Golden land is a magical place that just exists a few seconds each day.
Golden land is a magical place that just exists a few seconds each day.
Now that I made a temporary come back to books, music and movies I’m remembering which ones I’ve already read, heard or saw taking advantage of the Facebook (for security reasons I don’t share it) utility to add lists of interests… For now I’m around 728 movies, 226 groups of music and musicians, 178 TV series, 356 books of literature, history, philosophy, arts, architecture, etcetera, and near one hundred artists (they’re mixed with several likes…) and the list is growing… so many things I’ve seen… to me it’s almost like I had spend my life in objects that sometimes are repetitive. I know that that number just says the number of my ignorance but also I think life is so short to spend in the creations of others instead to create what our self wants to say. So I’m more focused in build my own art and knowledge, at least these moths.
I add a book or movie or musician when I remember them, among the movies today I remembered one of the most powerful and emotional I saw in my whole life, Le Grand Bleu by Luc Besson. I don’t know what say the critics, I think much more important is what do you feel so I can say that when kid it was a giant touching movie. It starts near my home, in the lake Titicaca, a free diver exploring the lake in a way I would be afraid to do because the cold waters I know (every time I go there I’m afraid to fall to the deep waters…) and it was like that gentleman was truly much more native than me, a six years old kid. Since then I loved that spirit of freedom in the waters I saw in the film, the two competitors were around the world in a competition that also was a competition against death and their will was so powerful that they could felt the sea and the lakes as a kind of true home…
What brings me to being a native… I think native is not and issue of race, more it’s about a feeling. I feel myself for example closer to Borges, I think he’s a true American man, because I understand him when he talks about the infinite horizon of his dear pampa, and that sentiment that makes him say that he feels Buenos Aires like a place that hadn’t foundation because he feels it eternal. Instead other authors, that I admire, like Vargas Llosa or García Márquez are to me actually Europeans living in America, because every time they speak about the jungle or the highlands they write about it like a mystery just natives known, and is evident that their traditions corresponds to a certain nostalgia of Europe.
Instead I’m against traditions. My definition of tradition is just the laziness to don’t think to just follow conventions based in another ways of life. Yes, I heal my wounds with special earths I select; yes, I can read the eyes; yes, I pay to the Earth and climb the hill when it’s needed; yes, I follow the ancient etiquettes; yes, I know to read the signs in the sky and seeing above my city the clouds I know how is the weather in far cities in other countries like La Paz or the cities in the desert of the coast. But those are parts of my culture I chose to follow, I don’t follow traditions that I consider should be learned just to don’t be made again, for example the tradition of peasants to kill our endangered species as our rare native cats, our Pumas, even when child we were taught to kill toads with stones, I dislike that because I don’t see the merit to take lives when in our modern world we could put special fences to avoid the pumas and instead to kill our rare wild native cats we should use modern breeding technics and adequate building spaces. An animal shouldn’t pay for the ignorance of a human.
I don’t follow the tradition to follow rules and just get stuck in the inadequate adobe house, I follow the Incan tradition haunted but knowledge. The genetic investigation was triggered by the regular “el niño” (the warming of the Ocean that brings periods of excessive rains in some places and droughts in others) so our ancestors developed in kind of laboratories thousands of vegetable species resistant to the weather, architectonic systems to fight the desert and the earthquakes, urban and regional organization so the Empire would be connected across their thousands of rich cities. I know there is a romantic idea that we were like some kind of hippies (nothing against them btw) or a wild civilization visited by aliens (lol) but the reality was, is, more complex. I’m against that vision tourists have, even national tourists, that we should be in poverty to conserve that “traditions” so we still should use clothes made for Spanish peasants and to live in homes without services, internet and TV’s are a sin it seems because that “fakes” us XD The time advances, I want to have the comfort of tomorrow and I design according that, my last designs implies in the technical side a hybrid solar/public-electric system and in the architectonic side it’s the mirror of a electrical engineer.
