The churches point to the sky, Indians pray to Mother Earth and tourists invading the terraces. Cuzco entangled their creeds with the same ease that mixes stones piled on centuries. Ago 3000 years a group of Aymara decided to settle here, Tiwanaku empire extending from the mountains of the Andes, perhaps because 3.400 meters was closer to the gods. Then came the Incas, also wanted to expand his empire and later we came, the Spanish, we had our own Empire, missing more. It was what was.
The legacy of this is a thousand times rebuilt, with Christian churches, Inca symbols, Aymara clothing, Castilian squares, alpacas, braiding, mountains, legends, pisco sour and coca leaves to combat the lack of oxygen.
I missed the oldest inhabited city in America to discover its history in a walk-boldness of a traveler in a hurry- I took to the street Hatun Rumiyoq, where the Incas built the palace of Inca Roca, now become Archbishop's Palace.
Perhaps the real cathedral is at the foundation of the Church of Triumph, built, I guess that fuck, on the main Inca temple: Viracocha Palace
The Street labertinto always leads to the Plaza de Armas, where Francisco Pizarro came victorious to certify the conquest of Cuzco. Today, the visitor doubt which of the two churches is the cathedral of the city. Perhaps the real cathedral is at the foundation of the Church of Triumph, built, I guess that fuck, on the main Inca temple: Viracocha Palace. That mania of imposing on other symbols, that eternal retribution in the conquests, constant that injury destroys the soul of the loser.
But, Spanish conquest, despite his reputation as bloodthirsty - what conquest was not?- maintained some racial coexistence, a euphemism that may not reach the level of "respect". Today, have to enter the market to understand the essence of its inhabitants. In the markets there is always a dose of truth that can not disguise. There are the Cuzco with doublets, their bread, off. There are no churches Peruvians, women with their bowlers without complex, its giant fruit, sewing machines, clothes of many colors to forget the wars. There they are with their stuff, Machu Picchu without thinking, or Pizarro, and in the treasures of the Incas. There are and will always, releasing a prayer to Mother Earth or the Lord's Prayer to the mountains, because even today, a 3.400 meters is closer to heaven.
