Tag: Ice Maiden

My Apologies, Arequipa

APRIL 27, 2019 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON

My apologies, Arequipa. The memory of you is etched in my mind but not as much as it should be. I’m sorry. Although I do remember exploring and going to sacred sites, I don’t recall the details as much as I would like.

I believe you threw me off initially with how you were oh so touristy. I hadn’t yet been to such a touristy Peruvian city. I was fresh from a city that was much more affected by us volunteers than tourists and while I could see the definite effects that we outsiders had on the inside; I wasn’t ready for how you; Arequipa could be so tourist centric. So, there I had it, going from being a voluntaria (volunteer), navigating the city as one of many driven helpers to suddenly bus-voyaging it to a place that primarily welcomed me as an extranjera-foreigner, albeit not the everyday American one. The label came out morena and it made for some intriguing twists.

Here we were. One of the co-volunteers from Pisco had taken the bus trip with me. We had decided to leave from there together. This was actually my first long experience pairing up with someone for my international travel venture. So far, I had been going it alone on my major preparations and although my destinations would be to networks of people, I had depended mainly on me for prep and logistics. That is how I would later continue. My current fellow traveler coincidentally happened to be one of the few American PSF volunteers. (Most of our new PSF friends were from Europe, but that varied a little as well).

I rather liked having a travel partner. He had prompted me to pull myself out of my second to last bout of Pisco belly. This would have been my last experience with it, except that I was gifted with it again, a few months ago as I was revisiting the city. However, a little illness was more than worth all the goodness that came with revisiting my old volunteer stomping ground and Pisqueño friends. The recent trip would have been absolutely perfect save for me lackadaisically eating or drinking the something that had made me ill.

When my travel-buddy-to-be suggested that we leave for Arequipa together, he double checked to see if I might want to wait until I was feeling better, but I told him Nah. I suspected that it didn’t make much difference and like him I was ready to see some more Peruvian sites since I had now let myself get pretty curious from the descriptions I continued to hear. The guide books had nothing on what was relayed in person. I previously had planned to spend the majority of my time volunteering and only visit Machu Picchu and nearby areas. However, I was now drawn towards the ruins, magnificent nature, and additional sites now within a country’s reach. Though Huacachina was touristy and just a few visits away, while in Pisco, it didn’t have the feel of Arequipa. Now, imagine how it suddenly startled my system and you can easily imagine how the feel of tourism in Cusco’s main square blew me away. Fortunately, I had many opportunities to get off that beaten track.

As far as me only partially remembering the Arequipa region – I do especially recall touring Colca Canyon with my new travel friend. We had also been taken on a deeper tour that acquainted us with the little Incan girl, now deemed the Frozen Ice Maiden. She had been one of the young child sacrifices. She was raised for this. She needed to be a virgin, treated nobly, and following her uphill journey to pacify the Gods, she would be given her last portions of coca leaves and other intoxicants, with the intent of dulling her final moments. Her body had been discovered by an anthropologist. With the melting of her ice tomb (via a nearby erupting volcano), she became another microscope to the history of a premiere civilization.

We watched a short film, before viewing the maiden. (Her body is usually displayed in the Museo Santuarios Andinos but sometimes others sit in her place). There are the additional mummies to be seen there as well. My mind wondered and wandered about her because with all these adornments around her resting place and the accompanying rituals, I knew that her community had not anticipated that she would appear anywhere else other than where they had placed her. Yet, I knew this was a huge piece of what connects us all. I wondered about the ritual itself – what her community wanted versus what she would have wanted. There is a lot to think about, relating to how we all move about the world, now as well, and I would know little, if anything, had she not been discovered. Coming to occupy a space that shares infinite energy and stories serves to rock me from time to time. It could be in the hometowns of my sweet departed parents or somewhere like this, only just hearing a story.

I took an additional city tour by myself one day. I was taking this abbreviated one since my friend would be taking a longer one that involved hiking the canyon. (Suddenly I’m recalling he and I also wandering through the intricate structure of a former monastery – but then again there’s that vagueness creeping in). I chose the additional half-day city tour to facilitate my stopover in Arequipa since I didn’t have much time. I would be staying in my next destination of Cusco for a couple of months, where I would be volunteering and taking in an even more picturesque environment that meant unique animals, ruins, city tours, live music, and gracious and mutually curious encounters.

My expedited half-day venture began with the bus just seemingly materializing outside my hostel in the early morning hours. (It is quite nice, however, that these tour groups typically include a pick up at every purchaser’s various hostel or hotel and I’m intrigued by how patient the drivers seem as they get out and knock at the doors of delayed trip goers). I was ready already. This was probably because I had some unhealthy paranoia of being left.

I had quietly left my temporary travel partner who would be venturing out later. He was still asleep and talking in it. It was quite fascinating that he did have full unconscious conversations (He had forewarned me.) Every time I tried to get involved in one, it was quite clear that him suddenly thinking I was within his dream wasn’t how that worked at all. Darn.

Here, I end my somewhat vague Arequipa-stay with some final apologies. Sorry for just an acquaintanceship. Though I want to think a part of you is etched in my mind, I fear that sometimes when I picture your Plaza de las Armas (your main square), I am actually inserting pictures of my life in Cusco, (understandably so, since it came to be more of a temporary home to me). Yet, I pause here to thank you for indulging me for one of my New Year’s Eve’s and giving me the chance to pass some extended time with a PSF friend. I appreciate you being the place that dissipated some lasting ill feelings and showing me my first rental hostels where I could chillax. I’m glad I came to pass the time with even more people who shifted from being strangers in a matter of minutes to being adventurous partners and kindred spirits. Indeed, I am grateful you gave me one more life chapter to write.