Sacred moments in the Sacred Valley
Good morning from Ollantaytambo! For nearly two weeks, I have been in the Sacred Valley of the Incas (“Sacred Valley”) in central Peru. The Sacred Valley was inhabited by the Incas until the Spanish conquest of the 16th century. For the first week and a half, I was in the city of Cusco (not to be confused with the department of Cusco, which is the name of the entire area, much like a state in the United States). Two days ago, I ventured to Ollantaytambo and have been enjoying exploring the city that is home to the ruins of a massive Incan fortress and was once a strategic agricultural, military, and religious hub of the Incan empire. (Note: the history of this land and its people are rich. I could dedicate an entire post to this, but (A) that is not the purpose of this blog and (B) I can guarantee others on the internet already have done so, and I encourage all who are interested to read more!).
As I write this, I am sitting in a cafe with a cup of coca tea facing the archeological site in Ollantaytambo and its large stone terraces built into the hillside. In recent conversation, many have asked what a typical day looks like as a wandering fellow, and the short answer is, there isn’t one. In the month that I have been gone, no two days have been the same. Notably, it has been on days when I venture out with minimal plans that I have stumbled upon some of the best moments.
One morning in the kitchen of my house (somehow I stumbled upon a great living space where I am the only one who hasn’t been in Cusco for over six months), I shared with one of my housemates how project leads were popping up everywhere. She told me that the apus, the spirits of the sacred mountains of the valley, must be in deep support of me and my project. “If the spirits are on your side,” she said, “you won’t need to do anything to find success.” Here, I’ll share just three vignettes from the past two weeks, in which connections and conversations related to my project have merely vaporized in my path…
* * *
When I arrived to the Cusco airport, I was greeted by a driver. As we drove to towards my temporary home, I learned that Juan is a cusqueño (Cusco native) and has previously worked as a tour guide. He asked me what brought me to Cusco, and I told him about my project. When he dropped me off, I took his business card.
Later that week, I inquired about the cost of a ride, and he asked about my project. He flooded my messages with numbers of local contacts. One of his good friends was a shaman. Another had a personal library with books about local forms of healing and Andean medicine. The father of another friend was an anthropologist who had written a book on curative methods and perspectives on Ayahuasca. I couldn’t believe my eyes; I felt like I had stumbled upon a goldmine merely by befriending my cab driver.
Fast forward, and there I sat at a table sprawling with books that had been pulled from the shelves of the aforementioned personal library in my cab driver’s friend’s kitchen. As the afternoon turned to evening, the three of us sat with steaming cups of emoliente (a hot beverage prepared with a mix of herbs, many with medicinal properties said to aid digestion and detoxify the liver). I furiously scribbled notes in my journal as I was told an extensive history of the development of various Andean medicinal practices. Across four hours, my mind expanded and contracted as I tried to process the influx of wisdom. Graciously, I was sent home with two books and told to return them at a later date so I could make photocopies at the local university or take more notes. I’m still only a quarter of the way through the first one.
Note: In the time it has taken me to write and edit this post, Juan messaged to say he is renting an apartment on AirBnB in Cusco and asked if I could tell all of my friends. It is with his permission that I share his name and WhatsApp number (+51 979 900 700) for anyone who is interested in staying in his apartment. It is super cute, and has a washer — a rare commodity. I encourage anyone who is heading to Cusco to rent from him, not only for a comfortable place to stay, but to know that you have a local host who is a true gem. I am already thinking of the day that I return and can stay in his apartment myself!
* * *
On my first full day in Cusco, I awoke bright and early. The white curtains did little to block out the morning sunlight, and when I pulled them aside, I was greeted by a breathtaking view of the city and the mountains. I took my time getting ready for the day; Cusco was a lot colder than I had anticipated, and with no heat in the house, I was hesitant to emerge from under my alpaca blankets. When I did, I decided my first order of business was to locate a market; after the previous week’s food poisoning incident, I was grateful to be in a house with a kitchen and eager to cook for myself. After a brief stroll, I found myself at the Plaza de Armas, starring at a map of the city, when a man approached me. A free walking tour was leaving from that exact place in 5 minutes — what luck! I joined the tour, and through sporadic conversations between our guide’s debrief of various city sites, I befriended a couple from Spain and a man from Israel. We went for coffee together and booked a hiking tour of Rainbow mountain for the following day.
