Day 1 — A Stroll in Cusco

Friday — April 3

The damp clothes I set out earlier to dry have been put away. We had planned to dine at El Patio, the onsite restaurant at Los Apus, but we’re simply too tired to do food justice. I’m snacking on some crackers as I write this blog entry, trying to stay awake until 9:00p to get my body in sych with local time. Not that there should be any jet lag — Perú is in the same time zone as Washington DC; except that Daylight Saving Time is not recognized here.

Having last eaten a small snack on the Lima-Cusco flight, we were starving by the time we were ready to set out for our stroll around Cusco. Thus, the first item of business when Vidal came to pick us up was to get a bite to eat in order to recharge our fast-waning energy.

Leading us to Siete Culebras (seven snakes), a narrow alley just down the street from Los Apus, Vidal took a shortcut to the Plaza de las Nazarenas. Oh boy — the walk up the alley was short, but the slight uphill grade quickly left us breathless, reminding us of the necessity to slow our pace while at altitude.

Siete Culebras is named for the nearby House of the Serpents. The structure is what is known as transitional architecture. That is, it was built by Inca masons working for the Spanish conquistadors. The masons carved reliefs of snakes, considered symbols of wisdom in Inca mythology, into the Inca wall that forms the base of the house. We took a few moments to search out and find the reliefs before turning our attention to a nearby church that was a later addition to the Seminary of San Antonio Abad (built in the late 1590s). Any other time, we would have stayed longer to explore the church and get acquainted with the llamas that were seemingly guarding the entrance to Siete Culebras, but something more important was distracting us — namely, lunch.

Can you find the seven snakes of Siete Culebras?

Going down a steep, narrow, cobblestone street that anywhere else in the world would be pedestrian-only, but which we shared with vehicles, we made our way to what used to be called Wacaypata (Weeping Square, supposedly so named for the grieving that was done here when the ruling Inca died). Today it is the hub-bub of activity known as Plaza de Armas. Vehicles zooming by at a dizzying speed; locals and tourists crowding the stores, visiting the great stone edifice that is the Cathedral, sitting on the benches in the park; vendors hawking their wares — Welcome to Cusco!

Expertly, Vidal guided us to Yaku Mama's Grill, one of the many eateries rimming the controlled-chaos that is Plaza de Armas. Seated at a small table on the narrow balcony overlooking the plaza, we ordered a simple, yet tasty meal of sandwiches as we weren’t feeling adventurous enough to try Peruvian fare yet. In no time, what should have been a 15-minute lunch stretched to an hour as we feasted our eyes on the imposing Cathedral and the Iglesia de la Compañia (Church of the Company — a Jesuit church built over the ruins of Amarucancha, the palace of Wayna Capac, the last Inca to preside over a united empire.)

View of Plaza de Armas from our table on the balcony of Yaku Mama's Grill.

(Taking handheld photos for a stitch is not easy; forgive me for messing this one up. Nonetheless, it gives you an idea of what Plaza de Armas looks like. The building in the center is the Cathedral; the building at the right edge is the Jesuit church.)

As interesting as the magnificent edifices were, though, what really captured our attention was all the people in the plaza — street cleaners sweeping away trash; ice cream vendors doling out sweet treats; businessmen hurrying across the traffic-laden streets, briefcases securely clutched in their hands; mothers with their kids bundled on their backs; school children in colorful uniforms skipping around the park, delaying that moment when they have to go home and do homework; people sitting on benches, resting for a bit before resuming their walk towards unknown destinations; locals walking their dogs; women and girls in colorful costumes, baby llamas cradled in their arms, crying out “un photo, un sol.” And so much more!

Street scene — Plaza de Armas.

We could have stayed on the balcony at Yaku Mama’s for the rest of the day, but we had things to do, not the least of which was exchanging some dollars for nuevo soles, the Peruvian currency. Leading us down Calle Loreto (which took longer than one might expect because we frequently stopped to admire the incredible workmanship of the Inca walls on either side of us), Vidal took us to a reputable cambio. It felt odd to be exchanging money in what looked to be a camera shop, but as we later saw, this was not all that unusual — cambios seem to be located in just about any type of establishment.

