(La Playa Sahuayaku - Lucmabamba Coffee farm - Inca trail - Llactapata, 12km, 2,700m camp, 400m+)
We started late today but it's ok because it's a short day - a little more than half day or so. Jhois didn't wake up or show up for a long time. It bothered some in the group - used to times, plans etc. :) ("Where's Jhois? It's already so late!").
Haan, the previous night I saw such beautiful constellations. Even the milky way. Just spread out. Spectacular. Why do we stay so far from all this?
The campsite was a coffee farm. Someone gave us demo of how they pluck coffee beans and process them into powder. It was fine. The man was shy and sincere.
I remember seeing a mother combing hair of her young daughter, doing her plait. Pink color sweater on the kid. I remembered Bhutan when I did the same. :)
I also noticed for some odd reason, there was the commode outside the bathroom, including the flush. Means there was one inside. But there was one right outside affixed to the wall - facing all the tents. No, I didn't use it. :)
I shaved looking at me in the mirror! A first for me on treks (I've gone on for days earlier without seeing myself). Ha, ha. This has to be a really weird trek. Are we in the wilderness or semi-wilderness. Is it over?
(But all my reservations would be more than made up later today - I just didn't know it then).
On the way, I realized we were on a second trek. Means, Salkantay finished. Everything here looked different. We were slowly ascending into forest area. It seemed like two treks into one.
I was generally happy. I remember this at the time when Jhois was giving us a history lesson at the beginning of the Llactapata trail head. It's one of the Inka trails. I was fooling around taking video with my camera.
But I had long conversations with Jhois. Before, after. Trying to understand the Quechua people. Here's what I remember.
[About Quechua]
Jhois has a Spanish father and a Quechuan mother. He relates more to the Quechua people. I asked if this were the case with his friends. He said it's mixed. Some people like to associate themselves more with Spanish. (cooler). Some more Quechua (more ancient).
I see this thing everywhere in the world. People are trying to find where they are originally from. Who are they? Who were their ancestors? At a younger age, they want to be more cool. At a later age, they search for meaning. When they learn history (that Spanish conquerers wiped out a lot of what was Quechua, Inca and many many tribes, ethnicities, their knowledge, temples, beliefs, education, customs...the English did the same in India), people try to go back and search for what was before all that happened. Who were they, really?
At one point, Jhois said (this was in Machu Picchu I think) - had the Spanish people found this, they would've erected a Catholic church here too.
Unlike in India, Spanish is quite intermingled into the population. People. Language. Religion. It's more difficult to unroot. Jhois mentioned in Lima - like when Cusco people go to Lima - they become more metro and when they return, they act more Spanish-like. Disassociating themselves with their customs or even sometimes struggling with language. He himself doesn't speak Quechua and is learning. He taught us to say, Solpayki - thank you - in Quechua. I remember him saying the language itself is more descriptive/illustrative, as you see. It's interesting.
I learnt in Lima (at the Museo de Larco and in Cusco museums and elsewhere), the Andeans are generally strongly visual people. They communicate through symbols and signs. It's very, very important. Animals play a strong role spiritually. After my shamanic experience, I learnt a lot more about it. They see life in three worlds:
Uku pacha (lower world) - symbolized by snake, transformation and rebirth
Kay pacha (our world) - symbolized by puma, strength and patience
Hanan pacha (higher world) - symbolized by condor, spiritual
[Back to the trek]
The Llactapata trek was a steady, up climb all the way. We entered a cloud forest. Beautiful. On the way, near the trail head, I remember seeing a table with a sign ("Andean Starbucks Coffee"). (Sarah and Andrea told us later they asked around for Starbucks, haha!).
I mostly trekked up with Dr. M. We stopped in between where he bought Inca cola for everyone. I liked that spot. It was nice. It must've been around 2pm or so. We took pics etc. Peaceful views. Luscious, green, flowers, river below, forest, mountains all around everywhere you see. They even have an orange flag at this point. The chef and porters carried stuff on their back.
At one point, I saw a black/red caterpillar like thing. It was dying. Not yet dead. He had a red under-bottom but black top. Was moving his head slowly, curled up. But flies and other insects were already on, eating him/her, sucking into him. In a hurry. Frantically. Nature doesn't wait. Nature doesn't care. It keeps moving, moving.
