What the People of the Andes Gave Me


"There will always be a wound, a resentment... but the first thing is that you have to live. Work, take care of your family, dance, and we are grateful... and we want to continue and be remembered."


I knew that visiting Machu Picchu and the mountains of Peru would be challenging for me. Our shared history here in the Americas -- the selfishness and brutality with which our European ancestors treated the peoples of the Americas -- has always sat uncomfortably within me. What does it all mean? What is there to do about it?

Still, I wasn't prepared for the wave of grief and sadness that swept over me when we arrived at our first ancient Incan site. Chinchero was a hilltop temple constructed to honor the valley's glaciers. The ground-level network of walled terraces, hugging the hillsides and holding in place dozens of levels of smooth green grass, is intact. The temple itself was destroyed and a Christian church was plopped on its ruins. I stood in the middle of one of the wide terraces and cried. There were few words, few thoughts, just a sadness at all that was lost. Of all that gets lost each time we humans do this to each other. I looked up towards the glaciers, and out across the current town, and back at the church of the victors and just cried for humanity. 

I really don't get it. How, with our hearts and minds, can we be continuing this pattern of regularly destroying and subjugating others? How do we live with ourselves? How do I live with it? All week, as we visited other ancient sites, as well as living villiages, these feelings and questions lingered. In contrast, I witnessed the relentless positivity of our Andean guides, Chino and Joseph, and wondered how they reconciled it, having both Incan and Spanish roots, themselves.  

Late in the week, sitting up late by a campfire, I had the opportunity to ask them: "How do you live with this terrible history, with these tangible reminders of how your ancestors were destroyed? I really want to understand what it is like for you." Paraphrased and condensed, here is what they told me over the next hour over beers by the campfire light:

"First of all, you have to live. You have to care for your spouse and your children and work and make money, and so that's what we do. We live, we work, we build things and dance and have parties and play football and stay positive. That's just life. But underneath that... 

Yes, there is a wound that never heals. We see it every day, every year, it is built into our world and we can't not see it. And yes, there is always resentment at what was taken from us, and at what is still taken from us, because we are still seen as second-class citizens. We do not have equal or even proportional representation in governments, and when activists do stand up to improve the treatment of Andinos, they get punished or killed. And it's one thing to be killed, it's another thing entirely to be erased. We want to be remembered, we want our stories to be told. So we resist, as we can, but our resistance is mostly quieter. We resist by continuing and remembering.   

And of course, our anger isn't at you, at the current European descendants who live or visit here: You didn't do it. Your ancestors did. We know that.  We are glad that you come to visit, because tourism gives us our jobs. But even more than that, we are glad that you come to visit so that you can see us and meet us and hear our stories and see our cultures.  The people of the mountains don't think of ourselves as Peruvian, or Ecuadoran, or whatever the current country is. We are Andinos. The People of The Andes, and we want to be remembered. We are glad you are here to meet us and hear our stories and help us be remembered."

This conversation was the best gift I brought home with me from The Andes. I still have all of my questions about how to live with both the terrible beauty and the ferocious injustices of our world, but I also am grateful to have come home with these memories of Peru and the stories and lives of the Andinos and their message to me: "Live first,  Stay as positive as you can. Listen to and tell each other's stories. May we all help each other remember.  


Zemo Trevathan