PACHACAMC: A GREAT AMERICAN ORACLE (an imaginary historical tour in Perú)

PACHACAMAC:

A Great American Oracle
(an imaginary historical tour in Perú)


by

Giorgio Piacenza Cabrera


As a rule, oracles were the announcements of otherworldly beings that could be consulted for advice or to foresee the future. As an extension, the structural and human agencies that facilitated the announcements of these beings were also called oracles. Some of the otherworldly entities allegedly materialized in an audible, tactile or visible form and some spoke through specialized priests or priestesses. The practice of obtaining advice through magical means such as this was very much widespread and vital across ancient America and, consequently, learning about this activity is essential to understand the soul and promise held within the secrets of this mysterious land.

Let’s then go on a brief tour of a great pre-European, American oracle, located in the Peruvian archaeological complex universally known as “Pachacamac.” Even if other significant oracles existed concomitantly in pre-Hispanic Peru, (such as the popular Oracle of Rimac, now covered by Plaza Italia (Italia Square) in downtown Lima and the fateful Oracle of Huamachuco, dedicated to Catequil, a powerful lighting deity from the northern coast), Pachacamac was, in all likelihood, the most prominent oracle in South America (and perhaps, all throughout North, Central and South America), for many centuries before the arrival of the Spaniards. Also, prior to Pachacamac’s hegemony, the prior seminal, culturally influential temple and oracle of Chavin de Huantar in the north-central Andes, held sway over much of ancient Peruvian territory.

Genuine oracles were places were people could crack the veils between forms of physical and non physical realities and attempted to obtain guidance from normally invisible spirits. In fact, due to my two brief, but objective, publicly witnessed, physically detectable experiences among Quechua shamans in Peru and Dakota Sioux medicine men in the U.S., I am certain that, under certain conditions, spirits can occasionally manifest in a clearly visible, objective or audible way. Generally speaking, oracles held an important influence in key places throughout Peru and, in some instances, these influences may have outlived their official demise in one way or another. Case in point, the place we now know as the city of Lima might have derived its current name from the aforesaid Oracle of Rimac. On January 18th, 1535, conquistador Francisco Pizarro officially named his new city “Ciudad de los Reyes” (City of the Kings) in honor of the biblical Kings of the Orient because the feasibility of its enclave had been explored by Spanish scouts on the Christian holiday of January 6th, a few days earlier. Nevertheless, due to popular use, the term “Lima” (a modified term derived from the word “Rimac” which means “speaking” or “the one who speaks” referring to the speaking or audible oracle of said name and to the Rimac River associated to it), prevailed over the years.

The Oracle of Pachacamac and its cohorts spawned a large citadel and administrative center for many centuries and its fame lasted for at least through 4 successive pre-Hispanic cultures. It became the crossroads of many local, regional and distant ethnic groups. Dignitaries and chiefs were willing to walk hundreds of miles, to bring offerings and to fast, as required, in order to pose their pressing political questions. Warring chiefdoms would temporarily set aside their differences and send peacefully coexisting emissaries into the sacred grounds. People with various physical ailments may have also come to the citadel in search of healing services as a number of bones recovered from the site bear witness. In all likelihood, knowledge about the oracle must have extended beyond Peru’s current borders since “mullu” (the red shell spondylus princes, found in warm waters close to the Equator) was offered to the deity and to adorn associated doorways, walls and temples. Today, what remains are mostly buried and ghostly bits and pieces of a once effervescent religious center facing the Pacific Ocean, some 26 miles south of Lima. At present, the site flanks the old Pan-American Highway and still towers next to the always fruitful valley of the Lurin River.


“Pachacamac” seems to refer to three levels of deity. According to some researchers the loftiest one is the Pachacamac as unmanifest potentiality. In the -so called- Inca “Quechua” language (actually referred by the Incas as “Runa Simi” or “the language of man”), the word “Pachacamac” basically means “The one who moves the world” or “The one who animates the world.” “Pacha” means “world” and “Camac” means “to animate” or “to move.” Nonetheless, some archaeologists and anthropologists also take the name to mean something as fundamental as “creator of the world,” probably because of the influence of complementary and time-honored information that relates this name to a more inclusive, loftier (and less understood) aspect of spiritual existence. At any rate, for all intents and purposes, the deity Pachacamac was, by and large, recognized by most regional and interregional pre Hispanic inhabitants in ancient Peru as a real and magnificent living entity and truly a force to be reckoned with.

For numerous years after the Spanish conquest, natives hanged on to the belief that a mild earthquake occurred when Pachacamac blinked, and that, when he moved his head, a devastating upheaval followed. The being can also be thought of as an ancient “Apu” or the tutelary spirit of a community, a spirit generally also associated to an outstanding geographical feature like a snow-capped mountain, a prominent hill, another kind of specially acknowledged or perhaps capricious geographical site or, even, to a particular object through which spiritual power manifests. The place or object through which spiritual power manifests is known as a “Waca” or “Huaca” and the Citadel of Pachacamac itself is particularly important among scores of “huacas” widespread throughout Peru. At any rate, if we conceive Pachacamac as a popular, prominent entity engaged in human-level political concerns, he will also be perceived as masculine in nature and with a main wife. In fact, in Andean creation cosmologies, almost everything was understood as possessing a complimentary dual nature. The wife, associated to ocean creatures, was known as the deity “Urpi Wachay,” whose name means “the one who gives birth to doves” and whose temple is also found buried under sand in Pachacamac’s archaeological complex, below the “Pyramid of the Sun” and close to a place which was a convent and a school dedicated to the education of selected young women.

