an old-time playground

Today we had a field trip to Sacsayhuman, or as Dr. Knight's son called it, "an old time playground." Sacsayhuman is what is left of an old Inca temple. It rests on a hill that overlooks the entire city of Cuzco and is built out of enormous stones that have been pieced together like a puzzle. Some of the rocks form natural slides and seats, a few caves as well, which makes it sort of like "an old time playground."

Sacsayhuman is no Macchu Picchu, but nevertheless, it turned out to be more exciting than I anticipated. When we first arrived to Sacsayhuman, I became somewhat agitated after learning we weren't going to be exploring the ruins by ourselves, but rather we would be lead by a tour guide. There is nothing I despise more than a drawn out guided tour, the ones that constantly are stopping along the way for questions-- that honestly, I have very little interest in. I wish I was one of those people who loved history and could appreciate Sacsayhuman for its background--but I'm not. I don't think its necessarily a bad trait, I just appreciate the beauty of the surrounding nature and the architecture rather than the story that lies behind it. When I go to a new place, I want to explore! I like seeing the views, exploring the caves, hiking up to the top, and climbing on rocks. I would rather experience a place for what it is, than be told about it.

Fortunately enough, my dream came true when our tour guide gave us an hour of free time; it wasn't until then that I could actually appreciate Sacsayhuman. I was free to scale rocks, walk through dark caves, and even take pictures with a donkey and a llama (all of which I did). I loved every minute I had to explore, but interestingly enough, the my favorite part of my trip to this "old time playground" had little to do with exploring.

As I hiked up to the top of a hill, where the view of Cuzco was clear and the city was protected by a large statue of Jesus, I met an old Quechuan man. (Quechua is the original language of the Inca's). I have never seen someone who loved life, their heritage, and their city more than this old Quechuan man. He sat at the top of the hill with nothing but a smile and his guitar. After talking with the man for a while and telling him I was for the United States, he sang a song for me: la bonita mujer de los estados unidos de californie. This jolly old man was awesome in so many ways, but what I loved most about him was that he expected nothing in return. In Peru, craftsman constantly bombard you with solicitation. There are even women walking around the streets with llamas offering pictures with them for un sol (the currency of Peru); however this was not the case for the old Quechan man. This old man was offering a service, but expected nothing in return. He sang solely because he loved to sing and wanted the tourists to enjoy their visit.

This old Quechan man embodied the spirit of life and represented the idea I have always had about foreign culture. The idea that there is little to worry about so long as you are happy and making other people happy in doing something that you love.