Page 183 - Dark Matter:Women Witnessing Issue #3 - December 2015

Dark Matter: Women Witnessing - December, 2015 Issue #3 - EXTINCTION / DEVOTION

I loosen my grip on the pebble. Impossible.

Raqchi was my first step into the region dominated by the mountain Ausangate. Rising above the

landscape, Ausangate is not just a mountain, he is an Apu – a sacred peak permanently covered in

snow and ice, a mountain god.

For the Incas, and for many Andeans still, the gods are not mythical beings; they are forces of nature

with whom the people have intimate, complicated relationships based on reciprocity and offering. They

are spirits whose moods and tempers can change the course of lives in the extreme, highland climate

of the Andes. Gods who need to be pleased and appeased, and who can call forth blessings or curses

on those who people their world.

In Mara’s world, a place where everything is alive, the lines of the sacred and mundane weave

together. The condor is an animal, yes, but he might also be a helper of the Apu, sent out from the

mountain’s icy folds to see the world beyond his gaze. The snake is a snake, but he is also a spirit of

the underworld, connected to the dark and deep places of Pachamama, the Earth Mother. Sun, Moon,

Thunder: these are both gods and the natural forces that shape peoples’ lives.

“There you are,” Mikhail says. “It’s time to go.”

I want to sleep here, curled up with the taste of ancient stone in my mouth. But Raqchi is a ruin now,

governed by the rules of tourism, and it closes at night.

Mikhail comes into the room and helps me to my feet. My jeans are damp from the grass. We walk

down the aisle. The color of the sky is deepening as the blue hour approaches. This has never

changed: the slow onset of night.

Suddenly, I realize the pebble is still in my hand. “Hold on,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

When I turn, the rooms are shadowy past identical doorways. I take a few steps, afraid I won’t be able

to find the right one. Is it really so important? But I sense it is. She is waiting.

I keep walking. There, on my left. I know that’s the room. I step inside. The smell of crushed grass

welcomes me. I leave the pebble in the center niche. Her gift. My offering.

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