It is summer solstice and there will be a very fun and celebratory parade today, in Santa Barbara, California. Winter solstice here. I wake early this morning to the sounds of snoring all around me. Lying in bed quietly, I listen awhile to Suzi’s soft snoring beside me. It is a beautiful morning; the air is crisp and the sky is a perfectly clear cerulean blue. Others begin to stir, and soon Suzi awakens, too. I pull on layers of clothes that will be peeled off as the sun rises higher. One of the cooks comes to our tent to ask if I would like a mug of hot coca de matte. “Si,” I gratefully say, “Muchos gracias” while unzipping the tent to reach for the hot elixir. Warmed on the inside, I venture out, greeting others as I head to the bathroom to wash up.
A Morning Wedding
After a cooked breakfast of hot cereal, Suzi and I pack up our things and break down our tent. Some of us help gather flowers and ceremonial items for this morning’s wedding in another of the Circles. The Q’ero help dress the bride and groom in traditional mastanas of finely woven cloth and beaded hat. They are resplendent in their finery and so very joyful in their love for each other. Like Pan, Francesco leads the way while playing a recorder. I am asked to photograph. Once we all arrive Alberto opens sacred space. Each medicine person bestows blessings on the couple, and doña Berna throws coca leaves. Her reading is powerful and speaks both to the couple’s shared love and the challenges they face to stay present for each other so they create a fully conscious union. The groom’s vows are passionate and loving. He pledges his love forever. The bride, in turn, speaks powerfully about her love and commitment to her betrothed, as well as her vision for their relationship. Each of their words ring authentically and bring tears to many of our eyes. After rings are exchanged, Alberto blesses their union, and a receiving line forms to wish them the very best, now and forever. No one wants to leave, even after sacred space is closed, so much love is held in this Circle. Instead, we take our cue from the surroundings and form our own circle around the bride and groom and dance in celebration!
A Morning Wedding
After a cooked breakfast of hot cereal, Suzi and I pack up our things and break down our tent. Some of us help gather flowers and ceremonial items for this morning’s wedding in another of the Circles. The Q’ero help dress the bride and groom in traditional mastanas of finely woven cloth and beaded hat. They are resplendent in their finery and so very joyful in their love for each other. Like Pan, Francesco leads the way while playing a recorder. I am asked to photograph. Once we all arrive Alberto opens sacred space. Each medicine person bestows blessings on the couple, and doña Berna throws coca leaves. Her reading is powerful and speaks both to the couple’s shared love and the challenges they face to stay present for each other so they create a fully conscious union. The groom’s vows are passionate and loving. He pledges his love forever. The bride, in turn, speaks powerfully about her love and commitment to her betrothed, as well as her vision for their relationship. Each of their words ring authentically and bring tears to many of our eyes. After rings are exchanged, Alberto blesses their union, and a receiving line forms to wish them the very best, now and forever. No one wants to leave, even after sacred space is closed, so much love is held in this Circle. Instead, we take our cue from the surroundings and form our own circle around the bride and groom and dance in celebration!
By the time we make our way back up to the plateau, the bus and van are packed and ready to go. A last bathroom stop and we’re off. Today, I opt to join the Q’ero and a few others in the small van. Blissful from the wedding and slightly tired from the dancing, doña Berna and I cuddle together. |
Retracing our route, we spot a woman weaving on the side of the road. Beautiful mastanas are spread along the road edge for sale, too tempting not to stop. After admiring her work I buy one of the smaller cloths. We are left off at the village of Maras. From here we hike down from the Chinchero Plateau to the Urubamba River Valley below — about fives miles. |
Higher in the sky, the sun is hot and the air is dusty. A few of us create a good, steady pace as we continue to acclimatize for our trek to Ausangate, which begins tomorrow. At first, the image of the woman weaving along the side of the road haunts me. Like a shuttle carrying thread across a loom — my mind goes back and forth. |
Slowly, fragments of other images surface from the wedding, just a few hours ago. Then, little by little the “warp” and “weft” that make up my life’s tapestry begin to reveal themselves. Last night's ceremony at Moray parted veils allowing me to see that my "warp" has been my masculine nature — strong, clearly focused and resolute — the structure that holds and gives context to my life. |
I see, too, that it is my feminine nature that forms the “weft,” the very outward expression of who I am. It is a rich and complex design from the many different hues (experiences), textures (emotions), and materials (people) that have metaphorically been woven into my life story. And, it is only when these two are joined through cooperation and collaboration that union (wholeness) is created.
