The test of this post is a (slightly edited) transcription of my journal entries for the pilgrimage to Señor de Qoyllurritti. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully explain the pilgrimage, at least not without making it many more times. But I hope this will give you a sense of the whole thing in all its music and dancing.
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| The image of Señor de Qoyllurritti |
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| The Camp |
Saturday May
21
I get up at 6:30 in order to be ready to leave for Cusco with Rachel
at 7. We leave at 7:45 but I've got plenty of time. Julia tells me to
meet Marco at La Canasta (a grocery story) to pick up the tent at 9.
At 9:30 I call her from a payphone to check in. “Marco has
something come up and he has to move water. Do you want to meet him
at Sol de Oro (the bus stop by their house)? Are you in a hurry?”
“No, I've got time.”
“Ok. Meet him at 10:30.”
I walk up Avenida La Cultura to try out Q'ospo Maki's break. It's
very good. They're kind of lik Homeboy Industries. I could see myself
starting a Homeboy'like bakery in Boston, but I still think teaching
is for me. I buy some apples and scotch at Plaza Vea for the trip up
the mountain. At 10:30 I meet Marco and get the tent. “You've got
everything you need – alcohol, coca?” he asks. (Let's take a
moment and appreciate that the two necessities on this trip are booze
and a banned substance.
“Don't worry I'm all set.”
In the evening I start getting a little anxious, but not enough to
freak out. My bag is packed but I don't know when/where we leave
from, and I can't find Bobbi. He had tole me around 11pm so I go to
mass. He finds me immediately afterwards in the plaza. He's full of
excited stress/nervousness.
“Benja! We leave at 2 from the paradero (bus stop). You have
everything you need?”
“At 2, not 12 right? Yeah I'm good.”
“Ok. I have to go. We're receiving petitions from people who can't
go up. I'll see you at 2.” And with jingling bells, he's off.
Lauren,
Erin and I eat dinner with the catechism retreat group. I get home at midnight and sleep for an hour.
Sunday May 22
I get up at 1:15. I check my pack, put on my jacket, vest, scarf and
hat. Downstairs I make some tea. One mug I drink, the other I pour
into my thermos.
Walking down the street, I expect to be the first ot arrive. Then I
hear Bobbi's voice: “Benja, apúrate! (hurry up). Hora peruana, it
seems, does not apply here. Bobbi offers me a seat in the bus, but I
ask to ride with him in the truck. We all lay down on the floor on
top of some blankets and throw more blankets on top of ourselves. The
roof is open and the moon is full and bright. She dances across the
opening as we wind up the mountain roads.
Before Ccatcca we stop to pay homage at a roadside chapel. It´s
colder and windier as we move on. I must fall asleep at some point
because I wake up cold. After some encouragement by Bobbi, I put
aside my pride and pull out my sleeping bag. We arrive at Mahuayani
and sleep till about 7.
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| Mahuayani |
After
unloading, the first thing to do is pay homage at the chapel of
Mahuayani. Then we wind past parked buses and find some breakfast –
steaming bowls of caldo
de gallina (chicken
soup) with lots of potatoes.
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| The chapel of Mahuayani |
Finally
we set out up the trail. Walking with the comparsa
(the dance group) is pretty easy. They stop often and for a long
time. At certain designated places we stop to play music and bow
before the image we are carrying. You must remove your hat when the
music starts. I like that, God becoming present through music.
At
one place all the first timers have to tie 3 knots in a blade of
grass with their left hands while gazing towards the mountain where
Señor de Qoylurritti is. I failed and received 3 hits on the behind
while I knelt as the man with the whip said “Dios
yaya, Dios chuya, Dios Espíritu Santo.”
(God the father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit). They didn't hurt
because the guy didn't hit hard and because I was wearing 2 layers of
pants. After I stood the leader said “Bienvenidos
a la comparsa”
(welcome to the group).
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| The walk begins |
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| A place to stop and sing. |
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| Break time. |
After
a few hours of walking, we arrive. There are stands to buy mini
versions of what you want to ask el Señor for. What do I ask for? I
don't know. I can't sleep in the comparsa's
celda
(the big one room shelter they built for themselves years ago), so
Bobbi helps me find a place nearby to set up the tent. Thankfully, it
proves to be waterproof.
