Thursday, March 10, 2011

The Sacred Valley, Peru

               
                        Coca leaf offering to Mother Earth
Crops a plenty
        
Inca Wall
  If you were to throw a dart at an over-sized map you may pinpoint where I am... but most likely be wrong. HEHE... I'm in Buenos Aires today, flying to the East coast of the US of A this evening, I've spent the last month in Peru, loving it! No matter when I travel the days seem to flawlessly zoom past and leave in it's wake a series of memories. Thankfully, those moments remain strong for some time while I get my act together and take the time to document these travels!
          
Ruins in the shape of a condor
     
Potato Fetival, giving thanks to Pacha Mama
  
   

















  Initially  flying into Cusco, Peru, I was in the Sacred Valley for one week, this is where the astonishingly precise ruins from the Incas remain. Most of my time was spent in a small town called Pisac... the energy in the valley cradled me so. Like being in Alaska, my heart was content here so I traveled no further with my limit of time. On an outing I was walking through fields of corn and quinoa, coca and potatoes, meandering my way along a narrow stream gushing at high velocity. Tromping through clay-puddles I came upon a woman and her flock of sheep. She knowingly pointed me in the direction to the bridge of which I was seeking and I graciously thanked her for the assistance. Her spirit was strong and pure. Her exterior tough as nails, weathered from a life of living with Mother Earth. She was easily spotted from a distance while brightly coloured in traditional clothing against a backdrop of a million shades of green. The shield protecting her dark skin consisted of leather-strapped sandals and dark pants to the knees, but ones eye would quickly pass-over these ordinary clothes while focusing on the incredibly colourful poncho. Ahh yes, the multi-functional poncho! So many styles, feels and colours, if you were in the market at Pisac center on the right day your eyes would feast in an orgasm of bright! They use these for carrying young children, keeping warm at night, shelter from rains and sun alike, to wrap their goods for transport from the mountain tops to wherever they may be heading... and yes, I picked one up as well! Once I passed by the Shepard and her sheep, I found the bridge I'd been seeking and crossed to a world as ancient as an old-growth redwood in it's mid-life. To my eyes surprise and my souls glory I walked along a path traveled for more than 500 years... as it wound, I wound, and we (the path and I) curved upwards along the terraced hillside towards the "sun temple." When you dream about perfect creations as your subconscious runs wild in the glories of REM sleep, at the end of your tunnel one could glimpse perfect creations, stone walls joined so well together that the smallest insect couldn't squeeze it's microscopic self through. And if you find these marvels of craftsmanship, I can tell you that they DO exist... I've never seen anything more perfect made by human hands and don't know that I ever will. Dozens upon dozens of terraces staggered the hillside from bottom to top, side to side, in precise unity! To the point that recessed channels for water flow alternated from one end to the other with the slightest decline in grade to encourage ample coverage and flow through the crops.... breathtakingly beautiful! As my lungs heaved for more and more thin oxygen, my legs carried me to the entrance of the temple and as I approached, I reached my hand to the wall. Instant connection! A slight breeze of wind kissed my moist skin and carried a flute's song to my ears, the most beautiful expression of wisdom and learning and civilization and gratitude and MANY lives within this valley's expanse. Shivers ran through my insides and the hairs stood at attention on my outside. It was as if I'd been welcomed to an atmosphere that my soul knows, that ancient culture and wisdom is running through these veins and remembering is what we do as we grow older... I felt some remembrance in these walls, of something deep inside me from a time period past. For nearly a decade I've been traveling and living a life of a vagabond - where I lay my head is home. I feel like I've been yearning for a connection. A connection with Mother Earth, with the community I live with, with all the life around me and I found part of that here. The glimpse of ancient culture and indigenous tradition in the hills of the Sacred Valley enlivened my soul, embraced my spirit and was calling me back before I ever left... I hope you have the opportunity to travel here someday and feel what I felt... or something close to it... connection...

Fiends in the valley
Just the way I like it... mud and earth!
Who is this guy anyway! Did he dress himself today?

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