Dana Felbab, author of the short story "Illegal in Machu-Pichu", was born in Yugoslavia 19 years ago. She has lived the last 5 years in Wellington. She went to secondary school at Hutt Valley High School and did a Spanish Course with INCAL - Casa Latina.
In January 2000 she travelled for a year with the student exchange AFS, she returned at the start of this year (2001) and is currently studying psychology at Victoria University, Wellington. Here are her experiences on her trip to Machu-Pichu.

Illegal in Machu-Pichu

It was Sunday morning and everything was ready to make the trip I've been waiting for since I came to this part of the world. I arrived outside the San Miguel church, where I had to meet up with the others. I was there on time, but too early for Bolivian time. they way in order for one not to wait for the others not too long anyway, one should not arrive until at least half an hour after the agreed time.

Well, I tell you now, that it is true. When everyone finally arrived we left to the general cemetry of La Paz in order to catch a mini bus that would take us to Desaguadero, a little town on the border between Bolivia and Peru. We wnet thru the Bolivian ride without any problems, but on the Peruvian side I was told that I couldn't go any further without a visa, and that I would have to go back to La Paz. The others crossed the border without difficulties.

We all went to have breakfast and to decide what we were going to do. They didn't want to leave me there, but they didn't want to go back to La Paz either. And when I thought that my trip was over even before it started, and that there was no other choice but to go back to La Paz, one of the ladies that was travelling with me made me believe that there wouldn't be any problems and that I should just continue travelling. Only couple of hours later I was onlmy way to Cuzo, Illegal in Peru, only the idea of it was scaring me, but it was too late now.

We even invented a little story, if the cops were to stop us and ask for the documents, I was to tell them that I just got robbed and that I had to be to Cuzo as soon as I could.

We arrived at Cuzo at 4am, and the streets were empty and I felt relieved. When the Sun came out we caught another bus to go to Ollantaytambo. An old man with a long beard, chewing coca leaves took us to his house. He told us that people call him Hermano Vidal, this lady's friend. One of the very few real medicine men that were left. I liked him very much, from the beginning and the time we spent with him was one of the most interesting times on the whole trip. Every day we could help him build this little school for the kids that lived in that village and every night we would stay up until late listening to his stories. With him we did lots of ceremonies, one night we went to the sacret temple of Ollantaytambo with the whole village to spend the night and wait for the Sun to come out. Now I can say definitely that I owe this man everthing I've learned of the culture of Aymaros and Incas.

After a whole week at his house we decided to go to Machu Picchu, and he was going to come with us. We left the same night. In the morning, after the breakfast, we started climbing up the mountain to get to the sacret temple of the Incas. Only thinkg about it I was excited and when we arrived at the gate for the first time I forgot about me being illegal in this country. But my friends didn't forget it. They made a joke at which even I laughed. They told the guy that checks the tickets to adk me for my passport. I froze, I tried to tell them my story but no words were coming out. Even that same guy started laughing and let me in. I couldn't believe it. Before I could say anything, I was staring at the panorama of this beautiful city. From there you could see the two distinct parts, the Agricultural sector and the urban sector. They were separated by big stairs. We went down to the Temple of Sun, that was used in those days for ceremonies and astronimic calculations of dates to be able to initiate the agricultural cycle favourably, like Hermano Vidal said. From there we visited other important places and the Temple of Condor. the body of this sacret bird was carved into one big rock and it represents a pass between death and life, a human being taken to the God of Sun, on his wings.

We decided to climb the Wayna Picchu and when we got there we knew it was worth it. From there everything would be seen so clearly. While Hermano Vidal was talking to us about the history of this place, a couple of condors came out and were flying just above us. I was able to see their size and at that moment realised the improtance that this bird has had and has for the people of this land.

I said goodbye to this sacred city to continue my trip in this magic andean world.

Dana Felbab, autora del cuento corto "Clandestina en Machu-Pichu", nacio en Yugoslavia hace 19 anos. En los ultimos cinco anos vive en Wellington. Estudio las secundarias en el Hutt Valley High School y un curso de Espanol con Incal-Casa Latina.
En Enero 2000 viajo por un ano con el intercambio estudiantil AFS, regreso a principio de este ano (2001) y actualnmente esta estudiando psicologia en la Universidad Victoria de Wellington. He aqui su experiencia en su viaje a Machu-Pichu.

