Puerto Maldonado, Day 2 and 3

We were told to be ready at 7 AM for breakfast the next morning, so at 6 AM someone knocked at our door to wake us up. A new day begins. After a buffet breakfast, we again climbed into the dugout canoe with the funny motor. This time we only went a little way down river and then got off near a spot only the guide could find. I looked but could not have found this particular spot. All of the shoreline is green, no signs I could see, yet we landed right at a small mud staircase in the riverbank. Walking up these stairs was very easy but that was the last easy part of the day. We were in for an educational walking tour that lasted for hours and covered a bit more than 4 Km walking mostly in mud. But we are good troopers. We had our rubber boots on again and we had slept well, let the new day begin. We did all we could not to get stuck in the muck. We did all we could to not touch anything along the way unless the guide said it is ok to touch.
Our guide, a young man of about 25 native to the area, who spoke English well, now showed us what he knew and pointed out things he saw. We needed him. He pointed at frogs we would have never seen without him. He pointed out edible plants, medicinal plants, and dangerous plants, showed us how to use items that grew in the jungle and were just for the taking. The key to survival comes from knowing the good stuff from bad.
One tree, looking harmless, housed fire ants. You touch the tree and you are attacked by thousands of those ants. Each ant bites and each bite is very painful and lasts 24 or more hours. Years ago, people were bound to a tree like that and exposed to these ants overnight. By morning they were usually dead. The way of the jungle is neither easy nor forgiving but it does offer the means of survival. Each minute or second of the day is full of dangers. Be aware.
Some trees are good; the bark can be used like garlic and stinks the same way. The bark is a good Insect repellent. I took a piece of this bark and put it into my pouch and the smell was so overwhelming that after an hour I threw the bark away, yet the stink in my pouch lingers to this day. Some trees are hollow, when struck with a pole the sound travels for up to 5 KM in the normally quiet jungle. These trees were used by the locals as a drum or a telegraph system, hence the name of the tree: “Telephone” tree. Another tree with very large and flat roots makes great boat paddles, we are told. An elephant tree, named after the look of the bark, when slept under, gives you erotic dreams. A shaman’s potion made from the bark of this tree will help you gain those dream stages fast. Large bushes make great roofing material, skirts and even hats. Huge leaves of some plants serve as cups or you can use them in the rain as a rain hat. The variety of plants is mindboggling.
Laced throughout this system are bugs of every kind. There are thousands of ant varieties. There are leaf cutting ants, fire ants, huge ants as big as a mouse, army ants and ants of many other kinds, each with a specialty. Termites when rubbed on the skin, serve as a mosquito repellant. Butterflies abound and grubs or larvae of some bugs or other critters are hidden in fruits, barks or under leafs. Some of those grubs are edible. I know because I ate one.
Our guide was very keen and knowledgeable. What amazed me the most is that he could see details were I only saw green. His eyes were everywhere; he was at home in the jungle. The jungle was his garden of paradise. He would have no trouble surviving; I would have starved amidst plenty.
Our walk, ever so slowly and slippery and muddy, culminated at the edge of a large lake named Apuvictor. The lodge had built a large platform at the edge of the lake so that we could have a bird’s eye view of our surroundings. We climbed the many stairs and were now at tree top level. Before us stretched a lake choked with water lilies, swamp plants and water fowl of many species. We rested for a bit, in silence and let the natural surroundings soak into our consciousness. After a while, however, the little flies, mosquitoes, etc, drove us back down and we took a boat ride, our guide paddled, quietly and efficiently through channels in the vegetation only he knew about. Some channels were exactly one boat-width wide, just enough to creep through. Again we searched for caiman but, again, we saw none. We saw a bird, a moatzin, around since prehistoric times, who had built a nest site nearby. We saw other birds, but could not identify them. Like a shadow these birds swish aloft and are gone out of sight. The lake, the surrounding area of the lake, the whole experience if visiting the jungle is a quiet experience. I cannot get over the quietude of the jungle, it was not loud like I imagined, but the buzzing of insects and a few shrieks of birds was all I heard.