Seeing as we were not far from the Qoricancha (aka Korikancha), we headed in that direction next. As it was nearing closing time, however, Vidal suggested that we enjoy the site from outside so as not to waste our ticket on a quick visit. We did not oppose this recommendation. From the front garden, we admired the imposing sight of the Church and Convent of Santo Domingo that sits over the ruins of the Qoricancha, the Court of Gold — one of the most important temples of the Inca empire. Dating back to around 1200 AD, the temple was also the principal astronomical observatory of the empire.

It is said that the walls of the Qoricancha, which was dedicated to sun worship, were sheathed in gold and silver that was removed to pay the ransom the Spanish demanded for the release of Inca Atahualpa. It seems that the golden disc of the sun, the holiest of the religious symbols of the empire, survived the initial looters, but eventually that too disappeared. Some historians believe that it was taken away and hidden before the main party of Spaniards arrived in the 1530s, but this is all conjecture. There has been no sign of the disc to this day.

The Church and Convent were consecrated in 1633. However, Santo Domingo was heavily damaged in the earthquake of 1650, making it impossible to inhabit. Interestingly, the Inca walls upon which the buildings were constructed suffered no damage from the quake. The current buildings are the result of the 1680 reconstruction efforts.

Just as I clicked the camera shutter one last time, the heavens opened up in a deluge. We’d been watching the storm clouds gathering, providing a dramatic backdrop to the brilliant white walls of the convent, and had hoped to escape unscathed, but Pachamama (Mother Earth in Inca mythology) had other plans. Putting away the cameras, we walked back to our hotel, unfazed by the liquid sunshine pouring down on us. We’d had an excellent afternoon and a little rain wasn’t going to deflate our spirits.

The Convent of Santo Domingo sits atop the ruins of the Qoricancha.

Tomorrow, Vidal will be picking us up at 7:30a to take us to some of the sites on the outskirts of Cusco. Time to put the Boleto Turistico to work. (The tourist ticket provides admittance to many of the sites in and around Cusco.) Until then …

Next Up: Day 2 — Tambomachay

Day 2 — Tambomachay

Saturday — April 4

Amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. We were up at 5:30a, raring to go, and out the door by 7:30a, but not before having a light breakfast in the enclosed roof terrace at Los Apus.

Los Apus — early breakfast is served in the enclosed roof terrace.

We had a very full day with no adverse effects from being at altitude except for a little breathlessness that evidenced itself when we were going up steps or walking uphill. Slowing our pace did the trick and we were able to enjoy exploring and hiking through the countryside. If we are symptom-free tomorrow, we’re going to stop taking the Diamox and drinking the coca tea.

Today’s itinerary called for visits to multiple sites on the outskirts of Cusco. Knowing that the tour busses would not be far behind, Vidal took us to the farthest site and we worked back from there.

Our first stop was at Tambomachay, located at 12,400 ft (~3,765 m) above sea level — our highest point to date on this trip.

The Inca culture worshipped all aspects of nature — the sun, the moon, the mountains, the water … to name a few. They built temples dedicated to the worship of natural elements. Tambomachay was a water temple, often referred to as "Baño del Inca" (the Inca’s Bath) and was used for ritual bathing. Some Peruvian historians claim that the place was used by Inca Tupac Yupanqui as a hunting lodge.

The temple was partially destroyed during the colonial period. The fact that the spring that feeds the three fountains today flows unaltered from the way it did during Inca times makes this temple one of the best preserved of its kind. Incorporated into one of the finely honed and shaped walls is a giant boulder left in situ. The spring that feeds the fountain follows a path beneath this rock before it reaches the surface. For a culture that worshipped nature, to have water seemingly born from a rock would have been ample reason to choose this particular site for the building of Tambomachay.

Tambomachay was a temple dedicated to the worship of water.

Numerology plays an important role in the Inca culture. The two niches on the right are sort of a like the yin and yang, representing a pair; a male and a female. The four windows at the top represent the four kingdoms that formed the Inca empire. In fact, the empire was known as Tawanintisuyu, the four kingdoms of the sun (Tawan=four; inti=sun; suyu=kingdom). (Some translate Tawanintisuyu as the "Four Quarters of the Earth".) As Vidal explained, many of the Quechua names are literal words that describe places. Tambomachay, for example, can be translated as “Storage Rock” (tambo=storage; machay=rock). A reference to the rock stored in the wall? Or a reference to the water (in the form of the spring) stored in the rock? Or maybe both??