Returning to the beginning that’s the reason I felt so connected with the characters of that movie… I could sense a kind of brotherhood in the man diving the Titicaca… being native doesn’t mean to have a race or following without thinking archaic traditions; but to have a bond, like Borges had, with your earth and sky and city. Feel that your place perhaps couldn’t have a foundation date but it is with your spirit an eternity along.
This is a lagoon that actually has no name, Lagunillas in English means “lagoon” so I guess it had once a real name but it’s now forgotten; some politician or governmental technic enemy of imagination choose to put a horrible name to a beautiful place.
It’s in the highway in Santa Lucía District in the highlands of the Peruvian southeast at 4174 metres above sea level (13 694 feet). It’s not a touristic place, I went because I always saw it from the bus and a month ago I thought that would be nice to walk in its shores at least once. This is what I found:
Like a proof that I was there I shot a selfie, hmm perhaps I should get the selfie stick. Sometimes people say me that I look so rigid in my photographs so I tried to be more relaxed, although not so much to be nude, lol.
Then I saw a little boat and as my drawings it has no people inside and sadly there was nobody to ask, a meters beyond it there was a pirka (barrier with rocks in the countryside) saying that it was the limit of a private property, what is not a surprise in the highlands with thousands of years in civilizations, everything seems occupied by a town or community.
This boat curiously had written “Germany Const.” so it was even more strange in that place because usually the boats have names of girls. There are activities of fish farming of trout so probably is of some worker.
But there was the barrier so I took one last shot of it and went upside the hill.
Upside the hill
Upside the hill there is a yellow world of ichu and communities of lacustrine birds. In the highlands the summer is a season of fast changes, in the time I was there for example it was sunny for moments and cloudy in others; previously I had studied the weather in a span of a week and the day I choose was according to forecasts the one with less probabilities of rain. I love rain but in the countryside usually it comes with electrical storms.
I saw an halo, usually they are completely circular so I think it’s first time I see one that is instead an arc.
I liked the lagoon but not the fact that you cannot walk in several places around it, I like to feel free, not restricted; I shot one last photo and walked to the distant hills. Actually I walked several hours more but that’s for another post.
Saying Good Bye to the unnamed lagoon
If I had to name the lagoon perhaps it could be the Lagoon of Cotton Clouds, for other side it has no name so you can call it with a name of your own inspiration.
And finally black kiss to say bye ;-)
The illusion of a dream built in sand and finally gone with an indifferent wind.
Juliaca city has populated since thousands of years ago, the main Apu (sacred hill) is Huaynarroque, a hill with two peaks that shows the unity in the duality. But there are another secondary apus and places with its own communities. Chacas lagoon has two towns: Kokan and Chacas. They are something similar to satellite towns but they’re more like part of a body of sacred hills and the lagoon that I guess has the status of a cocha (sacred lagoon). Apus and Cochas are like ancestors to us, in our mythology there is no creation but breeding so every community has to care its Apu and Cocha with specific rules.
The first signal that you are near a sacred place in Peru is to see an old catholic temple. To indoctrinate us priest built temples near Apus.
But well, you know once one church and usually you already know the rest and my goal was to walk in the lagoon where I played when child. I followed the road…
Chacas lagoon is at 3829 masl (approximately 12 000 feet) in a weather where usually there is just cold.
Near the lagoon I met three kind persons attending the fields of papas. The lord of the fields asked me for some photographs. The Qashwa, a mythological warrior dance with a symbolism of fertility, was nearer so there was a kind spirit.
The school used to hire a little bus, but I went walking and the lagoon seemed so far. But I get the shores. Although I took another road from a side I didn’t know, so the place was like go for first time again.
A storm seemed closer so I scape… err, I mean, I did a strategic retreat. Just kidding :P, I had to return so I came back to the road.
Juliaca’s airport is near the lagoon so it’s common to see the planes…