We headed back towards the lodge, following a new path and again, mud, slime, water but no rain. The water we stepped in or slithered through was from previous rainfalls. Did I say no rain? About 10 minutes before the end of our walk, the heavens opened up for us and we got soaked. Yes, it rained, it rained in sheets. In a way we were lucky because we found a lean to that gave us temporary shelter. We waited until the worst was over and then made a mad dash for the good cover of the Lodge. Muddy as we were, we did not walk the polished wooden sidewalks of the lodge, but walked through the muddy grounds, back to the boot rack. Cleaning the muck off the boots is one of the jobs of the guides but we helped, leaving clean boots.
Being hot and sweaty and dirty ourselves we jumped first into the shower and then into the pool at the lodge. Wow, was that water cold. The rain water was pleasantly warm but the pool water was cold. Either way, we enjoyed both, standing in the rain, soaking up the warm water, getting rid of the dirt on our bodies felt great. Then a plunge into the chilly water of the pool cooled us off enough to enjoy the lunch at 1:30 PM. We had walked about 5 KM with many stops but in difficult terrain and we walked for about 5 hours continuously.
Our next outing entailed no more walking. We went fishing. Equipped with a stick, a short line and a hook we went for fish. Carol is the only one who caught a fish. She caught a small kind of catfish, with poisonous darts on the side of its body. Again we used our jungle canoe with homemade motor and we had visitors, too. Some young men that work at the lodge were invited to join us. We were told these young men were expert fishermen. Having seen fishermen before, I can attest that they were no such thing as experts. Noisy, boisterous and funny, they all had a good time but not one fish bit their lines. They tried nets, tried rice as chum, tried bread, tried and tried without results.
We went up a small river, a side arm of the Rio Madre de Dios for our fishing expedition. The water on this river was different; colder and faster flowing then the Madre de Dios. This new river, arrow straight in spots and overgrown with all kinds of plant life, had people living along the banks. Wretched living conditions were visible from our boat; the people looked dirty and slovenly but had a smile on their face when we went past them. Children were swimming in this river despite the dangers of piranhas who inhabit these waters. One fisherman even showed us a piranha he had just caught.
I was a visitor from planet New York, knowing nothing about the details of living in the Amazonian Jungle. I can survive the NYC Jungle; I did for close to 30 years but surviving the real Amazon jungle seems impossible. We had a great time, though. Our guide was great and knowledgeable. Ok, we caught no fish except for Carol but we had a good time. On the way back we felt like young kids. Exploring, finding something new, having our curiosity tickled, felt great. I learned something, I saw something new.
We had dinner at 7 PM again that night, sat in a hammock near the shoreline of the great river Madre de Dios and watched the sun set. Early the next morning we took a better but still narrow boat for our 2 hour trip upstream back to Puerto Maldonado with all the dirt and dust and noise we call civilization.
I loved this trip.

Puerto Maldonado, Day 1

Due to the recent rain storms the rail line or any streets going to Machu Picchu are still out. There is no way for us to visit Machu Picchu. Instead we took 3 days and 2 nights to visit the Peruvian Jungle, Madre de Dios. On the East side of the Andes, the mountains drop off rapidly and the Eastern part of Peru is pure jungle. Hot and steamy, moist and rainy, very dense and tropical, this jungle is certainly dangerous. We picked the town of Puerto Maldonado because it had an airport and we could get a flight from Cuzco. Also the lodge we where we wanted to stay had a special program for the time we wanted. Like most things in Peru, the planning is only part of the job.
