SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 2018
GETTING TO KNOW CUZCO: GLORIOUS CAPITAL OF THE INCAS
Still on a subdued note, we awoke after a sleepless night following the tragic illness of our friend Mukaram still in a hospital in Lima. I had a terrible migraine that kept me up half the night with a splitting headache and very morbid thoughts during which all I did was pray for him. It turned out that neither Llew nor Chriselle had slept very well.
Breakfast in our hotel was slightly more modest than the one we had enjoyed at Suites Larco in Lima. The fact that we had no hot running water in the sink and no heating in our room in the middle of an Andean winter was pretty challenging of our travel tolerance levels. Still, there was no way we could improve the situation—we could merely make the best of it. Hence, we made a meal of toast, bread, cold cuts, fresco blanco (Andean cottage cheese), cereal, juice, and coffee. From a call that Llew made to ascertain the arrival of our pick up van for sightseeing, we also realized that our city sightseeing tour would begin only in the afternoon. With the morning free to spend as we fancied, we chose to do a walking tour of Cuzco. With mugs of warming coca tea to help us overcome altitude fatigue and sickness, we set off. Chriselle was already feeling the effects of altitude sickness and found her energy sapped. Both she and Llew took prescribed medication to combat it while I made do with coca tea that I found very welcome. I also chewed dried coca leaves.
A Walking Tour of Cuzco:
We decided to reverse our wandering of the previous evening and made our way to the area called Las Blas to the Church of San Blas. We sauntered through narrow streets, lined with stone walls and cobbles and vividly painted cobalt-blue doors, to arrive at the Square of San Blas which wore a completely different look to the previous night’s.
The Church of San Blas:
It was Sunday, but Mass in the church only occurred once a day in the evening. However, I did choose to pay the 10 sols it took to enter the church. I spent about 15 minutes in prayer and in appreciation of the striking interior that was simply packed with medieval frescoes, an ornate gilded reredos(main altar) in the Spanish style and its highlight—a magnificent wooden carved pulpit that was intricately created by a Quechua artist called Tupac Yapanqui.
The Museum of Coca:
On the Square of San Blas, there was a poster announcing a free museum to the Coca Leaf that is both sacred and medicinal to the Quechua people. Up a narrow staircase, we found several little rooms that took us through the botanical and historical features of the plant that the rest of the world has converted into the dreaded substance called cocaine. Chewing the coca leaves and drinking tea made by steeping its leaves in hot water, is known to alleviate symptoms related to altitude sickness. We drank quite a bit of it during our time in Cuzco. There is also a shop attached to the museum, but we found little to purchase. In the neighboring shop, Chriselle bought a number of friendship bracelets woven by the Quechua who use traditional handmade looms to fashion them.
On to the Plaza des Armas:
A side street led down to the main square of Cuzco, the Plaza des Armas, where we found a great deal of activity under way. On the stage that was erected in the front of the Cathedral, there were a number of Cuzco dignitaries clad in their traditional garb of striped ponchos in rich earth colors watching a march past of what looked like soldiers. There was a loud marching band in attendance and crowds of people thronging the area. As we had to return to our hotel for the sightseeing pick-up, we used our map to find our way back. En route we stopped at a Chifa or Chinese restaurant to taste the blend of Chinese cuisine with Peruvian about which our guide in Lima had informed us. Frankly, we found it no different from Chinese food we have eaten in other parts of the world—we had Beef with Vegetables, Shrimp Tempura and Chicken with Noodles. However, since we had barely 20 minutes in which to wolf down our lunch, we requested that our noodles be packed up. A few minutes later, we were back in our hotel lobby awaiting the arrival of our transport.
A City Tour of Cuzco:
The pick-up van that came to our hotel merely transported us off the main square called Plaza des Armas where we discovered, to our astonishment, that the march past had given way to a full-scale parade with every imaginable float proclaiming aspects of Peruvian culture in general and Cuzco culture in particular. Thousands of people had filled the square and the variety of costumes in which they were clad made for fabulous photo opportunities. In Plaza San Marti, the van stopped and we were told to follow a guide to the meeting point where another English-speaking guide would shepherd us on the tour.
