2-14-11
Today was interesting and enlightening in a variety of ways. Let me explain. I woke up early to go running with Olivia. It’s difficult to run at high altitudes, heck, that’s why the African Olympians train at Academy’s track right? Well Cusco is about double the altitude of Albuquerque. So Olivia and I ran for a little while, then returned home to get ready to go to school. When I got home I showered, but I started feeling worse and worse, to the point that I could barely stand. I trembled, my heart raced, and I felt nauseous and incredibly cold. After the shower I decided that I probably shouldn’t go to school and I told my host mom that I didn’t feel well. Almost immediately she diagnosed me, saying “el viento te hace daño.” My western mind would not accept that as an explanation and so I kept asking them to explain, but perhaps I was too delirious to understand. She, however, seemed to know exactly what I needed to get better and knew all my symptons without my even having to tell her. She got some pure alcohol, poured some into her hands, rubbed them together, then made me smell the alcohol fumes repeatedly. This made me cough, as you can imagine. Then my host dad came and rubbed some herbs on my forehead. He later told me that they burned the herbs later and they made a terrible racket, popping about as they burned. Herbs should not do that, right? My host mom made me some mate de coca, and then I went to sleep for the next five hours. The weird thing is that I felt totally fine when I woke up, so their explanation seemed to make sense, even if I was unfamiliar with it. Oddly enough, their remedies did make me feel better.
Later they explained a little more that I cannot go directly from being warm in my bed to cold outside, then return to that warmth in the shower. They thought the changes in temperature were too jarring for my body.
My host mom finally woke me up at two so that I could eat lunch and go to school for the afternoon. I really did feel much better after sleeping, having a hot water bottle at my feet, as well as expelling whatever was bad from my stomach. Ugh, being sick sucks! But my family really surpassed itself taking care of me. For lunch my host mom gave me only bland foods that my stomach could handle, as well as celery tea. I’ve never had celery tea before, but it tastes much like celery soup, only tea-like. She said it was good for my stomach, and it really did calm it down. And now I know the word for celery in Spanish, which I did not this morning (apio). I’m astonished at how much better I felt.
I left for the afternoon session of class and tried to explain to my classmates as best I could what had happened to me, even though I was befuddled as well. I missed Quechua, but I’m not too sad about that. I did, however, make it for the most interesting lecture so far. The speaker, or expositor as they say in Spanish, was Jake’s host uncle and I’d met him before. The reading last night was interesting, but not nearly as interesting as his lecture. He spoke to us about Paqos (or Andean Shaman) and Andean Religiosity. There isn’t so much an Andean religion anymore so much as a worldview. The odd thing about Incan religion and Catholicism is that they mesh really well, which has lead to a syncretic religion that manages to balance God/Huaricocha, the Virgin Mary/Pachamama, and the saints and angels/ apus. Today we learned that apus are sort of like natural spirits that live everywhere. Every mountain has an apu, every river has one, etc… He also spoke about the three worlds of Andean belief. I forget their names at the moment, but Catholics again took them and interpreted them to mean heaven, earth, and hell. However, the three worlds are different. There aren’t so much supernatural powers in every world, rather normal men and women like us. The swiss lady spoke to us about pre-incan art and how the art reflects the balance of all three worlds within the same being. That explains it, kind of. If you have more positive, light energy you belong more to the upper world, just as heavy energy will sink you towards the lower world. I am probably failing to describe this adequately, but I found it fascinating.
Then during break Donaldo asked the speaker, Juan Murillo, to explain to me what my family meant when they said that the wind did me harm and if he could help me at all. He was more than willing. He took me into Sonia’s office and made me hold a glass of water. He then put his hands around mine and said some words, all the while warming my cold hands. Then he put his hands on top on my head, speaking in Quechua and occasionally blowing the top of my head. Then he was done and told me I was better. Before that he’d explain that the wind was the spirit of a saqo, sort the spirit of a giant that was trapped on earth and tried to take the health of others so that it could once again live. He told me that was what had happened to me this morning but his ritual had taken that spirit from me. I don’t know how much of this I believe, but it is hard to stay disbelieving when so many truly believe in this worldview and they appear to gain results.
My host sister, Iris the chemist, told me later at dinner that she spent time in a village near Trujillo doing research and the altitude and cold affected her to the point that she could not hold on to any strength, warmth, nor could she stand. The Paqo of the village did a similar ritual and within twenty minutes she could stand and walk, feeling warm once again. She, as a scientist, and me as a westerner were both skeptical, but astonished at the results. Can you help but believe?
xo Claire
ps- Happy Valentine’s Day! ¡Feliz Día de la Amistad!
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