…or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Tourist Attraction
The Andes Mountains from above, during flight from Lima to Cusco
This last weekend I went with a group of students to Cusco, Aguascalientes, and Machu Pichuu in central Peru. The main purpose of this trip was to see Machu Pichuu, but we stopped and saw several archaeological ruins, as well as small towns, as part of our visit. It was also easily one of the more surreal vacation experiences I’ve had – compounded by the weirdness of being in a place so famous that it makes it way on to list after list of places to visit before you die. I traveled with twelve Americans, so this affected my identity, cementing my position as an American tourist, as well.
Cusco is located at 11,200 feet above sea level, and has a population of around 350,000. It is the closest major city to Machu Pichuu, and virtually all planes and buses pass through Cusco on their way to the Incan ruins. From there most tourists go to Machu Pichuu, but there are also a lot of beautiful sites of Incan history and colonial architecture and culture to visit in Cusco. Cusco is vastly different from Lima, not only because it contains a fraction of the population, but because it also retains a small-town, tranquilo attitude, albeit while hosting tourists from all over the world.
Church in Plaza de Armas, in historic Cusco
The historic zone, which we (and most tourists) virtually never left, is located around the Plaza de Armas, the main central square. The northern end of Cusco is geared almost entirely toward tourists, and at all hours of the day there is someone loitering around the park, selling “artesnal goods,” or at least they were claimed to be. Or setting up a stack of alpaca sweaters and hats outisde of your hostal door. Obviously, tourism drives a large part of Cusco’s economy, and this is present in the Cusco experience.
View of the northern section of Cusco
Our hostal, Hostal Resbolosa, was located in the neighborhood of small streets that overlook the Plaza de Armas. While the locatin provided some beautiful views of the city, it also required a muscle-crushing 15 minute walk up concrete stairs every time we needed to return for a sweater or forgotten camera. We spent most of our time in Cusco looking at souvenirs (textiles, sweaters, hats, goods), and wandering around the mercados that sold raw meat, juices, coca leaves, produce, and prepared meals served at large communal tables.
From Cusco we took a bus to Pisac, passing through parts of the Sacred Valley of the Incas on the way. We had a Peruvian guide who either 1) had a strange sense of humor 2) had a different set of cultural criteria for politeness and/or 3) was a very cranky person, annoyed by foreign tourists. Needless to say, he was a little harsh with the group and shot annoyed looks when questions were asked that he’d already answered. He led us through the ruins at both Pisac and Ollantaytambo, which are less well-known than Machu Pichuu, but just as interesting and breathtaking.
Large indoor market in Cusco
Upon arriving in Aguascalientes by train, I noted that virtually every store and restaurant was geared toward the tourist. There were many tourist restaurants, some of which were essentially identical in terms of menu and decor, and which served abysmal, overpriced food. To buy the same bottle of water cost 1 sol in Lima, 4 soles in Aguascalientes, and 10 just outside of the gates of Machu Pichuu. The Disneylandness of the economies in these cities was off-putting, but also understandable given how reliant such economies must be on external funds.
Photo opportunity – costs 1 sol
Despite the weirdness of being a tourist in Touristville, with all of the accompanying economic exploitation, Machu Pichuu did not disappoint. The Peruvian and Cusco governments have done a very good job at preventing commercial enterprises from ruining the serenity and remote feeling of the ruins. While there were many tourists in Machu Pichuu on the day we visited, walking around the ruins was still enjoyable, and occasionally solitary. We arrived at the ruins around 6 in the morning, so this allowed our group to feel more isolated and special, and rendered natural beauty of the mountains less spoiled by humans.
View of Machu Pichuu, with Huayna Pichuu in the background
My favorite part of the trip occurred was the hike of Huyna Pichuu at 7 in the morning. Our group was among the very first group of hikers, and visitors need a special permit to do the hike. I believe I was actually the 2nd person to reach the top that morning – I’m not bragging (well, maybe just a little…), but mentioning my position because it enhanced the illusion of being completely alone in the mountains. The sense of space, of mysticism, and of being dwarfed completely by the massive nature of the mountains, contributed to me feeling special, unique, not-another-tourist in a well-tread space whose renown almost makes it a cliche.
Me virtually alone on the top of Huyna Pichuu = best part of trip
There was also a lot of discussion amongst the group of students about the way that people experience travel, and how values are expressed in such experiences. For example, a number of the members of our group (mostly female) wanted to stop multiple times on the hikes to take pictures. More than multiple times, I should add – at least 30 times per hike. Others felt critical and/or annoyed by this fact – I would probably fall more into the latter group – but this cleave between groups did bring up some really interesting concepts.
One person told me that he felt that such photograph-taking, to him, had something sinister about it — that was somehow related to being American, world-traveling, the imperialism of cultural experiences, even the achievement-oriented nature of the Ivy League. That people cannot just experience something exotic and exciting – they need proof, they need to look good, it’s about capturing and owning something. I agree with his sentiment, but am also hesitant to judge too harshly. It’s an educated, liberal type of person that spends money on experiences as opposed to things — and so there is some snobbery, perhaps, in the reject of creating goods out of experience. I don’t know. Such differences are complicated, and I don’t feel comfortable claiming that one way of traveling is superior to another.
Needless to say, I didn’t take that many photographs, and I tried not to concern myself with those who did.
Throngs of tourists in Pisac, in the Sacred Valley
One of the things that most interested me was the idea of ownership of the land, either because of ancestors or nationality. Peru has a complicated colonial history, which includes the virtual enslavement and/or manslaughter of thousands of Peruvian indigenous peoples, as well as their control following Spanish rule. The country, like many others in Latin America, has a complicated history with respect to ethnicity / culture / race. Obviously the situation has changed immensely in the last 50 years, but there remains a persistent and immense structural inequality between various groups.
I was interested in the idea of Machu Pichuu as a sanctuary belonging to certain people. While we were in the Park, someone from my group was hiking down and jumped on a rock. One of the guides angrily told the student not to do so, that it was dangerous to the area, and that it was a sacred place to his people. On the one hand, I understand his sentiment — some young tourist just arrives and disrespectfully treats the land of his ancestors! On the other hand, what gives him greater claim to the land than anyone else? At another point a tour guide was annoyed with people talking loudly in Machu Pichuu — but it is obviously one of the most popular tourist attractions in the world. I saw a lot of tensions between the economic / social / historical / personal aspects of space, and how different populations negotiate these relations and try to maintain a sense of authenticity and realness in the space. I saw frustration from some of the guides in watching how people treated the space — but exploiting the land also provided livelihood for the guides and much of the community.
Me in Machu Pichuu, with Huyna Pichuu in the background
Finally, I grappled with a lot of the expectations and “shoulds” that come along with visiting a famous and well-known place. Probably one of the largest shoulds I had was from looking at the other tourists and seeing them in their expensive, high-tech athletic gear – lightweight cargo pants, expensive hiking shoes, tricked-out hats, North Face fleece jackets, Camelbak water bottles, walking sticks, etc. – and wondering 1) Whether I was dressed correctly, 2) If I wasn’t doing a hard enough hike, 3) Whether, I should have done the Inca Trail, as well as: 4) Whether I should be camping in the mountains 5) Whether I should have spent more time in Cusco 6) Whether I should buy more/less souvenirs, eat more expensive / cheaper food, etc.
At some point I decided that I didn’t really care if I seemed like a stupid American, if I’d bought too many (or too few) souvenirs in Cusco. If I didn’t have enough photographs of myself in Machu Pichuu. I am damn lucky to have been in such a beautiful and historically important space, and am grateful to the people, particularly the Peruvians and guides, who helped me get there.
where we were from 