Our flight on Star Peru was delayed and we worried that we would miss the pick up at the airport in Puerto Maldonado. Not to worry, Peruvians are used to delays of any kind. Our pick up was there in a huge, brightly painted, open-sided bus and we were first taken to their office where arrangements were made right away for our boarding pass on our return flight. After climbing over the prow of a very narrow riverboat, we travelled down river to a lodge in the jungle. This Eco Amazonia Lodge (www.ecoamazonia.com.pe), our home for the next 3 days was basic yet comfortable enough, even luxurious for Jungle standards. All food was included in the package, we did not have to cook or worry about not getting enough to eat. The meals were exceptional and great tasting. Upon arrival at the lodge we were served lunch immediately and then taken on a tour of Monkey Island. This is an Island across from the Lodge in the middle of the very broad and very fast running Rio Madre de Dios, our highway for the next few days. Monkey Island is owned by the Lodge and is quite large. Monkeys found injured, or held as pets and no longer wanted, or taken from poachers, are brought to this sanctuary. These animals are set free there and are taken care of by the lodge. When we visited we were told that a total of 35 monkeys were on the Island. Our transport to this Island was via a small river boats with a simple, homemade, outboard motor. We chugged across the Madre de Dios and landed someplace on the banks of the Island. One boat was already tied up but getting off those slim, wobbly boats was a challenge. After climbing gingerly over the prow, we stepped off the boat and sank immediately almost up the knees into the muck and mud of the river bank. Climbing up the embankment this way was not easy. Each step threatened to pull the rubber boots we were given off our feet. Slick and slippery footing made our rubber boots a god send.
We were provided with these boots before we left the Lodge; they were stacked in a rack and ready for the taking by anyone from the Lodge going on an excursion. I am very glad we listened and took them along. Without those rubber boots, walking in the jungle would have been impossible. A trail was already cut thru the thicket but some spots were so muddy we had to wade through water and mud over our ankles. In extreme spots, boards were laid out or little bridges were built to make the going a little bit easier (but not much easier). It was never an easy going hike. Each step had to be planned and each step had to be firm and secure. Without those precautions we would certainly have fallen and would have hit the mud. We came very close a few times and only by reaching out to the sides and holding on to a tree were we saved.
This holding on to any vegetation is a definite no-no in the jungle. We were just not savvy enough to touch things. Plants had so many defenses and snakes or spiders or poisonous frogs were hidden and could seriously harm us, holding on, while walking in this mud was not recommended and in fact was dangerous.
After some time, maybe 45 minutes, we came to a feeding station. The guides had set up a primitive table and before they got to this feeding spot they made monkey calling sounds to let the monkeys know we were close by.
Just before we arrived, our guide noted that Carol was carrying a water bottle. The water bottles in all of Peru have bright blue caps. The guide was a bit at a loss and asked Carol to hide the bottle in her pocket, because the monkeys, loving clean water, would certainly attack her. Well Carol heeded his advise and even kept a hand over the tell tale blue cap. But, once she saw the monkeys she forgot about the stupid water bottle and used both hands to take pictures. Well, a large spider monkey saw the tell tale blue cap and immediately ran towards Carol to get clean drinking water. There was no defense from the relentless attack of the spider monkey. Even with the guide trying to divert the attention of the monkey back to bananas or other food morsels, this monkey wanted clean drinking water. As you can see by the pictures it pulled the bottle right out of Carols pant pocket. Naturally it climbed right up Carol’s legs and did all it could to get the water.
It all happened very fast, the pictures do not do the situation justice. Only when the guide finally gave water to this spider monkey did we have peace. Other monkeys nearby were as eager for clean water but were not as bold. There is enough water around, it is the rainy season, but this particular monkey must have developed a taste for certain water and that is what he wanted.

The lodge also owns 10,000 acres of jungle and within the boundaries of this acreage no hunting, poaching or cutting lumber is allowed. It is a true sanctuary. Guided tours are given for tourists like us and explanations are given in an educational way. Students visit to learn about the delicate ecology of the jungle but are also being made aware of its dangers. Our monkey outing was just the beginning of a wonderful trip. We were lucky to be able to see a few of the monkeys and only thru the training of the guides were we able to do it. In general the jungle is quiet. Yes, mosquitoes abound, so do creatures like ants or caterpillars but Amazonia has really no large mammals. Those large mammals found in Africa are not present here. The jaguar is the largest predator and a rare sight. The main inhabitants of the Amazonian Jungle are bugs of all kinds. And the plant life is so varied that to know each plant seems impossible.
Then after seeing the monkeys we had to return to the boat. Again we had mud up to our knees and hot and steamy walking weather. Luckily, we had no rain that day.
