Pictures by Lyle Such
Words by Thu Buu
At first glance, the buildings on this street seemed so bland and common. They shared one long, flat wall that stretched the length of the block. Here and there, an alcove suggesting the entrance to another business or hotel offered a bit more walking room on the single-file sidewalk. Upon more careful observation, we noticed that beyond the front door of most establishments were rectangular courtyards decorated with plants and flowers, art décor and patio furniture giving each place a pleasant aura of quiet tranquility. Each courtyard was different, but it seems as if each owner took much effort to maintain.
Clean of human litter, this cobbled-stoned street and its sidewalk was dotted with animal feces…dogs. We had only been wandering for a minute or less and had spotted three stray dogs happily trotting along the street. They seemed to have no concern for the humans who share the streets with them. These dogs seem independent, content to find their next meal on their own terms. Dogs really do own this town; they canter on the streets solo or in pairs. They lazily sunbathe just about anywhere they please, in the middle of a busy plaza, completely taking over a sidewalk or on a pile of trash. And the residents of this city just let their four-legged friends be as they wish. Even I was not afraid because of their docile demeanor.
Back to the droppings on the streets. They didn’t belong only to dogs, there must be another animal using the streets of Cusco as a toilet. Up another block and around the bend, we found ourselves in front of a church overlooking the city. On the terrace along the side of the church, which was in a state of repair, two baby alpaca were munching on green grass, one white, one black. Mystery solved! Alpaca poop.
At above 10,000 feet in elevation, the air in Cusco is thinner and altitude sickness is a common worry for many tourists. So it was with our group. Lien felt the headache and pressure in her head for the first day and night. She was so tired she fell asleep on our balcony seat waiting for our breakfast to arrive. Lyle and I both had slight headaches but more from lack of sleep than from the altitude.
Overcome with fatigue, we headed back to the historic Hotel Monasterio around 10:30 to wait for our room. We were happy when told that our room was ready, five hours before check-in. Now that’s good service. With a Cal-king mattress and a fluffy comforter staring us in the face, we all dropped on the bed and in a blink, were consumed by sleep. Outside, the rain had just started its rhythmic pitter-patter against the brick tiled roofs of this sleepy town.
By the time we woke up, the streets were wet, but the rain had dwindled off. After walking the streets and town plazas, we toured the Cathedral of Cusco, which stands prominently on one side of the city’s main center, Plaza de Arms. Built in 1538 after the Spanish conquest, the cathedral is a museum of the city’s history. The walls of the church are covered in enormous colorful canvas paintings. In an act of rebellion against the Spaniards, Incan artists would infuse traditional Catholic symbols with a touch of their native culture. For example, in a painting depicting The Last Supper, the artist painted a roasted guinea pig on the platter at the center of the piece. Guinea pigs were important sacrificial objects in Incan religious ceremonies.
At 8:30 AM, we boarded the Vista Dome, beginning our 3 ½ hour train ride through the countryside of Peru. One of the best foods we had the entire trip was a cold salad of broken grains and chopped carrots served in our small snack box. This grain was hard and cut into tiny discs, translucent in the middle and surrounded by an opaque yellow ring. As Evan would say, “My love it so much.” So much so, that even my ignorance of Spanish did not bar me from asking what the dish was called. “en@#$#%%key^&^*,” was the reply from the attendant. When I asked her to repeat it, she just said, “key^*^*.” From that moment on, I was on a quest to find out what it was and where to get more.
As it turned out, quinoa salad or “ensalade quinoa” was the name of the dish. A couple of times, we spied something made of quinoa on the menu, but they were prepared differently. It was just not the same; we came away disappointed. It was not until we reached Easter Island that we found THE quinoa salad that finally satisfied our cravings. Hallelujah!
Leaving the flatlands behind, we entered the Peruvian rain forest, and within minutes the sky turned an ominous gray. Sure enough, a downpour was let loose as we pulled into the small train station at the town closest to Machu Picchu, Aguas Calientes. A three-minute walk down the main road in the rain and we were at our next dwelling for the night. In spouts, the rain poured. Enough so, that within five minutes of our check-in, the power was out in the whole town.