As impressive as the whole site was, I was especially struck by the craftsmanship of the walls of the temple. More specifically, I was impressed by the walls where the Inca masons turned a corner by shaping rocks to form a seamless curve rather than abutting two rocks together and taking the easy way out. Such craftsmanship, Vidal told us, is another indication that Tambomachay was a place of importance and that its use was probably restricted to the Inca nobility.

Seamless corners — a hallmark of Inca craftsmanship.

Next Up: Day 2 — Hiking in the Countryside

Day 2 — Hiking in the Countryside

Saturday — April 4

As busloads of tourists started pulling into Tambomachay, we headed across the road to Puca Pucara. The name of the site is translated as “Red Fortress.” It was long-assumed that Puca Pucara was built to defend the road leading into the Sacred Valley, but later studies have indicated that it was never a defensive stronghold. One school of thought says that it was a roadhouse where travelers were lodged and goods, animals, and the like were temporarily stored. Another theory, based on the writings of a Spanish chronicler, is that it was Puca Pucara and not Tambomachay that was the hunting lodge of the Inca Tupac Yupanqui. Since no dwellings were found at Tambomachay, this could well be the case. It could also be that back in those days, Tambomachay and Puca Pucara were part of the same settlement with the former being the religious sector and the latter forming the urban sector.

Puca Pucara — likely a wayside inn that provided lodging to travelers.

We did not spend much time at Puca Pucara. Not only was there little to see, but we were also anxious to start our hike to Qenqo — the first real test of our activity capabilities at altitude. It turns out that we did quite well. We took twice as long as the average person might, but that was due mostly to our penchant for wanting to capture images of just about anything that caught our eye, including a young girl shepherding her llamas from the grazing field back to the barn.

A young girl and her llamas.

The weather was perfect for our hike — warm enough to shed layers along the way, but with a nice breeze to keep us from becoming overheated. The best part of the hike — we had the trail virtually to ourselves. We encountered a few small groups that quickly left us eating their dust. Well, not really; it’s just that they were hiking at a much faster pace. That’s OK; we weren’t in a race.

The scenery was wonderful — verdant, rolling hills and valleys; pigs wallowing in mud, sheep grazing in the fields, burros calling out as we passed by; colorful flowers hosting butterflies and bumblebees; brilliant, blue-green hummingbirds gathering nectar; farmers tilling their land; young men collecting good soil for resale in markets; and a surprise find — a not-yet-announced excavation of an ancient site.

A yet-to-be-announced archeological find is one of the surprises on our hike.

We respected the place being an active excavation site and enjoyed it from a distance. I was especially intrigued by the face seemingly carved into the big rock ... perhaps a rendering of Viracocha (creator of all things and god of the sun and storms)? Or maybe it was just my active imagination. The site has not been given a name as yet and there's very little information about it that has been made public. When it is announced to the world, we'll be able to say, "Oh yeah; we know all about that place."

Next we came to Salumpuncu (aka Lajo or simply, the Temple of the Moon). As we approached the site, Vidal noted that the locals still come to this temple to make offerings — crops, coca leaves, sea shells, and the like. He pointed out small caves with obvious soot and ash residue from the burning of such offerings. Vidal also explained that the offerings tend to be made at night, which would be in keeping with the site being a place to worship the moon. In reality, however, the locals go at night for a more practical reason — so that they are not disturbed by the tourists who visit during the day.

Salumpuncu — Temple of the Moon.

When we reached the temple, we went into one of the caves where mummies would have been placed. Once our eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave, we were able to see the niche in which the mummy would have been put along with some personal belongings and the altar that was carved out of a rock in situ. I’ve read that on the full moon closest to the winter solstice, this altar is bathed by moonlight, which comes in through a fissure in the ceiling of the cave. On the way out, Vidal pointed out carved representations of a snake, puma, and condor — important elements of the Inca trilogy. The snake represented wisdom, the puma represented strength and power, and the condor represented freedom.