The hours and miles pass quickly. Besides getting further in shape for our expedition, this hike takes us past a salt mine that has been in production since Inka times. The mine is divided into many plots, family owned and operated. On closer inspection, I see family insignias or brands etched into the salt designating ownership. |
A series of gravity fed irrigation canals run between the plots that allow water to dissolve the salts that later dry in the sun. Family members — men and women — harvest the salt and shovel it into burlap sacks that are carried to waiting mules that transport it to their owners’ homes for personal use, barter or sale.
At the bottom of the steep canyon is a community cemetery with several crypt-like structures. I have always been drawn to cemeteries, particularly rural ones that tend to place photographs of the deceased on the grave markers and are decorated with flowers and personal mementos. Some of my favorite cemeteries are found in Appalachia and small Italian villages. Wistfully, I walk past. There is no time to explore this sacred resting place now. |
Around the bend I become aware of a moving bush. On closer inspection, it is actually a man carrying a large load of corn stalks on his back. I feel pleasantly fatigued, as if from a full-day of activity as I cross the suspension bridge that spans the Urubamba River. Relaxing in the shade, it is another 30 minutes for everyone to gather and the vehicles to arrive to take us to the fortress town of Ollyataytambo. Ollantaytambo Ollantaytambo lies at the northern end of the Sacred Valley, and provides an access route to the Amazon jungle. This fortress town is named after General Ollantay. |
Constructed on a hillside and surrounded by a high wall, the original Inka architecture and aqueduct system have been preserved. I learn there were originally two entrances to the fortress, now only one remains, as does a building ramp showing evidence of how the fortress was constructed. The palace and temple are located at the site’s center, while the soldier’s barricades and a solar observatory are situated on the hillside above. |
The most exquisite stonework, though unfinished, is found at the Temple of the Sun. On one side stand seven rose-colored granite monoliths that some scientists believe were not mined in this valley. If true, then how were these enormous slabs of stone brought here? “Some scientists believe the stone used at Ollyantaytambo,” Marco tells me while pointing across the Valley, “comes from a quarry on the other side of the Urubamba River.” Then pointing at several faintly visible carvings, I am told these are original, dating back to the time of the Inka, and are believed to represent the puma.
From here, looking back towards town, I see mountainsides dotted with Inka storehouses. Marco shows me a book that details a portion of that mountain’s profile that amazingly looks very much like drawings of Manco Inka.
As a military fortification, Ollyataytambo was so well designed that it held Hernando Pizarro and his men back when they came to capture and execute Manco Inka in 1536. The Spanish chroniclers wrote that Manco Inka’s men diverted the Patcaucha River through its canals, then opened floodgates to flood the plains just as the Spanish were making their crossing. Pizarro and his men subsequently fled to Cuzco where they recruited additional soldiers and returned to find that Marco Inka had fled to Vilcabamba where he was eventually killed.
The Wedding Feast
Our next stop is lunch, or more specifically, the wedding feast. As always, I am famished, and it has been many hours and miles hiked since breakfast. One cannot live on power bars alone! The feast takes place nearby at property owned by the Four Winds Society. Hidden behind a tall, corrugated metal wall it is approximately two acres. Our guide, Chino, and his family live and caretake the property. The intention is to build a retreat center where students can study this energetic medicine tradition and elder Q’ero medicine people can live out their lives when the higher elevations become too strenuous.
The Wedding Feast
Our next stop is lunch, or more specifically, the wedding feast. As always, I am famished, and it has been many hours and miles hiked since breakfast. One cannot live on power bars alone! The feast takes place nearby at property owned by the Four Winds Society. Hidden behind a tall, corrugated metal wall it is approximately two acres. Our guide, Chino, and his family live and caretake the property. The intention is to build a retreat center where students can study this energetic medicine tradition and elder Q’ero medicine people can live out their lives when the higher elevations become too strenuous.
