Just a few days before his 70th birthday, my landlord Abelardo invited me, with advance notice, requesting that I plan to join his family in a traditioinal “Pacha Mancha” celebration — which literally translates to “Earth Oven” — or a meal cooked in the earth.
This post contains 147 photos spanning that celebration on December 2, 2014 up to January 9, 2015.
As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.
CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION
Pacha Mancha
Pacha is the Quechua word for earth. When you hear the phrase “Pacha Mama” this is the old Inca way of saying “Mother Earth”.
Mancha is the Quechua word for oven.
On December 2, 2014, I participated in a fascinating celebration of my landlord’s 70th birthday. His friend, and our gardener, Nicolas, cooked the magical earth-oven dinner from start to finish.
This little fire pit is out at the upper end of the fields in front of my kitchen, just below the flower garden and gate that lead into my river playground.
Beneath the wood, the fire pit is lined with large rocks to hold and contain the heat. In this photo, the fire has just been lit. A large metal grate is placed over the wood, and on top of the grate is a very large pile of rocks similar to the ones under the wood. The fire will make those rocks very hot.
The fire is getting hotter as Nicolas, the gardener and Abelardo’s friend, is working with the earth as the fire continues to burn. Right now it is smoldering with really hot coals.
A closeup of the same scene.
All of the food is laid out in preparation for the cooking.
And there is a lot of chicken and pork as well.
Many of Nicolas’s family help by wrapping all the meat up in foil pouches.
A busy work crew.
Nicolas preparing the coals.
Saving some of the coals by the side.
The metal grate has been carefully removed and all of the hot rocks are piled on the sides.
Just about ready for the food.
First the various types of potatoes are placed directly on the hot rocks lining the bottom of the pit.
Next, all of the meat is placed on top of that.
Then Nicolas carefully places some of the hot rocks on top of the meat in the foil packets.
On top of that goes more meat and then bananas.
And then a pineapple and some squash.
On top of that go more rocks and then a plastic tarp.
And then another tarp.
On top of the second tarp, Nicolas spreads a lot of lima beans, still in their pods.
And then again, another tarp.
Finally, the tarp is covered with soil to help keep the heat inside.
Continuing to shovel on more earth.
Meanwhile, out in the river playground, the party is about to begin. This man brought his accordion.
And some of Abelardo’s relatives playing guitar and singing.
Having fun with the band.
My landlord, Abelardo, taking photos, and enjoying being the center of attention.
Talking to one of his sisters.
Posing with family and friends.
Dancing with his sister.
Me, enjoying the whole occasion, sitting on the sidelines.
Lots of family came to celebrate. The bench they are sitting on is the one that I normally sit on just outside my kitchen window.
More family. The man in the background is Abelardo’s cousin. He comes frequently to check on the garden and on Chuck (the dog) when Abelardo is traveling. He is actually Chuck’s real owner.
And this is beautiful Chuck (Pronunced in Spanish as shoe-k).
More dancing.
Extended family sitting on the river wall.
In the middle of the party, a neighbor comes down the irrigation channel to adjust the ditch controls. This is a common sight when I am out here doing ceremonies alone.
The band members get tired and sit down to continue. The man standing on the right is Epifanio (the one in the light colored shirt). He is Abelardo’s brother, and is the one that met me in Cusco on the morning of August 29, 2014, when I had a broken arm. Epifanio was so kind and gentle when he escorted me from the collectivo (minivan) stop, guiding me down the street, across a foot bridge, and down another block to the Clinica Pardo where I found an orthopedic surgeon to take care of my broken bone.
Abelardo taking a short break.
The family drank several cases of these large beer bottles (not visible in the thumbnail image) … as I was later (at night) trying to sleep downstairs, they continued to party loudly upstairs.
Someone sprinkled confetti on all of us.
Abelardo, toasting his seventieth birthday.
Chuck having fun just watching.
The music was mostly continuous all afternoon.