You have to use your imagination, but here’s a snake carved in relief on the wall leading to the entrance of the mummy cave.

From the Temple of the Moon, we continued to the last stop of our hike, Qenqo. As we made our way down to the site, we found puppets hanging from the trees. Vidal explained that these were effigies known as compadres and comadres, put up by young boys and girls during a fiesta in February. The way I understood it, the boys string up female puppets and the girls string up male puppets. Each then try to bring down the puppets of their own gender by sneaking around under the cover of darkness.

A compadre and a comadre swinging companionably in the tree.

Qenqo was a waca (shrine) dedicated to the worship of Pachamama. The name of the site means zig-zag or labyrinth, and is derived from the zig-zag channels that served as paths for the chicha or sacrificial llama blood used in ceremonies. I read on one website that the trail resulting from the chicha or blood would then be interpreted by priests — Inca-style fortune telling perhaps!

This waca is considered to be one of the best examples of something the Incas did really well — carving rocks in situ. In this case, they created an entire temple structure out of a single rock. The limestone rock that stands in the center of an amphitheater-like area has been eroded by time, but it used to cast a shadow that looked like a puma. Not realizing that the puma here was a shadow, the Spaniards apparently spent a considerable amount of time looking for the real thing. The caves scattered around the temple were used to store the mummies of priests and nobility. These mummies would be taken out and placed on altars around the site on days of religious importance.

Some say that this rock at Qenqo represents a sitting puma; others claim that it was a phallic symbol.

I don’t think we did Qenqo the justice it deserves. We certainly did not take the time to explore it's labyrinthine layout. Blame it on the hike; we were a little tired and as it was well past 1:00p, we were more than a little hungry. After taking a quick peek inside one of the mummy caves, we headed back to Cusco.

Next Up: Day 2 — An Afternoon in Cusco

Day 2 — An Afternoon in Cusco

Saturday — April 4

Back in Cusco, Vidal took us to A Mi Manera (My Way — just like the Frank Sinatra song). A family-operated restaurant located on the second floor of a courtyard on Calle Triunfo, just off Plaza de Armas, it was the perfect place for a relaxing lunch — delightful, brightly decorated, great service, and excellent cuisine. A Mi Manera definitely delivered on the promise printed on the front of the menu — we experienced Peruvian gastronomy with all of our senses. I’d have to say, however, that the Rocoto (a spicy, hot pepper filled with beef and raisins, served with golden potatoes) Vidal ordered ensured that he’d be using a few more senses than we did — ay, ay, ay!

Being unfamiliar with portion sizes, we ordered a bit more than we should have — lesson learned, we won’t be ordering both an appetizer and a main course from now on. When it comes to dessert, though, all bets are off — especially if they all taste as heavenly as the Caprichiosa (chocolate mousse) we ordered to top off today's lunch.

Caprichiosa — simply heavenly!

After our meal, we took a meandering walk back into Plaza de Armas where we spent an hour exploring the Cathedral of Santo Domingo, or simply the Cusco Cathedral.

The Cathedral of Santo Domingo dominates the Plaza de Armas.
(The small building to the right is the Iglesia del Triunfo.)

The conquistadors could have picked any spot in Cusco for the Cathedral, but they chose to build it over the ruins of Quiswarcancha, the palace of Inca Viracocha (named for the creator of all things and god of the sun and storms himself). The reason? They wanted to replace an important symbol of the Inca religious beliefs with one that represented Christianity. Construction of the cross-shaped Cathedral began in 1559 and took nearly 100 years to complete. Most of the stones used in the construction were taken from a nearby holy Inca site, Sacsaywaman. In doing so, the Spanish probably intended to destroy the site, which had a defensive purpose as well as a religious one.

There was a lot to see inside the Cathedral where preparations were underway for Easter celebrations. We wandered around, stopping to take a closer look at anything that caught our eye, including the embossed, beaten-silver altar that is in use today. I have to admit that I much preferred the elaborately carved alder-wood altar that it replaced — a true piece of art that sits covered in dust behind the silver altar. The carved wooden choir that we briefly explored was also most impressive.

