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FROM URUBAMBA, PERU

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Day 4: At Womb of Mother Earth (Moray)

"Per Ardua Ad Astra:" Paying Mountain Dues in Blood

MT. URUBAMBA, Peru, July 1, 2008 - First, let me tell you a little bit about what was in store for us over the 11 days of our "shamanic boot camp."  A "rise and shine" at 6:30AM meant "sleeping in."  Some days, like the morning of our trip to Mt. Ausengate, we had to get up at 4AM.  Most days, our programmed activities did not end till 10 or 10:30 at night, usually with a fire ceremony.  Get the picture?  Not much time for anything else but shamanism.

On the other hand, every day we would go and visit some sacred site where we would hold ceremonies, learn about the Inka culture and history, etc.  All of these sites were high up in the mountains with spectacular views, both on our approach to them, and from the actual locations. 

On July 1, before our first field trip took us to Moray, a small village over 11,000 ft elevation, we held an early morning ceremony at the same place where the night before we did a fire ceremony.

It was a misty and mystical morning.  The sun had not quite reached the field yet, though it was lighting up some of the surrounding hills.  As I was sitting in the circle of new friends, I was contemplating something that took place less than an hour ago.  My roommate Jeff and I shared a loft-type "apartment."  Our beds were upstairs; the living quarters on the ground floor.  As I was coming down the stairs in darkness and still half asleep, my mind misread the half a landing of the staircase for a full landing.  So I missed the step and crashed into the living room. 

It was a miracle that my only injury was about a six-inch gash on the right shin.  I could have easily broken my neck or some other bones falling from that height into the living room furniture.  Maybe my athleticism saved me?  As a former basketball and soccer player, I was used to being hit and falling every which way.  But the six-inch wound turned out to be quite a gusher.  Blood was everywhere... on the steps, on the rug, over my clothes.  Since my roommate was having a shower at the time, I could not get to any towels to try to stop the bleeding.  So I sat on the floor, using both of my hands to press down on the wound until he got out.  I purposely sat sideways from the bathroom door so Jeff would not see me right away as he got out.  When I heard the door open, I said, "don't freak out."  Then I explained to my roommate what had happened.

The hotel did not have a first aid kit.  And I did not have a gauze big enough to cover the wound.  Still, Jeff, a lawyer from Florida, and I improvised, using a cloth napkin from the dining room, and the large ace bandage I did bring along, to stop the bleeding.  I was thinking about all that as Holly, the blonde in the middle picture above, directed us during the morning ceremony to travel in our minds to the Lower World.  That's where we met a circle of sages.  They gave us a gift.  My gift was in Latin.  It read, "Per Ardua Ad Astra" ("through hardship to the stars"). 

I began to smile despite the throbbing pain in my leg.  "I get it!" I said out loud.  "So that's what that six-inch gash was about.  Through hardship to the stars.  I am ready.  I've already punched in my ticket." 

Later on, when people would ask me what had happened to my leg, I would say that I am used to paying my mountain dues in blood.  Having done that at every other mountain I had climbed, I had even anticipated it.  I brought my soccer shin guards with me.  Alas, I never got to use them.  I sustained this injury before I had even had a chance to put them on.  Afterward, I could not wear them anymore as they would have rubbed against the cut, and only made matters worse. 

It was an auspicious start to my sacred journey.  Onward and upward...

The same morning, I bought a beautiful poncho (two left photos) from one of the Inka shamans.  It was too warm to wear it that day.  But later on, it came handy on some cold nights and mornings. 

As I said, our first outing was to the village of Moray.  As the bus wound its way from Urubamba up the twisted road, I kept snapping pictures of the Sacred Valley below, our home for the rest of this week (two right shots).

The mountain vistas on our way to Moray were pretty spectacular.  Later in the week, we would start to take them for granted.  But that first morning, we all sat glued to the windows, taking in their beauty.  The snowy peak in the right shot is Waika Willka, the second tallest mountain in the Peruvian Andes.  We will be communing with later in the week.

Once in Moray, our first sight was quite mundane - an older man urinating in broad daylight (left).  But the site where we held our late morning ceremony was quite amazing.  It was a terraced agricultural lab in the shape of a uterus, built by the Inkas hundreds of years ago.  This is where they grew various kinds of corn that were later transplanted elsewhere.  Shaping the fields to look like a womb was just the first of many examples of how harmoniously the Inkas lived with Mother Earth and Father Sun.

Before descending down in the "Womb of Mother Earth" ("Pacha Mama"), I took a couple of pictures of the three Pampamesayoks (high priests-shamans) who ended up spending the entire 11 days with us.  Don Sebastian (playing the flute) is quite famous.  He was depicted in the book "Andean Codex" by J.E. Williams (www.andeancodex.com).  The five principles of the Andean Codex are: 1. Munay - the way of love and beauty; 2. Yachay - the way of knowledge; 3. Llankay - the way of action; 4. Kausay - the way of life; and 5. Ayni - the way of reciprocity and alignment with the universe.

James was one of the 38 would-be shamans at the start of our sacred journey.  This young man from Britain is missing both of his legs.  He never talked about how he lost them.  But his spirit was such you'd never know that he was handicapped.  I will tell you more about James later, including how most of us took turns carrying him on our shoulders on some steep slopes.  This morning, however, it was the Inka shamans that moved into action right away.  One of them picked up James and carried him on his back down to the Womb of Mother Earth.  The other grabbed his wheel chair. 

At no time during the 11-day at times quite grueling mountain exercised did James miss anything.  He was there with us at the steepest climbs and the deepest descents.  A remarkable young man.  We all loved him and treated him as if he were not handicapped.  Which was easy to do.  For, that's how he acted anyway.

As we formed a circle at the bottom of the "uterus," two men in their late-30s who spoke with British accents found themselves surrounded by a bunch of shamans.  Evidently startled, they started to pack their gear, getting ready to leave.  "We need a  human offering at the end of the ceremony," someone joked, "so why don't you stay?"  Everybody laughed.  Undaunted, the two Britons happily accepted our (serious) invitation and joined our group for about 15-20 mins.  As we went around the circle, each person got to say a few words about themselves and what their expectations of this sacred mission were (two left shots).  The group was starting to jell.  An hour and half later, we headed back up the hill.  That's when we noticed another gigantic uterus right next to the one in which we sat and held our ceremony (two right shots).

Back at our monastery (above), we spent the afternoon and early evening in classroom lectures.

And that's all she wrote from this Day 4 of our Peru adventure.

Love  Light 

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