Some anthropologists consider Pachacamac to have been a “CTONIC” deity, perhaps like a mischievous deity from the underworld and darkness. In the course of political shifts of power and other human events, Pachacamac may have replaced a previous and very popular southern Peruvian coastal and inland deity once prevalent in the Nazca, Paracas cultures as well as with ethnic groups associated to the region connected to Lake Titicaca. This competing deity (which, according to indigenous legends, had created the first generation of men and had later on had been defeated by Pachacamac) was called “Kon.” He was believed to be boneless, capable of flying and a representative of the Sun. He presided over wind and rain. Interestingly enough, the Norwegian researcher and explorer Thor Heyerdahl used Kon’s name (in combination with “Tiki”, a Polinesian god considered to be the son of the Sun) to baptized his first inter oceanic totora reed raft in 1947.

We must first establish that, for the Quechua people, Pachacamac (when perceived as a deity associated to human-level political concerns and foibles), was not as fundamental as their main creator deity that -in simplified terms- could just be called “Wiracocha.” Wiracocha was understood as the purveyor of light and wisdom and -approximating the Greek concept of “logos”- he was the intelligence needed to organize the world and its contents. Some legends refer of Wiracocha as the deity who created the conditions for civilization to take hold and others speak of Wiracocha as the deity that destroyed the race of giants that built the monuments of Tiwanacu. In fact, recognition of Wiracocha in one form or another predates the Quechua for many centuries. Indeed, the basic word “Wiracocha” is also a highly emblematic name formed from the fusion of the words “Wira” (fat) and “Cocha” (lake, water reservoir). This name suggests that this deity was powerful enough to blend water and grease or fat, or to be of such an essential (probably non dual) nature as to bring emblematic opposites together. According to some researchers, this most essential deity may have prevailed over time under different names and was already probably acknowledged 5000 years ago in Caral, the first known urban development in America. Many think that Wiracocha was also otherwise repeatedly depicted as holding a staff in each hand and that this motif is found not only in the iconography of Caral, but in that of Tiwanacu and of other important pre-Hispanic cultures.

Similarly, the well known Quechua deity, “Inti” (thought out to be the visible Sun that also represented an inward essence) had probably been recognized from time immemorial under different guises for being so essentially life giving and -according to the Quechua - a visible expression of Wiracocha. Besides, for many living, traditional Andean mystics and priests of today, Inti is also a symbol of the essential flame of life within the human soul.

When the Quechua arrived under the leadership of Inca Tupac Yupanqui, they dominated the people that were at the time in control of the oracle. According to legend, this particular Inca is said to have been visited by Pachacamac who revealed himself as creator of “the world below” just as his brother, the Sun, was the creator of “the world above.” After assimilating the Ychma, the Quechua incorporated Pachacamac into their mythic system but built a magnificent vermillion and yellow-coated temple dedicated to the Daylight Sun. It was placed on a prominent position contiguous and higher than the temple that had been previously dedicated to Pachacamac under the Wari and the Ychma. Point of fact, this new temple was called “Punchao Cancha,” meaning “the room where the day dwells.” Here we notice that perhaps the Quechua intended to show that, although they recognized the human related Pachacamac’s wily relevance for the politically concerned man, a higher principle of light prevailed over darkness. It may also just be that they placed their favored deity “Inti” on a dominant position to establish cultural pre-eminence.

In spite of being less fundamental, Pachacamac (if understood as a worldly, demanding, and selfish entity) was, nevertheless, widely acknowledged and respected due to his ancient sway throughout the coastal and central Andean regions. He was indeed considered a real, intelligent entity giving practical advice on important political matters in exchange of offerings, deference, forms of sustenance and attention.

From now on, we will call the demanding entity that spoke to practical human concerns “Pachacamac II” in order to distinguish him from the loftier conception that had also been associated to the name “Pachacamac” and has been previously referred to. The Spanish chronicler Lopez de Gomara (1552) basically mentions that the entity used to appear to his devotees and that he (physically) spoke in them. Phenomena like these can still be experienced in traditional gatherings where beings called “awkis” are summoned and materialize as large, talking birds in Cuzco and other Andean places. These entities usually misrepresent themselves to parishioners that are eager for advice and healing as major Apus (important tutelary spirits identified with meaningful geographical sites). They offer assistance in exchange of vital energies and reverence and they have a proud and demanding demeanor. In a similar fashion, the ruling elites of many societies (contemporary, previous to and including that of the Quechua) also flocked to Pachacamac II that was –apparently- summoned and/or interpreted by specialized mediumistic priests, maybe through magical invocations with or without the influence of plants such as the mind altering San Pedro Cactus (Echinopsis Pachanoi).

