(Photo by Daniel Perez)
There I am, on the north end of the city of the condor – the Chinese Wall of South America: Machu Picchu – Listening to Glósóli by Sigur Ross while contemplating the arrogance of the Huayna Picchu who stands there looking after the city. The song takes me to another time, the tourists disappear and children start running through the rocky corridors, the women walked to the temple of the sun to fill up their jars with water, the central plaza has been filled up with danzas and rituals for the king. Everything is alive. Everything makes sense. Every rock, every wall, paints part of my identity. I am because of these people. Because of these people, I am.