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Published: July 22nd 2009
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Clocktower
View looking up at the Inca ruins from the clocktower of the Colonial church. After leaving Paucartambo and having a wonderful time there, we headed out on the narrow dirt road that leads to Cusco. Pepe was looking for a llantero (tire guy) and I wondered if I should be worried. I wasn´t. I should have been.
At the 2nd (or was it 5th, or 20th) switchback on the way back up the ridge, there was a turn off onto what I thought would never be a passable road, let alone passable for an overloaded nissan station wagon. It was, sort of. The tiny road was cut into the mountainside and in some places the drop off on the other side allowed me to see the local bird species from the top down. After about a half hour ride, we came into a tiny village by crossing a holy (not recently blessed) wooden bridge. In the town, there was no new construction at all, in fact, I think that the newest building´s owner showed up in armor looking for spices and gold. That owner is long gone and what remains is a curious and sad situation. The town is located at the place where two rivers meet. Between the rivers there is a high
ridge that allows anyone there to see miles up both rivers and miles down the main river valley. It is a perfect place for a fortress, and a fortress there is. It doesn´t look like much, but as you look closer, every hill top and every rock outcropping is lined with terraces and topped with Inca architecture. The fortress is said to have been built 300 years before the arrival of the Spanish and there are three major sections of ruins. The stone work is not the typical Inca construction that comes to mind because it is fairly early, however, the main entrance must have collapsed and later Incas reconstructed it. The entry is classic, the door and it´s stone work are something that you see in the Historic District of Cusco.
The part of the town that kept me up at night thinking was the Spanish Church and hacienda. The Inca walls are only about waist high because the Spanish took the stones and used them in the construction of the Catholic Church and hacienda that surrounds it. The Church is in far worse condition than the Inca ruins and the hacienda around it is not occupied by
Church and Hacienda
Looking down at the Church from the Inca Ruins anyone with Spanish blood. The people here are directly descended from the Incas and when the Spanish conquered the town, the didn´t apparently stick around. Sadly, the few families that remain are incredibly poor and are although they speak the language, there is no sign of the royalty that they once were in their sad eyes. We went into the courtyard of the church and spoke to the family that is squatting there (the colonial paintings in what was once a saloon are still on the walls above their dishpans). The woman talked to us at length and we gave her a few soles to supplement the diets of her children. We asked about the church and she said that if there was a caretaker she didn´t know who he was or who might have the key to the large padlock on the beautiful doors. She did say that if we could find a way in we could have at it. And we did.
On the side of the belltower, there was a door hanging askew (or was the door straight and the building askew). The towers were clearly separating from the building and some of the cracks revealed sunlight through the cracks in the opposite walls. We went in anyway. The staircase was now a ramp, steps filled in with the falling adobe from the ceiling and walls. It is difficult to imagine that this was once the centerpiece of a bustling Spanish mission. At the second floor, there was an arched door leading to a rotted balcony that overlooked the sanctuary. There was a two by four leading across the open stairwell for those photographers who are brave. I am brave. I dangled my way over to the opening and was amazed at what I saw. The doors had been shut and locked after a Sunday service and never reopened. The Virgin adorns the front of the room, red silk flowers arranged around her, a shock of color in a dim environment. Pews, although pushed to the side of the room are still as they were.
After snapping a quick photo, I made my way back across the two by four and back to the staicase. Up another flight of ramp was the tower, bells with their ropes dangling were ready to be rung, but the reverberation may bring the building to the ground. The third floor walls were pulled fully away from the main building and I stayed only long enough to catch some great images looking out of the belltower. A culture living in ruins... the double meaning of that statement stuck with me as we crossed back over the bridge. To think that the Spanish trashed the civilization here, and then left. Now the people who once lived in the fortress on the hill live in the remnants of the homes of their own conquerors.
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Kristi
non-member comment
Trish, You really sound like you are experiencing some really awesome things down there. Your kids will really benefit from your trip...and what better way to get the kids interested that with first hand info...be safe and have a great rest of your trip. Kristi