At one point, we sat in one of the pews to watch the Señor de Los Temblores (Lord of the Earthquakes) being prepared for the procession that traditionally takes place on the Monday before Easter. Legend has it that a statue of Christ on the cross was paraded around the city during the earthquake of 1650. When the tremors stopped shortly thereafter, the faithful credited the Señor with averting a major disaster. And so was born a tradition that has become part of Easter celebrations. We arranged our itinerary so as to be in Cusco on the day of the procession; if we’re lucky, we’ll get a good spot from which to watch the proceedings.

Señor de Los Temblores
(image scanned from postcard)

The Cusco Cathedral has become a repository of colonial art in addition to being a place of worship. The oversized paintings cover almost all of the available wall space, with some of them being framed around doors in order to make the best use of the space. Most of the paintings are from the Escuela Cusqueña (Cusco School of Art), which was established by the Spanish to educate the locals in the disciplines of European-style artwork. The Quechua artists were only allowed to paint scenes that carried European or Catholic significance and they were not permitted to sign their work. These artists sometimes found ways to incorporate Inca iconography into their work — such as the roasted cuy (guinea pig — a cultural delicacy still served today) and the bottles of chicha (a brew derived from fermented maize that was often used in rituals) incorporated into the painting of the Last Supper by Marcos Zapata.

The Last Supper as depicted by a Quechua artist from the Escuela Cusqueña.
(image scanned from postcard)

From the Cathedral, we went onto take a quick peek around the adjacent Iglesia del Triunfo (Church of the Triumph), which was the first Christian church built in Cusco. It was constructed over the ruins of the Suntur Wasi, the Inca armory where the Spanish were trapped during Manco Inca’s 1536 siege — no wonder it was destroyed and replaced with a church! The name of the church refers to the eventual triumph of the Spanish over the Inca rebels.

We completed our explorations and exited through the main door of the church, dodging the gauntlet of locals selling everything from finger puppets, to painted gourds, to massages and manicures. Then we did our best not to fall into the clutches of youngsters rattling off “Washington DC capital, president Barack Obama, Barack Obama good man, you want buy something” as soon as they figured out we were from the US. We said “No, gracias,” to all of the offers, but did stop to purchase some postcards of the interior of the Cathedral since photography was not allowed inside.

Flagging down a cab at the curb, Vidal next took us to the Church of San Cristobal, perched on Colcampata Hill overlooking Cusco. The church is currently closed to the public due to an active excavation project, but we were there to enjoy a bird’s eye view of the city, so we didn’t mind that we were unable to go inside. Even as we enjoyed the scenery, storm clouds were gathering in the distance, accompanied by occasional rumbles of thunder. Before long, a light drizzle started to fall. It didn’t last long, however, and the sun was soon shining brightly with the gift of a rainbow in the distance.

A glimpse of Cusco from the Church of San Cristobal.

A meandering walk through charming cobblestone streets brought us back to Los Apus. Our timing was perfect. No sooner were we inside our room that the heavens opened up in a downpour. Standing on the balcony, we enjoyed the refreshing coolness the rain brought with it and watched as it washed away the dust and grime in the streets.

Next Up: Day 2 — Night Out on the Town

Day 2 — Night Out on the Town

Saturday — April 4

As the rain came to an end and night fell, we donned our layers against the gathering chill, collected our tripods and cameras, and headed back to Plaza de Armas for some nighttime photography.

The Saturday night merriment was just starting to swing into action with locals enjoying a night out on the town. There were several wedding parties adding to the festive atmosphere — some getting ready to tie the knot at one of the churches on either side of the Cathedral; others using the nighttime ambiance of the plaza as a backdrop for their wedding photographs.

After our late — and very satisfying — lunch, we weren’t very hungry, but seeing that the restaurants were fast filling up, we decided to postpone our photography until after dinner. After perusing the menus posted outside the eateries rimming the plaza, we settled on Norton’s Rat Tavern.

Earlier tonight, the balcony at Norton’s was chock-a-block with diners.

