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Machu Picchu pee enlightens spiritual skeptic
By Daniel Wood-Contributing writer
Machu Picchu, Peru-At dawn, as the shadows recede from the valley of the Urubamba River, it is as if the lights are coming up on a spectacularly set stage. On the horizon: jagged peaks in every direction. Directly below-500 metres straight down-Machu Picchu, its stone buildings roofless, its walls half-shrouded in drifting cloud, its temples and courtyards empty, its stairs deserted.
Five hundred years ago, the Inca empire reached its zenith. Its leaders built temples throughout the Andes, massive structures like Machu Picchu. The Incas believed the gods were everywhere: in hot springs, caves, strange rocks, on mountaintops like this one. From my vantage point atop Huayna Picchu, which rises above the famed "lost city" of the Incas, it's easy to see why modern mystics have come here seeking supernatural insights amid the Escher-like honeycomb of twisting stairways and complete pyramids. I-a so-so skeptic-scan the view and wonder if the place has a revelation for me.
I descend and enter the desolate ruins. In my mind I populate the place with the priests and peasants who lived here prior to the Spanish conquest of Peru in 1532. Today, before the daily tourist train arrives, only llamas roam the streets and tiny, yellow wildflowers inhabit the houses. There is no sound except for the deep rumble of the Urubamba River far below. It would be nice to believe, I tell myself, that something of the people who once lived here survives.
Machu Picchu is the most important remaining relic of Inca civilization: everywhere else, what the Incas built, the Spanish smashed. This site survived by remaining undiscovered, hidden in the tropical jungle of the eastern Andes until it was rediscovered in 1911. And on the top most platform of Machu Picchu's highest pyramid stands the Intihuatana, a strangely carved monolith central to Inca mythology. It is to this precise rock, the Incas believed, that the Sun was attached to the earth. Without it, the universe would fall apart.
A lone guard greets me as I reach the platform, "Como esta usted?"
The guard vanishes, leaving me alone with this oddly carved rock from which juts a prism of granite. I circle it, hoping something will happen. I wait. A warm wind brushes past. And then, it happens. I hear an utterly unexpected, astonishing sound. Someone is peeing. I go to the edge of the platform and look down. The guard is relieving himself against the temple's wall. For a few seconds, I feel the moment is desecrated. And then comes this insight: It's perfect! Between my cynicism and the guard's pained bladder lies a truth. It illustrates the quote I have on my desk from Nobel Prize-novelist Saul Bellow: "The world tells you to look for truth in grotesque combinations. It warns you also to avoid consolation if you value your intellectual honor."
I leave Machu Picchu lighthearted, laughing at life's ironies. It was not in a language I'd ever expected, but despite my disbelief, the rocks had spoken.
published on 04/21/2006
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