Qhapaq Ñan, the Inca heritage that has survived the test of time

The Incas are known worldwide for the citadel of Machu Picchu. Besides its beauty, the archaeological site is the best example of architectural knowledge had by the ancient Peruvians.

Like the citadel, Qhapaq Ñam is another important Inca vestige that just turned one year after having been named a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. This is the road network which used to connect all the Tahuantinsuyo, from Colombia to Argentina, passing through Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Chile.

But the importance of these roads lies not only in its history but what it represents for Peru, even to this day. “Some of the roads are still used even today by the surrounding communities. It is a heritage that is kept alive and allows us to connect these villages,” explains Giancarlo Marcone, general coordinator of the Qhapaq Ñam Project.

Marcone emphasizes the role of these pathways in the relationship between our past and present. “Often the traditional story is told as a break between the Andean, the colony and who we are today. But there are aspects such as the Qhapaq Ñam where there is no such break, as we continue to grow over the same past and represents the unity of such diversity.”

While the most well known ways of this great network of roads are found in Cusco, there are other sections that represent an enormous tourist potential for the country. For example, the route that passes by Lake Titicaca in Puno or the section between Vilcashuamán and Pisco. Even close to Lima you can see part of this road coming from the central highlands and culminated in the archaeological site of Pachacamac.

Of the sixty thousand kilometers that make up the Qhapaq Ñam, nearly half run through Peruvian territory. They are about 23 kilometers of roads we have in Peru including the most important point, Cusco. And even now these routes are preferred by trekkers and backpackers, the plan of the Qhapaq Ñan Project. according Marcone, is to recover those alternative ways to attract more visitors and assist the development of local communities through tourism.

Tours to Inca Trail:

- Inca Trail Classic

- Inca Trail Discovery

Source: Peru This Week

Travel blog: Incas and more Part II

Thursday, 07 Aug 2008 15:07

Rhian Nicholson has swapped the bright lights of London for a three-month journey across South America from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. Here is her eighth blog as she continues her trek along the Inca Trail:

The final ascent up to Dead Woman's Pass is the real killer: you're staggering like a 12-year-old after four sips of cider and you're prepared to sell your own mother in return for a donkey.

In fact you're so busy concentrating on your next footstep you forget to actually look around at the scenery which is practically criminal as the views down into the valley are nothing short of stunning.

Then suddenly, as if by magic, you find yourself with 20 steps to go before reaching the top and the chance to smugly laugh at all those people still struggling away below. In all, the climb is supposed to take a moderately fit person around four hours: I did it in under two-and-a-half but by god did I pay the price the next day.

The laws of physics dictate that what goes up must come down - but putting a one-and-a-half hour, knee-jarringly steep downhill stretch (which you have to complete to get to the night's campsite) immediately after an uphill slog is nothing short of sadistic.

You'd think downhill would be easier but one wrongly-placed foot and you'd be plunging down enough steps to comfortably break every bone in your body. By this time the sun's blazing and the water in your bottle seems to have all but evaporated so the sight of the night's campsite looming in front of you is more welcome than a winning lottery ticket.

And the scenery is breathtaking with the tree-clad peaks rearing up on all sides and the fluffy white clouds nestling in the turquoise sky.

Camping itself is never the best option for those of us with permanently cold extremities but as fate would have it after lugging god knows how many pairs of socks and warm clothes in preparation for the sub-zero temperatures, it seemed positively tropical - although that may have had something to do with the rather large amount of hot red wine that appeared at dinnertime.

Once again the next day came round all too quickly and after a quick two-minute contemplation of whether the bronzed colour of my skin was actually a fledgling suntan or ingrained dirt (it turned out to be the latter), it was time to brave the cold morning air and another hour's uphill slog via an Inca look-out point.

The third day involves a mere eight hours of trekking along narrow rocky jungle paths with sheer drops on the other side just to keep you on your toes.

Luckily the hard slog is broken up by various Inca ruins, where the chosen pilgrims of old could spiritually cleanse themselves in ritual baths en route to Machu Picchu. But that goal feels like a billon light years away at this point.

Rolling into camp at night there's the prospect of hot showers to magic away the dirt (priceless) and cold beer on hand to celebrate the fact you're still alive - just…

That feeling of jubilation quickly fades, especially when you have to get up at 3.30am and sit outside the final freezing cold check-point in the pitch black for an hour to secure your spot at the front of the herd.

Then suddenly the gates open and the stampede starts as every trekker attempts to make it to the Sun Gate in time to see the sun rise over Machu Picchu.

There's nothing quite like traipsing as fast as your weary legs will carry you in the early morning darkness and trying not to stumble over the rocks littering the trail which would send you headfirst to your death over the cliff edge.

After shuffling along like a lame penguin for 45 minutes with the light gradually starting to filter through, in a final twist there are then just 50 incredibly steep steps between you and the fist glimpse of Machu Picchu.

Originally the Inca trail was a pilgrimage for a handful of people to reach the most sacred city of the Inca empire- and you can quite imagine how they felt when they finally reached their goal.
Standing at the top of the Sun Gate with jelly legs, aching lungs and an overwhelming sense of relief coursing through your veins, you can't help but grin like a maniac.

At 6am the first busloads of tourists who shirked the Inca trail challenge and caught the train from Cuzco have yet to pour in and so the city is remarkably still in its mystical splendour.

Grey stone ruins, temples and grassy terraces are set majestically against the deep green of the surrounding peaks.

To say it is spectacular is not giving it the full credit it deserves: at the risk of sounding melodramatic it's one of those sights that will remain in your memory forever - and if you happen to develop amnesia the sixty billion photos you take will certainly help to remind you.

On the downside it understandably gets packed out with tourists and when they start swarming about like a plague of hungry locusts, it loses something of its sublime charm.