Finally, at around 3:30 p.m., Nicolas begins to remove the dirt from the Pacha Mancha … apparently the food is done.
When they pull back the tarp, lots of hot steam escapes.
Continuing to remove the tarp.
First, the lima beans are removed from between the tarps.
And here they are.
Next, the remaining two tarps are pulled back.
Nicolas and his son remove the bananas, pineapple, and squash.
Next, the meat is unwrapped and placed in large pans. I hope they are clean.
Finally, hot moist potatoes are removed from the bottom.
All of the food is then carried out to the river playground where Nicolas and his son then begin to put it on plates.
Chuck watches on eagerly. I think he knows that he will get to eat many of the scraps.
This is my overfilled plate. The large corn (called choclo) was cooked inside the house.
And the music continues. Another man came late and began to play along with them.
A view from the platform above the dam.
A very nice profile photo of Epifanio.
And the dancing continues as Abelardo and Epifanio dance with family members.
And the cousin joins in as well.
At one point, Abelardo approached me with his had outstretched. I tried to tell him that I don’t dance, but he insisted. I danced one dance with him. It made me a little nervous because he asked his sister to take a video of our entire dance together. “Why would he want a video of us dancing together?” I pondered as I awkwardly moved my feet, trying to mimic their style.
More dancing and music.
A nice photo of Abelardo and Epifanio.
The man with the white baseball cap is Abelardo’s cousin. I am not sure who the other one is … but a family member for sure.
Looking up at the mountains across the valley.
Another view from a distance.
The corn field (maize) across the river. It is now getting very tall.
And the other corn field, slightly upstream … is also growing rapidly.
But for now, the river is still quite low.
My left hand, rubbing Chuck’s neck.
It was a very fun and culturally-educating afternoon, with great food. But needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep with all the family partying late into the night.
A Shared Ceremony
On December 10, 2014, my friend Diana came to visit me and we did a ceremony together. She is a magical young woman that I met in Guatemala … and who later joined me at the Temple of the Way of Light in the jungle just outside of Iquitos. She was a yoga teacher there … and during a vacation break, came to experience the Sacred Valley.
Diana, sitting on my kitchen bench, glowing with a huge smile while catching a little sun on her legs.
As we talked prior to our ceremony, I showed Diana this domino that I have recently found in the garden just below my kitchen wall. It has special metaphorical significance to me and I wanted a photo of it.
Some beautiful flowers just over the wall from my playground.
A San Pedro (Huachuma) cactus growing on the river wall.
Looking up at Mount Pitusiray with the cactus in the foreground.
A ladybug on a nearby plant. Lots of ladybugs visited me during December.
More of those beautiful flowers.
A view of the flower garden.
More flowers.
On that day, the river turned to chocolate color.
Part of the chocolate irrigation ditch.
And the chocolate river itself.
The chocolate pool and chocolate dam.
Looking downstream at the chocolate water.
More of those gorgeous flowers.
… mixed with very magical cactus plants.
This is the little irrigation channel that run from the ditch-controls in the river playground, down between two walls that separate Abelardo’s property from the neighbor property.
Looking back toward the river playground.
The sky was beautiful that day.
And the clouds were very “stringy” with little white fluffy lines.
A zoomed view of a canyon on the side of Pitusiray.
Me, later in the ceremony. My hair was all tangly and wet. I sat in the irrigation ditch for a while and was quite wet.
A Total Shutdown
At midnight on Sunday night, just as Monday December 15, 2014 was beginning, I heard a great deal of noise outside of my bedroom window. There were loud horns honking, along with the thump thump of large rocks being rolled around – plus lots of voices.
I had been informed a few hours earlier that we were going to have a “paro” which literally translated means “stoppage” – but essentially means “strike”.
Apparently, there was a boundary dispute between the Calca Province (the entire region from Cusco to Urubamba) and the neighboring province that encompasses the town of Quillabamba. Somewhere along the border, Quillabamba had built a school that was actually on Calca Province property. Once the error was discovered, the government decided to solve the problem by simply giving the land from the Calca province to the other province.
