On the bus, leaving Cusco on a tour van. In the hills outside the city center, going up and up. Clay brick houses with corrugated tin roofs, cheaply made. Pigs, dogs, donkeys, and cats wandering the hillsides, scavenging for food close by their owners’ houses. The further away from the town center, the more traditional Peruvian garb I see. Brightly-colored wraps, hats, the black criss-cross sandals. The hills are a beautiful shade of green with a red-brown clay color of soil beneath and peaking out.
Arrived in a women’s weaving colony where we were shown how the Peruvian brightly colored textiles are made by women who wear the traditional outfit: big full knee-length skirt in a dark color, white blouse, red woven jacket, hat with flowers or a woven band.
To create the intricate and fine textiles, first, the hair from the llama or alpaca is cut away from the hide using a piece of broken glass. Then, three red-clay ceramic bowls with Peruvian decorations are laid out, each filled with water. Next, a root plant is grated into one of the bowls of water. This root plant, when grated, creates a foamy, soapy water, and it is indeed soap. The root is also used by Peruvians to wash their hair and to prevent grey hair. The puffs of animal hair are washed in the soapy water, rinsed in the second bowl of water and rinsed again in the third bowl of water. It’s amazing the before and after difference – from grey brown to wooly white. Once the wool is hung and dried, the wool is dyed different colors using flowers, mosses, bugs, leaves, salt, lemon juice, and other natural ingredients. The dye is cooked in clay pots filled with hot, hot water being heated over open fires in an open, outdoor kitchen. The colors are beautiful and earthy. The look like they come from nature with their richness and depth: oranges, rusts, purples, violets, blues, deep reds and burgundies, willow green, yellow green and so many other colors and shades. Some of these dyes are also used as make-up for the women, who say that even with kissing and hugging, the make-up stays put.
Once the wool is dyed and dries, a woman holds a bundle of wool in one hand and in the other, she holds a spindle. She pulls at the wool to make a thin thread and spins the spindle with her other hand and the thread gathers around the spindle to make a spool of wool thread.
This spool is then wound into a ball and the balls of beautifully colored wool yarn are then used in a hand loom where women create designs that are symbols that tell the stories of their culture… of the people, the land and nature, the gods, the animals.
The friendly women and girls served us fried corn cakes and boiled potatoes with an herb sauce, and then we departed.
Back on the van toward our next destination. The Peruvian countryside is filled with farmland, open country, and the Andes. It’s spectacular, majestic, wide, and peaceful. People herd their sheep and work the land to grow potatoes, beans, corn, and grains like barley, wheat, and quinoa. Fields of yellow flowers and violet flowers stretch into the distance. I know this is a hard life, but it seems romantic to me in that it’s a life that’s lived close to, and in harmony with, the earth.
Part of the journey is on a one-lane, narrow mountain dirt road. On one side, the mountain, on the other, a sheer drop of about 100 feet. Several times, tight corners suddenly reveal another vehicle. Both vehicles hit a quick stop, sending dirt and rocks flying off the side of the cliff and into the gully far beneath. I don’t know who has the right of way, but it seems like it’s the vehicle that holds out moving the longest. The other vehicle then has to back up indefinitely until there’s just enough space for both vehicles to squeak past one another – just by inches (or an inch).
We arrive at the next destination, Maras Moray. This pre-Inca ruin is constructed of many stepped terraces that form a beautiful circular design. It’s estimated it was constructed sometime in the 1400s. First there is Uyak Muyu (deep circle) that has the lowest altitude, then Huchuy Muyu (up circle) which is at a mid-level altitude, and finally Unyar Muyu (small circle), which has the highest altitude. Scholars have two theories as to the use of these stepped circles. One is that they were used for performance and ritual, like an amphitheater. Another theory (and this seems to be the more adopted of the two) is that these were built to experiment with crops. Which crops grew best at which altitudes? These stepped circles each had microclimates that would have been ideal to experiment to determine which crops grew best at which altitudes. Very useful for a society that relied on a very mountainous landscape to feed and provide for itself.
Though Catholicism had a foothold in current Peruvian society (and still is very strong), the indigenous Andean people who rely on the land to provide for them have, in the last 50 years or so, reverted back to their earth-based spiritual practices. A guide on another trip told me that this simply made the most sense for these people now since relying on the earth is just how they lived. That makes perfect sense to me.
At this point, Maras Moray is now used, not only as a tourist destination, but also for indigenous spiritual practices such as ayahuasca ceremonies.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and I sat in the middle of the largest of the ruins and grasped for some feeling of peace or energy. All I felt was the beauty of this place all around me, the sun, the crisp wind. That, to me, *is* spiritual practice. Just being present with everything. So I guess it worked for me.
On the van again and to the next destination: the Salt Mines. Doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it? But it was fascinating. We approached the salt mines on the road – they covered the whole hillside. Little plots, thousands of them, all of different shades of white. Tiny figures, like ants, moving around and through the plots.
A spring producing salty water was the impetus for the salt mines, which were created and worked by the Incas. Once the Spanish conquered and took over, they of course took over the salt mines and enslaved the natives, forcing them to work the mines. Once the Spanish vacated, the descendents of the Incas, the Maras people, reclaimed the mines. Now, these people are the only ones who are allowed to own these mines. There are three thousand of them over all, and each plot is owned by one person. Certain steps with several or many plots are owned by whole families, so the father owns one, the son, the grandson, the nephew, the uncle, etc. These plots are handed down from family member to family member, as well, so that when one family member dies, the plot then is willed to another family member, ensuring it all stays within the family circle.
Seeing the mines from the road was strangely beautiful, and seeing them up close was fascinating. The way that the people have created an intricate irrigation system that siphons the salt water from the springs throughout each of the roughly four by four foot plots – literally over 3000 of them. As we watched, people were finishing their work for the day, climbing the terraces with buckets, pick axes, and other hand-held tools. To think, all the labor maintaining and “farming” these plots is manual, with no automation or machinery of any kind. Incredible, really.
During our time here at the mines, there was a ceremony giving thanks to the spirits of the springs. Three village elders led the small parade, followed by a man with a bass drum, a teen playing a carved flute and a man with a snare drum. Another teen held a garland of crimson flowers mounted on a staff. They played and marched through the village and ended at the source of the main salt spring where they spoke a ritual and placed the garlands in the spring. It was quite picturesque and a bit somber.
On our way out, our guide chatted with a few of his friends who had salt plots. They poured him some home-made Peruvian beer, called chicha, which he showed me and another woman how to drink. First, you get your cup of chicha, then you pour a small amount on the ground, which is an offering to Pachamama, the mother earth, then you can drink. The beer is made out of fermented corn and is very popular with the local folks. It has a one-day shelf life so that, when someone brews a batch, they put a red flag outside their home or establishment that lets passers-by know that they have chicha to sell. Genuis.
After the salt mines, home to my hostel, a walk around beautiful Cusco, diner, my book, and bed.
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