Clandestina en Machu Pichu

Era domingo en la manana, mis cosas estaban listas para hacer el viaje que esperaba desde que vine a esta parte del mundo. Por estar tan emocionada llegue al frente de la iglesia de San Miguel, donde tenia que enontrarme con las otras personas que viajaban. Llegue a tiempo. Demasiado temprano para la hora boliviana. Dicen que hay que llegar por lo menos una media hora tarde para no tener que esperar mucho.

Bueno, ahora les digo que es veradad. Despues de un tiempo llegaron todos y nos fuimos al cementerio general de La Paz para tomar el mini-bus a Desaguedero, un pueblito chicito en la frontera entre Bolivia y Peru. Pasamos la frontera de Bolivia sin nigun problema pero al lado Peruano me dijieron que no podia entrar a Peru sin la visa y que tendria que volver a La Paz para sacarla y eso era lo ultimo. Los otros pasaron sin dificultades.

Nos fuimos a un restaurante chicito en la frontera para tomar el desayuno y para ver que es lo que ibamos a hacer. No me querian dejar alli pero tampoco querian volver a La Paz. Y cuando pensaba que mi viaje termino antes que empezo y no habia otra que volver a La Paz. La senora Erica me hizo creer que no veria problemas y que siga, no mas. Unas horas despues me encontre en el camino a Cuzco. Clandestina en Peru, la idea me daba miedo, pero ya era tarde.

Nos hemos inventado la historia. Si los pacos nos piden los papeles les iba a decir que en el camino me robaron y que tenia que ir a Cuzco de cualquiera manera. Llegamos a Cuzco a las 4 de la manana y las calles estaban vacias, me senti aliviada. Cuando salio el sol tomamos el bus para ir a Ollantaytambo. Un senor de barba larga masticando coca nos llevo a su casa. Dijo que le llamen hermano Vidal, era el amigo de la senora Erica. Uno de los pocos kallawayas verdaderos que quedan. Desde el principio me gusto mucho y el tiempo que pasamos con el era la parte mas interesante de todo el viaje. Todos los dias le ayudabamos construir la escuela para los ninos del pueblo y todas las noches nos quedabamos en su cuarto escuchando sus historias. Hicimos unas ceremonias en su propia Qoricancha y despues para el solsticio de invierno (el ano nuevo de la gente Aymara ) nos fuimos al templo sagrado de Ollantaytambo para pasar la noche con toda la gente del pueblo y a esperar que salga el sol. Ahora puedo decir con seguridad que a este a senor le debo todo lo que aprendi de la cultura quechua y la cultura incaica.

Despues de pasar casi toda una semana en su casa decidimos ir a Machu Picchu y el nos iba a acompanar. Por haber perdido el tren que salia en la manana nos fuimos mas tarde para pasar le noche en el puble de Machu Picchu. Despues del desayuno en el mercado comencemos a subir la montana para llegar al templo sagrado de los Incas. Solo pensar en eso me emocione y al llegar a la entrada por primera vez me olvide de mi clandestinismo en este pais. Pero mis amigos hicieron una broma que hasta yo misma rei. Le dijieron al senor que controla las entradas que me pida los documentos. Cuando me los pidio me quede helada, trate de contar mi historia pero no podia decir ni una palabra Mis companeros se reian. Hasta el senor comenzo a reirse y me dijo " Pase senorita, tranquila." No podia creer. Antes de que pude decirles algo mis ojos se quedaron fijos en el panorama de esta ciudad tan preciosa. De alli se veian las dos partes muy distigidas, el sector agricola y el sector urbano, entre los dos se encontraban las escaleras largas, las principales de la ciudad. Bajemos la gradas para encontrarnos en la parte urbana y de alli continuemos hasta el Templo del Sol usado en esos dias para ceremonias y mediciones astronomicas y tambien para calcular las fechas y poder iniciar el ciclo agricola favorablemente, como dijo el hermano Vidal. De alli nos fuimos a la casa de la Nusta, la plaza principal ,a la Roca Sagrada y al fin al Templo del Condor. El cuerpo de esta ave sagrada es tallado en una roca grande y representa el paso de la vida a la muerte, el ser humano llevado al dios Inti (sol), en sus alas.

Decidimos a subir a la Wayna Picchu y nos tomo una media hora mas o menos pero de alla todo se veia tan claro, la ciudad parecia viva. Mientras el hermano Vidal nos hablaba de la historia, unos condores salieron y estaban volando tan cerca de nosotros que se veia su tamano y me di cuenta de la importancia que tuvo y que tiene esta criatura para la gente de esa tierra.

Me despedi de la ciudad sagrada para continuar mi viaje en ese magico mundo andino.