Case in point, people from the prosperous and sea-faring Chincha Culture (whose main Huaca and cultural hub was located 124 miles further south), worshipped their supreme deity Chincha Camac, but honored volatile Pachacamac both out of fear and because he had, according to legend, apparently saved their ancestors during a time of famine. Ambassadors from Chincha and high ranking leaders arrived on pilgrimages with offerings and then they gathered at the Pilgrim’s Plaza ready to entreat with their pressing questions handing them over to the specialized priests. Also, to obtain a successful reading, they would have probably been required to fast and to abstain from sexual intercourse for some time. Moreover, according to recovered narratives from native survivors in colonial times, if anyone was allowed to enter the Holy of Holies, he probably had to wait for up to a year and then were told to do so backwards, without looking straightforwardly at Pachacamac’s effigy.

Circa 1460 C.E., the Quechua peacefully assimilated the highly religious YCHMA people that had by then controlled the oracle’s grounds and surrounding region for 350 years. The Ychma had been one in, at least, four known associated cultures eager to recognize and to serve Pachacamac. It is generally thought by anthropologists that the Quechua respected the ongoing Ychma priesthood that after being assimilated, were able to continue with their practices and probably remained in charge of receiving pilgrims. In this way, the Quechua encouraged a form of regional and inter regional political integration within their empire. Anyway, the Quechua also built a Temple to the Sun deity, Inti, possibly a Temple to the Moon (Killa), improved administrative quarters, foodstuff deposits and improved roads connected to the “Capac Ñan,” the “Inca road system” that integrated many spiritually meaningful sites, towns, shelters for travelers (called “tampus” or “tambos”) and military fortresses (“pucaras”). In fact, the meaning of “Capac Ñan” is akin to “the royal road” or “the lord’s way” and the name possesses political as well as spiritual implications. For some mystically inclined Andean people today (such as the Puquina from the mountains of Arequipa in southern Peru), the Capac Ñan is conceived as a path of initiation leading to an expansion of human awareness and capabilities.

Now, let’s diverge a bit from our story to get a more complete sense of the modern reaches of Pachacamac. Basically speaking, in the opinion of characteristic western, academically biased researchers, a form of well established cultural syncretism took place between the original inhabitants of Peru and Catholic Europeans in relation to Pachacamac. For a few others, perhaps a bit more cognizant of genuine, interactive spiritual agencies, Pachacamac became supernaturally associated with the spiritual forces behind what is now known as “El Señor de los Milagros” (The Lord of Miracles). In fact, this particular association may have been different from the one which, for instance, developed between the African Yoruba and the Western Catholic traditions in the island of Cuba. Here, African practitioners disguised their deities as Catholic saints to continue with their worshipping practices.

In fact, the “Lord of Miracles” (which can also be understood as the resurgence of a more popularly accessible version of Christ’s protean, socially adaptable nature) was possibly born with a courageous and vital act of faith in which a primitive or somewhat crude, colonial-era devotional mural was generated. Then, supernatural events transpired, popular devotion grew fast and the painted scene on the wall was completed later on as society formalized the worship taking part in a unique saga amid scores of healing miracles and enthusiasm. In the particular case related to “The Lord of Miracles,” in place of normal syncretism, there probably was a return to a fervent and massive feeling of devotion that reawakened into a deeper and more benevolent expression.

According to time-honored traditions which have been well preserved in Lima, the mural was created by one or more black slaves who had been probably brought from Angola. These slaves apparently lived in one of the many estates granted to colonists by the Spanish Kings. This particular estate had been purchased by a local governor called Hernan Gonzalez. It was known as “Pachacamilla” because many of the descendants of the remaining native inhabitants of Pachacamac had been forcibly transferred there in order to work and to pay tribute. According to Maria Rostworowski de Diez Canseco (perhaps Peru’s foremost living expert on Andean pre Hispanic cultures), it is highly likely that these former inhabitants of the Citadel of Pachacamac, created a representation of their ancient deity, with the possible consent of African slaves of Yoruban ethnic origin that had also been forced to live in that same estate. Rostworowski speculates that this might have occurred because their religious concepts and needs were sufficiently similar and threatened by the larger dominant culture. Rostworowski’s books: Pachacamac y el Señor de los Milagros and History of the Inca Realm are highly recommended.

Pachacamilla had already been harboring a holy cross (painted around 1624) as a measure of spiritual protection in a time when the people of Lima felt that an invasion from pirates was imminent. It was called “The Holy Cross” and it was created in the same site where the Church of the Nazarenas stands now. Apparently, perhaps in remembrance of this “Holy Cross” and, after a period of joint pagan worship between the natives and the Africans, a cult to Christ developed among the latter. Then, one of them painted the central part of the mural we came to know as “El Señor de los Milagros.”

Now, I wish to restate information that is little known outside of a few isolated, native priestly circles. Most certainly, in pre Hispanic times (as nowadays), there were two levels of understanding in relation to the name “Pachacamac:”

1. There was a rather wrathful, dark, gloomy, human-like, ctonic entity that exacted physical tributes, service and, possibly, human emotional energy in exchange of healing and political advice and 2. There was a universal, non dual, quintessential spirit associated to the same name. The most transcendental kind of “Pachacamac” was so beyond average understanding that, I restate, it was said that even Wiracocha (the creator of the world, the giver of light and wisdom and the essence behind Inti, the Sun) was one of his first manifestations. Also, this “higher” Pachacamac was said to be responsible of generating each manifestation of the world’s creation cycles. I learned this from contact with some Andean priests. It may be true or it may be “retro-romantic” but I’ve come to believe that a small percentage of Andean high initiate-priests (called “Alto Misayocs”) held occult knowledge not available to the majority of the population.

