Living in Peru : your everyday companion

Flags representing Peru and the Tahuantinsuyo flutter at the head of hordes of pilgrims who have flocked from the Cuzco highlands to the Sinakara Valley near Mount Ausangate, to take part in one of the largest religious festivals in South America: the Festival of the Lord of Qoyllur Rit’i or the Snowstar.

We press on at dawn. The track rises and falls, a bone-jarring hike that has us sweating despite temperatures hovering below 5°C. The trail runs for a stiff 8 km, four hours of exhausting trudging from the village of Mahuayani to Qolquepunco, near Mount Ausangate.

It is the land of soaring peaks, biting winds and glacial highland plains dotted with the odd clump of spiky ichu grass. The trail winds past wayside crosses and stone cairns, until we reach the natural basin of Sinakara, at 4,800 meters. Our hearts are pounding. Time for one last sip of coca tea, and it’s up to the top.

From there, the view is staggering. Hundreds, possibly thousands of tents spread across the slopes of Sinakara and Qolquepunco, like a vast settlement studding the plain that stretches between the two sacred mountains.

This is a camp for pilgrims who have flocked here from all over the Peruvian Andes. From Canchis, Paucartambo, Quispicanchi. From the departments of Apurímac, Puno and Ayacucho. From the furthermost towns and villages of the southern highlands, these pilgrims have come here in single file to keep alive a form of worship that has survived over the course of centuries.

This is the pilgrimage in honor of Taitacha Qoyllur Rit’i, the Lord of the Snowstar.

A child touched the Heavens

Catholic tradition has it that a shepherd boy named Marianito Mayta was the first to glimpse the miraculous appearance of Jesus Christ on the slopes of Sinakara back in 1870. Christ allegedly appeared in the shape of a blond child dressed in silk robes who spent the chilly afternoons with the shepherd boy near the mountain, helping him in his task and sharing his food.

The villagers of Ocongate, led by their parish priest, were to turn the apparition into a legend. When the villagers went looking for the Christ child, they found only a tayanca tree shaped like a cross, similar to the image worshipped at the church in Tayankani. The image of the face of Christ then appeared on the bluffs where the incident is said to have occurred, and the features were later painted in.

This is the official history behind the worship of Qoyllur Rit’i. The other version, which the local farmers and shepherds know by heart in the Cuzco highlands, dates back well before the arrival of christianism and has survived until today in the form of an underground spring from which the pilgrims drink between May and June, after the harvest.

Highland communities are fervent in their devotion to their apu, the guardian spirits of the mountains. It is a passion that sends huge groups of pilgrims on foot over mind-boggling distances, marching in step to the Andean bands as far as Sinakara. There, the pilgrims reach out their hands and touch the skies, and send their prayers on high, beseeching favors from the apu spirits.

In the kingdom of chaos

The pilgrims, grouped together in communities, have been arriving in Sinakara since Friday. The ritual is always the same. At the end of the trail, before descending to the valley, the troupes of dancers don their multi-colored costumes, the “pablitos” or “ukukus” put on their wool masks and set off dancing in the direction of the church. There they will pay their respects to Taita Qoyllur Rit’i before heading off to the Sacred Rock, to worship the tiny image of the Virgin of Fátima.

Our tent has been pitched in the middle of the camp on the damp meadows where the rest of the year the livestock graze. From here, one can gaze upon the chaos that is playing out across the entire esplanade. The dancers sway past the shrine, while the pilgrims form endless queues to enter the church. The vendors cry their wares, and the pablitos spin around in circles on all sides, whip in hand to ensure no one treats the Lord of the Snows with disrespect.

The neighboring tents give off clouds of smoke, heralding dinnertime. A handful of tourists from who knows where pass by blasé, hats tipped back and cigarette dangling from their lips.

There are scowls amongst the pilgrims at this irreverence: “they shouldn’t come to the shrine if they’re not going to show respect,” said one. For several years now, the communities involved have been debating the possibility of moving the shrine to another valley, making access much more difficult, to discourage cityfolk from coming.

When the communities arrive, they bear their crosses in a procession to the snowy heights of Sinakara, where they leave them until dawn on Tuesday, when the pablitos descend once more. The pablitos are mythical beings, half-human, half-bear for some, and half-alpaca for others. They hike down from the mountain heights bearing blocks of ice on their backs which, when melted, will be served as Holy water for the faithful along the way.

Before that, on Monday morning, Mass is held by the parish priest of Ocongate. The pablitos stride around, lashing those who fail to show their respect for the Lord and doff their hats. In the afternoon, the faithful hold the procession of the Lord of Tayankani, an image which has been brought from its community during a trek lasting several hours, to receive another homage.

The secret society

The nights are literally freezing here in Sinakara. Temperatures can plunge below -5°C, and our sleeping bags do little to keep our body heat from evaporating with every breath we take. The nights are cold and long, but apparently not so for the dancers and pablitos, who since sundown have been climbing up to Sinakara by community to carry out their secret rituals.

There is a great deal of speculation about this mysterious society of the Andean pablitos. It is said that the initiation rites carried out in the snowy wastes are extremely tough, and the chosen must have nerves of steel. They move around with a grim mien during the festival; they are in charge of maintaining order, and also the ones to bring the Holy water down from the glacier for the pilgrims.

On Tuesday morning, the pablitos hike down from Sinakara carrying huge blocks of ice on their backs. By then, the Q’eros have already arrived in Sinakara. The Q’eros are a hermetic community who live in the upper reaches of Paucartambo, maintaining no contact with Western civilization. Their rites include greeting Christ at the shrine, but focus on rendering homage to the apu spirits. For them, the celebration is only just getting underway.

By mid-morning, the Mass begins, extending a blessing to the faithful. The area around the shrine is packed with people; the “alasita” market is doing a booming trade. Alasitas are small objects, like toys, in the shape of cars, houses, money, or representing marriage anything else that could be requested of the Lord of Qoyllur Rit’i. The parish priest blesses these objects and the faithful trust the deity to comply.

Mass draws to an end. The tents have been packed away, and the children wait for their parents before heading home. The communities of Paucartambo and Quispicanchi will bear the image of the Lord of Tayankani in a procession back to the church where it is kept, a procession that will not arrive until the following night. In Yanacancha, the faithful will watch the sunrise and press on to Ocongate, where the “guerrilla”, the ritual battle, will be waged between qollas and chunchos, traditionally-dressed dancers. This marks the end of the festival, on the Thursday of Corpus Christi.

The tourists, ourselves included, take down our tents and also start the return trip to Mahuayani. The genuine pilgrims watch us go with evident relief. The festival is becoming more and more like a fair, and every year, new waves of cityfolk flock here, building more and more constructions around the shrine.

This is why the true believers in Qoyllur Rit’i will leave, heading beyond the mountains of Paucartambo, to the truly inaccessible wilds, out of reach of strangers and their aggressive cameras. The shrine may be moved there, and that is when the Lord of Qoyllur Rit’i would finally be theirs alone, the protector of the farmers and shepherds of the Cuzco highlands, living in harmony alongside the apu, the age-old gods of the mountains that still rule these lands.