After cementing our plans for Machu Picchu, our next challenge was to find food. The main street was lined with nothing but restaurants and workers trying to solicit your patronage. It didn’t really matter which restaurant you went to. They all served the same unimpressive mix of tourist foods. Lien’s lasagna was watery and pasta-less. Even better, my empanada sported a thick, long, strand of curly hair meandering among the canned vegetables and cheese. Needless to say, our meals in Aguas Calientes were among the worst meals on this trip.
Back in our hotel, we met our neighbors with whom we shared a balcony. Vanrin and Pete are from New Zealand. What began as a light greeting ended an hour later as twilight approached and candlelight flickered against the walls below us.
The power outage only added to our experience. We were in the jungle. Warm candlelight casting a soft glow around the room felt just right. The sounds of the jungle became more animated, and the river roared even louder as the night became darker. Lyle and I took a short walk in the dark along the river. Orbs of dancing flame glowing atop tables from every restaurant lit our way back. It was a lovely evening.
We left our umbrellas on the porch of the hotel, and they were gone the next day. Thank goodness we still had our $2.00 ponchos.
The transportation service to Machu Picchu from Aguas Calientes was very efficient and easy. There were at least five empty buses parked along the road in front of the ticket booth even this early in the morning. We showed our tickets and were ushered onto the bus. In just a few minutes, our bus was full and ready to take off.
As we climbed higher and higher after each narrow switchback, the view outside the fogged-up windows became more alluring. Interwoven streams of silver clouds danced over verdant mountaintops, twirled their way around bends, and chased each other towards the roaring river below. The view was ever-changing even though we were looking at the same place.
We arrived at the entrance of Machu Picchu at a little past seven. Once we crossed the gates and began our ascent to the main grounds, a giant shroud of gray rushed in, turning the world around us bleak and striking fear in our hearts.
“Oh, PLEASE, don’t rain. Oh, please don’t start raining again.” I implored the universe to heed my prayer as we hastened our pace.
We had passes to begin our climb up the Huayna Picchu between 7AM-8AM. In an effort to maintain and preserve this site, the Peruvian government began regulating the number of visitors (2,500) allowed into the site daily. They also implemented a better system for those who want to hike the mountain peaks adjacent to MP. In doing so, they now admit only 200 hikers onto the trail twice each day and only at certain times. We had to get to the right gate before our time expired.
Without consulting the map, we decided to take a right turn, which led us in the opposite direction of the Huayna Picchu trail. In hindsight, it was a lucky mistake. From this vantage point, we saw the front of MP from across the valley. And from the mountains behind MP, we saw columns and columns of clouds moving in unison down the mountainside and across the sky. As it quickly floated by, the clouds blocked out the sun and covered whole areas in fog. However, the sun was still shining from the clear blue skies above the clouds, alleviating our fear of any impending rain. Indeed, the rain heard my prayers and kept its distance until we were ready to leave.
After posing for a couple pictures, we turned around and head towards the other direction. Our climb up the Huayna Picchu was thankfully accompanied by perfect weather. The view from the top of Huayna Picchu is priceless. And from this position, we can without a doubt see and feel the mystery and lure of this place. Machu Picchu is definitely a true Wonder of the World.
Hidden in the thick of the jungles, perched on top of a tall mountain, surrounded on three sides by a rushing river, and backed by a chain of the Andes Mountains on the fourth side, Machu Picchu was an extraordinary creation of the Incan Empire in the 15th century. With great precision, the Inca cut giant blocks of granite straight from the mountain to build terraces, ramps and walls, in order to tame the cliffs and sustain their livelihood. Because only natural resources were used, Machu Picchu does not dominate its natural environment; on the contrary, it fits in perfectly with its beautiful surroundings.
In 1911, Machu Picchu was unveiled to the outside world by an American historian, Hiram Bingham. Since then, restoration efforts have continued to return Machu Picchu to its original grandeur.