I remember hugging one tree (the photo looks weird now!). But something happened. More on this in a bit, may be in the other separate note.
There was a sign called Puncoloc. At this point, I left Dr. M and Jhois. I kept going. I had a deeply surreal, meditative experience on this part of the trial. I felt like removing my shoes. I carried it with the laces tied on my shoulders. Just my feet. The soil. Earth. Pachamama. I've described this separately. Why did I have that experience? I don't know. I hugged two more trees. It didn't feel very different from hugging a person.
An electric blue/white butterfly.
I reached campsite. And I was like oh, now I'm going to see Machu Picchu. All these years. And now I'd have a glimpse. How would it be? I went all the way to the end of the campsite. Crossing horse dung. One thorn too inside. Removed it. I took pics of myself to remember this thing. There were large mountains in the background. Then I decided to come out of myself and join the others. I did that.
Beautiful, beautiful campsite. We had great lunch. During lunch, Jhois said there's Machu Picchu. Huh? I said, where? I think I asked him, so where's Machu Picchu. It was right in front of us. It was the mountains I saw when I went all the way to the end. And then I saw it - the terraces. Waynapicchu on the left - the smaller mountain. Machu Picchu mountain on the right. Once you see it, you always see it. My God! It's like that old woman-young woman drawing. Once you get the perspective, you always get it.
I just so enjoyed. (Andrea said, "This is a new Praveen!" - I think she said later that night).
The lunch was very nice, I remember that. I ate a lot. We finished whatever was there. Must've been 3pm or so.
I spent many hours drawing that afternoon after lunch. Blissful. I remember everything so distinctly. Like Bruce said, when you draw, you remember. It's true. It's just there deep in my memory.
That night's dinner was so much fun. Our group came together. Dr. M was in his funniest best. Mads started teaching us Danish. This is what he said:
We started late today but it's ok because it's a short day - a little more than half day or so. Jhois didn't wake up or show up for a long time. It bothered some in the group - used to times, plans etc. :) ("Where's Jhois? It's already so late!").
Haan, the previous night I saw such beautiful constellations. Even the milky way. Just spread out. Spectacular. Why do we stay so far from all this?
The campsite was a coffee farm. Someone gave us demo of how they pluck coffee beans and process them into powder. It was fine. The man was shy and sincere.
I remember seeing a mother combing hair of her young daughter, doing her plait. Pink color sweater on the kid. I remembered Bhutan when I did the same. :)
I also noticed for some odd reason, there was the commode outside the bathroom, including the flush. Means there was one inside. But there was one right outside affixed to the wall - facing all the tents. No, I didn't use it. :)
I shaved looking at me in the mirror! A first for me on treks (I've gone on for days earlier without seeing myself). Ha, ha. This has to be a really weird trek. Are we in the wilderness or semi-wilderness. Is it over?
(But all my reservations would be more than made up later today - I just didn't know it then).
On the way, I realized we were on a second trek. Means, Salkantay finished. Everything here looked different. We were slowly ascending into forest area. It seemed like two treks into one.
I was generally happy. I remember this at the time when Jhois was giving us a history lesson at the beginning of the Llactapata trail head. It's one of the Inka trails. I was fooling around taking video with my camera.
But I had long conversations with Jhois. Before, after. Trying to understand the Quechua people. Here's what I remember.
[About Quechua]
Jhois has a Spanish father and a Quechuan mother. He relates more to the Quechua people. I asked if this were the case with his friends. He said it's mixed. Some people like to associate themselves more with Spanish. (cooler). Some more Quechua (more ancient).
I see this thing everywhere in the world. People are trying to find where they are originally from. Who are they? Who were their ancestors? At a younger age, they want to be more cool. At a later age, they search for meaning. When they learn history (that Spanish conquerers wiped out a lot of what was Quechua, Inca and many many tribes, ethnicities, their knowledge, temples, beliefs, education, customs...the English did the same in India), people try to go back and search for what was before all that happened. Who were they, really?
At one point, Jhois said (this was in Machu Picchu I think) - had the Spanish people found this, they would've erected a Catholic church here too.
Unlike in India, Spanish is quite intermingled into the population. People. Language. Religion. It's more difficult to unroot. Jhois mentioned in Lima - like when Cusco people go to Lima - they become more metro and when they return, they act more Spanish-like. Disassociating themselves with their customs or even sometimes struggling with language. He himself doesn't speak Quechua and is learning. He taught us to say, Solpayki - thank you - in Quechua. I remember him saying the language itself is more descriptive/illustrative, as you see. It's interesting.