A long plank table, sans tablecloth or place mats, has been set-up for the wedding feast. A whole lamb and potatoes have been slowly cooking in the earth for many hours. The lamb is succulent and very tender. Later, rounds of pisco, an alcohol-based liqueur, and chicha or corn beer are passed around as toasts are made to the bride and groom and Apu Ausangate. |
Chicha is an acquired taste, at best, and is known to be effective in preventing prostate problems because it cleanses the urinary tract. Women drink it medicinally to cleanse the uterus. The combination of strenuous physical exercise, hot sun, savory food and alcohol make me want to curl up in a hammock and take a long siesta. Instead, dozing in the van ride back to our hotel in Pisa’q refreshes me for the day’s events still to come!
My Espiritu Despacho Cermony
Since we are running late returning to the hotel, my healing session with doña Bernadina and don Humberto is delayed an hour. Fine with me — there is now time for a quick shower and dinner. Blessed be hot water, and lots and lots of it! Revived, I hastily put on clean, warm clothes before heading to the dining room. As if I have not eaten all day, I order garlic trout with potatoes and mixed vegetables. I still have not figured out whether it is the altitude, Peru, or the food served, that makes me so hungry! If not for all the hiking, I can imagine five extra pounds, at least, going back home with me. Over dinner Jerry agrees to sit in on my session since his grasp of Spanish is much better than mine. Though Karina and Chino offered to serve as interpreters for us during these sessions, the reality thus far is they are always being called elsewhere.
As the time of my appointment nears, I get steadily more nervous. Tonight’s despacho, I have decided, will be for my spiritual evolution. I am nervous, in part, because within months after setting a similar intention I was diagnosed with leukemia. I remind myself that the diagnosis carried with it unanticipated gifts — the catalyst to restore more balance in my life and the reason for my being in Peru right now. Just a few months earlier I was a participant in a clinical trial that necessitated my having a catheter in my chest into which a 24-hour infusion of an experimental biologic chemotherapeutic medicine was administered monthly. Though the trial was terminated and considered unsuccessful, thankfully I was blessed to go into and remain in remission. Closing my eyes, I say a prayer asking Spirit to help me be strong in my resolve tonight.
Karina is waiting when I arrive and promises to stay with me and translate throughout the despacho ceremony. Believing I will be well served so this experience is both a healing session and a teaching session, Jerry leaves to pack for tomorrow’s expedition to Ausangate. Doña Bernadina and don Humberto stand as I approach with Karina. “Buenos noches,” I say greeting each with hugs. Karina tells them that I want an espiritu despacho. Don Humberto tells Karina, who translates, “She is like Alberto.” Looking quizzical, he adds in Quechua, “You are a teacher” and points at my llankay (belly) and munay (heart) energy centers. Flustered, I shake my head and tell Karina that I would love to be a teacher like Alberto, but I am not. She translates. Doña Bernadino smiles and laughs, while don Humberto replies, “You will be.”
Sitting cross-legged on the floor across from these medicine people, I turn to Karina, but she has disappeared. So much for being well served! Oh well. . . With a twinkle in his eye, don Humberto sets to work. Before him is a two foot square piece of white paper that will serve as the “canvas” for my despacho. Doña Bernadina busily arranges the small packets of folded paper that hold the ingredients that will be used to create the map for my healing. My job, she gestures, is to open each packet. Doña Bernadina then arranges them in some mysterious order, handing each specific ingredient to don Humberto without conversation or eye contact. I become as interested in their working partnership as in the creation of my espiritu despacho. I am particularly interested in how many coca leaves they consume. Don Humberto is constantly reaching into his llama-skin pouch and drawing out a leave or two to chew. Doña Bernadina makes k’intus -- the pattern seems to be one k'intu for my despacho and one for her to chew. She makes at least two dozen k’intus for my despacho!
Don Humberto hands me a k’intu gesturing that I eat it. Perhaps he saw my wistful gaze as he munches away! When I finish, doña Bernadina hands me one that she has just imprinted with a prayer and pantomimes for me to do the same, and then pass it along to don Humberto. Before placing it in the despacho, he, too, imprints a prayer with his breath.