I learned that the Israeli man on my tour was Jewish and we had both arrived to Cusco the day prior. He told me he had visited the local Chabad (a Jewish community center of sort, frequently found in otherwise non-Jewish dominant spaces/towns) and offered to show me where it was located. A few hours later, I found myself in the Chabad House of Cusco, discussing kosher law and its connection to wellbeing. Again, I was struck. During my project year, I want to explore the connection between religion and health, and visit Israel - the Jewish homeland and home to Jerusalem, a city quite literally divided into religious quarters - yet, I had stumbled upon this theme in the Andean highlands. Even more, this man and his wisdom reminded me of my grandfather, who passed away in October; I still can’t get over the coincidental nature of their resemblance or our meeting.
The next day’s hike with my three new friend’s was peppered with light conversation between frequent stops as our bodies attempted to keep up with the demand of such a climb at altitude. Luckily, our guide had plenty of coca leaves to chew on as we made our ascent.
While coca leaves have gained a negative connotation given their connection to cocaine, their use predates the extraction of this alkaloid for sale and recreational use. Coca leaves are sacred, and have been used for centuries for their nutritive, medicinal, and cultural value. They are frequently brewed into a tea or merely chewed to quell thirst and hunger, combat altitude sickness, and act as a mild stimulant (much like coffee!). They are also used in offerings to Pachamama (Mother Earth) and in leaf reading ceremonies. My knowledge on this topic is still growing; I purchased a book about coca leaves at a local shop near my house, and soon I’ll know more! 
At the top of rainbow mountain (5,132 meters!!), I opted for the easier descent, since I was in my Blundstones. Hiking boots weren’t one of the four pairs of shoes I packed for the year. I explained this to my new friend from Israel as we made our way down the mountain. One speciality item that did make the cut? My prescription scuba diving goggles. I figured these would be near impossible to locate elsewhere. As coincidence would have it, he told me that he had just finished serving two terms as the head of the Israel Nature and Parks Authority, and if I ended up making my way there, I had a standing invitation not only to join his family for a shabbat dinner, but to join him in ocean cleanup dives in the Red Sea.
* * *
On my second day in Ollantaytambo, I ventured to hike to the granaries built into the mountainside. These structures had been specifically constructed centuries ago on the mountainside to harness the power of the wind to maintain freshness of the crop they held. When I reached the stone stairs to begin my climb, I was met with closed doors; the trail was closed for maintenance. Slightly irritated, I sauntered down the cobblestone street, resigned to a walk around town. I walked for less than a minute when I saw a sign for an art gallery. I entered the garden space and was greeted by Oscar, a local artist who builds wooden and stone sculptures. His work has an impressive international reputation, and it didn’t take long to see why. He took me into his gallery, where breathtaking wooden carvings of street scenes and 2 meter tall, life-like statues filled the room.
A carving of a 110 year old woman who lives in the highlands stood in the far corner. Per Oscar, this woman lives off of the crop her land and livestock provide and has never been to a hospital in her life. She is a weaver, not only making her own clothing, but textiles to sell (some of which, Oscar sells). She doesn’t eat or used anything processed, manufactured, or synthetic, but lives a happy and healthy life, deriving all of her needs for the land. Her way of life launched an hour-long conversation with Oscar about connection to place, the relationship between the health of the land and the health of people, food as medicine, and the importance of happiness in health.
As I walked home that afternoon, I noted the chance occurrence of our meeting, which only transpired because that trail head was closed. Another moment of coincidental timing that lead to a beautiful conversation crystallized in my mind as I tucked Oscar’s business card safely into my pocket.
* * *
Now, I recall something my guide said during a hike: “nada es bueno, nada es malo, todo es necesario.” In English, “nothing is good, nothing is bad, all is necessary.” He explained that humans often assign virtue to different evens in our life, and are frustrated when things don’t go our way. But, when events don't come to fruition, they leave space for something else the universe has in store for us. This notion encapsulates many of my recent experiences.
Written on February 26th, 2022. Uploaded on February 28th, 2022. Photos to come when I have stronger WiFi!