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| October 24 |
 Recuperation and little else. I am slowly regaining my strength after milligrams of Diamox as well as coca tea supplied by Zoilo. We made radio contact with José at noon. He mentioned they had started to hit bedrock at the first burial platform—a sign that the excavation is nearly complete there. Other possibilities for us include the second platform on the summit or exploring a meseta on the far side of high camp. For now, there is little else to do but rest and reflect...
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| Reflect upon the meaning of our work, why the High Altitude Project of the Southern Andes (HAPSA) that Johan and José lead does what it does. To understand, I think back to the Ampato Ice Maiden. When I first arrived in Peru, I was stunned at how household a name the ice maiden was. She is routinely in the national newspapers of the country. Customs agents, hotel valets, taxi drivers, porters—everyone knows about her and responds with panache when asked. The phenomenon is akin to the superstardom ascribed to sports figures in the U.S. But only until yesterday morning, when I was eating breakfast with our guide, Arcadio, did the significance of the Ice Maiden and the Andean culture come into focus for me. |
“It is sad,” Arcadio said to me. “We are a people without an identity. Before we were a great civilization and had accomplished much. Now, it is hard.” I tried to counter by saying the good attitude and hard work of the Peruvians would prevail in the end. “It is hard to change the mind,” he said. So true, Arcadio. |
| The ice maiden, and the research done by the HAPSA, signify the rediscovery of the past, a way to regain the cultural identity and heritage of the Andean people—the ideas and feelings that Arcadio holds so dear. Any find, whether sacrifice, textile, or pottery, opens a window into the past. The educational opportunities of such discoveries, according to Reinhard, are many. In retrospect, the ideas expressed by Arcadio seem so simple that they almost go forgotten. In the end, I feel certain all of Peru will prevail. |
 After our conversation, Arcadio wanted to show me something. He took three coca leaves from a sack, and we walked to an outcropping of rocks. “The three leaves are called the Kintu,” he said. The three leaves represent a spiritual trinity of sorts. I asked him if the symbolism was earth, sky, water. He said that was part of it. Man, woman, and money was another facet to this complex Inca ceremony. Arcadio held the leaves aloft, intoned a prayer, then buried them under a rock. |
| My head has stopped pounding. Zoilo is calling for dinner. Johan has just granted me rights of a walkie-talkie. For lack of a better word, I feel, well, cool. I will attempt to set up shop at high camp tomorrow, although I’ve made this promise several times to myself. |
Yancey Hall
nationalgeographic.com