I learnt in Lima (at the Museo de Larco and in Cusco museums and elsewhere), the Andeans are generally strongly visual people. They communicate through symbols and signs. It's very, very important. Animals play a strong role spiritually. After my shamanic experience, I learnt a lot more about it. They see life in three worlds:
Uku pacha (lower world) - symbolized by snake, transformation and rebirth
Kay pacha (our world) - symbolized by puma, strength and patience
Hanan pacha (higher world) - symbolized by condor, spiritual
[Back to the trek]
The Llactapata trek was a steady, up climb all the way. We entered a cloud forest. Beautiful. On the way, near the trail head, I remember seeing a table with a sign ("Andean Starbucks Coffee"). (Sarah and Andrea told us later they asked around for Starbucks, haha!).
I mostly trekked up with Dr. M. We stopped in between where he bought Inca cola for everyone. I liked that spot. It was nice. It must've been around 2pm or so. We took pics etc. Peaceful views. Luscious, green, flowers, river below, forest, mountains all around everywhere you see. They even have an orange flag at this point. The chef and porters carried stuff on their back.
At one point, I saw a black/red caterpillar like thing. It was dying. Not yet dead. He had a red under-bottom but black top. Was moving his head slowly, curled up. But flies and other insects were already on, eating him/her, sucking into him. In a hurry. Frantically. Nature doesn't wait. Nature doesn't care. It keeps moving, moving.
I remember hugging one tree (the photo looks weird now!). But something happened. More on this in a bit, may be in the other separate note.
There was a sign called Puncoloc. At this point, I left Dr. M and Jhois. I kept going. I had a deeply surreal, meditative experience on this part of the trial. I felt like removing my shoes. I carried it with the laces tied on my shoulders. Just my feet. The soil. Earth. Pachamama. I've described this separately. Why did I have that experience? I don't know. I hugged two more trees. It didn't feel very different from hugging a person.
An electric blue/white butterfly.
I reached campsite. And I was like oh, now I'm going to see Machu Picchu. All these years. And now I'd have a glimpse. How would it be? I went all the way to the end of the campsite. Crossing horse dung. One thorn too inside. Removed it. I took pics of myself to remember this thing. There were large mountains in the background. Then I decided to come out of myself and join the others. I did that.
Beautiful, beautiful campsite. We had great lunch. During lunch, Jhois said there's Machu Picchu. Huh? I said, where? I think I asked him, so where's Machu Picchu. It was right in front of us. It was the mountains I saw when I went all the way to the end. And then I saw it - the terraces. Waynapicchu on the left - the smaller mountain. Machu Picchu mountain on the right. Once you see it, you always see it. My God! It's like that old woman-young woman drawing. Once you get the perspective, you always get it.
I just so enjoyed. (Andrea said, "This is a new Praveen!" - I think she said later that night).
The lunch was very nice, I remember that. I ate a lot. We finished whatever was there. Must've been 3pm or so.
I spent many hours drawing that afternoon after lunch. Blissful. I remember everything so distinctly. Like Bruce said, when you draw, you remember. It's true. It's just there deep in my memory.
That night's dinner was so much fun. Our group came together. Dr. M was in his funniest best. Mads started teaching us Danish. This is what he said:
rødgrød med fløde
What it sounds like is khol, ghol me flu!! It's one pudding.
Haha :)
Then Sarah shared some joke she heard about Italian not revealing secrets because his hands were tied. Needs hands to talk. :)
Andrea talked about bah - how it's used like La in Singapore at the end of every sentence. Bah.
Dr. M narrated a real joke. Where a nurse wanted to greet an Indian cardiologist. Someone told her to say Behn-chut. And she did.
So everyone was at it.
Somehow the topic shifted to cows. And I couldn't resist. I told all I know about cow factories.
I slept very happy. Still with the whole dinner conversations ringing.
There was an English couple. Very scattered. They carried everything. Cooked. Must be in 60s. He said, "Don't take our bags" or something next morning.
Andrea later told me - that afternoon - she was also sitting for many hours. And was thinking through everything about her life.
It is such a place.
No comments:
Post a Comment