The people in the Calca province would have none of that nonsense. They felt invaded and they called a general strike to protest. For all of Monday and Tuesday, midnight to midnight on both December 15 and 16th, the entire region was on complete shutdown. All major roads were barricaded and every store, bank, market, hotel, and government office was closed. Literally all commercial activity came to a complete and utter stop.
The road from Calca toward Lares was blocked directly in front of my bedroom window.
I stepped outside my house at about 7:00 a.m. on Dec 15 to take a look at what was going on. You can see a large concrete telephone pole partially blocking the road down below.
This is looking up the road from the door of my house. This barricade is directly outside of my bedroom window, blocking the entire street over to the “mule monument” on the far side.
Right now, there are only about 20 or 30 people standing around. They even have a fire and are cooking food.
A slightly different angle.
Another photo.
About two hours later, there were several hundred people standing in the street as men on loudspeakers rallied the crowd in some type of labor meeting.
The noisy crowd continued to grow as the morning continued with rallies and speeches. At one point I opened my door to check and there were so many people hiding from a light rain that I could not step outside. A man was animatedly yelling on a megaphone right by my door.
“Mucha bulla”, I giggled as the man paused to look at me. (That means a lot of ruckus and noise.)
“Welcome to Peru, we make a lot of noise here,” he giggled back at me (in Spanish of course).
“Continue on,” I smiled and implied my approval, closing the door with a giggle.
I was developing a new appreciation as to why Jeanette and I could not travel from Copacabana to Puno for two days in Mid November. I could only imagine that the road barricades there were much like this one.
Meanwhile, in the midst of the work stoppage, Nicolas was out back, in my garden, beginning to add adobe blocks to the short wall between Abelardo’s property and the neighbor’s property behind my kitchen. He didn’t stop until he ran out of adobe blocks. He could not get more until the strike was done.
I didn’t take any more photos on the first or second day. I wish I had, but did not take my camera with me when I went out to explore the town. There was literally no business activity anywhere. Most every door was closed tight. Only a few people were out walking around, and absolutely no vehicles or motorcycles. The adults that I saw looked distraught and exhausted, along with the occasional drunk passed out here or there. The children I saw were excitedly playing as if nothing was going on. It was quite the contrast of adult exhaustion and childlike excitement.
I have never seen a place so shut down … literally no traffic on the roads … a complete stoppage of all commercial activity, except for a few people casually walking around.
As far as I could tell by the sounds outside my window, the barricades were cleared at midnight on Tuesday night. On Wednesday morning I stepped outside my door for a couple more photos. I was surprised to see that the barricade had been greatly strengthened before being partially dismantled. More large rocks, plus that concrete telephone pole had been used to block the street. Now the road was open, but no one bothered to remove the blocks for many days to come.
A closeup of the remaining blockage.
Christmas Eve Ceremony
On Christmas Eve, my friend Diana and her friend (my new friend) Mathieu came to spend some time with me and we enjoyed another magical ceremony together.
This is Diana, having a magical time exploring my flower garden.
She found a beautiful rose. I love this photo of her. If you enlarge the photo, you can see Mathieu off to the right.
Diana and Mathieu posing with the flower.
A beautiful photo of the two of them playing in the flourishing garden.
Another photo of the river. I took this photo as a memory, because during the ceremony today, I decided that it was finally time for me to get down there in that pool. The water was getting higher and I felt that now was the time — I finally had enough strength in my right wrist to catch myself, and if I didn’t do it today the water would be too high and rough in the future.
Carefully removing my watch and cell phone (from my pocket), I walked down in there fully clothed and enjoyed the freezing water for a good ten minutes, standing up to my armpits in the pool just about five feet below the water fall. It was a very energizing experience.