In case you’re wondering, the “rat” in the name of the pub is not a reference to cuy, but rather to an old classic British motorcycle such as the one used by Che Guevara during his travels in the 1950s — a bit of trivia worthy of Jeopardy, wouldn’t you say. In any event, the establishment sits atop a corner of one of the most intact Inca structures around, the Accllawasi, where the “chosen women” of the Inca lived. At least that’s what I read and I’m sticking to the story.

Despite the increasing chill in the night air, we took two of the last few seats on the narrow balcony overlooking Plaza de Armas. Norton’s might have been a bit more touristy than we would have liked, but it was a great spot from which to do some people-watching. The food was tasty; the Cusqueña Rubia beers we ordered were cold and quite good — all in all, it met our needs.

When in Cusco you drink the beer that is brewed locally.

I’ve made mention of Plaza de Armas (Plaza of Arms), but have not said much about it. Let me rectify that omission. There seems to be a plaza by this name in almost every Latin American city. Here’s how Wikipedia describes these plazas: “… It is often surrounded by governmental buildings, churches, and other structures of cultural or political significance. The name derives from the fact that this area would be a refuge in case of an attack upon the city, from which arms would be supplied to the defenders.” That describes the plaza here perfectly.

As the capital of the Inca Empire, Cusco is said to have been built in the shape of a puma (symbol of strength) with the plaza located where the puma’s heart would have been — a bit of symbolism that points to the plaza being the cultural center of not just the city, but of the empire as well. Soil from each of the conquered territories was brought to the square and symbolically mixed with the soil at the “heart of the empire.” Before the conquest, the square was twice the size it is today. When the Spanish took control of the city, they reduced its size by building the Cathedral and the Iglesia de la Compañia.

You might recall I mentioned in a previous post that what is now Plaza de Armas was named Wacaypata (Weeping Square) during the time of the Incas. Well, they had another name for the square as well — Aucaypata, meaning the “Square of War.” It was so named because the square was also where pre-battle ceremonies were held. At the time, instead of churches, palaces of the Incas rimmed the square — one of which housed the current ruler, and the others housed the mummified remains of former Incas. The other half of the original Inca square was known as Cusipata (the Joyful Square); this is where all the festivities and drunken revelry took place.

Before we traveled to Cusco, I had read that one day in 1997 Plaza de Armas really did become the weeping square. Why? Overnight, the mayor ordered almost all of the native Andean trees to be removed, an action that greatly saddened the residents of the city. Only a few were spared thanks to the efforts of people who chained themselves to some of the trees and refused to be budged despite the threats against them. My subsequent research had not revealed an explanation for the mayor’s action, so I asked Vidal about this yesterday when we were having lunch at Yaku Mama’s Grill. He pointed out the trees that had been spared and explained that the mayor had the trees removed because they were blocking the view of the buildings!!!!!!!!!

I wrote a bit about the Cathedral in my previous post. Even though we did not visit it today, I should give equal time to the other grand edifice of Plaza de Armas — La Compañía, or to give its full name, Iglesia La Compañía de Jesús (the Jesuit Church). Some say it rivals the Cathedral in grandeur, which is exactly what the Jesuits intended. It is indeed magnificent, even though the clocks on either side of the building are out of synch (wink, wink). Originally built in the 16th century, over the ruins of Amarucancha (the serpent courtyard), the palace of Inca Wayna Capac, the church was almost totally destroyed during the earthquake of 1650. It was rebuilt and completed in 1668. I understand the golden altar is quite magnificent; time permitting, we’ll go inside for a peek before we leave Cusco.

OK the informative section of the blog is over; back to our evening. After dinner, we wandered around the plaza, taking in the ambiance of a Saturday night in Cusco. It was surprisingly quiet, but it was only 8:00p; the revelry probably started much later. In addition to the many international tourists, there were quite a few Peruanos taking advantage of the Easter break to visit the city. Kids were running around, their parents watching indulgently; teenagers were cuddling in dark corners; brides and grooms were posing in front of the fountain in the center of the park; long-time friends were sitting on benches, chatting and laughing. And then there were the ubiquitous tourists, clicking shutters in complete awe of their surroundings. No one seemed to have a care in the world, which was really nice to see even if it was just an illusion.

The Cusco Cathedral looks even more impressive at night.