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| The temple |
I watch some dances and go to a mass, where Jesuits I recongize from
one of the FyA retreats last year are serving. They leave before I
can catch them.
I buy myself a whip as a souvenir. Whips are a big part of Señor de Qoylurritti. In some ways, the pilgrimage takes the place of the sacrament of confession. A key part of the Qollas' dance involves pairs of men whipping each other to cleanse each other of their sins. The two then embrace as an expression of brotherly love and gratitude to the other for cleansing them. After a long time observing the
whole scene – which I can't yet put into words – I go to my tent
to pray. Following a prayerbook about the Spiritual Exercise, I
meditate on my sinfulness, on the failings that, unlike my inability
to knot grass, are unknown and unpunished. I ask the Lord for specific
help with specific sins and then lie down for my sleep.
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| A dancer. There were plenty of different colorful costumes. |
It's noisy with dancing, selling, and the general crowd, but I am
warm and dry and that's enough. I fall asleep quickly.
Monday May 23
Bobbi
wakes me up at 3am – they're going to dance. But I decide to sleep
in. I wake up around 7:30. I eat some apples and peanuts for
breakfast and drink the ponche
(hot drink made from ground fava beans and milk) I bought last night and stored in my thermos. Because there are so many different ways to make it, ponche is always a toss up. This ponche is kinda gross.
Today's
theme (based on the 2nd
week of the Spiritual Exercises) is encounter with Christ. I skim the
prayers in the book to get an idea and settle on focusing on whatever
today's Gospel reading is. (It turns out to be the rich young man).
When I leave the tent I bump into Bobbi. He invites me to breakfast
in the celda.
After using the hole-in-the-ground toilet, brushing my teeth, and
washing my face, I head over to eat my break with quaker
(and oatmeal drink). It turns out there's a second course to
breakfast – a greasy soup with fried potato shavings. It's not
good, but I eat until I'm full to be polite.
After
breakfast I go to take pictures of mass. I talk for a bit with a
Swiss guy, then I see Jorge the Jesuit scholastic. I go over to him
and after mass ends we find the Jesuits' celda.
Everyone's there – Pd. Eddy (because Pd. Alejo, who is the Jesuit
in charge of Qoylurritti, is sick), Ibán (the French volunteer in
Ocongate), Fabio (the Spanish volunteer in Andahuaylillas), and
Fabián (the Jesuit deacon in Ocongate). Later on I meet Wilber, the
lead catechist in Quispicanchi, and Pd. Santuco, a Cusco Jesuit.
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| Pd. Eddy, a priest from Lima, is trying to keep high spirits despite the cold. |
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| The inside of the Jesuit's celda. They probably have the only flush toilet in the whole place. |
Pd. Eddy is scheduled to say the 10am mass, the same mass the
Andahuaylillas Qollas are dancing at. I position myself behind the
altar to take photos. I catch Bobbi´s eye and Pd. Eddy and Fabián.
During the homily I notice Fabio and Ibán in the plaza. I climb down
to them to have someone to greet at the kiss of peace.
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| The Qollas of Andahuaylillas behind the altar, ready to dance during mass. |
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| The masses at mass. |
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| The preacher doing his thing. Note the various flags, representing the 7 Nations represented at Qoyllurritti (not modern nation-states, but cultural groups from within Peru) |
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| Every mass ends with Holy Water. |
After
mass there's talk of lunch, but some head to the next mass (which
dedicated to the pabluchas,
dancers with specific costumes and responsibilities in the
pilgrimage). Fabio takes a nap and I decide to find higher ground for
a good photo. On the way I pass a group dressed in matching blue
jackets.
“Viene
Jesús! Mira es Jesús!”
(Jesus is coming! Look, it's Jesus!). Used to hearing this joke from
students and strangers alike, I decide to grin and wave back. “Ven,
ven!”
(Come, come!) they tell me. So I walk over. “You're getting
married. To her!” They point to a young woman in the crowd who
looks slightly embarrassed but is laughing.
