To go up on foot, or with rucksack, it's a delightful walk ... for a perfect adventure in Marcahuasi.
The are punishments that the heights of Marcahuasi hands to us, but there are also other punishments that we have to face up to, kind of like a payment for the mysterious adventure. Sometimes the route is enjoyable, easy and light; sometimes you suffer horrors and it is extensive, boring, and gives much pain ... sometimes we regret having come, we live a confusing mix of feelings ... always. When the ascent goes bad for us, we think of never returning ever - the path is never easy - but when we arrive we leave behind such suffering.
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The walk from San Pedro de Casta to Marcahuasi we like very much and if we could remove some of this suffering that we have to face to arrive, the truth is that it would remove some of the fun, and the end of the beautiful adventure ...
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A tourist once said to me "Every walk to Marcahuasi is different, today it can go well for you, and the next time better still, but other times perhaps not ... Every time that you go up to Marcahuasi you will be paying for your sins, and your suffering will be the balance between the good and bad sides of your life ...". All of the time you're visiting the plateau you can affirm that Marcahuasi purifies you, cures you, chooses you, protects you, loves you, and enslaves you, making you a prisoner at this altitude; like it also it beats you with its harshness, it makes things difficult, it hides, it votes you out of the place and says goodbye, it provokes experiences in you that are only for you, and despite all of this ... you return ... again ... and again ... because you tune in to this sensation of magic, mystery and emptiness. And why not also a type of "Marcahuasi masochism"
The altitude sickness is a punishment given freely to us by Marcahuasi ... and when the sun goes down, the punishment of cold starts ...
The following tales I consider as a collection of punishments; they don't happen because they just have the mark of the sacred mountain, there is a difficulty that we experience, and that the lovers of Marcahuasi don't know how to explain.
* It was the last morning of July that we spent in the cabin, and a delicious milk soup that the marcahuasino chef had been inspired to make, the smell spread throughout the cabin reaching the few people there. We all watched as the burning wood made the soup boil ... as we heard "How tasty!", "Come on, invite us!", and others more controlled by their taste buds "Hey we're hungry...!" but a youngster approached the chef and said slowly "Let me help you!". The response of the chef was quick and cruel, that not only killed the good intentions, but also the hunger of the youngster. Everybody deserved to enjoy that tasty soup at this altitude, but suddenly everything was left as only "deserve" ... when a strange manoeuvre of the chef spilt everything and left us all with the same, or perhaps worse than those that didn't deserve any. A silence hung over us ... we looked at each other and the chef said "This is a punishment in flesh and blood, that when you don't want to share any and you lose everything!" - the rejection that the youngster received, it was a test ... my selfishness overcame me and this is the price ... no soup for him, nor for you or your friends ... What a pathetic punishment?!
* April 1993, many tourists had arrived to climb to the plateau, it was Easter week, and the weather threatened a downpour. Suddenly at quarter past four in the afternoon the rain arrived ... heavy rain, until 11 o'clock that night ... and ... of those that went up or were on the plateau now. That trip I decided to stay in the town, and saw how they returned ... and it reminded me of the film of the living dead! What faces! What looks! and what pain!
Some returned from half way up, others were already on the plateau and had no other option but to go back down because they weren't prepared for the storm. The visitors arrived covered in mud, injured from falls and from spines from the slippery paths, muddy, and a very dark night, their tears mixed with the rain and every one arrived with a story of a life at some crucial moment. This is a way in which the sacred mountain purifies you, throwing out all of this spiritual rubbish that arrived. Marcahuasi is a place to respect, we come here in good spirits and we receive also. So it is certain that Marcahuasi beats you with its harshness, makes it difficult and it hides. If before that hadn't happened to me ... Why now? I don't believe it was just something the people who had that experience said. And what an experience! I leave it to your free will
I don't know if those cases are the mark of the sacred mountain ... they are tests that I can't explain, but we continue returning without knowing why.
* Every time that I travelled to Marcahuasi, a friend asked me for money to cover his costs ... of course he returned me little by little over much time. Once I said that I didn't have it, and he didn't demand it, but he didn't travel with us. When we ascended to Marcahuasi, half way up, I went to pay a local that helped me with the rucksack ... I put my hand in all of my pockets, and then again. My wallet had gone missing with all of my documents. I told them and returned three times, without finding anything. Calmed, consumed by the pains of the journey, I told the story of the money that I didn't lend to my friend ... we returned learning the lesson. A journey where my friend didn't arrive at Marcahuasi, and us neither. And I thought "damn money ... damn punishments...!"
I hope that these events and punishments don't happen to you in Marcahuasi, and if something does happen, please let me know about it, to share with the society of marcahuasinos. I chose these three cases at random, but have many more, and more we will have the opportunity to share in my book or in a later post.
I leave you with this romantic punishment
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... Your lips dried by the sun and the wind
the thirst seizes you, and hunger too,
it will be the proof of your feelings ...
it will be the punishment for loving me so much ..."
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[Read the original blog post (in Spanish)]
Next part : The lake at Cachu Cachu
Photos : John Ysrael Guevara