereafter the rain ceased and we had a ball with the llamas placed in the park for gringo enjoyment.  I am a gringo and I got enjoyment from them.  Also, if I were a llama, I imagine I would prefer the green terraces of Machu Picchu to the various other alternatives.  Besides the llamas, we actually had the company of a couple meaty lizards and a chinchilla.  Roughly twenty minutes before our bus back down to Aguas Calientes, the sun emerged.  That offered a sweet bite of low-angle sunlight for our final thoughts and pictures.

The train back to Ollantaytambo featured a clown-demon dancing with some of the female passengers, a fashion show for alpaca clothing, and a bit of salsa dancing.  Before this excitement we had all planned to flop into our seats and crash to sleep!  Overall it was a fantabulous mission.

Two days ago we arrived in Cuzco and met our host families.  Señora Carola Yabar Morales picked me up and we went back to the house for a welcome lunch.  The house, my room, and most importantly my family are all I could hope for.  Abuela Tula and my three host brothers (all in their thirties and two with families) make a cheerful family atmosphere.  My room is on the top of the building where I share a bathroom with one of the sons.  The nearby montañas cusqueñas stand stalwartly during the day and wink with lights at night.

Yesterday was my first day of class and—after written and oral exams—I was placed in the Spanish class I was hoping for.  My teacher is a lively fellow named Gustavo.  Our other studies will begin ramping up soon.  So far so good for I seem to have escaped being knocked flat by soroche: altitude sickness.

Last night in a café in the Plaza de Armas we watched Peru tie Bolivia in a soccer match.  Afterward, we received some tips on salsa dancing from the host brother of one of the girls in the program.  It will cost me much time and dignity to learn, but I’m game.