Cusco: The Belly Button of the Incas

Zack and I had the wonderful opportunity to spend three days in Peru’s most iconic city, Peru’s most historic city, and Peru’s nicest city, Cusco. Or, as it’s called in Quechua, Qosqo. (The q without a following u in Quechua makes the ‘kh’ sound).

Yeah, our laundry took too long in Lima, and we ended up missing our flight to Cusco, but luckily, we got it sorted out, no problem, and no extra cost, with only 50 minutes lost. And let me tell you, some clean clothes way outweighs 50 minutes in Cusco, as all my clothes from the Amazon reeked, since they’d been wet and bunched together for days.

We spent three full days in Cusco, with our Salkantay trek in between, but I’ll cover the city as a whole here, with less regard for our chronology.

Cusco is built in a basin, with its central square at the low parts, and as you move north or south from the square, you move increasingly into the mountains. Cusco is long and skinny, and as you move east or west, it’s possible to stay largely at the same elevation. That being said, it’s hard to move anywhere in Cusco without hitting a staircase or five. Now, Cusco is over two miles high (11,200 ft), and thus, even a flight of stairs can get you breathing pretty heavy, even after a few days of acclimatizing.

Cusco's Endless Flights of Stairs

One final note before I get going… throughout the Andes series of reflections, I will be careful about the terms “Inca,” “Quechua,” and “Runasimi.” As outsiders, these three terms each have a particular meaning (or complete lackthereof, in the case of Runasimi), but the meanings we ascribe to them in today’s Western society aren’t actually what they mean at all. Inca refers to two things: an empire, and an emperor. That’s it. The people of the empire, as well as the modern ethnic group who descends from those people, are and were Quechua. There was no such thing as the Inca people; rather, there was just an Inca. Finally, the language the Quechua people speak is Runasimi, not Quechua, as we often ascribe. Runa means human, and Simi means mouth in their language. How neat is that?! Now, Runasimi has no written language, and though there are attempts at latinizing it, there is no standard, and spellings may vary in accuracy and consistency across the region.

And with that, on with Cusco!

Plaza de Armas

The Plaza de Armas is the beating heart of Cusco. Yes, every time we sat on a bench, you’ll get accosted by salesmen and saleswomen, all trying to sell you city bus tours, ice cream, shoe shinings, massages, the same three paintings, or the classic Andean alpaca sweaters, but, looking past that is the duality of the city. Giant Peruvian and Quechua flags fly in the center, showing the city’s location: Peru, but its allegiance: to the Quechua people and the Andean civilization. Two houses of worship—a Jesuit church, and the main cathedral—sit along two of the square’s sides, though looking around, Incan walls support the other buildings. Streets with obvious Quechua names blend with streets named after Catholic saints to form the roundabout that encircles the square. Shops catered to tourists selling Andean food and alpaca wool sweaters are a stone’s throw from a KFC and a McDonalds. A ceremony may take place in Spanish, but while waving the Quechua flag and reading out names that are clearly not Spanish.

And so begins our understanding of Cusco. Or should I be using Qosqo? I suppose, to not be pretentious, I’ll stick with Cusco, but I’m not sure if it’s the most culturally sensitive thing to be doing. Afterall, we learned on our exploration of the Salkantay trek and our city tour that there are many things that the Quechua people should resent, in terms of their historical treatment by the Spanish. Regardless, Cusco is a town filled with overlapping histories. That Jesuit church I mentioned: built on top of a temple to the Sun God, Inti. But the churches themselves, built with stones from the Incan site of Saqsayhuaman, at the top of the city. But that’s not even all. Looking at balconies, you see wooden, intricately engraved structures jutting out of buildings. What style is this? None other than Mudejár—that Spanish style with its origins in north Africa and the Middle East! Our hostel, for example, has courtyards lined with two stories of arches—a staple of North African and Andalucian architecture. The streets are narrow and a maze just like the medina of Marrakesh—a necessity to keep the brutal north African sun at bay.

