Dangling over a vertiginous gorge, the Apurimac River flowing around 10 stories below, Indigenous Peruvians show no fear as they repair a centuries-old Inca rope suspension bridge — the world’s last.
Every June, members of the Quechua Indigenous group come together to braid thick ropes made from a type of Andean straw, then brave the chasm without harnesses to replace worn parts of the Q’eswachaka bridge.
It is a ritual that connects communities to one another but also to their ancestors, according to Quechua belief.
Photo: AFP
“It is a matter of pride for us to (renovate) this bridge,” said 34-year-old student Braulio Huilca of his role in the annual rite.
Inscribed on UNESCO’s list of Intangible Cultural Heritage 10 years ago, the bridge has become a key tourist attraction and source of income in the Peruvian region of Cusco — also home to the Inca citadel of Machu Picchu.
“If we abandon this, the tradition would be lost, and there would... be no income,” said Felipe Hanampa Huamani, 40.
JEALOUS MERMAIDS
The bridge, made of fibers obtained from q’oya, a straw-like plant, was first built about 600 years ago.
Nearly 30 meters long and 1.2 meters wide, it hangs over a gorge around 28 meters deep.
For several weeks every year, residents of four towns in the province of Canas gather and prepare straw for rope-making.
With sickles, women in multi-colored skirts cut the q’oya and gather it in bundles that are soaked in a well and then crushed with stone.
They then braid the ropes, sitting in groups on the side of a dusty road.
Within hours, they have made thick ropes that men carry on their shoulders along winding paths and steep steps up to the bridge.
“If we don’t renew it, (god) punishes us. We could have an accident or something could happen to us,” said 54-year-old Emperatriz Arizapana Huayhua, a small-scale farmer in the region involved in rope production.
Crucial in the initial phases of the operation, women are not allowed to take part in the final steps: according to local beliefs, the mermaids of the river are jealous.
ANIMAL SACRIFICE
To guarantee that “no accident happens during the reconstruction,” a shaman sacrifices a lamb to the gods as part of the ritual.
As men in chullos — colorful woollen caps with earmuffs — tear down the old structure, worn and blackened braids plummet into the Apurimac river.
The hanging bridge has several thick ropes that serve as a platform, with two more for holding on either side.
The replacement of the old ropes takes three days. Some of the workers chew coca leaves for energy.
There is a narrow metal bridge next to the rope structure that communities also use for trade and transport.
The work is finished when the two groups working from either side of the gorge meet in the middle.
Cries of “Haylly Q’eswachaka!” are heard in Quechua, signaling that the time has come for the celebratory festival.
Next year, they will do it all over again.
That US assistance was a model for Taiwan’s spectacular development success was early recognized by policymakers and analysts. In a report to the US Congress for the fiscal year 1962, former President John F. Kennedy noted Taiwan’s “rapid economic growth,” was “producing a substantial net gain in living.” Kennedy had a stake in Taiwan’s achievements and the US’ official development assistance (ODA) in general: In September 1961, his entreaty to make the 1960s a “decade of development,” and an accompanying proposal for dedicated legislation to this end, had been formalized by congressional passage of the Foreign Assistance Act. Two
Despite the intense sunshine, we were hardly breaking a sweat as we cruised along the flat, dedicated bike lane, well protected from the heat by a canopy of trees. The electric assist on the bikes likely made a difference, too. Far removed from the bustle and noise of the Taichung traffic, we admired the serene rural scenery, making our way over rivers, alongside rice paddies and through pear orchards. Our route for the day covered two bike paths that connect in Fengyuan District (豐原) and are best done together. The Hou-Feng Bike Path (后豐鐵馬道) runs southward from Houli District (后里) while the
March 31 to April 6 On May 13, 1950, National Taiwan University Hospital otolaryngologist Su You-peng (蘇友鵬) was summoned to the director’s office. He thought someone had complained about him practicing the violin at night, but when he entered the room, he knew something was terribly wrong. He saw several burly men who appeared to be government secret agents, and three other resident doctors: internist Hsu Chiang (許強), dermatologist Hu Pao-chen (胡寶珍) and ophthalmologist Hu Hsin-lin (胡鑫麟). They were handcuffed, herded onto two jeeps and taken to the Secrecy Bureau (保密局) for questioning. Su was still in his doctor’s robes at
Mirror mirror on the wall, what’s the fairest Disney live-action remake of them all? Wait, mirror. Hold on a second. Maybe choosing from the likes of Alice in Wonderland (2010), Mulan (2020) and The Lion King (2019) isn’t such a good idea. Mirror, on second thought, what’s on Netflix? Even the most devoted fans would have to acknowledge that these have not been the most illustrious illustrations of Disney magic. At their best (Pete’s Dragon? Cinderella?) they breathe life into old classics that could use a little updating. At their worst, well, blue Will Smith. Given the rapacious rate of remakes in modern
RSS