In fact, I’ve learned that those who understand the loftiest aspects of Andean wisdom even try not to pronounce the name of “Pachacamac” when it is coupled to this most essential, non dual level. As it also occurs today, it is likely that each level of understanding associated to the name “Pachacamac” was experienced and emphasized by people and their leaders according to their level of awareness. Today, the Q’uero priests, surviving inheritors of much forgotten Quechua wisdom, also distinguish between lesser and higher levels of spirituality. These people and a few other advanced initiates from the Andes strive to transcend the conflict-related, dualistic, levels of spiritual and physical manifestation and seem to relate with a Trascendental Non Dual that harmonizes the polar manifestations and principles still embedded in their cosmology.

In my view, the loftiest level I’m briefly referring to here is, generally speaking, compatible with a Perennial Philosophy, a set of essential mystical understandings behind Christianity and the world’s great spiritual traditions. Aldous Huxley, in his essay “The Perennial Philosophy” (1945) and Ken Wilber, in Sex, Ecology, Spirituality: The Spirit of Evolution (1995), are fine examples of the few probing pioneers of conceptual pathways that are helping us to understand the further reaches of these issues. In addition, important complementary information on the aforementioned two basic levels of Andean traditions and much more can be found in Elizabeth B. Jenkins books: Initiation: A Woman’s Spiritual Adventure in the Heart of the Andes and Journey to Q’ueros: Golden Cradle of the Inka. Jenkins went through many in-depth initiations with Q’uero priests, under the guidance of the highly valued and knowledgeable Peruvian anthropologist, Professor Juan Nuñez del Prado.

Now, according to Spanish chronicles, not long before Francisco Pizarro captured Inca Atahualpa in the town of Caxamarca on November 16th 1532 (with the aid of his courageous and ruthless band of anti moor war toughened, gold and glory ravenous, mostly illiterate soldiers) the Oracle of Pachacamac had been consulted in relation to the strange, bearded visitors and, according to the chronicles of Pedro Pizarro (1571), cousin of Francisco, since the oracle had failed to warn the Inca adequately, the sovereign felt despondent about Pachacamac. Actually, Pedro Pizarro wrote that the Inca had said to his cousin that Pachacamac had lied and that, because if this, he was not a true deity.

During his captivity and, in order to secure his release, the Inca unsuccessfully attempted to obtain sufficient gold and silver objects from places all over the Empire, including the famed Citadel of Pachacamac. Although loads of treasure arrived from all over the Empire, what came from Pachacamac proved to be less than expected. This frustration prompted Francisco Pizarro to send his brother Hernando on a 22 day southbound journey in order to see for himself what the truth about Pachacamac’s metallic wealth was. Indeed, many myths of grandeur and invincibility would clash against the crude reality dawning in and, perhaps, Atahualpa hadn’t been the right man to govern after all. For instance, not long before, he had the priests of the Oracle of Huamachuco killed because of having straightforwardly warned him against impending doom.

We should understand that, when the Spaniards arrived to Peru, the erroneously called “Inca Empire” or “The Empire of the Sun” (actually originally known as Tawantinsuyo, that is, “The Land of the Four Regions” (or “The Land of the Four Regions as united by Inti”) was in decadence. It had recently undergone a long period of belligerent expansion followed by a civil war. Thus, when the Spaniards arrived on the scene, people’s allegiances were divided and two Incas vied for the throne as the rulers of several unhappy chiefdoms sought rebellion in order to gain ascendancy once more… this time with the naively sought out help of the newcomers.

Interestingly enough, as explained in alleged extraterrestrial interactions within a well known (and more believable than most other such groups for its multiple witnesses) Hispanic extraterrestrial contact group called “Mision Rahma” (see www.misionrahma.com), the loftiest original, pro-civilization purposes behind the foundation of the Tawantinsuyo had been set aside in order to proceed with self aggrandizing political ambitions. Now I make this brief mention of Mision Rahma because many of its participants also engage in serious and difficult expeditions trying to uncover part of the hidden and lost history of ancient America. For example, in their search of a lost city called “Paititi,” members of this group have received poignant information from the Q’uero people, from some Alto Misayocs (important Andean emissaries and initiates) and from others that are knowledgeable of genuine philosophical, pre Hispanic mysteries. Their interesting accounts might eventually complement that of academic research as mysteries are revealed over time.

After the Spanish conquest, Pachacamac II (the wrathful), continued being feared and venerated by many in the surviving indigenous population until, in my view, he was contained under the dominion of Christian-related spiritual forces representing (in spite of grave, inhumane mistakes within religion and doctrines) a higher or more inclusive spiritual expression of existence. Perhaps acknowledging and carefully integrating in an experiential, yet analytical way, data from various forms of knowledge, may be one of the steps required to develop a more complete (and hopefully wise) understanding of the nature of reality.