A building with an Inca foundation, Spanish walls, and a Mudejár balcony

And a final little detail comes off as oddly peculiar—Polynesian-looking art. There is plausible evidence to prove that the Incas were actually the first to make it to Polynesia, and that the Polynesian Tiki has actually more to do with the Andes than one may expect.

Cusco is what happens when you blend three worlds who only ever came into contact right here: the Andean spirit, the Spanish religion, and the Middle east and its influence on southern Europe.

On one side of the square is the street Intik’ijllu, meaning narrow street of the sun. The street is, indeed, narrow, and also aligned perfectly such that the sun rises through it on the winter solstice. I’m sure I’ll mention the winter solstice many more times, but the day was of particular importance to the Incas. Their year began on the winter solstice and was divided up into lunar months. Their entire calendar—mostly used for agriculture and festivals—relied on the solstice for alignment, and they treated the sun with particular spiritual importance. Buildings aligned for the winter or solstice are very common in Incan urban planning, and as I’ll discuss later, Machu Picchu’s position is very much determined by its ability to have buildings aligned with both the winter and summer solstices.

Intik'ijllu

I began to write about Intik’ijllu’s walls—its most notable feature, in my opinion—but the point turned into a nearly a 1000-word tangent that I will publish as a new article. So, now may be a good time to read the article “A Tangent About Incan Walls.”

Down Intik’ijllu, is the entrance to a little courtyard, which once was part of some royal grounds. Nowadays, there’s a few alpacas and llamas, a tourist clothing store, and most interestingly, an Aqllawasi.

I’ve put off the idea of chicha for this long, but now feels like a good time to bring it up. Chicha is an important drink for the people of Peru, and I mean all of Peru. We had plenty of chicha in the Amazon, and it has, as well, worked its way into the Andean culture. Chicha is a fermented drink from local varieties of corn—a type of local “beer.” I put beer in quotations, because chicha is, though fermented, hardly alcoholic. Like maybe 0.5% or something. You can get different kinds of chicha, but most famously, chicha morada made from the purple corn, to make a dark purple drink. Chicha houses, or aqllawasis, became a staple of Andean cities as a place to celebrate on the small amount of time they spent not working. Zack and I both got a chicha frutillada, a sort of chicha infused with fruits. It tasted kind of like a smoothie, sweet when it enters your mouth, tart when it leaves it, with just a small kick to it as well. Its texture was thicker than chicha morada, which itself is thin like water, and we both really enjoyed it.

Enjoying our chicha frutillada, which came from that ceramic pot the lady on the right is scooping out of.

Another corner of Plaza de Armas had a few spots that we really enjoyed. First was the restaurant where we had our first meal in the city. It overlooked the square, and there, I ordered potentially the most delicious thing I’ve ever put in my mouth: an alpaca steak. It was cooked to perfection, with a sauce to perfectly compliment the steaky texture and taste of the alpaca. It was on top of a bed of cheesy quinoa, and accompanied by a side salad. Everything on the plate was nothing but amazing, and I genuinely think I could have that for every meal for the rest of my life.

The other spot which we frequented several times was the Chocomuseo, a free “museum” dedicated to the art and history of Andean chocolate.

Though Peru is not one of the largest global chocolate producers, there’s still a rich culture of chocolate and its production here. Zack and I visited the museum twice, and took a class there a third time, where we got to take the beans from their harvest all the way to a delicious glass of chocolate milk and a few candy bars. Here’s a bit of what we learned.

There are three major types of cocoa beans, and each type has its own varieties as well. We tasted several different chocolates made only from the products of several types of beans and sugar, and they did taste notably different. Some tasted fruitier, some tasted like coffee, and some tasted real tart. Inside the cocoa bean is a mix of cocoa powder and cocoa butter. Real white chocolate is purely cocoa butter, milk, and sugar, without any of the powder.