And that was when chaos occurred. Our guide was very short and attempting to follow her was a Herculean task. Also, the temptation to stop at every turn and take pictures was great as we would never have another opportunity like this—to capture the Cuzco people at their most colorful. It turns out that they were celebrating the Festival of Cuzco which, literally, goes on for a while month. On this particular Sunday, floats representing Peruvian folk lore with references to its literature, legends, foods, etc. were on display. The size and quality of the floats had to be seen to be believed. People flooded the main square and bands of various kinds struck up all manner of Peruvian music. It was truly a slice of Peruvian life that was ours for the viewing. But sadly, it was also an opportunity for losing one’s group members—and that was precisely what happened to Chriselle. As she paused to video tape something, she lost sight of the group leader. Trying to find her was like searching for a needle in the proverbial haystack. Long story short, it took at least 20 minutes to reconnect with her and we managed to do so only by sheer luck. When Llew eventually found her, the group wound its way through the colonnaded arches of the grand Plaza or Plaza des Armas and reached the front of Cuzco Cathedral. The noise was deafening but we managed to connect with the English-speaking guide named Jenny who would lead us on a tour of the city for the rest of the afternoon.
Inside Cuzco Cathedral:
The twin spires of Cuzco Cathedral, with its distinctive Gothic facade, dominates the Plaza des Armas. We had to purchase a ticket for 25 sols to enter—after which we were ushered into one of the side chapels that was gorgeous. The altar was gilded and its two side altars were fixed with an abundance of mirrors to reflect the statues of the Virgin Mary in her splendor and to increase the light that fell upon her. This, however, turned out to be only one aspect of the tour. When Jenny led us through a side entrance to the main body of the Cathedral, we were simply floored by what we saw. First of all, the dimensions of the interior were astounding. There were dozens of side chapels or Lady chapels and each was more elaborate than the next. Paintings covered the walls, Gothic fan vaulting decorated the ceiling and held the structure in place and heavy Baroque pillars in granite lent solidity to the design. We were taken from one side chapel to the next and told a little bit about the history of the Cathedral. It was, obviously, built by the Spaniards who arrived with their proselytizing zeal following the conquest of Peru by Pissarro. Systematic inquisitions, as is common in other parts of the world where Christianity was forcibly introduced, led to mass-conversions of the people and the annihilation of Incan culture and civilization as well as the deaths of thousands of slaves involved in the construction of the Cathedral.
The highlights of the Cathedral are the exquisite wooden carved choir stalls that feature the saints in stylish Renaissance Spanish garb. Right opposite is the main altar that is entirely made of silver—silver being one of the precious metals that was plentifully mined in Peru and that also caused the suffering of countless native slaves. Silver altar vessels and palanquins to hoist saints on ceremonial days abounded in another side chapel. It simply beggars description and reminded us very much of the grand altars we saw in the cathedrals of Spain. Cuzco Cathedral is dedicated to our Lady of the Ascension and is a fine example of what Spaniard fervor did to native peoples of South America. There is a wonderful Jesuit Church adjacent to the Cathedral which we did not enter, but doubtless it too would have proclaimed a similar cultural metamorphosis brought about by the Inquisition.
The Church of Coricancha and the Monastery of St. Dominic:
When our tour of the Cathedral was done, Jenny led us on foot through the colonial corners of the city towards another landmark church whose skyline with its distinctive dome dominates the city. Here too, we were required to purchase tickets that cost us 20 sols each. This is the arresting Church of Coricancha that is distinctive for the fact that it represents the very best of both Inca and European architecture.
