Gay Bookstore Etiquete

July 25, 1996 1424


Caretas

Guillermo Descalzi: the "crack" the Inca Trail, always in search of their roots.

The Inca trail goes into the amazing queñual forest at 4,000 feet, so far from Lima, so close to heaven. Right, Desch, resting. TO me like white Peruvian always been a dream to do in my country what millions of indigenous Peruvians and foreigners thousands do every day in our country, enjoy the depths of the Andes.

And I had taken 23 years to accomplish this: walk the Inca Trail. The goal I proposed it in 1973 when my first social rebellion decided to leave the discreet charm of the bourgeoisie and went to live in what was the priest's house in the north tower of the church of the Bridge of Sighs. The church had been abandoned after war with Chile, I was a second occupant, after Pancho Mariotti. Had pulled electricity pole in the dusty street lighting Abregú, and water from one of the neighbors, many gringos there and went through his accounts of the Inca Trail was born in me the desire to learn to love my Peruvian him. DIFFERENT WAYS

If the alien loved that way, how was not going to love me. I did not realize then that love is an attitude toward what is loved, and that the attitude of white Peru has not traditionally been very conducive to love our indigenous Peruvians, much less to love themselves indigenous. My house in the shred Abregú -This north tower of the church, the Bridge of Sighs, he fell in the earthquake in 1974, before he could fulfill my desire to visit the summits. With the destruction that occurred in all my household goods took a turn in my direction. Instead of discovering the inside I would find outside. Instead of looking for my roots deep in the Andes mountains was to find a new root out, learning cinematography. Thus I undertook another path, one that led me to the Mecca of cinema, California, to learn the art of the camera. It was perhaps the manifestation of social schizophrenia which then led me to look for me not an internal root but a external root. That was in 1975. ROOTS


Much water has passed under the bridge since then. In any case I managed to find that external root, which caught fire and came to fruition but neglected my internal root. Finally, many years later, in 1994, I began to actively look for it again and it brought me straight to 6 July this year, in Cusco, to finally begin the Inca Trail, dream long deferred.







Desch, had to wait 23 years to do so.


I arrived with a team of "It happened like this" on Telemundo, if I was to discover part of my being and my Peruvian Inca Trail, you would discover camera and everything. The proposal I made to Enrique Grata's program director, who accepted immediately. And so one Sunday at eight o'clock we are at the beginning of the road. The cameraman Ademir Dos Santos, Brazil, producer Fernando Yovera Odicio, Peruvian, and myself. FIRST STEPS

The trail started at 2,400 feet, at kilometer 88 of the railway Cusco to Machu Picchu. The passenger train stopped to let us down there especially with our guide, Pepe Noriega, Explorandes Agency. A man who has dominated our social dichotomy. He has traveled the Inca Trail at least 150 times as their own, fluent in English and German, seems to be one of those worthy white Peruvians who have solved the riddle of their roots both external and the internal roots of . It was the perfect guide for us.

God must have a great sense of humor, that paints the picture of our lives is filled with incredible strokes. The braided together to make human life, one of these braids must make tissue using living material Yovera Fernando and me. MANCO CAPAC
I was born in a small house on the street Manco Capac, number 413, in Magdalena Nueva, Lima. When I heard Yovera mention the fact he stopped the creeps and he told me. I too was born there! His parents had rented the house after my parents moved into the avenue Orrantia in 1950, he was born there. One-bedroom House, Yovera and I were born safely on the same square meter of land. That Sunday undertook together, after many decades of our lives, again on the same square meter, this time in the valley Urubamba-a journey in search of indigenous root that gave us life.


EL ABRA
Of the 2,400 meters on foot climb on the first day, to 4.050 meters.

could not, as we have been Mandingo, climb with our packs on their backs. Not that we had turned our being inga. We had never had the chance to hug and make it ours, accompanying four were thirteen HIV whitish indigenous loading everything.

The first day we came an immense respect for the lung of the Andes, not only could not carry our bags if they were not even able to carry ourselves. We needed acclimatization and therefore rent horses.
horses could only reach the first open. Beyond the road was too steep. Four thousand feet in a small forest we have to be one of the highest forests in the world, one that owes its entire existence to the clouds that lead to that point right from the plains of the Amazon, a tremendous amount of moisture . A forest in the middle of the clouds.
Peru there are things in our incredible: forest four miles high ... Then in the space of ten meters, the forest dies and suddenly the road again in the desolate highlands. We're very close to the top of the mountain and feel strong winds. We are in the open, between two towering valleys. It's time to let the horses are not able to make the descent on the other side.
open
Just before we reach two other Peruvians in search of his peruanidad: Rafael Herman, a Peruvian living in Houston, Texas, and his son Daniel, born in New York New York mother.







Desch and Yovera: and the house on the street Manco Capac to Machu Picchu.





MEN OF STONE

say that the road was so hard is to put too soft, there were times when only advanced a few meters before having to stop to catch his breath. It made us admire our carriers that practically ran to our tremendous packages in tow. Worthy men in their own element. We were treated with infinite respect to our obvious disability. Very different from how we treat them when they are the ones that are out of his element in the Andes and through our coastal devastation. Leads one to wonder what has this man under continue treating us so well when they have to know for sure how badly they are treated when they are between us. It's something you should know that we are hard to learn: that the value of being does not depend on anything external, or the treatment they receive from outside or from the possessions that surround it, that does not depend on the existence of adjectives but the verb in its purest essence of being ... and not undermine these Indians returning the treatment they often receive. Kept inside the dignity stony summits, so sadly mistaken ignorance for us to be. learned a lesson in national pride, especially when on the road, the only other "white boys" who saw were all foreigners, Belgian, American, Israeli, etc. And we told them all proudly "we Peruvians," wanted to show so we were the owners of this impressive way, the brothers of these men of stone, claiming at least for a time as they could we could also.

And when we finally arrived at Machu Picchu for several days after we were able to say without a doubt we Inga ... Mandingo not!