Into the dreamtime on Lake Titicaca
Story & photos by Rogelio Martell
As we set sail in the morning fog after a night of violent earthquakes, the waltz of light and shadow across the surface of Lake Titicaca immediately began to dispel my fears and worries. In the magical watery light, mundane reality doesn’t exist and the natural order of things is no longer in effect; large and small seem interchangeable, and as if in a dream, sounds cannot be heard. The silence seems to be filled with the essence of life, as though a deep well opens from inside, where you can listen to the secret murmurs of the earth.
At 12,507 feet, bordered by Peru and Bolivia and surrounded by the amazing Andes, Titicaca is the largest and most navigable lake in the world. Its islands are populated by two cultures, the Quechua and the Aymara, both of which have persisted through the centuries despite the harsh conditions. Titicaca plateau is the homeland of one of the earth’s most ancient civilizations, the Inca, which was less fortunate.
A local legend tells of Manco Cápac and his sister, Mama Ocllo, the Children of the Sun who arose from the lake waters to create the Inca civilization. They were said to be the first Uros Indians, whose descendants still live on the floating bulrush cane islands of the same name, Los Uros, surviving on hunting and fishing. Some centuries ago the Uros were called Kut Sun, meaning “lake people.” They believed that their blood was black, and for that reason they would never drown or die from the cold.
Isla del Sol has the most ancient ruins, but the island of Taquile beckoned. Approaching by boat, I felt myself merging with the mysterious waters of the lake, united in a strange and endless dream. Waves approaching the island are transparent, revealing swaying seaweed below, while overhead abstract cloud forms seem close enough to touch. The white sand beach is covered with small stones of a thousand colors, the waves breaking upon them into brilliant foam. Paradise must be close.
As we disembarked, my guide Evaristo informed me, “From now on, you are on your own.” I found a necklace made of stone and put it around my neck, and started to walk the island.
When you walk on the islands of Lake Titicaca, you have the sensation that everything is moving under your feet, floating on this green expanse of water. Taquile is about three miles around, with stone stairways built during the time of the Inca leading to the town at its highest point. The entrance through stone arches is still guarded by villagers, who now greet approaching visitors. Upon entering, it is like traveling back in time. This is one of the oldest surviving habitats on the planet, and the natives still practice the lifestyle of the original cultures. There are no police or crime, and laws are based on three simple principles: Do not steal, lie or be lazy.
As I strolled through this garden of paradise, I was received with seeming delight by almost the entire population. The friendly Taquileños seem always ready for carnival with their colorful clothes. The men knit, fish and work the land; the women make yarn, weave and craft brilliant blankets. For the Taquileños, this is the center of the universe, and I could feel that these people have no violence, fear, destruction or anarchy. There are also no cars or hotels, but lodging was offered with Aunt Evila, who is famous for her prayers and magic.
I liked Aunt Evila’s humble, mud house with its fantastic view of the lake. The door doesn’t lock, but there was no worry. Inside, all things appeared transparent, fragile in the silence and darkness, like stalactites in a deep cave.
Aunt Evila, who has the noble countenance of an aristocrat and the strength of an ancient warrior, told me that those who attempt to discover mysteries have tragic lives and are always punished in the end. She offered me carache soup made from local fish blended with herbs, and alleged to have aphrodisiac and hallucinogenic effects. I ate the soup, hoping for an appearance of the first Inca or some other phantasm, but nothing happened. I asked to take some pictures of her, but she adamantly refused, believing that if I photographed her, the devil would steal her soul. I was beginning to feel strange, so went out to explore the town.
Impressive Inca lavatory ruins situated to provide a commanding view of the lake captured my attention. The sky was transparent and inconceivably blue, and bright sunlight danced in ever-changing shadows on the stone surfaces, creating an aura of mystery about this structure despite its earthy origin.
I joined a group of islanders gathered nearby who were passing around a big jar of chicha (homemade cane brandy). Several of the men had no teeth but big smiles, and were chewing coca leaf. They regaled me with local stories and told me that when the sun makes shadows in the sky and the stars explode in the night, spaceships appear. For them there is no mystery to having contact with aliens, whom they regard as their spiritual guides.
We drank another round. I listened to their legends throughout the night, and when the full moon rose in the sky, I caught a glimpse of my reflection staring back at me in the cold glass and felt chills. I wanted to touch something warm and alive. “Save me from cold reflections,” I asked them. I began to walk among the shadows of the lake but didn’t feel afraid in this new world.
When I awoke some time later I found I had been sleeping in dream streets and the earth was dancing beneath me. Opening my eyes I saw the sky exploding in gaudy pastel shades with the shadows on the ground reflecting their colors. I felt as if I’d been traveling through a hole in the sky in some region near to the sun. Soon a soft rain began to fall, falling like God’s tears.
For more inspirational reading…
~ Indigenous Shamanism and Alternate Worlds
~ Tough Love, Ayurveda Style in India
~ Ram Dass: Always Here, Always Now