One of the packets I unwrap contains a Christian cross. Doña Bernadina promptly casts it aside with a soundless laugh. More ingredients are added along with more k’intus until the depacho is heaped with layers upon layers of prayers, grains and seeds. Considerable amounts of sugar are added, which makes me smile each time more is added since it appears don Humberto does not feel I have enough sweetness in my life. “Oh well,” I think, “I’ll take all the sweetness I can get!”
My Espiritu Despacho Cermony
Since we are running late returning to the hotel, my healing session with doña Bernadina and don Humberto is delayed an hour. Fine with me — there is now time for a quick shower and dinner. Blessed be hot water, and lots and lots of it! Revived, I hastily put on clean, warm clothes before heading to the dining room. As if I have not eaten all day, I order garlic trout with potatoes and mixed vegetables. I still have not figured out whether it is the altitude, Peru, or the food served, that makes me so hungry! If not for all the hiking, I can imagine five extra pounds, at least, going back home with me. Over dinner Jerry agrees to sit in on my session since his grasp of Spanish is much better than mine. Though Karina and Chino offered to serve as interpreters for us during these sessions, the reality thus far is they are always being called elsewhere.
As the time of my appointment nears, I get steadily more nervous. Tonight’s despacho, I have decided, will be for my spiritual evolution. I am nervous, in part, because within months after setting a similar intention I was diagnosed with leukemia. I remind myself that the diagnosis carried with it unanticipated gifts — the catalyst to restore more balance in my life and the reason for my being in Peru right now. Just a few months earlier I was a participant in a clinical trial that necessitated my having a catheter in my chest into which a 24-hour infusion of an experimental biologic chemotherapeutic medicine was administered monthly. Though the trial was terminated and considered unsuccessful, thankfully I was blessed to go into and remain in remission. Closing my eyes, I say a prayer asking Spirit to help me be strong in my resolve tonight.
Karina is waiting when I arrive and promises to stay with me and translate throughout the despacho ceremony. Believing I will be well served so this experience is both a healing session and a teaching session, Jerry leaves to pack for tomorrow’s expedition to Ausangate. Doña Bernadina and don Humberto stand as I approach with Karina. “Buenos noches,” I say greeting each with hugs. Karina tells them that I want an espiritu despacho. Don Humberto tells Karina, who translates, “She is like Alberto.” Looking quizzical, he adds in Quechua, “You are a teacher” and points at my llankay (belly) and munay (heart) energy centers. Flustered, I shake my head and tell Karina that I would love to be a teacher like Alberto, but I am not. She translates. Doña Bernadino smiles and laughs, while don Humberto replies, “You will be.”
Sitting cross-legged on the floor across from these medicine people, I turn to Karina, but she has disappeared. So much for being well served! Oh well. . . With a twinkle in his eye, don Humberto sets to work. Before him is a two foot square piece of white paper that will serve as the “canvas” for my despacho. Doña Bernadina busily arranges the small packets of folded paper that hold the ingredients that will be used to create the map for my healing. My job, she gestures, is to open each packet. Doña Bernadina then arranges them in some mysterious order, handing each specific ingredient to don Humberto without conversation or eye contact. I become as interested in their working partnership as in the creation of my espiritu despacho. I am particularly interested in how many coca leaves they consume. Don Humberto is constantly reaching into his llama-skin pouch and drawing out a leave or two to chew. Doña Bernadina makes k’intus -- the pattern seems to be one k'intu for my despacho and one for her to chew. She makes at least two dozen k’intus for my despacho!
Don Humberto hands me a k’intu gesturing that I eat it. Perhaps he saw my wistful gaze as he munches away! When I finish, doña Bernadina hands me one that she has just imprinted with a prayer and pantomimes for me to do the same, and then pass it along to don Humberto. Before placing it in the despacho, he, too, imprints a prayer with his breath.
One of the packets I unwrap contains a Christian cross. Doña Bernadina promptly casts it aside with a soundless laugh. More ingredients are added along with more k’intus until the depacho is heaped with layers upon layers of prayers, grains and seeds. Considerable amounts of sugar are added, which makes me smile each time more is added since it appears don Humberto does not feel I have enough sweetness in my life. “Oh well,” I think, “I’ll take all the sweetness I can get!”