Because of its secluded location, Machu Picchu is a sanctuary for many native animals of this region, including…llamas. They roam the grounds of this site grazing on grass without a care for those nosy humans who are always deliberately standing around them, clicking away on those noisy cameras. These llamas, they’re calm, cool, and collected. Just don’t get in the way of their food, and they won’t spit in your face.
This shot must have been our 5th or 6th try at this spot. With each of the earlier tries, someone would walk into the scene unknowingly, and Lien and I would have to stand at our assigned position until the coast was cleared for another attempt. On this last try, who, but Llama Llama makes an unexpected appearance and pokes his head into our shot. We’ll take it
In the background you can see the peak of Huayna Picchu looming over the ruins of Machu Picchu.
As we were leaving, rainstorms arrived to ruin the latecomers’ day.
Incan descendants have been making clothing, blankets and many other useful articles from wool and alpaca fur for centuries. To wash the dirty fur, the sacha paraqay root is grated and mixed with water to form a foamy natural detergent. Just a quick rub in this solution turns the dark, muddy wool bright, white, and clean. To dye the wool, they use only natural resources such as purple corn, parasites found on cactus, and various vibrant flowers. And then with a dab of salt or a splash of lime, they expertly change the color of the wool from rusty orange to ocean blue or dirt brown to bright red.
Chincheros is a small Inca village outside of Cusco that was taken over by the Spaniards during the Spanish Conquest. In order to destroy the old culture and instill Spanish values, the Spaniards transformed the Inca temple into a Catholic church, remodeling the façade of each building to resemble Spanish architecture of that era.
After a major earthquake in this area, the weaker Spanish architecture fell, unveiling the older yet more stable foundation built by the Inca. Their mastery of masonry skills is still evident in these walls. The Incan hand-chipped boulders and rocks of all sizes into polygons that fit snugly, one block on top of another without the use of any type of mortar to glue these stones together. The walls are lasting, functional pieces of art in their own right.
During the rebuilding of their village, the Peruvians retained the Incan foundation. They reconstructed the rest of the building on top. This artistic style is now copied in many newer buildings all around Cusco and in Peru.
Natural sinkholes appear in the Peruvian countryside. Ingenious Incan engineers used this site as an agricultural experiment. They built circular terraces within the sinkhole. Each concentric circle was a micro-environment apart from the levels above or below it. Channels were built to conduct water into the middle of the circle, turning it into a synthetic pond. The natural cycle of evaporation and condensation provided each circle with different amounts of moisture and heat daily. Each layer was a testing field for different species of plant. Here over 60 varieties of corn were grown and experimented on
Each terrace was roughly 6 feet high. The challenge was to climb to the top without using your hands for support. Because the steps were so far apart, this proved more difficult for some of us.
One of the most striking and least expected surprises for us was the stark beauty of the Peruvian Andean countryside. In one direction, patches of green, yellow and brown woven between streaks of red earth stretched for miles and miles beneath an endless blue sky. An ocean of boiling white clouds above was a delightful feast for the eyes. In the other direction, the flat plains comes to an abrupt halt as it crashes right into the middle of the rugged Andean mountain, whose strong jagged peaks reach far up to the heavens and are hidden among the clouds. At other places, the earth stops and falls straight down into a dark valley. On the other side of the valley, extremely steep slopes shoot themselves out of the abyss with such immense power. The intensity of the interplay between the natural elements here can only be felt.
This is a salt mine carved into the side of the mountain. Warm, salty water originating from springs above runs through the mountain and spills out the side in the form of a small brook. The locals use this water to cultivate salt through a natural process. As the water evaporates, it leaves behind salt crystals on the surface.
There are four grades of salt. The purest is used for human consumption, but most of the harvest is exported. The locals use the less pure salt. The lowest grades are used for animals and local products such as soap.
We visited this salt mine during the low season. At the busiest time of year, every inch of surface is covered in thick white clusters of salt, resembling a winter wonderland.
