It Takes Two to Tango

Aug 20, 2005 – Sat

Today, I have had the most amazing experience in all of my travels. Nothing can top this day. And no words can describe the experience.

My roommate, Nathalie, and I were going to go with a guide from the tourist office to walk to las Cuevas (the caves). It’s about a 7 km round trip hike and is supposed to be interesting. We went to the tourist office at 9:30am to encounter a guide named Carlitos (Nathalie had ‘booked’ the tour with him yesterday), but no one was there. We waited, then spoke with the people at the tourist hotel next door. They called the tourism office and told us to wait in the hotel’s lobby. Later, someone opened the tourist office. There was no guide, so they called one for us, but we would have to wait (apparently, this is pretty common), so we went to Internet for a bit.

Our guide, Tupaq, met us at the internet place. We walked to the edge of town and across a bridge. From the bridge, we could see a straw house being constructed. This is in preparation for the Pachamama celebrations on Monday the 22nd. It’s supposed to be a grand fiesta. In all of August, Pachamama is celebrated amongst the native/indigenous people here. It is to honor Pachamama, or Mother Earth (land). It is a tradition that I had learned about in my travels to Peru and Boliva — in museums. Tupaq talked about Pachamama, and we asked many questions. Then he suggested, rather than going to the caves, he would ask the people in the pueblo who were preparing for a Pachamama ceremonial offering, if we could watch. Nathalie and I stood outside the village, then Tupaq told us to follow him.

We walked to an area near a tree where two men were digging a hole. We were greeted by a group of people, exchanged besos (kisses) on the cheek and introduced ourselves to each other. It was a treat to be invited to watch…but they invited us to participate in the ceremony with them. In total, it was about a group of 25 native people — mostly Quechua and 2 Aymara.

Once the hole was dug, they moved the mount of dirt to the east side of the hole. One of the ladies burned a plant called seymouria(sp?) in a place of hot coals. The smell was very fragrant and strong. She then put the plate of coals and seymouria in the hole. It burned for a while — a smoking hole. The people gathered the things they needed for the offering to Pachamama and placed them by the offering site (the hole).

One of the lady’s covered the hole with two blankets, one, a colorful manta (cloth) common in the indigenous Andes. All of this initial offering work is done by the women — only women because it is for Pachamama. Then another lady spread flowers around the offering site.

We waited for a while, spoke to the people there. They told us about the significance of Pachamama, the history, and also random chitchat.

The abuela of the family hosting the ceremony (Toto’s family) came out. One lady uncovered the hole and folded the colrful manta in front of the hole. This manta served as the place where people kneel, on the west side. She also took the plate of coals out and placed it on the east side of the offering site. The abuela made the initial offerings to Pachamama. One man passed out cigarillos (cigarettes) to everyone — not for smoking, but for Pachamama to smoke.

Toto’s family went one by one and paid their respects and made offerings to Pachamama. Whoever was invited by someone else went in paris — with the person that invited them. This lasted for a while, then came my turn. An older man named Geronimo, semmingly a village elder, accompanied me because a lady he invited had not shown up. I really had no idea what to do.

For each offering, they put more of the seymouria on the plate of coals. And when it’s right in your face, your eyes burn a bit and make you want to cry. Gernonimo an dI knelt down on the manta, me on his left side. We lit our cigarillos, took a puff to start the ashes, and placed our cigarillos in the mound of dirt on the east side, with the ashy side facing up — it is like the tierra is smoking the cigarillo. The cigarillos of some of the previous offerings were completely ashen.

Next, Geronimo scooped up dirt cupped with both of his hands together. I did not understand what to do, so I cupped my hands like he did, and he told me in Spanish what to do but I still did not understand. One of the lady’s placed my cupped hands under his (duh). When people go in paris, they make the offerings together as if they were one soul. With my hands under Geronimo’s, we sprinkled the dirt in the offering hole.

After that, we offered Pachamama drinks of a gaseosa (soda), chicha de maize, white wine, red wine, rubbing alcohol, cerveza, and water. All of the drinks, except the water, were in small clay offering cups (small, like shot glasses), that one of the lady’s had poured for us. Geronimo held the cups and I put my hands under his. The water, which is very important in the ideology of Pachamama, was from a bigger glass. Again, he held the glass, I held the bottom, and he cupped one hand over mine, and my other over his. We offered the water to Pachamama — not pouring it in, but throwing it to cover the areas of the offering site.

Geronimo spoke about Pachamama, the importance of the believe in the earth, the sky, the air, the water. Pachamama means life. He had quite a speech — both of us still kneeling and my feet getting numb from the lack of circulation. At that point, I could tell that I was participating in the ceremony, offering to Pachamama, with an important pillar of the society in the pueblo.

Teh food offerings were next. Geronimo held a bowl of maize cobs (yellow and purple maize from the region), I took one and put it in the hole. Then I held the bowl and he put one in the earth. We exchanged offerings in this manner with Andean potatoes, some sort of legume, llama meat, and lastly quinoa — a grain that is very important amongst the Andean native population. Geronimo’s hands were full of quinoa, we cupped our hands together and then sprinkled the sacred grain into the offering site for Pachamama. Gernonimo then held a bag of coca leaves — another sacred plant. I grabbed some in my cupped hands. He placed his hands beneath mine and we offered the coca leaves.

To end our offering, Geronimo asked me to scoop dirt in my cupped hands. He put his hands beneath mine. I kissed the dirt, then he kissed the dirt, then we offered it to Pachamama.

The ceremony went on until everyone and everyone that had been invited had their turn at offering. The abuela went again, giving generous portions of drink offerings. We all amde offerings to Pachamama a second time, with our same partners.

When everyone was done with the second round of offerings, the abuela made another offering, generous protions, then one lady helped her cover the hole with the dirt mount that had been laying on the east side of the offering site. One person covered the mound with large rocks piling them up, and put the bottles of gaseosa, chicha, water, cerveza, and wines upside down into the rocks, as if Pachamama were drinking the drinks. Flowers were sprinkled on top of the rocks. Three brightly colored strands of hand spun lana (wool) were wrapped around the outer edge, weaving around the bottles. Toto and his family then thanked everyone individually for coming and participating.

It was an absolutely amazing experience. This was not something touristy. The people asked nothing of us, but rather thanked us for coming and participating. The natives are not such a closed society that I had originally thought, but rather do invite outsiders — non indigenous Argentinians, and in our special case, foreigners. They wish to share their traditions and culture, to keep it going as it has been for ages. They want to educate people who wish to learn about their beliefs and customs.

After the Pachamama ceremony, Toto offered everyone lunch. It seemed that if you refused, the family would be offended. Most of the lunch was the same food offered to Pachamama — signifying life. I tried the yellow Andean maize — which is extremely thick and rich, bread with really hot salsa, llama meat, Andean potatoes — which are good and a little sweet, that unknown legume, and chicha de maize. We also feasted on bowls of homemade quinoa soup that was soooo delicous! Many of the foods that the natives eat are cultivated locally.

We feasted and talked to each other for a while about various topics. Later, they invited us to a charla (chat) at the library…

***Note*** I used the term “natives” because I was informed by a Quechua guy named Ariel, a guide at the Pukara ruins, that the term “indigenous” is offensive. I think it’s a toss up as to who you speak to, because the people at the ceremony used the term “indigenous” as if it were not an offensive term to use; however, Ariel thought it was an offensive term and preferred to use the term “native”.

Tags: Tilcara, Travel

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