Macchu Picchu (Cont.)

I´m writing two blog entries about Machu Picchu not because it deserves such a long account, but really just because it takes a lot of words to properly describe the way that the hike there made me feel, the emotions the surrounding wonders of nature evoked in me, the spirits that were let loose in that rugged landscape.

I should probably first say that I made some really great friends on this trip: Luis and Gustavo, two good friends travelling together from Venezuala, Omri, Itay and Amir, three friends from Israel who I found incredibly relaxing and enjoyable to spend time with; and the fun-loving Danni from Australia. I loved all of these people and I really hope I will stay in touch with them; as free-spirited citizens of the world I am sure that some of us will find each other again, in some obscure part of the planet.

The walk was partly along windy dirt roads thousands of metres above sea-level, carved into the side of the mountain. This was what gave me the most vertigo. There were parts where my legs froze and simply wouldn´t carry me any further. Very frustrating that is, when the body won´t obey the mind. We stopped at a horrifically dizzying boulder and Willy took some time to explain the Incan culture to everybody. Basically, the Incans worshipped nature so that they would be treated kindly by her, through rain and good harvest. Pachamama is the Incan word for Mother Earth, and many rituals were...no, are... performed daily in worship of her, such as by offering coca tea leafs by throwing them into the river. The Incans also worshipped the Sun God Inti, the Moon goddess (the partner of the Sun God), and most importantly, the river, the source of all life. I believe that, too: the river gives me life, insofar as she gives me energy. It is the river that gives me the most energy (see my posting about my whitewater rafting adventure), and that is something I need to live a full life, to keep the fire burning in my spirit.

I thought about the river a lot whilst I was hiking.

For quite a long stretch of the hike, though, we walked along an old railway track, headed towards Aguas Calientes, from Santa Teresa. After a good night´s sleep at Santa Teresa, my legs had sufficient spring in them to take me across the old wooden railway, which wound its way through lush jungle. Luis and I chatted as we walked side by side, our feet falling on each plank simultaneously like a coordinated march. Eventually, I fell behind as I stopped to examine small things on either side of the tracks. I saw an amazing flutter of orange butterflies, clumped together on a rock. A few minutes later, a fat green caterpillar crawling lethargically along the edge of the railway, at a pace I could strongly identify with. I thought: is this the pace of life that humans should be adopting? At the caterpillar´s rate, the scenic views would be thoroughly and permanently stamped onto one´s mind like a copper etching. Wouldn´t we appreciate everything a little more if we took things a little slower? At the same time, I couldn´t help feeling as though, like the caterpillar, I was falling behind with life; but of this I was glad.

After a long day´s walk we arrived at Aguas Calientes and I had a good night´s sleep.

The climb up Machu Picchu was slow and steep. I climbed over 1,000 steps at 4:30am with a flashlight. It was a very sharp incline and the steps seemed to wind up and around forever. At the top, I found all the tourists a little overwhelming, so I sat on a rock and closed my eyes for a while. When I finally opened my eyes again, I saw the mountains rising directly above me, the edges sharper and the colours brighter. It was like being reborn! It was an amazing experience. I couldn´t help thinking that the image of Machu Picchu must be, for many people, such a worn and faded one; sort of like looking at a photograph for so long that it no longer has any effect on you. I found that by closing my eyes and shutting the iconic images out for some time, and forgetting where I was, I could almost surprise myself by letting it all flood back in again at the chosen moment.

"Sube a nacer conmigo, hermano"...

I had meant to bring my book of Cantos by Pablo Neruda so that I could, like a real gringo, read Alturas de Macchu Picchu (Heights of Macchu Picchu) from the top. I had forgotten my book completely, however, so I contented myself to look around the ruins and learn a little bit about them before retiring from the buzz of tourists.

Back in Cusco I got the Santa Ana bus back to the school to see the kitchen that we had built just one more time, and properly say goodbye to the teachers and to my little Luis. A big toothy smile spread across his tiny face when he saw me and he leaped into my arms like an orang-utan. I´m really going to miss that little monkey. I´m sure my face will fade in his memory in time as he grows up, but I´ll never forget his. No; I´ll go back sooner than later. I´ll make sure of it.

Don´t we always tell ourselves that?