Living in Peru : your everyday companion

Old and strong bridges, such as the Pachachaca, lie over the sinuous forms of the turbulent rivers that furiously break into the cordillera.

(LIP-wb) -- Like a good child of the Apurímac ("the god who speaks"), Abancay has a lot to say. This regional capital is an archetypal representation of that beggar sitting on a golden stool, the metaphor for Peru immortalized by Antonio Raimondi.

Located in the southern zone of the Peruvian Andes, it is an area of geographical caprices, where green hills are met by rocky mountains and the snowcapped peaks of the Ampay National Sanctuary. It is a territory of serpentine pathways where natural and architectural jewels are hidden and babbling rivers suddenly roar into life.

In Apurímac the cows are not fat. Despite the fact that this department, buried deep in the highlands of southern Peru, boasts lush countryside and a noble past, it has still not found a way to shake off the burden of being labeled the second poorest place in Peru.

Delicious dishes are presented temptingly to satisfy the most discriminating palates. Food from Abancay is renowned for its tastiness.

Where poverty exists it tends to rule. Even the capital, Abancay, is not spared. In Quechua, the city’s name means "a beautiful flower without fragrance". A perfect description and a worthy name for this bucolic land where one can breathe in the atmosphere of melancholy.

To journey along Abancay’s twists and turns, where a variety of different ecosystems exist, one must have guts, to say the least. Before beginning such an adventure it is absolutely necessary to charge one’s batteries with reserve oxygen and make space for an extra dose of adrenaline. The lack of adequate roads means that the route to any tourist attraction is a long and difficult one.

However, all discomfort disappears when human eyes rest on the sublime. Which is an infallible recipe for forgetting that to get to this paradise one must travel overland, for at least six hours (if one is arriving from Cusco), or up to eighteen hours from Lima, via Nasca, Puquio and Chalhuanca.

To enter into contact with the geography of Abancay is like receiving a slap in the face. There is no point in expecting a warm welcome in a rugged land. This place molded the indomitable Chancas into a warrior army that almost defeated the Incas back in pre-Columbian days!

The streets of Abancay are narrow and steep, an extraordinary succession of slopes that tend to overflow with jubilation during carnival in February and March. The city’s climate – warm during the day and not too cold at night – means that one can visit the area at any time of year. But, despite the good weather and the beautiful scenery, tourists are rare in this part of the world.


A sprinkling of beauty on the road to the canyon

Impressive stone remnant in Sayhuiti that presents a model. It represents different scenes of nature, topography, and customs of the Empire of the Sun.

The local authorities go to great lengths to promote adventure sports in their native land like paragliding and mountain biking, and the wealth of opportunities for whitewater rafting attracts canoeing enthusiasts from all over the world.
 
Along the Apurímac’s course, several beautiful sights are to be found. At the beginning of the trip the Ampay National Sanctuary appears in the distance, a majestic snowy peak flanked by hills covered in a thick carpet of vegetation. This white mountain is the city’s guardian, or Apu. It is said that on the path to its summit there are forests of intimpas or "trees of the sun", plants which closely resemble the pine trees that we associate with Christmas. It is the only type of American conifer in danger of extinction.

There are more than 500 species of plant in this region. There also exist twelve kinds of mammal, one hundred bird species and two kinds of reptile.

Religión is in the air in Abancay. From childhood on, its inhabitants participate in rituals full of faith.

To the right of this nature reserve lays a chain of immaculate white mountains that include Salkantay among their number. It is as if God, in a moment of carelessness, let the clouds of heaven rest upon the tops of these immense mountains forever.

Almost breathless – from both the excitement and the altitude – we continue on our way. Heading towards the Apurimac river one passes an ordinary-looking road which leads to a treasure carved in stone. It is easy to get to Saywite, an ancient Inca administrative centre some 47 kilometers from Abancay, thanks to a single track access road.

On getting out of our vehicle we are faced with a rock measuring about four meters in diameter, upon which the ancient inhabitants of the area – who were highly-skilled engineers – carved a model of the empire of Tawantinsuyo. The stone, upon which images of flora, fauna and the topography and customs of the empire of the sun were traced, was used in ceremonies dedicated to the worship of water.

Among immense and fierce mountains, the Apurimac river offers us fun full of adrenaline in its waters.

Just a few meters away, along the vestiges of a road built by the Incas, one descends along a stairway carved from the living rock to a stone platform, where other similar rock outcrops lie scattered across the grass in what amounts to an archaeological park.

Saywite fades from view but not from our memories, and as we speed towards the highway a sweet, refreshing smell reaches us – a sure sign that we are approaching Curahuasi, the world capital of aniseed.