Lastly, don Humberto circles a cording of cotton around the mandala, creating a metaphorical container for my spirit. He then fold and ties the despacho into a bulging package. Gesturing for me to hold a finger over the red thread, he ties a tight bow that includes my finger — with a laugh and twinkle in his eye, he undoes the bow and tries again. |
Doña Bernadina gestures for me to stand holding my mesa. Then, while ringing her bell she imprints a high quality of energy into the crown of my head with her breath. More bell ringing follows as she thumps and grinds her mesa into my yachay (crown), munay (heart), and llankay (belly) energy centers. All the while she whispers emphatically in Quechua. Are they prayers? Or, admonitions? I have no idea. Involuntarily my body trembles. Don Humberto completes the ceremony by cleansing my luminous energy field thoroughly with the despacho. Then, placing his mesa over the depacho, which I am holding on top of my own mesa, he presses them firmly together while invoking a prayer. The ceremony complete, we smile and hug each other. Don Humberto’s eyes twinkle as he reaches out to hug me again. Now the hard work begins — to shift my spiritual evolution into high gear I must learn to hold this vibrational quality of energy that has been imprinted into my energy field and into my mesa. Closing my eyes, I focus my attention on each of my three primary energy centers to feel these new energetic vibrations swirling within.
Fortuitously, Suzi and Jerry are waiting for me outside. Off we head to the lounge — each of us wanting to hold the magic of this day awhile longer. Finally, it is time to pack for the next part of our adventure — Ausangate — the premier masculine holy mountain, and the very mountain that called me back to Peru.
Four years ago, in 1998, my husband Rick and I flew from Aguas Calientes to Cuzco, in a Sikorsky jet helicopter. During the flight I photographed the imposing Andean mountains along our route. Only one mountain picture came out clearly and it sits on my bedside table. Not long after I began studying Andean shamanism with The Four Winds Society was this mountain identified for me as Ausangate. I believe Apu Ausangate instigated my study of Andean shamanism and the events leading to my being called back to Peru now.
As the evening wanes, doubts begin to surface — will I be physically strong enough for this part of the trip? Can I clear my mind sufficiently to hear Apu Ausangate’s message? What if. . . I keep all my doubts to myself.
In the midst of packing and repacking what may be necessary to take to the mountain, a vendor calls twice from the lobby asking for Suzi. He tells me she promised to buy a condor feather. “No, she did not,” I counter, “Besides they are illegal to bring back into the United States.” Alberto stops by for some chocolate. A little while later Jerry stops by, so does Joy. We are all feeling a little anxious. It is after 11pm by the time everyone has left our room and the telephone is silent. Our wake up call is less than seven hours away. Before closing my eyes, I consciously send luminous threads, known as cekes, from my heart center to Apu Ausangate. “I’m coming," I silently say.
Fortuitously, Suzi and Jerry are waiting for me outside. Off we head to the lounge — each of us wanting to hold the magic of this day awhile longer. Finally, it is time to pack for the next part of our adventure — Ausangate — the premier masculine holy mountain, and the very mountain that called me back to Peru.
Four years ago, in 1998, my husband Rick and I flew from Aguas Calientes to Cuzco, in a Sikorsky jet helicopter. During the flight I photographed the imposing Andean mountains along our route. Only one mountain picture came out clearly and it sits on my bedside table. Not long after I began studying Andean shamanism with The Four Winds Society was this mountain identified for me as Ausangate. I believe Apu Ausangate instigated my study of Andean shamanism and the events leading to my being called back to Peru now.
As the evening wanes, doubts begin to surface — will I be physically strong enough for this part of the trip? Can I clear my mind sufficiently to hear Apu Ausangate’s message? What if. . . I keep all my doubts to myself.
In the midst of packing and repacking what may be necessary to take to the mountain, a vendor calls twice from the lobby asking for Suzi. He tells me she promised to buy a condor feather. “No, she did not,” I counter, “Besides they are illegal to bring back into the United States.” Alberto stops by for some chocolate. A little while later Jerry stops by, so does Joy. We are all feeling a little anxious. It is after 11pm by the time everyone has left our room and the telephone is silent. Our wake up call is less than seven hours away. Before closing my eyes, I consciously send luminous threads, known as cekes, from my heart center to Apu Ausangate. “I’m coming," I silently say.