A wedding party uses La Compañía as a backdrop for their photos.

On that note, we started our slow walk back to the hotel. It was only 9:00p, but the night chill was really making itself felt. Besides, another busy and exciting day was not far off and we needed our rest.

Next Up: Day 3 — Market Day in Pisac

Day 3 — Market Day in Pisac

Sunday — April 5

This was a day planned specifically for Mui. When my pre-trip research revealed that Pisac has a market on Sundays that includes a procession of the varayocs (mayors of the local villages), he just had to be there to film the festivities. I enjoy the local color of markets, but I’m not big on crowds. However, with the promise of visiting the Pisac ruins as well as the market, I was looking forward to making our first trip into El Valle Sagrado (the Sacred Valley).

Our day started at 7:00a with Vidal picking us up from Los Apus. On our way out of town, we made a detour to see the immense statue that stands high over Cusco — El Cristo Blanco (the White Christ). A gift from grateful Palestinian refugees, the 30-foot (~9 m) tall statue is reminiscent of Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer. Impressive from a distance, the statue is downright awe-inspiring when you stand at its feet and look up, and up, and up to see the face.

El Cristo Blanco overlooks Cusco.

There was a bit of haze lying over the valley, so I didn’t take any panoramic shots, opting to record the bird’s eye view of the city in my brain cells instead. Though our time was limited here, that did not stop us from wandering over to the far side for a glimpse of Sacsaywaman, one of the holiest of Inca sites. We’ll be stopping there on our way out to Ollantaytambo in a few days.

Vidal catches me off guard after I turn away from taking a photo of Sacsaywaman.

By 8:00a, we were winding our way towards Pisac. Despite the light morning haze, the views of the Sacred Valley were spectacular. We stopped at a couple of overlooks to capture some digital images to add to those we were storing in our minds. The mountains were covered in verdant vegetation through which red soil peeked through. Add to that blue skies and brilliant white clouds; neon blue-green hummingbirds gathering nectar from tiny, yellow flowers — a very colorful scene indeed.

Glimpse of El Valle Sagrado veiled by the morning haze.

We arrived in Pisac as the town was getting into the swing of market day. Just outside the entrance to the “tourist market,” locals were congregated around vehicles from which bundles of produce were being unloaded. Vidal explained that the townspeople lie in wait in order to get the best pick of whatever is available. Nearby, elders from the 13 villages that are a two- to five-hour walk away through the mountains were gathering for the procession to the church. Mui was ready to start filming there and then, but Vidal convinced him that better opportunities were ahead and led us to a communal bakery nearby.

The courtyard we found ourselves in was dominated by a wood-burning oven blackened by soot from years and years of operation. The baker was pulling out roasted cuy and potatoes from the oven. (Remember, that’s guinea pig, a delicacy in Perú.) Thanks, but we’ll pass — just couldn’t see ourselves eating roasted cuy when their live cousins were running around their “cuy houses” just a few feet away.) With the cuy cooling on the table, the baker then slid a paddle-full of empanadas inside the oven. Would have waited to have some of those, but the market was calling our name.

Cuy is considered a delicacy by Peruanos.
(just so you know, what looks like the innards of the guinea pig is actually the herb-stuffing used to flavor the cuy)

Slowly, we made our way through the tourist market where vendors were setting up for the day ahead. Everywhere we looked there were displays of alpaca goods, including sweaters, scarves, and chullos (knit caps indigenous to Perú); carved gourds; pan flutes; necklaces, earrings, and bracelets made of polished stone; handmade tapestries and bags; and just about any kind of trinket one might desire. The colorful displays and the calls of the vendors invited us to dally, but we were here for the local market. That did not stop the shopper in the family from checking things out (if I have to explain who that is, you don’t know us well)!

Colorful display of dolls in the tourist market at Pisac.