This venue was absolutely packed to the gills. Hundreds of tour groups milled around, each led by a tour guide as this is the only way one can explore the interior. Jenny explained that the site was chosen by the Inca chief Pachacutek, who was known to be the most industrious architect of the Incas, and was responsible for building most of the remaining monuments in the country. Inca architecture (or the remnants of it, those not knocked down by the many earthquakes to which the country has been subjected) is evident in the original black volcanic stone walls of the city that are superbly crafted in incredibly symmetrical cut stone blocks placed one above the other without the use of mortar. There are niches in the walls that suggest it was a holy place used for the display of the various deities that made up the pantheon of Inca gods and goddesses for it was a polytheistic religion they followed, based on the elements and aspects of nature. Iconography relating to the three sections of creation—the underworld, earth and the heavens—is evident everywhere as manifested through symbols of snakes, condors, pumas, etc.
However, once the Spaniards arrived, they began a pogrom that destroyed Inca culture and religion and replaced it with Christianity. Not even they, though, could bring themselves to destroy Inca architecture for its integrity was so impressive that they retained the original walls of the structure and built their Baroque monastery around it. In fact, the Church is dedicated to St. Dominic, founder of the Dominican order of Catholic monks who dwelled within its walls, and built their beautiful cloisters in front of the Inca structure. When we stepped on to a wide balcony of sorts, we had brilliant views of colonial Cuzco with its uniformly designed off-white adobe walls and red-tiled roofs. We could also see the gardens that the monks would have originally tended—today they are only for leisure.
Overall, I could see why the Church of Coricancha is such a draw and such a major attraction in Cuzco. It really synthesizes all the layers of cultures and civilizations that make up the Andean corner of Peru to which the maximum number of tourists flock.
Archeological Sites in Cuzco—Saqsaywaman, Quengo and Pukukara:
From this point on, we returned to our van to begin our exploration of sites outside of Cuzco. There were three of them—but the one at Saqsaywaman is certainly the most important and the best-known. By the time we reached the first venue, the sun’s setting rays filled the Western sky. We found ourselves on a wide plain that was ringed by giant black volcanic Inca stones rising in tiers and accessed through stairways also made of stone. Jenny’s explanation covered aspects of Inca culture and Pachacutek’s vision; but her accent was so heavy that I only really got about 20% of what she said. Suffice it to say, that the Inca obsession with the sun and its progression across the sky and around the earth was evident in the construction and placement of the temples that make up this complex. There is a large marble-white statue of Christ perched on one of the hills facing the city—reminiscent of the Christo Redemptor sculpture at Corcovado in Rio de Janerio in Brazil—but on a much smaller scale.
Our next stop was Quengo where emphasis on the puma was evident in the giant stone sculpture that all visitors stop to see. At the Summer Solstice each year, shadows cast by the sun’s rays passing though the sculpture imitate the profile of a puma.
Finally, we went to Pukukara where darkness had fallen and made it difficult for us to see those aspects of Inca culture that are of contemporary significance.
By this time, we were all exhausted. We had lost one of the participants of our group, an Austrian man named Johannes, who was most annoyed at having been left behind at Saqsaywaman and whom we set out to find—thereby losing about 45 minutes of our tour.
We finally ended our city tour with a visit to a Textile Weaving Center where we were introduced to the native artisans who produce marvelous items of clothing using alpaca fur which is supposed to be the softest and warmest fur. We had a quick look at the wares and were back on the bus again, ready to call it a day.
Jenny dropped us back to the main square which had calmed down considerably with most of the afternoon’s crowds having dissipated. There were still singers and dancers at every corner but at least we were not overwhelmed. We shopped for a mug from Starbucks for our friend Ian as well as the little souvenirs that Chriselle wished to take home as gifts and the magnets and postcards that we usually buy from every venue.
We then hailed a cab and found our way back to our hotel where, since we had carried back the Chicken and Noodles of our Chinese lunch, we were able to finish in the dining room on the fifth floor of our hotel. It was not long before we returned to our freezing rooms for showers and to find out from our friend Shahnaz how our friend Mukarram was doing. Sadly, he showed no change and the prognosis looked bleak. All we could do was end our day in prayer for him and those closest to him who were keeping vigil by his unconscious body.
Until manana, adios...
No comments:
Post a Comment