Usually a S./ 70 entrance fee, the Ollantaytambo ruins are relatively easy to sneak into, especially under the cover of darkness. While I haven’t been there during the day for a true comparison, the perspective that the scene offered me was much different and preferable to the one that would have included hordes of water-bottle and guidebook touting tourists:
Grey-blue clouds cover all but the most tenacious of the moon’s rays and those that do emerge are tinted with the colors of their would-be captors.
Across the valley to the east, two long strips of clouds ride along the edge of the mountains, just above where the now invisible ruins of the Incan storage buildings lay.
Just above us on the hillside, a few puffs of clouds hang just over the highest visible ruins.
The clouds to the south and across the river hang like chunks on the mountainside. Under which, I know my favorite running path lies. Just imagining its existence is a stretch, the shapes so foreign and foreboding in the dark.
The valley to the west, where I will be working in a health clinic bright and early tomorrow morning, is filled with thick and heavy clouds. Like a stew simmering overnight, waiting for the morning to revel its true flavor.
A thin mist descends on us as we stand in the temple of the sun.
Such a juxtaposition, the ancient Incan ruins in which I’m standing, a solid and pragmatic reminder of a foreign society that now lives only in history books and murals; while looking upon a modern city with cars moving along the cobble-stone streets, people walking home from the bars and electric street lamps lighting the way for all.
Sanding in what I am told is the religious center of this ancient city I am reminded of this morning’s catholic mass, held in honor or Awamaki’s Anniversary. Throughout time, culture and geography us humans always seem to find the common thread of looking for something larger than ourselves. God, god, Gods, gods, myths and stories, Science. Why is this? To interject more meaning into our short witness of this world? To make ourselves feel better about our inadequacies? Worse? To control? To relinquish control? Because there is some truth in all the myths and stories? Or do we just wish it to be true? I don’t think I will ever know.
Many of my activities make me feel small in place: be it comparing my life to a vast plain, huge mountain, the stars or the universe. Tonight, I feel small in time. History is humbling.
If you are interested here is a link to the wiki article on Ollantaytambo, which has some info on the inca ruins: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ollantaytambo
if you don't mind ads, this page actually has better info on the ruins/fortress: http://www.destination360.com/south-america/peru/ollantaytambo
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