We had been advised already, both in the U.S. and in Canada, to take anti-malarial tablets. Mosquitoes are a constant pest. Open your mouth to talk and they fly right in. Lucky for us they do not have bones; I ate a lot of them that day.
Once back at the lodge, again using the slim canoe-like riverboats with the peculiar outboard motor, we had about one hour to rest. Dinner was at 7 PM and we had just finished eating when we were told that a night tour on the river was next.
At 8 PM, our departure time, night had set in. There were no lights anywhere and getting into the riverboat again, this time in total darkness, was an eerie experience. Nobody dared to wobble too much for fear of falling into the pitch black water. The homemade outboard motor came to life and we chugged upriver, but this time we hugged the shoreline very closely. We had 2 guides on board, one at the helm and one at the bow of the boat with a homemade searchlight. A handheld light bulb was clipped to a car battery, voila, a searchlight. We were looking for caimans, the South American Crocodile, we searched and searched, chugging always upriver but never saw the tell tale reflection of their eyes.
After about 20 minutes of intense search, we gave up. Now, being upriver, the guides shut off the motor, shut off the search lights and we all shut our mouths and let the symphony of jungle sounds settle over us. The boat now drifted with the current guiding us downriver again. Swift and without sound we had 10 to 15 minutes with only the jungle sounds, in the pitch dark, in the middle of the river, in the night jungle. It was a sublime experience. Nature was all around us. We had water below, dark, cloudy sky above and wilderness as primitive as it gets left and right of us. It was such a simple yet very memorable experience. For these 15 minutes, the trip was worth every penny. As modern city slickers, we are in awe of such experiences. I certainly was impressed and strangely aroused.
Coming back and close to the Lodge again, the homemade outboard motor stuttered once more to life. It felt good to be back on land and back to light bulbs and other modern amenities. By 9 PM we were asleep and slept like logs in our cabin. This cabin, made out of rot resistant wood, had the luxury of a shower and while everything inside the cabin was made out of wood because the humidity was so intense, we had a bed with a regular mattress. We slept well that night, despite the rain that fell on the straw roof right after we lay down. An overhead fan gave us some air current but, unknown to us the electricity was turned off at 10 PM, like it is done every day. But we never knew it, we were asleep.

Pictures of Sacred Valley

The Sacred Valley

I had heard so much about the Sacred Valley that I just had to take this tour. Every travel agent offers a tour here to visit this nearby valley. I guess it is obligatory when you visit Cuzco. We followed the crowds, became total tourists and the way this is organized is interesting.
We had an early pick up at 8 AM at our hotel. A runner, usually a girl with a cell phone, makes sure we are ready. She then waits with us at the hotel entrance for her collection bus to show. This bus comes rather quickly once she calls them on her cell phone. We hop on the bus and off we go. The runner will then run ahead thru shortcuts to the next hotel. But this was not the sightseeing bus. This was just the collection bus. This collection bus moves from one hotel to another and collects people. Then, after this smallish bus is full we are transferred to a full size, larger bus. Only when everybody is collected in all of Cuzco does the tour begin. The whole process takes about a half hour and I felt like I was being processed, rather than given a tour. I felt like I was in a herd of cattle on a farm, all they had to do is put a tag on me and scan me on and off the bus to make it more efficient and to make sure I attended all stops. This was not a personal tour; it was like a cookie cutter presentation no matter how much you paid for the tour.
We had the same guide as yesterday on the city tour. He was a likable chap, albeit prejudiced in favor of the Quechuan. The bus ride was long, it took nearly 2 hours before our first stop because we had to take a detour around a mountain and then cross the river Urubamba over a bridge that survived the latest rain storms. There was a shorter way but the bridge on this short route was destroyed and had not been fixed yet.
Our first view of the Sacred Valley was from way up high, an overlook on a mountain top, naturally occupied by folks trying desperately to sell you something, anything. In traditional dress with a Llama next to them to make it picturesque they charge you one soles if you want to take a picture of them. Anything was done to make money. Little girls with lambs on their arms, really cute, had the same set up. The mother nearby made sure you paid first before you took a picture.
The view of the valley was startling. Deep in a crevice I could make out a town. The fields around the town, the fields climbing up the mountains were lush and green and had many different crops growing on them; naturally, mainly potatoes or maize. Other items such as barley, onions or other vegetables were trained to grow at this high altitude, too.
The guide pointed out that an agricultural research station, sponsored by the government, hybridizes common vegetables to grow here. Sometimes, it takes decades to find the right combination to have a certain vegetable grow at this altitude. The research is an ongoing agricultural project.
Climbing back on the bus, still being followed by the sellers of junk, we departed for the town we had seen below. The Sacred Valley is at about 2900 Meters above sea level, substantially lower than Cuzco, plants grow better down here and are more sheltered from winds and get more water from the river Urubamba and the many springs that feed the river. Along this valley are towns with long, Quechuan names and all the towns live exclusively off agriculture. Near or in some of those towns are ruins of former Inca strongholds, or temples or installations of Inca waterworks that use the natural springs to feed the many fields. Those Inca irrigation systems are a marvel of civil engineering and are superb in every way. After all this time of neglect they still work perfectly. Yes, some channels are no longer productive due to earthquakes in the past but the main channels still produce water for the many fields. Other astounding sights in the Sacred Valley are the many terraced fields. In order to maximize the yield of arable land and to make working the land easier, the Inca terraced the hillsides. Exquisite stone work holds the fields in place. The production of each hill is increased many fold and the work is a lot easier to perform on terraced fields than on steep hillsides. Inca priests in years gone by, needed to watch the sky and the stars. They needed to watch the sun, when is it highest, lowest, when will it come back, etc. Astrology and Astronomy were the basis for the priests’ knowledge. And in order to get a good look at the stars and the sun, temples and observatories had to be built. Those ruins are still present in the Sacred Valley today and are stops along the way for any tourist bus.
There were many temples built here, dedicated to the sun, or the moon, or the water, or whatever deity affected the yield or production of the fields. Food was all important, it was sacred. The Inca did not have a monetary system. Their system relied on labor, trade and on relationships. It was important to know a lot of people because each favor done for any of those people guaranteed a favor back. Careful records were kept as to what favors were owed. The more people one knew, the more favors they owned. The man who was owed the most favors was called a rich man. The poor man was the man nobody knew, who knew nobody and who had nobody to take care of him when he needed a favor. The Inca King, by birthright, was given 30% of the common man’s labor during his life time. This system worked for the Quechua, it was a system without money but food was important, was essential to all. Food was stored for times of famine by the priests. Food was planted when the priests said the time was right to plant. Food was limited at this high altitude and the stored food needed to be protected from invaders. Food, like I said, was sacred.
The valley that grew the best or most food near Cuzco, the seat of the Inca King, was called the Sacred Valley. Yes, this valley was fortified with forts to protect it and its storage facilities. Yes, water was needed when it did not rain in the summer. Yes, prayers needed to be given to the gods when it did not rain in the normal rainy season. And each god had his or her own temple. The sacred valley was protected, was prayed over, fussed over and contains many artifacts of the former Inca.
We visited a few of the old sites. Long names I cannot remember were given to each particular spot but the gist of the trip was the production, the protection and the distribution of food. This was done long ago and is even done now. The valley is large and beautiful in an agricultural sense. The people living there are farmers. Some others specialized in weaving, some in tool making or some other things, like having a restaurant, but the base of all of this is and was food; the sacred source of life for all.
The tour given to the Sacred Valley concentrated on old, looted cemeteries, on fortified installations that not only served as military training centers but contained a sun temple, too. There was even a bath set up on top of a hill supposedly for a princess or queen. Of course we visited specialty shops of weavers who tied to sell ‘hand’ woven and naturally dyed woolens. We also saw a church, again built on an old Inca foundation with very baroque and very ornate, over the top decorations, gilded and so full of gold and silver that it is more disturbing than nice.
Many details were given that nobody will remember and names dropped nobody can pronounce. The tour is interesting enough yet I prefer the general overview I gave above, it makes the most sense to me in the long run. What I certainly could have done without were the many vendors and/or beggars that were like locusts clustering around, being obnoxious and in my face. It was hard for me to keep my composure and not slap some of them. What I could have done without were the artificially inflated prices of everything just because we were foreigners. The consensus seems to be to charge at least double if not four times the regular price any Peruvian would have to pay. The Sacred Valley tour is must, if only it would be more elegantly done.

Bus ride from Puno to Cuzco

This time we did not take Cruz del Sol but the local agent in Puno recommended taking the Bus line ‘First Class’ for the few hours it takes to drive to Cuzco. This bus line stops at different sites along the way while also getting to Cuzco in one day.
Our first stop was a breakfast stop for the guide on the bus. While he disappeared into the back of a local souvenir shop, I saw him sitting in the kitchen and the woman of the place served him bacon and eggs, we were left prey for the locals to sell us something, anything, really, as long as we buy. Yes, there was a bathroom but it was 6 doors down the block and not easy to find, a pig sty in Vermont looks better that that house with the only bathroom. I believe the guide stops here because he gets free breakfast served in exchange for bringing a busload of potential customers.
After this 15 minute stop it got serious, we visited a museum of a Pre-Inca culture that lived in the Highlands of Peru from about 500 BC until 400 AD and then disappeared, leaving behind many strange objects. A huge 3 stepped stone Pyramid that is now closed to visitors but which is the source for this archeological treasure trove is represented in this museum. The culture known as Pukara was around during the Persian Empire, before the Romans build the Coliseum in Rome. Not many objects survived since the building stones were used in local houses and the art sold to international art dealers. I learned that the Pukara were a powerful tribe who beheaded their enemies and displayed the heads as trophies. Some believe the Pukara were ceremonious cannibals, too. Surviving statues show their cannibalistic and beheading traits. Prehistoric tribes just lived differently than we do today. I was shocked to learn that cultures I called the ancients were around when the Persians were in their glory, before the Romans were on the world map. Peru has an old history.
Our next stop was a short one, but we got off the bus just to breathe the air at 4335 meters above sea level. We felt better than I anticipated as we had been in Puno (3,800 meters) for so long we felt ok. No signs of altitude sickness. I bought a pair of Alpaca socks for 10 Soles.
Our next stop was a lunch stop. Yes, lunch was included in this bus trip. A buffet style lunch was served at the Inka Cafe; a local band with a guitar, a pan flute and a drum played for us and wanted a tip also. They had CD’s for sale but if the CD was as bad as their playing, then who needs it. You can eat all you want, but you have to pay for any cold drink, hot tea is served free of charge.
Not long after this lunch stop we visited the church of Saint Pedro; the church was built on a former Inca site, evidenced by the stone work left as the foundation. San Pedro Church is known as the Sistine Chapel of Peru. The ceiling is fully painted and decorated with small flowers and symbolic paintings. Local artists spend years painting every beam, every surface of the chapel, just like the famous Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. No pictures were allowed inside of this church. The ornamentation, the gold and silver gilding of every surface of the baroque style church is too much for my mind. There are so many details that it is confusing to my mind. I only see senseless spending of money; I see opulence and grand-standing. Churches do not appeal to me yet I know they are always part of a tour. Especially Spanish style churches are way over the top for my taste.
Back on the bus for about 2 more hours and then we arrived at an Inca temple and the town of Raqchi. Not on many tourist programs this site is a wonderful example of what it was like in Inca times. The town of Raqchi today lives off tourism, yes, but also off agriculture. Like in olden times, the many small fields are planted by locals with maize, potatoes and local specialties. The temple of the Creator of the Universe, a long Quechuan name, was the origin of this town. Some walls of the temple were recreated; ruins of houses for the priests and the general layout of an Inca town are clearly visible. Storage bins for produce are present. These round building served as storage for times of famine and were stocked by the priesthood. We were told that there was enough food in those silos to last 90 years when the town was ransacked by the Spanish invasion. Naturally the temple was destroyed in 1534 and yet, the feeling of the town, the Inca spirit is palpable until today. The famous Inca Trail, used by runners to bring news from one end of the empire to the next passes through this town. We sat on the side of this Inca Trail and drank in the feeling of being in a special place. I felt pleasure walking along the edges of the fields. I felt amazement of the sheer size of this town. I was, once more, astonished to see the layout of this town with the main street oriented east to west so that on June 21, the summer solace, the sun would shine along the length of the street for the entire day. The town planning was excellent. The bathing facilities for the Incas are still in working order. An artificial pond and lake were created to clean the water after use. This town is amazing. The world temple in Raqchi is worth a visit. We had too little time for this stop I would have liked to explore Raqchi a bit more but then it started to rain.
We did not make the planned next stop at a local open air market because of the heavy rain but went straight to Cuzco. On the way in to Cuzco the devastation left by the last rain fall 3 weeks ago is still very much in evidence. Houses totally destroyed on the side of the roads. Crops ruined. One thousand people are living in makeshift tents, hoping to find housing soon or rebuild. None of the concrete or brick buildings suffered a lot of damage but the adobe houses suffered the most. Most affected are the poor since they build houses just for shelter, mostly just one room shacks. They build in bad locations close to rivers that overflow during rainy season and they felt the brunt of the latest rains. I understand why they build cheaply, it is ok for the short run but in the long term these disasters will occur again and they will be hurt and left homeless again. The local government promised help on the provision that new houses are built far from the river. But there are so many homeless people now, that these promises, like many promises before, may not be honored.
Our bus drove past all the rubble and dirt and we arrived at the bus terminal in no time. Angel, the agent arranged by Francis was waiting for us in Cuzco.

Cuzco, Cusco, Cosco

We are now at the capital of the Inca Empire which was ransacked and occupied by the Spanish Empire in 1534, maltreated by the Spanish Inquisition but never conquered. The spirit of the Inca is still here today. Many examples are present that show the outside world that the population adopted the way of the Spanish yet hidden in all the rituals of the Catholic faith, for example, are the Inca rituals. The food, even today, is not Spanish here but Quechuan or Inca. Again, the Inca was the king of the Quechuan. The people themselves are the Quechua.
The city is large; a total population of nearly 400,000 inhabitants lives 3500 meters (11500 feet) above sea level. The air has 30% less oxygen in Cuzco.
Many people still dress, especially the woman, like they did 100 years ago. Their shoes are sandals. Their legs are bow legged. The people are short, usually around 5 feet tall, and the women even less. Dark skinned, with distinctive facial features. Most of the population today is of a mixed race but the Inca (Quechuan) features are predominant. I am told the purest blooded Incas live not in the city but deep in the mountains. Life for them has not been affected by the modern age. They still live, like they did years ago, like the Quechuans of old.
But I am in Cusco, or Cosco or whatever spelling you want to give it. The confusion comes from the way the city name is pronounced in the local language. The main language here is Quechuan. Not Spanish. Spanish is the official language of Peru but here, people speak Quechuan. During our city tour our guide was proud to be able to speak Quechuan fluently. He was a Mestizo, a man of mixed races or mixed blood. He was proud of it, too. Our guide considered himself Quechuan, not Peruvian. According to him, many people feel like he feels. His estimate is that 90% of the population of Cuzco feels this way. While not teaming with hatred for the Spanish I could feel his frustration with the present Peruvian State. His belief was that had Spain accepted the Incan Empire and not tried to conquer it, the world would have been better off today. We, today’s inhabitants of mother earth, would have been astonished at the things we could have learned from the Incas.
So much has been lost forever due to religious intolerance and pure greed of the Spanish that it still hurts the Quechuan today. Temples, the center for the Quechuan religious life, were destroyed and churches build on top of the same foundations just to demonstrate that Spain and the Catholic Church now rules. The Churches were built to show that the Inca Empire was subdued and forever gone. Exquisite buildings were mindlessly destroyed forever. The city of Cusco has too many churches, not because they were all needed but because the Inca Empire had so many temples for their many gods and the Spanish demonstrated their superiority by building a church over each temple. The old gods are gone forever; there is now only one God, the Christian God of the Spanish, the Catholic God. Or so the Spanish thought. People were forced to attend church services, they were forced to pray. And now comes the peculiar twist, the people prayed but in their Quechuan language and they asked their Inca god for help. They knew that this was originally an Inca Temple, even knew to which Quechuan god the spot was dedicated. So they prayed, asking their local deity for help. They prayed in the name of Jesus just to conform to the wishes of the Church but in their hearts they were and always will be Quechuan. It is further evident in the woodcarvings they were forced to make for the Spanish and the Catholic Church. Our guide pointed out that Jesus has Inca facial features, that he is bow legged, that his skin is dark, that next him in the ornamentation are local flowers or hidden symbols of the Quechuan belief system. The Spanish never conquered the Inca they invaded them but could not force the Inca spirit to follow the Christian Faith. Today only about 10% of the population even attends church services, yet many more participate in every festival that celebrates an old Incan ritual. The Incan Empire still exists in Cuzco or as it was pointed out to me, Cosco, since Cuzco in Quechuan is a small barking dog.
The obligatory city tour consisted of the Plaza de Armas, the main Cathedral with its elaborate solid silver altar and gilded to the hilt with 18 Carat gold. Way too much pomp for me yet a must see, naturally.
We next visited a cloister or monastery called Qorikancha, whose walls and some rooms are still pure Inca. These rooms were used as storage rooms by the Spanish but were originally part of the Temple of the Sun God. One room still had an Incan sacrificial stone in its center.
One can still see the traces of the pure gold decorations once present. Originally there were 12 large solid gold plates but 11 of these were melted to decorate the Churches. The gold plate we saw had symbols for the sun, stars, the Milky Way, east/west/north/south directions, a rainbow, a man and a woman, and many others hammered into it.

The masonry work for this Sun temple is of such quality and the carvings so complicated that it defies today’s engineers. The workmanship just cannot be reproduced today. Even with modern equipment. Remember the Inca did not use hammer and chisel like we know them. The Inca pounded rock against rock to form the seamless joints of each stone. I tried to stick a sheet of paper between many joints on the walls, never was I able to penetrate the space between the stones with my paper test. All the stone work is done without any kind of mortar. One stone just sits on top of the next. The walls are almost earthquake proof. Very, very solid and the best masonry work I ever saw. How it was done, nobody knows, the Spanish killed the knowledgeable.
A further stop on the city tour was an archeological site, 2 Km north of Cuzco, called Sacsayhuaman, which translates roughly into city of stone. Construction, ordered by the Inca ruler, Pachacutec, began in 1440 and it took 20,000 workers to build this amazing site. Stones, huge, massive, some weighing in at 361 tons, were used from a location 5 km away. How those huge stones were transported, sometimes up hill is unknown. Yet here the complex stands, evidently the impossible was accomplished. Only 20% of the original complex stands today, the rest of the stones were used as a quarry by the Spanish to build their Churches. Not only were these huge blocks of stone stacked on top of each other but hidden among the many stones are the symbols of their gods. I saw clearly the rabbit and the snake inside this huge, zigzag stone wall. The purpose of this extremely large building site is still under debate. Was it a temple? Was it a fort? Was it a palace? A so-called Inca throne, the Suchuna, is still present today and the site is still used by the Quechua each June 24th for the most famous of Cuzco’s festivals, the Raymi, the festival of the sun, commemorating the winter solstice of the Andean Calendar. The whole area of Cuzco needs time to explore. Carol and I just visited and the few days we had, we used to familiarize ourselves with the most basic knowledge. There is a whole lot more to see if you are deeply interested in the Spanish Conquest, the ill fated Inquisition of the Catholic Church, the way of the Inca or Quechuan or the social aspect of today’s Peru. We just scratched the surface with our short visit and in no way do I assume I am correct in some of my assumptions. I just know too little about any of the facts but I base my comments on feelings and insights I obtained while being here. Yet, I like to point out that I usually have a good sense for what is going on when visiting a country or city. Or more bluntly said, I feel I am right in believing that Cuzco, Cusco is still the heart of the Inca Empire; even though it belongs to Peru.