Walking round the city is pretty hard on your knackered legs - so many steps in such a small place - and then there are the llamas with that manic glint in their eyes to sidestep.

Plus being on top of a mountain and being in South America, the terraces end abruptly with dizzying, vertical drops. Surely a good few Incas must have met their maker after one glass of Chicha too many on a cold and misty night…

But still, when you've heaved your weary body to a prime sunbathing position in the middle of Machu Picchu and you're half dozing, half contemplating your surroundings it's hard to imagine many other places which would be worth four days of pushing your body beyond it's natural limits.

Without a doubt it's the highlight of a trip to South America.

Rhian Nicholson

Article in travelbite.co.uk

The Possessed

By ARTHUR LUBOW
Published: June 24, 2007

The stones at Machu Picchu seem almost alive.

They may be alive, if you credit the religious beliefs of the ruler Pachacuti Yupanqui, whose subjects in the early 15th century constructed the granite Inca complex, high above a curling river and nestled among jagged green peaks.

To honor the spirits that take form as mountains, the Inca stoneworkers carved rock outcrops to replicate their shapes. Doorways and windows of sublimely precise masonry frame exquisite views. But this extraordinary marriage of setting and architecture only partly explains the fame of Machu Picchu today.

Just as important is the romantic history, both of the people who built it in this remote place and of the explorer who brought it to the attention of the world. The Inca succumbed to Spanish conquest in the 16th century; and the explorer Hiram Bingham III, whose long life lasted almost as many years as the Inca empire, died in 1956. Like the stones of Machu Picchu, however, the voices of the Inca ruler and the American explorer continue to resonate.

Imposingly tall and strong-minded, Bingham was the grandson of a famous missionary who took Christianity to the Hawaiian islanders. In his efforts to locate lost places of legend, the younger Bingham proved to be as resourceful. Bolstered by the fortune of his wife, who was a Tiffany heiress, and a faculty position at Yale University, where he taught South American history, Bingham traveled to Peru in 1911 in hopes of finding Vilcabamba, the redoubt in the Andean highlands where the last Inca resistance forces retreated from the Spanish conquerors.

Instead he stumbled upon Machu Picchu. With the joint support of Yale and the National Geographic Society, Bingham returned twice to conduct archeological digs in Peru. In 1912, he and his team excavated Machu Picchu and shipped nearly 5,000 artifacts back to Yale.

Two years later, he staged a final expedition to explore sites near Machu Picchu in the Sacred Valley.

If you have visited Machu Picchu, you will probably find Bingham's excavated artifacts at the Yale Peabody Museum in New Haven to be a bit of a letdown. Mostly, the pieces are bones, in varying stages of decomposition, or pots, many of them in fragments.

Unsurpassed as stonemasons, engineers and architects, the Incas thought more prosaically when it came to ceramics.

Leaving aside unfair comparisons to the jaw-dropping Machu Picchu site itself, the pottery of the Inca, even when intact, lacks the drama and artistry of the ceramics of earlier civilizations of Peru like the Moche and Nazca.

Everyone agrees that the Machu Picchu artifacts at Yale are modest in appearance. That has not prevented, however, a bare-knuckled disagreement from developing over their rightful ownership.

Peru says the Bingham objects were sent to Yale on loan and their return is long overdue. Yale demurs.

In many ways, the dispute between Yale and Peru is unlike the headline-making investigations that have impelled the Metropolitan Museum in New York, the Getty Museum in Los Angeles and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston to repatriate ancient artifacts to their countries of origin.
It does not revolve around criminal allegations of surreptitious tomb-raiding and black-market antiquities deals. But if the circumstances are unique, the background sentiments are not.

Other countries as well as Peru are demanding the recovery of cultural treasures removed by more powerful nations many years ago. The Greeks want the Parthenon marbles returned to Athens from the British Museum; the Egyptians want the same museum to surrender the Rosetta Stone and, on top of that, seek to spirit away the bust of Nefertiti from the Egyptian Museum in Berlin.

Where might it all end? One clue comes in a sweeping request from China. As a way of combating plunder of the present as well as the past, the Chinese government has asked the United States to ban the import of all Chinese art objects made before 1911. The State Department has been reviewing the Chinese request for more than two years.

The movement for the repatriation of ''cultural patrimony'' by nations whose ancient past is typically more glorious than their recent history provides the framework for the dispute between Peru and Yale. To the scholars and administrators of Yale, the bones, ceramics and metalwork are best conserved at the university, where ongoing research is gleaning new knowledge of the civilization at Machu Picchu under the Inca.

Outside Yale, most everyone I talked to wants the collection to go back to Peru, but many of them are far from disinterested arbiters. In the end, if the case winds up in the United States courts, its disposition may be determined by narrowly legalistic interpretations of specific Peruvian laws and proclamations.

Yet the passions that ignite it are part of a broad global phenomenon. ''My opinion reflects the opinion of most Peruvians,'' Hilda Vidal, a curator at the National Museum of Archaeology, Anthropology and History of Peru in Lima, told me.

''In general, anything that is patrimony of the cultures of the world, whether in museums in Asia or Europe or the United States, came to be there during the times when our governments were weak and the laws were weak, or during the Roman conquest or our conquest by the Spanish.
Now that the world is more civilized, these countries should reflect on this issue. It saddens us Peruvians to go to museums abroad and see a Paracas textile.
I am hopeful that in the future all the cultural patrimony of the world will return to its country of origin.''

Behind her words, I could imagine a gigantic sucking whoosh, as the display cases in the British Museum, the Smithsonian, the Louvre and the other great universal museums of the world were cleansed of their contents, leaving behind the clattering of a few Wedgwood bowls and SÃ