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| The group that calls me over. |
“Oh really?” I ask. My friends at the parish gift shop told me
that people hold pretend weddings at Qoyllurritti, and that it was a
fun game that I should play if I could.
“Of course. Come over here.” The “priest” performs the
marriage ceremony to general amusement. There are godparents (a
common Peruvian practice for all important events) and a witness.
Marta, my new wife, points to her cheek when it's time for the kiss.
Some paper rings are exchanged and a cord is placed around our necks.
Then the game ends. I get a photo taking with “Pd. César” and
Marta.
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| The happy couple. |
I
eat lunch with the Jesuits and they pay (a perk of being a Jesuit
volunteer). After lunch I climb to the glacier, having somehow missed
the procession. I'm warned not to get to close to the glacier or I'll
be whipped (it should be noted here that the pabluchos
whip people for any infraction – drinking in public, wearing a hat
near a dancing comparsa
or an image of Christ, and getting to close to the glacier, which is
sacred. In a way they are the even security staff). I kneel down as
near as I can get and pray for Pachamama, the earth, and for
humanity. May we read the signs of the times. May we not melt this
glacier away. May we be wise enough to stop this madness.
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| The glacier. I am told that 20 years ago, it covered the spot from which I take this photograph. |
I talk with a lonely accordionist and take a few photos. On the way
down I stop by a small stone arch to pray about the Gospel reading.
“I know what I want to ask for. I want to fulfill this mission this
year and live it full. Next year I want to figure out how to live the
values of Spirituality, Simple Living, Community, and Social Justice
at home. Let me continue to serve under your banner.”
On my walk back down I pass a part of the camp where you can buy your petitions. There are men and women selling model cars, toy houses, and stacks of fake bills. "50,000 dollars for 1 sol" calls out a vendor. I'm grateful that that isn't the real exchange rate, because then my $60 monthly stipend would come out to 12 tenths of a Peruvian cent. You can also buy a small plot of land and use rocks to construct a house. I've been told many times that Catholicism is a sensual religion (not that it's sexy, but that it uses the sense to connect us to God); I suppose this is a example of that spiritual sensuality.
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| I don't know what this group is doing, but I'm sure it's important. |
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| A model house. |
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| Get your wishes here. |
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| One of the main stages for dancing was outside the doors to the temple. |
Bobbi arrives and confirms that I can stay in the celda tonight. It turns out there will be enough space. I bring my stuff over and am served hot semola soup. It's much better than the breakfast soup was. I help serve out tea in order to not feel like a complete freeloader. I have pretty much no way to give back to the comparsa; this is poverty of spirit.
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| A Qolla's costume hanging on the wall inside the Andahuaylillas celda. That's a vicuña pelt. |
After
dinner I mill around getting to know people. I talk with Andrés, a
visitor from Lima and another guest of the comparsa,
and with Sr. Adolfo, who is the head of the comparsa
this year (leadership rotates on a yearly basis). I thank him for his
generosity. “No, thank you.
Some friends always come with us.” And he tells me about of JVs who
have come to Qoyllurritti.
Tuesday May 24
It's about midnight. I'm standing with other non-dancers between two
lines of Qollas from Andahuaylillas. We enter the temple,
charging forward towards the Lord, singing and dancing. The
non-dancers are pushed to the walls, and the Qollas make a
space for dancing. Other comparsas enter to dance for the
Lord. Some songs are repeated but some are unique. At least an hour,
and 24 comparsas, pass us by. Then the Qollas of
Andahuaylillas take the floor and the temple is full of their song.
They do not rush – this is sacred. Then we leave. The temple is
still full of song and dance, but we go back to the celda to
sleep. Others will keep up the praise.
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| Ready to enter the temple. |
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| A key part of many costumes is the montera, a flat cap that the men wear over their shoulders to show off the elaborate designs. |
We are up before the sun. Somehow I lose the group but I make my way
up the pampa along to see all the pabluchos coming back down.
I find María and together we wait for the sun to crest the
mountains. When it finally does everyone falls to their knees. They
call this the Inti Alabado, the praise of the sun.
