Photos of Cusco 58 Years in the Making

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La Compania was undergoing heavy restoration during the filming of the Secret of the Incas. Today it's one of the city's major landmarks.

In 1954 the movie Secret of the Incas hit movie screens in America. It’s probably best remembered as a huge inspiration for the Indiana Jones series. There’s even one scene where beams of light are reflected through a series of mirrors to reveal a treasure — just like Raiders of the Lost Ark. But the movie itself is interesting for a number of other reasons; one of them being the early looks at Cusco and Machu Picchu on film.

Last week I was had a conversation over at the South American Explorers Club about how much Machu Picchu has been rebuilt since it appeared in Secret of the Incas, and that got me thinking about how Cusco might have changed too. I watched the film again (it’s available on Netflix) and looked for all the scenes with exterior shots of the city.

When one flashed on the screen, I captured it for later reference. Once I had ten photos, I loaded them onto my Kindle and went out on a photographic scavenger hunt. It was surprisingly easy to track down the locations because Cusco hasn’t changed much in 58 years. From 1954 to 2012 the most noticeable changes are the streetlights and trees which now fill the plazas.

In my photos, I wasn’t going for exact copies of the scenes from the film (in some cases trees now block the view or replicating the shot would require standing in the middle of a busy street). What I wanted to show was a clear before/after view of the Cusco landmarks.

Below you can find the results of my scavenger hunt along with the some interesting tidbits about how things have changed. You can view a map of these locations here. Continue reading →

On Assignment: The Sacred Valley

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Moonlight illuminates Ollantaytambo and the Sacred Valley

After more than a month in Cusco, I recently got the chance to get out of the city and explore the surrounding area. Over the course of three days I documented a festival, Incan ruins, and an agro-tourism project for Apus Peru, an adventure travel company based here in Cusco. The stories and photos I worked on for Apus will appear on their blog in the next few weeks.

My first adventure happened last Thursday when I reported on the Cruz Velacuy  (Vigil of the Crosses) festival. It was difficult to track down information on this event and I was at a loss until I discovered that one of Apus’ staff members had an aunt who was organizing festivities in a town about 45 minutes outside of Cusco. She also had a brother, Jhon, who agreed to act as my guide.

Early in the morning we caught a bus out of Cusco which took us to Izcuchaca. There we rode a moto-taxi from the city center to his aunt’s house where preparations for the fiesta were already underway. At least a half-dozen women and a couple men were preparing food for later in the day. Jhon and I estimated that there must have been three whole pigs in various stages of preparation.

The next several hours were a blur of parades, Mass, and dancing. When we arrived back at the house, it was time to eat. First up, big hunks of fried pork with brown bread. Being included in the meals and fiesta was incredibly humbling, as most Peruvians are not exactly people of unlimited resources.

A hearty tripe soup followed the pork. When I felt like I couldn’t take another bite, they brought out the chicha, a kind of fermented corn drink. If I learned one thing from this trip, it’s that I am incapable of partying like a Peruvian. Jhon and I took our leave right as the dancing (and drinking) was kicking off.

Domingo, our awesome guide to the Sacred Valley.

On Saturday, I left Cusco by a slightly different route and my wife, Sonya, also got to come along. After picking up another photographer who is working for Apus, we made our way to the Moray. This is an ancient agriculture project nestled high in the mountains above the Sacred Valley.

The Moray is made up of a series of circular terraces once used to preserve rich top-soil. Now the site attracts more tourists than farmers and a lot of those tourists find the appeal more spiritual than agrarian. Convinced that the geometry of the place has mystical properties, they are often spotted holding hands at the lowest level and occasionally participating in some scream-therapy (the place has great acoustics).

Our second stop was a series of evaporating pools used for harvesting salt. These pools are carved into the side of a narrow canyon and predate the Incas. The salt comes from a saline spring and reaches the pools via a series of channels. The flow is controlled by placing rock barriers at critical intersections along the channels.

After a long day of exploring we drove to the town of Ollantaytambo. This quaint village is the last stop before trekkers take to the Inca Trail and as such, is well stocked with all the camping equipment, woolen headgear and walking sticks you could shake a… well… walking stick at.

Night brought out the stars and the “super moon” bathed the rugged mountains in blue light. After dinner we took time to admire the city’s ruins under nocturnal illumination. Getting away from the noise and exhaust of Cusco’s streets was a nice change. I’ll take the splash of streams over the grunting of buses any day.

The next morning we had a little more time to explore Ollantaytambo before going to the Chichubamba Agro-tourism project located near Urubamba. Here we got to visit several artisans’s houses and learn more about their craft.

I thought the handmade ceramic demonstration was particularly interesting. It probably goes without saying but Sonya was pretty fond of the chocolate making portion of the tour. After lunch, we rode back to Cusco and took the rest of the day to relax and start editing photos from the trip.

What barefoot runners taught me about gear

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Barefoot Ken Bob Saxton at the 2011 Born to Run ultra marathon.

Last year I wrote about and photographed something called the Born to Run Ultra Marathon; an event where supposedly sane people get together and run as far as 100 miles — some even attempt it without shoes. I started thinking about this ultra-minimalist approach to fitness again when I took up running last month.

Right away, actually even before I started running, I had a craving for gear. My wish list soon filled up with items like jackets, compression tops, shorts, leggings, sunglasses, hats, water bottles, iPod armbands, fanny packs, and shoes. Things I thought I “needed” before I could start running.

Fortunately, before I clicked the checkout button on Amazon, I remembered that none of that stuff really mattered. There is nothing in any sporting goods store that will allow someone to run 100 miles. Sure, some products might make you more comfortable but nothing you buy is going to transform you from a couch-potato into an ultra-marathon runner.