The fermentation process is really what’s most important to making chocolate. It involves both anaerobic and aerobic respiration of the cacao beans, then drying them out to ensure that the bacteria are no longer present. We were given beans that had already been fermented.

You then roast the beans, just like coffee, in a clay pot, until they start to expand and pop, at which point, the shells can be pealed off, revealing the cocoa bean. Again, the cocoa bean is made of cocoa powder and cocoa butter, and it’s quite brittle and breaks easily. But, you put it right into a mortar and pestle, where you grind the beans for many minutes. Now, you may think that grinding the beans makes a powder, but you’d be wrong. It actually makes a liquid!

This is the part that we had a lot of fun with, as our instructor turned this into a competition, and we were all sabotaging each other, yelling, huffing and puffing, whipping our arms around in as tight and as fast circles as we could, and trash talking the others, all in an attempt to get the most liquidy chocolate. Unfortunately, Zack and I did not win… But, here’s our final product anyways!

The beans on the left are all that went to make the liquid on the right. Nothing more!

We combined all our chocolates into a jug of milk with some sugar to make a real creamy, real fresh chocolate milk. I can’t really explain the taste other than chocolate milk, but you could tell that there was more love in it than just what you could get from Guernsey or FairLife.

High up on the hill, deep in the Centro Historico, is the San Blas neighborhood, famous for its market. This market is, admittedly, child’s play compared to Belén, though still a nice place to walk around, admire some local crafts, and enjoy a smoothie.

Moving up further, following flights of stairs and ramps that will take your breath away—both from the beauty and from the altitude—, are the Inca ruins of Saqsayhuaman. Saqsayhuaman is the “head of the puma” if you see the city of Cusco to be shaped like a puma.

The Shape of Incan Cusco Outlined on Modern Cusco 

Saqsayhuaman is comprised mostly of old Incan walls, woohoo! Go read my article about the ancient walls, cause, they are super cool.

There are tunnels from Saqsayhuaman all the way to Qorikancha—the sun temple in downtown Cusco—pointing to the Quechua people’s mastery of architecture in the adverse mountainous, earthquake-prone environment.

Me entering a tunnel that went about 100 ft, not 2.5 km

I truthfully don’t have a lot to say about Saqsayhuaman, since we did not have a guided tour, so here’s some pictures of what we saw instead.

I will say, though, Saqsayhuaman was my first introduction to the world of the Incas. We went there before our city tour, and of course, before our trek. Walking around, I was expecting, or maybe rather hoping, that I’d feel something spiritual. That the sun would not be the sun, but instead, Inti. That the mountains would grow spirits and talk to me, share with me the deep meanings of why I’m here and what I should learn. But they didn’t. It was a regular old day of travel, and the sun beating down on me did nothing but to tire and dehydrate me. I think for the rest of our time in the Andes, I tried to connect with the nature, to see the world the way the Quechua people saw it, and it only hit me once. That’s a story for another time, though. For now, I guess I was more disappointed, but still, I enjoyed running around that ancient city.

And with that, that’s the majority of the old city of Cusco. There is one other market, San Pedro, by a smaller square, but again, there’s not much to say there. I suppose the one thing to mention is that there’s like negative hustle in San Pedro—I could be interested in buying something, and the shopkeeper wouldn’t care. It’s such a bizarre experience, coming off of several trips to the Middle East.

In the end, Cusco is an amazing city. It’s so well kept, it just naturally, in its architecture and signs, displays the intricate history of all the forces that shaped its current state: the Inca walls, the Spanish churches, the Mudejar architecture, and the Hebrew signs, pointing to the fact that 80% of the city’s economy is tourism. Yes, it’s a very touristy city. Perhaps one of the most touristy cities I’ve been to. But, I see why, and I appreciate it for what it is: an open time capsule, continually showing off and adsorbing more history as time goes on, ready for an eager tourist to explore its secrets and the beautiful surrounding nature.

And did I say beautiful surrounding nature? Sounds like it’s time to begin talking about the Salkantay Trail!