In my outlook, the balance of objective spiritual forces contending for people’s energy and attention, shifted decisively when -in spite of being subjugated by white Catholic masters- one or more strong-willed, spiritually inspired, black slaves living in the Estate of Pachacamilla, chose to create a tempera-based mural in the name of the crucified Christ instead of continuing to pay homage to a representation of Pachacamac II or to deities of their African past.

Interestingly, four years after the basic crucifixion scene on the mural had been completed, there was a mighty earthquake in Lima. Was it a delayed form of retaliation from Pachacamac II, the deity that once had to be appeased so as not to produce earthquakes? Was it just a coincidence that generated an imprecise association between Christ and Pachacamac II?

According to Vargas Ugarte (1966) who had access to a colonial era document kept inside the Iglesia de la Nazarenas (within Pachacamilla), the fundamental part of the mural (the crucified Christ) was completed in 1651. It was probably painted inside a large shed within the confines of Pachacamilla. Sparse records show that it was probably painted by a religious guild of Catholic-prone black slaves and runaways, who felt driven to return to religion in order to counteract a dissolute life of crime affecting many members of the black community during those days. Four years later, the cataclysmic earthquake of 1655 ensued and destroyed all standing walls in the area. In spite of this and, as if defying natural forces, the wall on which the Christian image had been painted remained intact. Almost immediately, the news spread fast and a natural devotion to the image and to its crucified Christ arose among the masses, much to the suspicion of local church authorities who detested unsupervised or unruly forms of worship. Later on, after the archbishop had ordered several failed attempts to erase the mural, almost everyone felt that an awesome spiritual force protected it.

Nowadays, the largest annual religious procession in the Catholic world takes place in downtown Lima in the month of October as, up to five hundred thousand pilgrims, follow (with much pomp, circumstance, incense, prayer, contrition and chants) a heavily garlanded copy of the original mural. The copy is solemnly carried on a massive handbarrow along Peruvian wood incense-smudged streets throughout a long week. It “visits” important colonial-era churches, until finally returning for its annual sojourn inside the “Iglesia de las Nazarenas”… first built in 1684, in the same place that was called “Pachacamilla.” I surmise that today most Peruvians still feel deeply touched with awe and reverence by the meaning of Christ’s presence as this socially organic image “walks” among them carried on the shoulders of (typically black and diffident) porters attired in traditional purple robes. Indeed, in Peru most people are emotionally stirred by the sheer force of this procession and I reckon that they feel that there are indubitable sacred spiritual truths summoned. Over the years, I’ve never failed to see tears in the faces of life-hardened people attending this transfixing procession.

In a way, the spiritual zeal affecting multitudes may have re-established itself under a different purpose because, definitely, in olden times, the Oracle of Pachacamac was like a Mecca, a place of dedicated pilgrimage and reverence for numerous ethnic groups over the centuries.


Overall, there are 15 known pyramids in the archaeological site but, hitherto, after many decades with a dawdling research pace, only 3 have been excavated. The reason: A lack of funds, traditional corruption among government officials and an almost inexistent political initiative. What's more, fairly recently and, due to a deterioration partially caused by hordes of unsupervised visitors and a few vandals, the magnificent “Acllawasi” or home of the “acllas,” the beautiful women selected for a life of ceremonial-religious duties, to serve as sacrificial victims, or to be given away by the Inca (as concubines to noblemen or to laudable warriors), has been recently closed to the public. It is generally thought that the acllas (with ages ranging between 8 and 17) were educated in the Acllawasi by older ladies known as “mamacunas” and, for this reason, the building is also identified as the “Temple of the Mamacunas.”

Some of the essential archaeological & historical facts concerning the oracle are as follows:

The first people to build in this ancient ceremonial powerhouse were, perhaps, those of the rather peaceful LIMA CULTURE. This took place approximately between 200 CE and 600 CE. Archaeologists generally think that these people were fairly peaceful because their remnants show a negligible accent on instruments of war. Apparently, they were also very communal because their building method shows the need to cooperate on a large scale in order to craft millions of small adobe bricks. After the LIMA heyday, the expansionist WARI EMPIRE came to the fore in an aggressive manner throughout more than half of ancient Peruvian territory. They operated under a policy of assimilating the technologies and art forms from all those conquered and they occupied the oracle’s site roughly between 700 CE and 900 CE. Afterwards, those of the YCHMA (pronounced “eech mah”) CULTURE (actually part of people from the coast generally referred to as the “Yunga”), settled in the valleys of the Lurin, Chillon and Rimac rivers, forming a medium size polity between the years 1100 CE and 1450 CE. Although they were hierarchically organized under different chieftains, their hub was in the Citadel of Pachacamac, next to the productive Valley of the Lurin River. A number of archaeologists mention that this particular ethnic group made a point of emphasizing religiosity and rituals and that it built most of the pyramids in the citadel. Indeed, the Ychma expanded the main temple-pyramid (first built by the Wari) where the presence of Pachacamac is known to have dwelled until the Spaniards arrived (in their search for more gold and silver than they had already been given as ransom for Inca Atahualpa). According to archaeologists like Muelle (1939), the crucial pioneer Max Uhle (1903) and Josef Juan (1793) (who actually drew a diagram), this temple-pyramid had an octagonal shape, showed layered terraces, was decorated with a multi colored technique, had light blue columns and was adorned with images of plants, people, fish and other sea creatures. Due to these descriptions, the (now ruinous) building is still referred to as the “Painted Temple.”

Almost one century, before the calamitous end brought in by the Spaniards, the Quechua had established their supremacy over the Ychma –perhaps (as was customary) through tactical negotiation and without the need for outright war- around 1460 CE. The Quechua were soon to approach the height of their empire whose name was defined by the words “Tawa” “Inti” and “Suyo,” an empire that, at its height, embraced over 100 different ethnic groups and, perhaps, 12 million individuals. In fact, the name “Pachacamac” was given by the Quechua and it is not clear what the deity was called before them.

Now, before we move into the old, sacred citadel for our imaginary walking tour, let’s visualize a striking 2.2 meter tall by 30cm wide, wood-carved figure of lord Pachacamac as ‘the wrathful’ himself. The idol, carved on the resistant Lucuma or Pacae Tree (Pouteria Lucuma) wood, was found buried in 1938 by an eminent U.S. citizen who, curiously enough, lived in Cuzco, became president of its most prestigious university at age 26, and aided Hiram Bingham to rediscover Macchu Picchu (a name which means “old mountain”) by introducing him to Mr. Polo y la Borda, the owner of the hacienda (Hacienda Echarati) were the ruins were located. This eminent U.S. citizen was Albert A. Giesecke (PhD in Economics, Cornell U).

As Giesecke was conducting excavations in the sacred citadel, he unexpectedly found the idol buried in the cemetery area, just below the pyramid dedicated to Pachacamac. As you can see, this deity (like to the Greek god Janus) displays two faces (and in this case, also tiny bodies) looking in opposite directions. For this reason, some researchers of pre Hispanic, Peruvian cosmologies assert that the idol represents how reality was understood as part of an expanding hierarchy of opposites. Others state that one of the faces portrays the deity looking into the past and the other into the future. Besides, it is generally acknowledged by most archaeologists and anthropologists, that the prominent display of teeth typically represents (as in many other portrayals of deities in the Andean world) the deity’s raw power. Interpreting coastal “Yunga” myths compiled by the chronicler Calancha (circa 1638), a final, prominent (and not mutually excluding) explanation concerning the bi frontal idol is that he is depicted next to his counterpart, his nemesis and half brother, the deity of death, Vichama. The books: Myths and Legends of the World: The Complete Companion to all Traditions, (1996) by McCleish, K, and Handbook of Inca Mythology (2004) by P. Steele et al. have some good information about this deity.

Most likely than not, this meticulously carved wood pole wasn’t the central figure inside the holy of holies. It must be the most outstanding copy of the main representation. Miguel Estete, the Spanish chronicler who went inside the main chamber accompanying conquistador Hernando Pizarro (Francisco Pizarro’s brother), basically tells verbatim that the poorly lit, dismal, inner chamber housed a blood stained idol along with some gold offerings and the putrid remnants of various bloody animal and human sacrifices. Estete mentions that Pizarro broke the idol apart and demolished its sheltering chamber much to the dismay of the natives who realized that their living entity and deity wasn’t capable of reasserting himself with a vengeance as expected.

The piece of wood found by Giesecke may have been a copy which was hastily buried just before or after the Spaniards angrily stormed into the temple obfuscated by not being able to locate huge heaps of gold and motivated by a self righteous intent of challenging and eradicating “demonic” worship. Whatever the case, I have a small anecdote on behalf of mystery and unexpected power. Not long ago, the idol was being kept inside a tiny site museum within the archaeological complex and three years ago, feeling that Pachacamac was starving for ritual and homage, I went in to convey some form of spiritual recognition to him. At that time the idol was housed within four glass walls with an open top. I blessed him in the name of God and, in traditional Andean fashion, I threw in a “kintu” of coca leaves (three or more healthy looking, vertically aligned coca leaves, held between two fingers and offered with a prayer). At the precise instant the leaves hit the base of the idol’s reserved space, wham!!! There was a clamor akin to an explosion. Apparently, an uncanny rush of wind had come into the otherwise tranquil setting and slammed a side door with so much violence that it blasted like lightning striking a few meters away. Was it a grateful or an angry Pachacamac II? Was it perhaps a meaningless coincidence re-interpreted as meaningful by my mythical mind?

Now, let’s imagine that you are with us in Peru. We were the first visitors arriving at the gate surrounded by a desert esplanade near shanty towns. The Gate which opened at 10 AM on this unusually sunny day during the Winter Solstice of June 21st.

Soon we are greeted by a Peruvian hairless dog (3rd photo), an animal which belongs to the unique “Viringo” race (Viringo means “warning” in the Runa Simi language). This may be a mutant breed. It coexisted with ancient Peruvians from times before the Quechua. It runs a permanent high body temperature of 40 degrees Celsius (104 F), lacks pre molars and other teeth, has delicate skin (more adapted to desert rather than to mountain life) and is said to have been used by Chinese immigrants suffering from arthritis in order to keep warm in winter. This is why it is also called “Perro Chino” (Chinese dog).

After finding our able tour guide Lilian Rioja Ambulodegui we walk westward toward the pyramids and the Pacific Ocean. The first structure we see on our left is a chieftain’s house from the very old Lima Culture. Its walls are made with tiny, vertically placed adobe bricks, highly characteristic of this culture, as can be ascertained in several other archaeological remnants dispersed all over modern Lima. This dwelling and administrative center may also show what seem to be “Colcas” or storage rooms which, in this particular case, are not built below ground level. The discernible and hard, weather- resistant wood posts are from the Lucuma or Pacae Tree, whose pleasant cottony, edible fruit can still be found in today’s markets throughout Peru. Lilian, standing next to the author, tells us that the Lima Culture spanned across 4 rivers: The Chancay and Chillon (north of Lima), the Rimac (in Lima) and the Lurin (south of Lima). She says that this particular administrative center was uncovered by Dr. Alberto Bueno Mendoza in 1968. We also learn that the Lima people built a different kind of pyramid-temples in the citadel. Their style didn’t display platform pyramids with ramps.

Most of what we survey in the vast area within the perimeter walls now looks sterile and covered with a generous coat of protective, beige-yellowish desert sand. This wide open expanse displays an uneven ground, frequently interspersed by mounds and bulges hiding pyramids, more administrative buildings, courtyards, tombs, corridors, deposits minor facilities and God knows what.

We take off walking on a dirt road and turning left on the first intersection and soon we meet a radiant pyramid with a ramp. It is from the Ichma period and Lilian tells us that archaeologists Peter Elliot and Izumi Shimada believe it used to function as an embassy.

Next to “the embassy” we find a long wall and a corridor. It’s the final portion of the main north-south road that connected Pachacamac to the Capac Ñan system. Moreover, it was the road used by Hernando Pizarro to arrive to the citadel. Lilian informs us that the top of the thick wall was also used as an “epimural” road. Yes, amazingly, people seemed to have walked along the ground and above it (perhaps ritualistically) as they moved about these sacred spaces in a ritual and practical manner.

Five more minutes along our walk, we encounter a small palace. These are the headquarters of Taurichumbi, the Quechua governor that received and housed in a respectful manner (according to instructions) Hernando Pizarro and his retinue. According to Miguel Estete, (Pizarro’s chronicler) the facility boasted 20 rooms. Behind this structure we observe some of the urban sprawl from the city of Lurin. The sprawl is unfortunately trampling over some of the citadel’s outskirts. The solidly protected area behind walls in today’s archaeological complex covers just 4 square kilometers, but 60% of the entire complex lies outside and, unfortunately, most of these outer sections are being illegally taken over by people and companies that show up aggressively along with Lima’s urban expansion. There are approximately 495 endangered hectares and great sections of an ancient road system along -with its huge walls- have already been leveled.

From this vantage point we also have a wonderful view of the valley of the Lurin River, one of the 52 Peruvian coastal valleys fashioned by rivers ending in the ocean. Lilian tells us that the word “Lurin” derives from “Urin”, meaning “sunken” in Runa Simi (as already mentioned, the language of the Quechua People, commonly known as “Incas”).

Suddenly we see a small shale rock quarry close at hand. Shale rock was occasionally used in this citadel. My mind associates this finding with the large dense rock quarry located in the midst of Macchu Picchu and how some people tend to elaborate gratuitous falsehoods surrounding the feats of the ancients. One of these falsehoods states that the buildings and stone work in Macchu Picchu required moving rocks from far away places. Both the people in the high Andes and the coast were reasonably practical and they normally used the local materials within reach. By association, unfounded ideas such as these discredit genuine objective efforts to explain genuine mysteries…

Soon the road veers to the right and about 100 feet are the remnants of the “Quipuwasi,” the house were the “Quipucamayoc” (record keepers) kept track of the logistical and accounting information needed to run a large, active and sacred citadel. Here, 25 “quipus” were found wrapped in deer skin. “Quipu” (pronounced “keepoo”) means “knot” and “quipus” were a series of knotted threads of various lengths all connected to a holding thread. It was used as an instrument to represent quantities of things and, perhaps, more complex relationships.

Then, suddenly, around the corner, we meet a recently built path but our guide tells us that the Ichma pyramid it leads to (pyramid No 2) will be opened to the public in 2007. As we continue for another five minutes, we finally see the remnants of the temple dedicated to Pachacamac himself. It used to glow with red paint and has been called “Templo Pintado” (the painted temple). It was the main attraction in the area and could have been dedicated to Pachacamac I and/or II, we just don’t know. What we are almost certain is that the Holy of Holies was close to those to the terraces. The idol shown in our first two photos was found just outside and below this temple, in a section of its associated cemetery which is closest. Pachacamac’s temple itself is slightly distant from us and, since we cannot go in, I try to get a close up of the terraces on the side facing us. In order to make the image clearer, I’m adding contrast to the photo. We wink our eyes and see the remaining paint on the walls.

Also, at a greater distance and to our left rises the “Templo Viejo,” a huge, old temple from the Lima Culture. It’s so indistinguishable that it looks like a hill so I’ve decided not to include its image here.

There are a few human and animal bones sparsely distributed on the surface nearby and Lilian tells us that the surrounding area is a cemetery because many pilgrims, inhabitants and dignitaries wanted to be buried right here in bygone times. She informs us that some of the recovered bones showed that syphilis, decalcification and tuberculosis existed before the arrival of the Spaniards. Someone in the group mentions that, maybe, the old practice of having sexual intercourse with llamas may have had something to do with the venereal illness.

Our group climbs a mildly steep road and we are by the entrance of the Temple to the Daylight Sun. Even without the renovation work, it’s large and looks stronger than the other buildings. To the left of the main entrance and relatively nearby, we see something that look like a dump. Our guide tells us that, indeed, it is an Inca dump!

Then, as we take an alternate route to climb to the top of the temple, we become aware that Quechua bricks were huge. The size of these bricks shows a fondness for building in a monumental scale. The one seen here even has finger markings. Soon we notice that there’s some color on the wall. The natural pigments (like iron oxide) used over an outer mud layer on the walls have outlasted more than five centuries. Lilian reminds us that the temple walls shone with impressive bright red hues under the Sun during its glory days.

The top of the temple shows niches where the “mallkis” (preserved ancestor corpses and idols) are supposed to have been placed. We are not observing seats but niches and worn out or partially demolished segments that held a thatched roof.

Nowadays, some mystically inclined people conduct rituals in this area and at times place offerings inside a square hole on the. The ancient practice of praying while simultaneously offering nutritional elements (“Pagos”) back to the Earth as a form of thankfulness, recognition and payment is fairly widespread throughout Peru today. Unfortunately, ignorance and disrespect are also quite widespread and someone’s sacred link to the spiritual world can be someone else’s garbage bin.

There’s a beautiful view from above. Toward the West, we are inspired by the magnificently bio diverse South Pacific Ocean and by the San Pedro Islands which look like a giant whale from our vantage point. However, a less inspiring fact is that the corpses of about 100 sacrificed women were found buried under the western, descending side of the temple. These human sacrifices were committed during the Quechua period and, even as we are being told that it was generally considered an honor to be a chosen sacrificial victim, we are also told that pain, fear and unpleasant deaths may have sometimes accompanied the sacrifices. Here many people were strangled to death and, oftentimes, animals like llamas and the highly nutritious Andean rodent called “cuy” (pronounced “cooee”) were also slaughtered.

A bit shaken from our romantic notions of the past, we begin our return and soon Lilian shows us the area where the temple dedicate to Pachacamac’s “favorite” wife (Urpi Wachay) awaits excavation under the sand. This site is adjacent to a small forest and to the splendid home of the young Accllas, some of whom became the sacrificial victims in the Temple to the Daylight Sun. The Acllawasi is located in lower grounds and, as we first get a sweeping glimpse, we observe the springs near the entrance of this place which could have served as a convent, a school and, perhaps, a temple dedicated to the Moon. Lilian tells us that, probably to avoid stomach problems, the Quechua preferred to drink “Chicha” (fermented or non fermented drinks primarily made from different kinds of corn) instead of water all day long. We also learn that this site had been originally restored by the famous Peruvian archaeologist Julio C. Tello in the beginning of the Twentieth Century. The close up shot shows its sophisticated, beautiful design in which specially designed ceremonial spaces seem to have been important.

Between the pyramid dedicated to the Daylight Sun and the Acllawasi runs the east-west road. This road was used by most pilgrims as it lead to the main plaza where they gathered -probably in throngs- anxiously waiting their turn to confer with the oracle or its priests.

The Citadel of Pachacamac keeps attracting some unique spiritual seekers and some of them may still perceive a higher aspect behind the mystery. Many others arrive to connect with the convoluted history of their ancestors or of what is now part of World History although, perhaps, most just do it because the citadel is part of a well treaded “must see” tourist route.

The feelings “El Señor de los Milagros” elicits are intense. Many Peruvians (and Latin Americans in general) feel emotionally stirred by representations of ultimate, benevolent, spiritual powers, before which they intend to surrender their beings and prostrate their souls. Perhaps, in an evolutionary sense, people collectively and individually move from crude, dualistic forms of worship and understanding of spiritual agencies into more inclusive ones.

I think that, on the whole, Native Americans and their descendants are still more intuitively prone to recognize the existence of non material realities. Under the unspoken premise that “feeling is perception,” they may be more spiritually alive in a primal sense, yet, maybe to the detriment of a more inclusive form of understanding that is called for today. They have a natural openness to miracles and to the supernatural through what could be called their “gateway of sentiment.” This “gateway” prevails over detached factual analysis during a time in history in which sentiment and reason ought to be creatively integrated to make sense of the ever more complex relations of our interdependent world.

Nevertheless, I’m still glad that the collective and psychological dependence that existed in relation to a wrathful entity like “Pachacamac II” may have evolved or been replaced by today’s massive devotion to “El Señor de los Milagros,” an emblematic representation of the great Master (Jesus) who taught us to be more inclusive and selfless, living anew by the path of love.