Later, still wet from my first excursion, I very carefully waded out into the upper part of this water fall (upper level) and sat down on the large rock that sits about two feet above the brink of the dam. It was magical (and cold). Later I went in and took a warm shower before putting on clean clothes.
Looking upstream. The river is higher than usual (based on my past experience) … but is about to get much higher … so much so that this Christmas Eve was the last time I have been down in the water.
The maize field just above the dam continues to grow rapidly.
A look at the bridge just above the dam. Diana and I walked back and forth across this river today, but we were very careful to hang onto that bridge above to get stability.
We had a lot of fun playing around in the corn field on the other side.
That beautiful rose in the flower garden.
Looking back at my kitchen. The field below has still not been replanted.
Enjoying the sun with the bottom part of my pants zipped off.
Diana got creative with this one.
And I felt giggly and silly … thus the crazy facial expression.
I’m not sure whose idea it was, but we all put a rose petal on our noses, just goofing around.
Diana with her rose petal.
And another one, with magical sun-ray effects coming down from above.
Me, just being silly.
And another photo that I love (without the rose petal).
Mathieu still being silly.
I love the orbs down below. They didn’t show up in our normal vision, but are all over the photos that I took. The one on the right has rainbow bands through it. (Enlarge the photo to see them.)
And this purple orb is beautiful.
The focus on the orb is sharper in this photo.
the river is getting chocolaty again.
Looking downstream, I love that purple orb again … and I love how it is in a different spot so that I know it is not just a spot on the camera, and in this angle, I am not even looking directly into the sun.
If you click and enlarge the photo, you can also see the rainbow orb again on the far right side.
In this one, the purple orb has moved to the bottom.
Just love these orbs.
Finishing A New Wall
On New Year’s Eve, Nicolas’s family put the final finishing touches on this new wall right beside my kitchen. I had a lot of fun watching them build it — and in my process, the timing of the building brought great metaphorical meaning in ways I won’t try to explain here.
An older young man works on top of the wall while a young woman helps to hoist mud up from below. Her daughter is playing under that tarp (it was sprinkling earlier).
In this photo you can can see the child under the tarp.
Replanting At Last
On the morning of January 9, 2015, I giggled when i stepped outside to see an unexpected treat. Several young men, and other family members, were in the fields just outside of my kitchen window, using a team of bulls to plow the old weeds and cauliflower stubble, preparing to plant a new crop.
They started in the upper field.
Chuck (the dog) had fun hanging out with them.
This photo is with no zoom, showing the activity in the distance.
Zoomed in, showing them plowing the upper field.
Finally, they began to plow right beside my kitchen. This is them plowing along the new wall.
I got a few really nice photos with them being so close.
Coming right toward me, just ten feet away.
Passing right by me.
Over on the other side of the lower field.
A closeup showing their harnesses.
The whole family was helping to remove weeds etc, including this young girl in the lower right.
Making great progress.
This young woman even helped with her little girl strapped to her back.
A real family affair.
I love this photo.
Just about done. They are now plowing right up close to the patio area on the right.
When they finished, they tied a large flat board where the plow had been before, and they drug that board all over, back and forth, to flatten the furrows.
More flattening …
I didn’t take more photos, but soon they went through with the plow again and put a deep furrow every ten feet or so.
They had actually plowed the entire field twice before leveling it off. After the first plowing they scattered seeds all over, and then plowed it again, and then flattened it.
For several days, birds landed all over the field trying to find unburied seeds.
Nicolas told me in December they were going to plant pasture for guinea pig food. As the grain grows taller (in March), it looks a lot like wheat. Perhaps it is wheat, and perhaps it is another type of similar grain … I am going to have to find out.
Summary
This concludes my photos for this post. It has been a very eventful year, ending in the last two months with magical visits from friends, a total work stoppage with events right outside my house, and the planting of new crops for the future.
What a beautiful metaphor for what I have been through, massive heart opening and undoing of ego conditioning, met with a total stopping of the old, met with new growth in friendships, and the planting of new seeds for the future.
Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved