Bolivia & Peru
October 17, 2007Isla del Sol: The Birthplace of the
Ancient Inca
Lake Titicaca, Bolivia — A Diary of a Director’s Council Member
By Patty Civalleri
Director’s Council, Cotsen Institute of Archaeology at UCLA
I didn’t know there was any place left on Earth that would take five days to reach.
Portal to adventure
As a lifelong armchair archaeologist, I have traveled the world using my one- and two-week vacations from the high-tech industry as the portals through which I would venture into the past. Over the years, I would sit in my office and as I raced to meet some arbitrary deadline, I would steal a few minutes to research my next trip through that portal. The inspiration would come from many sources, including exotic movies, National Geographic magazines and discussions with other adventurers. The destinations and eras were always decided many months in advance. Once decided, the next task was my lame attempt to learn the language: a daunting challenge in every case. I would learn just enough to handle most emergencies, all the while perusing maps, roads, trails and goat paths via the Internet. Once familiar with the topography, the cultural history was then uncovered. Family time at the breakfast and dinner table at my house were spent shuffling through books and maps while my family and I attempted to cram a lifetime’s education into a few stolen moments as we prepared for our next foray into past cultures.
In this case, we were inspired by our friend and neighbor Charlie Steinmetz, Cotsen Institute of Archaeology volunteer and donor. At neighborhood social functions, Charlie was the guy that always had really cool tales of traveling to far off lands with a group of archaeologists from the Cotsen Institute. “Hey Patty, you’ll never guess where we’re going next?” Charlie asked. His tales were a formalized version of what my family had been doing casually for many years! And the people he traveled with — they were the real thing! Archaeologists that really knew the stuff that we wanted to know more about!
One day, I asked Charlie if it was possible for us to get involved with this fascinating group and their amazing adventures. “Sure,” he replied. “All you have to do is join the Director’s Council (a support group of the Cotsen Institute). We’re planning a trip to the Andes led by the Director of the Cotsen Institute, Professor Charles (Chip) Stanish. Why don’t you join us?”
But I’m not an archaeologist
Wow! The Andes! The Inca! Peru and Bolivia! Llamas! All led by the well-published professor of South American cultural history who actually specializes in the ancient Inca! Wow! “But Charlie, wouldn’t we be in the way of all of the professionals on this trip?” I asked. “No way,” he smiled. “These guys love sharing their knowledge and experience with us “regular people.” They really love what they do, and they are great conversationalists. Oh, and they really appreciate a glass of good wine at the end of the day. So are you interested in joining us?” “Ok,” I replied enthusiastically, “but you had me back at ‘Hey Patty’!”
The Team
A small band of seven enthusiastic travelers was assembled, which included Chip as our leader who provided us with answers to every conceivable question, lectures and lessons about the topography of the land, the history of the various cultures who inhabited these areas over the eons, and specifically about the rituals of the ancient Inca. Lisa Cipolla, just shy of attaining her Ph.D. in Anthropology, joined us as both an historical advisor as well as our travel liaison. Charlie, former president of Tierney Metals in Southern California, has had a lifelong passion for learning global cultural history and was part of the group. Dean Abernathy, again just shy of completing his doctorate in Architecture, joined our team to document GPS coordinates, and to study the construction and assembly of the stone blocks used by the ancients to build their structures. Harris Bass, Esq., who practices business law for a Los Angeles law firm, joined our party as did my husband Roger Civalleri, a practicing business broker in Southern California. Lastly was myself: as a professional photographer and digital multimedia specialist, this exotic trip sounded too good to pass up. So, off we went.
This situation was rife with potential disaster
The first five days of this amazing adventure were spent visiting airports and hotels in three countries:
From Los Angeles, CA, to Lima, the historic and colorful capital of Peru;
To Cuzco, the umbilicus of the Inca Empire, and the launching point to the famous Machu Picchu;
To the quaint, but bustling, university town of Puno high up in the Andean altiplano;
Into Bolivia for an overnight stay in the picturesque waterfront get-away of Copacabana.
Our final destination of Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun) lay in the middle of the frigid Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. Our adventurous band of eight warriors (a professor from the University of Puno joined us later) was led aboard a little 13-foot trout boat with double outboard engines and no life jackets. [Are you serious?] 
A lifetime of sailing experience told me that this situation was rife with potential disaster. “Why are there no life jackets?” I asked. “Because,” said Chip with a grin, “if you fall overboard, you’ll freeze to death before we could rescue you. So what’s the point?” We climbed aboard this tiny vessel and headed out into the lake with our skipper (a non-English-speaking teenager who drove the boat with his feet!) all the while singing the theme song to Gilligan’s Island: “… a 3-hour tour…”
We were well into the day when we first placed our feet on the legendary birthplace of the ancient Inca: Isla del Sol. From our little trout boat, we climbed straight up the side of a cliff to the ancient lookout site of Pilco Kaima. In remarkably good condition even today, this sturdy facility served as a cliff-top lookout that aided in the defensive safety of these wonderful New World people. As I sat inside this weather-beaten structure and peered through the trapezoidal doorway (an unmistakable architectural signature point for the Inca), it is not difficult to see what they saw those many centuries ago. 
Looking around the room, I can see that geologically speaking, these people were in possession of great wealth: the stonework was incredible. This island provided them with an abundant supply of stone from all three major rock groups: igneous, metamorphic and sedimentary. With this, they had access to the basic materials needed to build sturdy facilities, useful tools and weapons, and to create all of the necessary items needed for everyday survival. All this and an awesome view to boot!
Back in our little trout boat, we circumnavigated the island until finally we alit on a small dock where we would begin our hike up the Inca trail. We were greeted warmly by a small handful of local islanders who ushered us ashore to show us their hospitality as well as their native handicrafts. To ease the burden on this trek, I hired a young man to help carry my equipment. After posing for pictures with the always-photogenic llamas, we proceeded up the path behind the waterfall to the top of the mountain where I was told our lunch was waiting. “The islanders are very proud of the trucha (trout) that is caught fresh daily in the lake,” Chip said. And after that mile-high hike up the side of a mountain, trucha sounded great, and so did a little nap in my hotel room. “Chip, I don’t see any hotels here. Where will we stay tonight?” I asked. Pointing down the other side of the mountain, he said, “See that village down there? We will hike over the mountain behind that village, and we’ll find another village on the other side. We’ll hike through that village and over the next mountain. At that point, we’ll see an isthmus in the distance, and our place is just beyond that. Ready?” [Aggghhhhhh!!! Are you serious? I thought we were done for the day!] “Sure, no problem,” I replied.
We trundled along, over the hills and through the villages, schlepping gear all the way. This is no easy task at any elevation, and certainly not at an elevation of over 12,000 feet! However, the scenery was such that I had never seen before. I couldn’t resist stopping every ten steps or so to take another photograph. A visual feast was laid at my feet as I looked over the well-terraced landscape to the beautiful sparkling blue lake beyond. Terracing is a common practice worldwide among hill-dwelling cultures for several reasons, not the least of which is that when you cut a slope into terraced levels, water is absorbed into the ground rather than rolling down a hill. This was a boon to farming that was recognized and practiced among cultures throughout history all over the globe.
We passed through a village where Chip stopped to show some of the locals what they look like in his recently published book, Archaeological Research on the Islands of the Sun and Moon, Lake Titicaca, Bolivia: Final Results from the Proyecto Tiksi Kjarka, which was co-edited by Brian S. Bauer. The people were delighted to see their own images in a book. Runners went ahead of us so that by the time we arrived in the next village, they were already expecting us, and they too wanted to see their pictures in this now-famous book.
In one of the villages was a one-room museum that housed many of the ancient artifacts that Chip and his teams had uncovered over the years of excavation. Chip’s team originally collaborated with the community to build this facility to promote archaeology on the island, and to help form a bond between these people and their past. Through the efforts of the islanders, a beautiful if humble facility was created to promote their cultural heritage to outsiders, like us. Chip had formed a relationship with a local resident who proudly acts as the caretaker of the museum, and is happy to impart his knowledge to anyone who takes the time to ask.
We walked through the next village in single-file along a tiny dirt road that led us between the houses. Suddenly I heard shouting from the line in front of me: “Get into a doorway! Now!” Just as I ducked into a convenient recessed doorway, a small herd of longhorn steers came barreling through the village, ready to impale anyone who stood in their way. Peering up the tiny road, I could see that the coast was clear and that my fellow travelers were alive and not impaled.
Over the next ridge, my cameras clicked and rolled as each scene unfolded before me. Llamas grazed lazily in the warm Andean sun, while pouf-skirted women in black hats worked speedily in the potato fields, their babies napping comfortably on their backs. The year before, the locals installed electricity for the first time. It made a lasting impression to see the newly strung wires hanging over this otherwise primitive-looking scene.
The busy but friendly women of this island were dressed as though they were always headed for a party. With layered petticoats beneath their colorful hand-stitched skirts, little black felt hats sat upon their heads and their white blouses boasted complementary ruffles. The new mothers toss a sling over one shoulder, which is designed to comfortably nestle an infant. This type of clothing is the standard dress for women — no matter the task at hand. Whether farming potatoes or herding llamas, their colorful outfits can be seen from the villages at the bottom of the hills.
At last we reached the isthmus, our home for the next several days. [Ahh, a bed!] Time for a little “R & R.” Someone brought a bottle of wine, someone brought a few beers, and someone brought cheese and crackers. We lazed away the remainder of the day in the garden talking and rehashing the earlier adventures. That evening, we walked to the single local village restaurant and enjoyed the home-cooked trucha. After dinner, we walked through the village on the dirt roads in the pitch-black night and noticed how differently the stars looked from our new south-of-the-equator vantage point.
The next several days were spent continuing on the trail that the Inca took on their annual pilgrimage to the legendary birthplace of their people: the Sacred Rock. The well-worn path is several miles long and easy to follow. Along the way Harris, Charlie and Roger took GPS readings and documented the entire pilgrimage trail for the first time. We took thousands of photographs that would later be studied in various labs and universities around the world.
Using the bright orange transit that they had been hauling on their backs, Chip and Lisa recorded distances and measured various locations all around the Sacred Rock. Many questions needed to be answered such as what was the meaning behind the location of several monuments as they relate to the main altar and to the position of the sun in various seasons? What role did the solstices play in the rituals?
Roger and Harris hiked the hills, counted and recorded the steps to the altar and scoured the grounds in search of artifacts that would help to augment the collection in the local museum. Dean measured and photographed the angles and sizes of the structures that we passed along the way. And me? I simply snapped away. I filmed; I shot; I absorbed. This was clearly one of the most interesting and exciting trips I had ever taken in my life. To be able to take part in this adventure was a miracle and I will spend the rest of my life thanking Chip and the Cotsen Institute for allowing me — a non-academic layperson — to participate in this amazing adventure reserved in the past to a small group of scholars and a smattering of cognoscente. But I digress …
The pilgrimage trail meandered down the hillside and gracefully concluded at the Sacred Rock, the exact point where the first Inca was said to have been born. From my hilltop vantage-point, it was easy to imagine a huge procession emerging over the hill being led by lavishly attired priests wearing tall multicolored headdresses; slaves carrying royalty on portable divans; cheering throngs of faithful followers who left the fields each spring just to worship at this shrine and to witness the magnificent rituals held in behalf of their gods. All the while knowing that participation in these events would guarantee a bountiful harvest and good health.
I sat perched on a rock with my back to the lake and faced the Sacred Rock. In front of the Rock, sat a square stone slab (a table, if you will) surrounded by eight rocks (chairs?). A small group of hikers from Europe walked the trail that led them to the altar in front me, and seated themselves on the stone seats around the table. They marveled at this stone altar, and they spoke excitedly about the ancients who must have schlepped these stones here to create this wonderful altar. Little did they know that these “table and chairs” were not ancient at all, but judging by some old photographs, they were brought here in the early part of the twentieth century by some locals or tourists. The real altar, the Sacred Rock, was the huge boulder that sat quietly behind them, the one that they never noticed. That moment solidified to us the importance of having knowledgeable professionals with us. It was both an honor and a privilege. If we were here on our own, how would we have guessed that this official-looking stone slab wasn’t the ancient altar that we were seeking?
Tales have been passed down through many generations that spoke of a large gleam of golden light coming from the Island of the Sun blazed across the lake in broad daylight. It seems that during important rituals, the Inca would cover the Sacred Rock (of the Rock of the Puma) with hammered gold (early foil?) that was bright enough to be seen from the Bolivian and Peruvian mainland many miles away across the lake. What a magical and mysterious site that must have been!
Just beyond this ceremonial centerpiece were some very interesting looking ruins. Wandering toward them, I saw that they?pilled?ently?ver a slope that went to the water’s edge. The stonework was magnificent, the number of connecting rooms seemed endless and once again, the views were spectacular. This “labyrinth” must have been used to house the priests and religious royals that supported the many rituals that were held at the Sacred Rock. I crawled with my cameras from room-to-room trying to gain an understanding of the purpose of each room. The thin atmosphere at this altitude shown a sky that was bluer than any I had ever seen, and this clarity of the air is reflected in many of my photographs. So as I sat in this roofless labyrinth, the sun and the sky turned the waters of Lake Titicaca into a magical color that transcended into the air that surrounded this entire mystical place. It was easy to understand the powers that mesmerized and transformed those hard-working ancients into a crowd of hopefuls.
The journey back to civilization was quick. Halfway across the lake we stopped at Isla de la Luna (Island of the Moon). It was interesting to see how the ruins have been enhanced by the archaeological authorities in Bolivia. The Bolivian government, in their efforts to restore the ruins, have consolidated and protected the structures.
We crossed the lake back to Bolivia, passed through Copacabana, across the border into Peru, and headed straight for our luxury accommodations in Puno. Ah … a hot bath with bubbles and jets!
The next day was to end in Cuzco where we would begin the next leg of our journey, one that would be filled with the sights and sounds of a famous Inca pinnacle settlement called Machu Picchu. But first we had to get there. Once again, we benefited from having our own scholars to show us the sites. As we crossed over the Andean pinnacles, some taking us to heights over 14,000 feet in our little motor coach, Chip had our driver veer off the main highway to small, sometimes dirt roads that disappeared into the hillsides. We would stop at what we learned were one-room “museums” that stored ancient artifacts. The artwork left behind by the various tribes and cultures that have inhabited the Andes for thousands of years lay quietly hidden in these little rooms scattered throughout the region. We were careful not to damage them, and to make sure that we left these places as we had found them. Large stone statues of warriors with a dagger-like knife in one hand and a human head in the other hand spoke volumes about warfare tactics and ancient rituals. The pottery, baskets, vessels and toys were protected from the world in these secret rooms, never to be seen by the world, but preserved for the eyes of future generations. What a privilege.
As we neared Cuzco, we had to pass through the ancient gates that sifted the traffic that passed to and from this ancient city. The gatekeepers may have collected a fee to pass through, or they may have been the guardians of the city, or the partitioners of water, or maybe all of the above. In any case, the power of the gatekeepers never went unnoticed, nor does it today.
We ended this leg of our journey at a magnificent hotel, whose base architecture was clearly left over from the Inca. Built to serve as a religious center, it was soon semi-demolished by Pizarro, the Spanish conqueror that led the small army that extinguished the Inca empire. After overtaking the Inca, the Spaniards built on this native structure and added to it to create Pizarro’s Palace. Now a five-star hotel, the furnishings today boast of a very lavish Spanish style. As I walked the halls, I noticed that some of the walls and many of the floors were left over from the hefty stonework of the Inca, and sitting quietly with closed eyes, I could almost hear the music and the vocal chanting of these exotic and proud peoples of our South American past.
As illustrated in this journal, the members of the Director’s Council of the Cotsen Institute are from all walks of life. What they share is a common interest in various aspects of human cultural history. The Director’s Council offers its members many academic benefits, which include private lectures given by distinguished scholars from universities around the world, catered gourmet dinners at the Cotsen Institute, invitations to join various archaeologists on the type of excursion mentioned in this article, private gourmet dinner parties at various homes, and many other functions that accommodate both an academic interest in history as well as a social immersion with others that share your interests in cultural history and travel. For more information about joining the Director’s Council, please call (310) 206-8934 or e-mail hgirey@ucla.edu. ?
To see a complete online photo gallery of Patty Civalleri’s Inca trip, please visit: www.ArmchairArchaeology.com.
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.