REFLECTIONS ON PERU

Don Johnson

Prior to departure on our voyage of discovery, my expectations of Peru were not clearly defined. I have images gleaned from National Geographic, Life, occasional newspaper and other magazine articles, television programs, PBS documentaries, the Britannica Atlas. 

So much of our lives, our perception, our "understanding" of the world comes in these ways; indirect, virtual experience. As with most people, what I thought of when Peru was mentioned was the Andes, terraces, llamas, people in very brightly colored clothing. Machu Picchu. Inca. Stonework beyond belief. All intangible, two dimensional, imagination filling in between the sparse, dry information. Probably the closest connection for me was music, the haunting, lilting notes of the flutes.

I have lived years of my life outside the United States, in countries with significant differences between classes, populations with a large percentage who work very close to the land; farming, ranching, living by the seasons, planting, harvesting, planting again. Countries whose indigenous people were influenced greatly by European occupation, whose cultures were impacted to a very large degree by this contact, the resulting nation a mixture of both. With this experience, I have some affinity for what I encountered in Peru.

First impressions were not striking, an airport not so different from others I have spent time in, a press of people, Spanish, bureaucracy, the process of reacquiring and clearing luggage. A bus ride through city streets to a thoroughly modern hotel. A hint of difference comes from the style of driving. Close tolerances are the standard, cars and buses missing each other by a matter of inches, not feet as we are used to. The standard cautions when traveling in many other countries were familiar, "watch your bags, don't drink the water, no ice, no fresh fruit".  The currency is a pleasure, colorful, interesting. The ten sole note was a pleasant surprise, the image of a pilot, his plane on the reverse side.

The morning brought "June Gloom", a familiar sight to San Diegans. Vistas of a major city tend to be similar, high rises, buildings old and new, streets suffering some state of disrepair, noise, the odors of combusted petroleum. Images of Mexico would superimpose over what I saw through bus windows or from sidewalks, construction styles and methods, the appearance of the people, the signs.

Museums are fascinating places, attempting to present a people, their humanity, their hopes, dreams, beliefs, even their physical bodies, in an effort to convey meaning across ages. The displays provide only glimpses, out of context, behind glass, out of reach. Ceramics are meant to be picked up, turned in the hands, filled with food, drink, passed from one person to another, with all the ritual of everyday life. They seem so isolated, clean, out of reach behind glass. And yet, the objects are fascinating, stimulate the imagination and raise wonder in the eyes of the beholders, admiration for the artists, envy for the owners, curiosity for the hands that held and used them.

Moving away from the city, passing into the countryside, the coast of Peru conveyed more of a sense of wonder, the lack of rainfall, the richness of the river beds in stark contrast to the blasted plains, some places with no plants whatsoever over distances of many miles.

As we visited sites located in these coastal areas, I began to feel an empathy for the people who had made these barren sites thrive and blossom, raised families, built homes, and raised the incredible works we were visiting. Visions of how I would construct the walls and mounds I saw would pass through my mind, turning over the process of manufacturing brick, logistics of moving huge quantities of material, placing this material accurately, in order to present a finished product in the way intended. How do you deal with the number of people this process required? What did the crew, at work year after year, think of what they were doing? What did the "client" think? Was he pleased with his Architect?

Meeting the Archaeologists working directly with the sites was such a rare privilege, the chance to ask what they thought as they unearthed the incredible finds, how they came to the conclusions we read about, how it all fits together. Being able to see objects just found, after centuries away from the sight of man was moving. To be in a position to actually touch the work gave me much more of a sense of the presence of the artist, was so much more meaningful than the images I was used to settling for. It was thrilling to hear the stories of discovery, as related by the people who made the discoveries. This, along with the physical material discovered, still being documented, made the trip an experience I will treasure the rest of my life.

The coast of Peru was much more than I expected. I have lived in desert environments most of my life. I know how difficult it is to maintain a civilization under these conditions. To achieve the level of civilization these people enjoyed is amazing. To maintain it for the length of time they did is astounding. As I stood on the mounds that remain of the monuments erected, looking across the distances to the ocean, the mountains, absorbing the beauty of the setting, I think I know why they chose to live where they did.

The mountains!  I stare in wonder. The Rockies have not prepared me adequately for this. The shear drops, the extent of the cliffs, the verticality are surprising. These mountains are obviously young. The high meadows are familiar, grasses waving in the wind that invariably blows at these altitudes, but when my eyes rise to the horizon, the outline of the snow covered peaks is a shock. I feel most out of place at the sight of those impossible heights.

The ruins of Inca places of worship are indeed places of magic. The sites are not chosen by accident. Everything draws on the majesty of the site, beginning with the land itself, then moving up through the stones, shaped by hand, but fitting the land in such a way that there is no doubt that they are one. These places have a presence that goes beyond the physical. Ironically, I realize that there is the same sense at the coastal sites; different as the setting is, there is this feeling in common.

Transitioning back to Lima, back to the city and all the familiar surroundings of modern life, there is a place that will remain a part of the essence that is me, that will remember the coast, the mountains, the people, past and present, and the feeling that is Peru. This is the best of experiences, the binding of humanity across time and distance.