Color, color, color! That was my first impression of the local market, which was far more authentic than the touristy stalls we had passed. The locals went about their business with little regard to the presence of the few visitors that had ventured into their domain. Campesinos (farmers) selling fresh produce and flowers; villagers touting everything from bags of salt, quinoa, and rice, to matches, to sweets, to vibrant natural dyes; old women sorting through piles of potatoes and corn; gnarled hands shelling corn kernels the size of almonds; men wheeling in goods on makeshift carts, bicycles, and anything else they could get their hands on; kids playing with makeshift toys; villagers bargaining and bartering; locals standing around chatting; people hurrying home with baked goods fresh from the communal bakery — the chocolate cakes still in the tins they were baked in looked quite good. Mui was in heaven; I was doing my best not to be overwhelmed by immersing myself in the local color and trying to forget the crowds around me, which was not easy to do.

Tubs of natural dyes add to the color at the local market.

One minute Mui was standing next to me, the next he was gone. Vidal and I searched the market, being careful not to lose sight of each other. No sign of Mui. Then, catching a glimpse of the church through an arched gate, I suggested that Vidal check the church while I waited in the market. Two minutes later, Vidal was back with Mui in tow. Having caught the procession of the varayocs and regidores (mayors and deputies), Mui was grinning from ear-to-ear. “This is great; let me show you,” he said as he led the way out of the market.

Mayors from nearby villages pose in front of the church — tips for photos appreciated.

When we arrived at the entrance to San Pedro Apóstol de Pisac, the mayors and their deputies were already in place, posing for the tourists that had congregated around them. It was just as I had read — the men were dressed in knee-length black pants, colorful ponchos, hats that resembled upside down salad bowls, and carried silver-embossed staffs as a symbol of their office. Lined up with the mayors were their young attendants, blowing conch shells with gusto (the conch shells are used to help make way as the mayors walk through the crowds on their way to church). That there was a small plate for tips was a bit disconcerting and detracted from the charm of the scene, but we paid our dues and clicked away nonetheless.

When Vidal said that photography was allowed inside the colonial church before services began, we went in to look around. We didn’t stay long, however …

A peek inside San Pedro Apóstol de Pisac.

Next Up: Day 3 — Uh Oh!

Day 3 — Uh Oh!

Sunday — April 5

That I am writing this post is a good sign, but a good portion of the earlier part of the day is a blur for me. One minute I was listening to Vidal telling us how the church in Pisac had been damaged during the 1950 earthquake, the next I was urgently asking, ¿dónde está el baño?, por favor (where is the bathroom please). Sensing my dire need, Vidal did not stop to ask any questions as he led us to the nearest facilities. What followed would be TMI — too much information — so I’ll cut to the chase.

I have little recollection of how I got to the van after my GI episode, but I do know that I managed to do so under my own steam. The next thing I remember distinctly is being prone on the seat, chills racking my body, and Mui handing me a Cipro pill and a bottle of water. As the van headed out of town, I could hear Vidal and Mui speaking — words like saltines and Gatorade peppered their conversation. We must have stopped at a store before leaving Pisac as a bag with these essentials was soon within easy reach. I took a few sips of the Gatorade to start replenishing my electrolytes, told Mui and Vidal not to forget to stop at the overlook for a view of Pisac, and dozed off again to the sound of chuckles from the men in the van.

Mui filming at the overlook above Pisac.
(photo by Vidal)

When I next opened my eyes, we were at the foot of the steps leading up to Los Apus. Once in bed, I knew I’d be sleeping the rest of the day. I didn’t want anyone hovering over me, so after promising to have the front desk call them on Vidal’s cell phone if need be, I sent Mui and Vidal off to explore the main market in Cusco.

By the way, I am sure that my GI problem has nothing to do with anything I ate in Cusco. I had symptoms a few days before we left on our trip, but I chalked them up to the stress of preparing to go on a trip during a particularly busy time at the office. Had I paid more attention and started the Cipro then, I probably would not have had to endure today’s unpleasant incident.

I’m glad that I listened to suggestions from friends to get a prescription for Cipro from the doctor before we left on our trip. I'm also very glad that Vidal was with us when I had my GI episode. True he’s not a doctor, but he’s well versed in the treatment of what some call “travelers illness” — he has to be since he guides people on the Inca Trail where medical help is not immediately available. His calm demeanor helped soothe both Mui’s and my frayed nerves and enabled us to deal with my “little emergency” in a very practical manner.

Next Up: Day 3 — More Local Color