The locals inform us that ten hours on foot from the nearby village of Cachora, along a difficult trail, are the ruins of Choquequirao (in Quechua "Golden Cradle"), the final refuge of the children of the sun and, according to many archaeologists, comparable with Machu Picchu. Getting there is an exhausting task which few travelers undertake.

Continuing along the highway, we pass the medicinal hot springs of Cconoc, far below the road on the banks of the Apurimac river, where many come from as far away as Cusco and Abancay to bathe.

The waters surge and roar in the Apurimac canyon, one of the deepest in the world.

After more than three hours we finally arrive at the Apurimac river. Standing on its bank one is straddling the border between the departments of Apurimac and Cusco. Immense ravines and colossal mountains shape the anatomy of this untamed canyon, a geological fault which at its deepest point measures just over three thousand meters. It is a magnificent spectacle that hypnotizes and intimidates those who come to this region to raft the river.

The climate of this region is warm. Temperatures fluctuate between 16 and 28 degrees centigrade. Happily, the access road is in a good state of repair.

Starting at the San Francisco bridge, a long footpath emerges in the heart of the canyon, where we discover that over the green torrent of the Apurímac river the gods do indeed roar. And with all their might.

Condor above, bull below

Text: Fernando Reyes Quincho         Photos: Corporación Backus

Violent encounter of two emblematic animals: the condor, paladin of the Andean cosmos, and the bull, the symbol of the hispanic world.

The customs of the Peruvian people take many forms. Merrymaking and music are always present. But sometimes violence, too, forms part of the general atmosphere of joy. Turupuqllay, or Yawar Fiesta, a celebration typical of the Apurímac region, in southern Peru, gives ample evidence of this apparent contradiction. This event, which takes place towards the end of July, portrays the violent meeting of two emblematic animals: the condor, paladin of the Andean cosmos, and the bull, the symbol of the Hispanic world.

Are these two animals the real protagonists of Turupuqllay? What inspires the inhabitants of this community to tie a ferocious condor to a strong bull and then watch it tear lumps of flesh from the animal’s back? Fun? Insanity? A manifestation of their mestizo culture? A meeting, or a conflict, between two cultures? Nobody knows. Not even José María Arguedas, prime mover of the Indigenist Movement, was able to form a satisfactory answer to this central question in his novel Yawar Fiesta.

Locked in its pen, calm and indifferent, a huge bull, with enormous eyes and a well-cared-for coat, flicks away the insects with its tail. It looks satisfied. For months now, its owner has been giving it very special treatment. It feels important. It knows that it has been chosen to take part in a transcendental moment, and it feels a deep pride. The poor thing. It does not know what is about to happen.

The condor, prepared for the occasion, looks vigorous before the mortal combat.

Its partner for the ceremony of Turupuqllay ("The game with the bull"), on the other hand, enters the town through the main gate, carried by several villagers. The committee entrusted with the task of borrowing a condor from the Apus, or mountain gods, has been successful. Guided by an Andean priest, the locals went deep into the mountains for several days, climbing beyond five thousand meters, in order to capture a condor without harming it.

The triumphant entrance of the great bird begins the celebration. The local authorities, who preside over the fiesta, give their approval and instantly the atmosphere becomes charged with cane alcohol and jubilation. The music offered up by the musicians can be heard on the farthest mountains, and the townspeople let themselves be swept away by the occasion. This same scene has been acted out here in the Apurímac since colonial times.

After several days of revelry, it is finally time for the animals to be united. And, as in years gone by, their union will not be a peaceful one. The condor is tied to the bull’s back using rings which leave its claws and beak free to tear chunks of flesh from its adversary. Meanwhile, the event’s spectators, possessed by drink, launch themselves into the arena, in a mocking imitation of adroit Spanish bullfighters.

The customs of the Peruvian people take many forms.

Its bleeding wounds enrage the animal, and the intense pain makes it leap like a wild horse. It vents its fury on anything that crosses its path. The chorus of "oles" reverberates around the bullring, pausing each time a drunken villager is savaged by the bull.

The day always ends in the same manner. The bull is given an honorable burial, while the condor is returned to the Apus in perfect health. And woe betides the community if that precious son of the gods has come to any harm! Terrible misfortunes will rain down upon the region that year.

And that is how this fiction of the triumph of the Andean world over the Spanish is acted out. It is, without a doubt, a form of catharsis for all the years of foreign domination and, perhaps, a reaffirmation of their own culture. But perhaps a long look in the mirror is what is needed today from mestizo Peru. After all, this country is now no longer a Spanish colony.

The triumphal entrance of the condor, in the arms of town authorities, is an omen for the result of the encounter.