To Lima, Peru

Feb. 24, 2006-Puno to Lima
(Photos:Fertility temple,
Burial towers,
Ornery alpaca)

Charo filled us in on the history of how the reed islands came to be. The Incas became master architects by learning from civilizations that came before them. They didn’t destroy the people they conquered but improved on their culture. The Uros were a small group of nomadic people who settled down and became farmers. When the Incas took over the territory and demanded taxes the Uros who had built reed islands for fishing and who were too poor to pay taxes moved to the islands permanently. The Incas decided to ignore them thinking they’d never survive. The Ayamara people tried to escape the rule of the Incas as well and sought shelter with the Uros. Today the reed islanders are mostly Ayamara.

Fertility to Necropilis

As we left our hotel we noticed they were still roofing it. Most buildings are partially built to save on taxes. We were quite the conglomeration of walking wounded. We set up sickbay in the back of the bus for Ron who had the worst of the tourista. David managed to sleep the night without incident and it had run its course. The altitude was getting to us all and only half the group went on the walk to see the Temple of Fertility. It was next door to the Catholic Church. The Church has made peace with the mixing of the Indian and Catholic religions but Evangelicals and Mormons will not put up with it. I wasn’t among the walkers. If I woke up in the middle of the night and went to the bathroom I became aware of rapid breathing and had to slow it down. Tai Chi belly breathing was the key. That said, I found it hard to fall back asleep. Fortunately, I can sleep anywhere so I power-napped on the bus. . Do not panic. David went so we have several pictures of phalluses.

We went from phalluses to a necropolis in the blink of an eye. Sillustani is a hilltop (of course) array of funeral towers. It’s remote, surrounded on three sides by water, embraced by green hills, and so quiet that the only sound is the wind. By a hilltop I mean 13,120 feet elevation. We walked up slowly, sat on walls while Charo lectured, slogged along again, sucked air, and on and on.

The Burial Temple began in 400 BCE when the dead were beheaded. Their heads were buried in the temple and their bodies buried separately. In 600 CE the Tiwanaku people absorbed the territory. In 1100 CE a fateful drought weakened and divided the previously united nations. The Colla people appeared on the scene and were even better architects than the Incas. Incas later took over, appropriated Colla engineers, and used them to build in Cusco. Collas believed that a person could become a god. Sound like any other religions? When one dies the spirit goes to live in an afterlife. They also didn’t cremate nor did they bury underground. They built honeycomb funeral mounds that eventually evolved into the burial towers.

When the Incas arrived they morphed the shape of the tower so it resembled the chalice depicted on the monoliths I’ve described. They were narrower on the bottom than the top. Towers were bigger than their houses since the afterlife was considered to be more important than the here and now. Only rich Incas were buried in the towers while the Collas were more democratic. But being a wealthy Incan matron or servant was no great honor. They begged to join the master in the afterlife and were obliged. Their mouths were stuffed with coca powder of the cocaine-making variety, someone held their nose, someone else held their arms, and when in desperation they took a breath, their lungs filled with the powder and they suffocated.

Waca-waca-do

A Waca is a large vertical stone marking the site where human offerings were made. Collas offered handicapped girls who they thought would get to live as perfect specimens in the afterlife. Incas chose perfect female children and isolated them in convent-like facilities where they were trained and brainwashed. Between ages 9-16 they were “chosen.” The three days preceding their sacrifice they fasted; they walked the mile to the temple where they were given beer and cocaine. The priest hit them to see if they were stoned enough and then he hit their head or neck with a hard stone to create an aneurysm. When they were dead their blood was drained into the soil at the foot of the Waca. Hope you’re not getting ready for dinner now.

Round towers indicated people who worked around animals and square ones were for those who worked the land. Spiral ramps were used to lift the stones to the top as the tower grew. The building blocks were of differing sizes and offset to prevent collapse in case of an earthquake. The bodies of the deceased man, family, and servants encircled the structure and were hoisted into the opening on top by ropes. Provisions were secured and the capstone was set. A small hole was left at the base and after several weeks the bodies were removed and put outside to mummify. When the Spanish came they destroyed the burial towers.

Locals

When we returned to the bus there was a baby alpaca waiting for us to have our photo taken with it. Its mother had rejected it and villagers were hand-raising it. After a few encounters of the spitting kind we all sided with mama.

We shuffled onto the bus past the obligatory stands of handicrafts and were relieved that our next stop was with a local family. No pressure there. They were very welcoming and I managed to dance around them and avoid shaking hands this time. The most interesting item was their version of a playpen. When they work in the fields they cannot keep an eye on a baby so they dig a large wide hole in the ground depending on the size of the child, put a toy in it, surround it by rocks, and voila, a playpen.

One of the oldest sons in the family had just finished high school, which was quite an achievement. He wants to be a tour guide and that entails five-years of college. We figured that it would cost $2000 for tuition, room, and board for all five years. That worked out to $125/person in our group. We would never miss it. One man is thinking of trying to find a way to pay the whole thing himself. He’s not naïve and has tried this before in other countries without success. He needs to find a way to legally transfer funds through a legitimate organization. Handing the man the money may be against the law.

We departed for Lima from the airport in Juliaca. The city is a real dump and the airport is not much better. I sat at the airport near a man from Colorado who had lived in Bolivia and Peru eleven years. His last job was working for a Danish organization building bathrooms for indigenous people. He plans to go to Colorado for a visit and then to Argentina. He said that the people in South America ask him how Americans have so much money. He tells them that we work hard, save, and plan for the future. Our guides both told us that the people here don’t work long hours and would rather have fun than save.

We landed briefly at Ariquipa, the White City, and an arid desolate looking town. It was a good thing we were running early. The man who sat next to me on the plane explained what was going on as security officers came and went. One man was questioned because he had taken a picture of the plane when they told him not to. Another man had a parcel thrown down to him from a balcony after he cleared security. They both satisfied the agents and we actually took off on time.


Oxygen High

Eric, our new guide, met us at the airport in Lima, the City of the Gods. He was born in the jungle and will be our guide here as well as our naturalist in the Amazon. To be a naturalist requires two-years post grad education. He barely had a chance to explain that Lima hardly ever gets rain and that all the flowers in the Miraflores district where our hotel is are watered with water from the rivers. We were giddy and high on the oxygen we were inhaling by the lungful. We were amazed at how we could carry our small bags up and down steps with ease. We cracked up when they loaded our luggage onto the mini-bus through a window. We giggled and joked around like teen-agers. He finally gave up and joined in when we demonstrated how Charo had trained us to count off in Spanish for our head-count.

We marked the day by celebrating the end of taking diamox for altitude and the start of malarone for malaria protection.

Toby