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| Pabluchos coming down after spending the night on the glacier. |
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| The pabluchos from Andahuaylillas. Pablucho refers to the men wearing this shaggy costume. They have very specific roles to play throughout the whole pilgrimage, including event security. They use their whips to keep people in line. I'm not kidding. Pd. Eddy got hit in the face for wearing his hat at the wrong moment. |
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| Inti Alabado |
After that, María and I go to the Jesuit's celda to find the
other volunteers from Andahuaylillas. The bishop arrives and we are kicked out of the priests' space. The
final mass starts but we hear nothing because of the pabluchos
dancing in from of the temple. The mass ends, and it's time to go in
peace, by the high road or the low.
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| The volunteers of Andahuaylillas. Lauren, Erin, Mafer, Nicol, Karla, María, Carmen (actually the parish administrator), Benjamin, and Karina |
I return to the Andahuaylillas celda to prepare
to leave. I pack my back and Bobbi and I leave before more of the
group. We buy some snacks and take the path to the right, heading up
the side of the mountain. When we reach the top, we rest. “Benja.
Despídete del Señor” (say goodbye to the Lord). We turn towards
the sanctuary and I thank God for brining me here, for letting me be
a witness for Him.
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| While most people head back down to Mahuayani, I follow Bobbi up the trek to Tayankani. |
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| So far, so good. |
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| If you were wondering what Bobbi looks like, now you know. |
At the ridge, the image of Señor de Tayankani (which belongs in the
sanctuary we will reach at the end of our 24 hike) rests for half an
hour. We rest too. When the image of Christ moves again, the men of
Andahuaylillas take turns carrying him. That lasts for about half an
hour until it is time for that duty to be passed off to another
comparsa.
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| The Señor de Tayanki takes his 30 minute rest. The pabluchos accompanying him kneel down. |
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| A man carries the image of Señor de Tayankani |
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| The women take turns carrying an image of the Virgin Mary. |
My stomach isn't well as I climb down the path. At the next rest I
have to crouch behind a rock and leave a very smelling (but all
natural) offering to Pachamama. At least there is a nice view of a
group of llamas munching on grass. I feel much better afterwards.
We reach a stopping place called Llanacancha. Señor de Tayankani is
brought to rest in a small chapel. We share a lunch where everyone
has to give the food they have with them to the common pot. I can't
eat much because of my stomach.
It starts to rain, so we pack up and leave. It's dark and wet but
spirits are high and we move quickly up a gentle incline. Then it
gets colder. The rain turns to snow. The path gets steeper and the
ground turns to mud. We get to the top of the mountain and it is
beautiful but cold. I think we're stopping here, but we aren't. We
keep moving. Overtime our comparsa gets split apart along the
long line of pilgrims. Finally it's just my friend Yusandra and me.
She's tired and sad and her knees hurt. I'm tired and sad and my
stomach hurts. We make good hiking partners as we trudge on.
Sunday May 25
We're still walking. Our destination is in sight, but the town seems to get farther with every step. When we arrive we set up the tend and get inside. Sleeping is cold. My clothes are damp and the ground is cold enough that I feel it through the pad.
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| After hours of walking with wet socks. |
All too soon, Yusandra wakes me up. It's 5AM. We pack up and continue
towards the site of today's Inti Alabado. They're all in a
line on a hill, it looks like a more colorful version of a battle
scene from Lord of the Rings. The sun comes up and again everyone
kneels down. I walk with the rest of the masses to Tayankani,
finishing the long pilgrimage. My feet have warmed up a bit, and the
sun it out. It's much better than last night.
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| Inti Alabado with the flags of the Quispicanchi nation. |
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| The line of dancers waiting for the sun. |
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| You have arrived at your destination: Tayankani. |
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| A great view of the mountain Ausangate as we wait for a car. |
At Tayankani the comparsa serves food. I share my bowl of soup
with someone else because my stomach still isn't at 100%. I chat with
some of the dancers for a bit. María and I decide to take our leave
a bit early because we both have to work. We thank our hosts from the
comparsa and say our goodbyes. Then we get in a car and sleep
all the way to Andahuaylillas.
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