About the health benefits of Quinua and Cañawa

I am back!! Sorry it has taken me so long to write since the last posting. The thing is, I have been KO in bed for the last five days with a rotten cold and a temperature that wouldn’t go. What can one do when one is of a delicate disposition…?

Oh yes, I am back and the proof of this is that I went with Karen and two other friends to the valle de las ánimas, a beautiful place outside of La Paz famous for its weird rock formations that make it look like I imagine the surface of the Moon to be.

We left early-ish this morning and thank God we had a 4x4 because the climb up to the starting point itself would have been enough to dampen the spirits of even the keenest of ramblers. But after starting lazily we got on with a good pace and walked up this valley of what I imagine to be an old glacier all the way to the very end. And just when it looked that it couldn’t get any steeper, we made summit at 4,660 metres above sea level and gazed at the most impressive view of Illimani, now looking really close at us. “Definitivamente im presionante”, like some famous bullfighter once said (you’ll have to keep reading. One day I’ll explain the bullfighter comment).

OK, so what cured me was a combination of bed rest and sopita de quinua (hummmm….yummy) and refresco de cañawa. These are both related grains that grow at these altitudes. I can’t breath so I don’t know how anything can grow this high but they do. According to Eduardo Galeano, the Gods once left a fox fall from the heavens and on falling, it hit one of the high peaks in the Andes, rupturing its stomach and spreading its contents all over the mountains. And from that grew the Quinua and this little, unassuming, grain has been a blessing for the Andean people as it is now recognised to be highly nutritious like its cousin the cañawa which you mix with water and simply drink both hot or cold.

OK, so now you know how people stay healthy at these altitudes… OK, and then there is chocolate, coca leaves and other blessings from the Gods I’ll tell you about some other time.

Doña Olga

On our return from Coroico, Karen had a house warming planned so that I could meet a whole lot of people she knows and, more importantly, we could have our house blessed. I kid you not, this is terribly important and all those white, middle class Bolivians take it just as seriously as anyone else. So a Challa was called for which doña Olga would perform. Setting up ‘the table’, as she calls it, is a much more complicated matter than I expected.

First it was terribly important to identify in which direction was the Illimany, the sacred mountain, so that the ‘table’ could be set appropriately. Then she built a square tower 20 cms tall or so with sticks. On top went a sheet of paper that included llama wool, llama fat (I could tell you a long story about the differences of llama and sheep fat and the very different way it handles but I won’t), a series of tablets with pictures of a house, a couple, a bus, a sun, a moon… All these pictures depict various aspects of our lives and, before placing them on the ‘table’ we had to make wishes for each of these. On top went some ‘magic powder’ the nature of which doña Olga would not disclose. Next, we had to crack open one walnut each. You won’t believe the relief in doña Olga’s eyes when both proved to be healthy inside and white when broken. They were also placed in different corners of the table.

Finally, she uncovered a llama foetus which she wrapped in gold leaf and placed on top of everything else. Next were the prayers and the walking around the table, dropping a few drops of sweet wine on the floor to Pachamama next to every corner of the table, after which we had to drink a little of the wine. Once we had all performed this act while she prayed in Aymara, a little alcohol was poured on the offerings themselves and the whole thing set on fire. Again, to her relief, the offerings caught fire very quickly and very evenly, something which is mean to be a good omen. After more prayers in which all three held hands towards the fire, we were allowed into the living room to collect the three people who we know best (Gaby, Lilly and Jessica), who stood by the fire while they cleansed their bad spirits with a stick of wood, just like Karen and I had done minutes earlier. The final act included opening a bottle of beer and shaking it violently all over the floor and the fire that didn’t get put out (all good, again). The fire was allowed to burn and the smoke allowed to circulate through the entire flat. When the pyre had burnt completely, the remains of the llama foetus were buried in a flower pot that we still have to plant something in. And that’s it. The main offering to Pachamama lives in our flat and will protect us from bad things, I hope.