I can’t think of a single product available to runners than could benefit them more than getting up and going for the a run.  When it comes to fitness and creativity, we need to follow the advice of Nike and “just do it,” (which somewhat ironically would actually hurt the company’s bottom line).

The problem with gear is that sometimes we use it as an excuse to avoid hard work. Buying a new gadget feels really good and can often seem productive. But does it really make us better runners, photographers, or film makers in the end?

I don’t think so, or at least I don’t think it benefits us as much as actually getting out in the field and creating work does. You might argue that some technology changes so fast you can’t do without constant upgrades, but consider this; even my 5-year-old 40D can shoot something close to 4K time-lapse footage and scanned 4×5 film will compete with even the highest resolution cameras.

We need to stop using the pursuit of gear as an excuse not to create. The next time you consider putting off shooting or staying in bed instead of running, because you don’t have the right gear, remember there are people taking phenomenal photos with iPhones and runners logging insane distances in nothing but a pair of flimsy sandals.

I’m not saying gear is bad. It can be incredibly useful. Just don’t use it as a crutch. For now, I’m squeezing every megapixel out of my 40D until it bites the dust and racking up the miles in a pair of beat up TOMS and some bargain-bin gym shorts.

Ten Things James Joyce’s Ulysses Taught me About (Bad) Storytelling

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A while back I decided it was time to once again get into great literature. I thought my storytelling could benefit from some time with classic novels. One of the first books I picked up was James Joyce’s Ulysses, a book centered on the man Leopold Bloom and his misadventures during a single 24-hour period in Dublin. Did I learn anything upon arriving at the last page of this nearly 300,000 word tome? Actually, I leaned a lot and I can’t wait to start applying it to my work!

Disclaimer: This post is not recommended for those lacking the ability to detect sarcasm or individuals in possession of advanced English degrees. 

1. Interesting characters? Who needs ‘em? 

Of course we all know that good stories don’t always involve good people. Some of the most fascinating books and documentaries out there have horrible, unloveable people as their subjects. But did you know the characters of your story don’t even need to be interesting? Joyce proves this point by providing the reader with decrepit visions of humanity who do nothing more than live painfully boring lives that are painfully boring to read about. Honestly, who wouldn’t want to spend page after page reading about a character cooking a pork kidney?

2. Think you need concrete language to tell a good story? Think again. 

Before I read Ulysses I thought things like descriptions of place and a solid usage of descriptive nouns were important to telling a coherent story. Nope. Joyce shows us that an endless, unpunctuated sentence about half remembered to-do lists can propel a story along just as well as any red-headed boy on a dusty road by a clear river could.

3. Style over substance. 

I had long believed that style serves the story, at least when we are talking about anything but poetry. I thought that the way I write should reflect the narrative, change with the emotion of the moment, and remain clear so as not to obscure the story. Thanks to Joyce, I now see the error of my ways. Style should always come first, narrative just has to wait its turn. What is writing, if not a platform to show off how well-read you are and how many literary styles you can affect?

4. Include the details, all of them. 

As Dwight Schrute of The Office recently said while reporting on his coworkers’ activities, “Most of it’s irrelevant but a good informer doesn’t judge what’s worth passing on.” If Joyce were still alive I’m sure he would have patted Mr. Schrute on the back and told him he couldn’t agree more (although Joyce might have then needed to dodge a surprise nunchuk attack). Really, if you’re going to write about someone’s day, include all the details. Stomach cramps? Yep. The exact details of an outfit worn by a character never again mentioned? Of course. Every instance of defecation and urination? How could one think of doing otherwise?

5. Get to know and loath your audience. 

Let’s get one thing straight. All that advice you’ve heard about connecting with an audience, speaking to people on a level they understand, and striving for clarity of language, all that is utter tripe. The Guardian quoted Joyce as saying of Ulysses “I put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant…” If one of the interpretations of your book isn’t a giant middle finger to the public, then you must be doing something wrong.

6. Don’t worry about things like continuity, section headings, or readability. 

Look most people have nothing better to do than decipher your prose or figure out where your narrative changes directions. Plus they can always read chapter summaries on Wikipedia or reread what you wrote a couple of times. Don’t worry about it.

7. Include needless words. 

Did you enjoy Strunk and White’s Elements of Style? If you did, you must be a rotliveredsonofaguntripesoddenbackfatofagoutycow. Cram your sentences with words that sound cool, not words that are useful. Bonus points for using archaic, foreign, or made up words.

8. Punctuation is for suckers. 

you know whats cool run on sentences without a scrap of punctuation remember that mean old grammar teacher you had back in elementary school well this is your chance to get back at her this is your chance to show the world that you live on the edge and are one dangerous dude punctuation was created to help people communicate better with each other good thing you hate your audience or else you might actually have to use it

9. Remember it’s all about you. 

When you tell a story it should always be about you. Some people worry about including their own bias when recounting other’s stories; don’t. You wrote the darn thing so you might as well tell people how awesome you are. If you want to delve into your knowledge of obscure Irish mythology, go for it. Want to fill page after page with thinly veiled references to your own sexual proclivities? Why not? It’s your book after all. Think of yourself as Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris doesn’t insert his bias into others’ stories, all stories are Chuck Norris’s story.

10. Think people won’t read your work, no worries, you’re famous! 

Relax, you’re a world-famous author who is well-respected by his peers and has legions of devoted fans. Professors are going to force kids to read your work for years after you’re dead. Sure they may end up hating reading afterwards but you still got eyes on the page. Oh, you’re not a ridiculously famous Modernist author? Well then maybe this advice isn’t for you.

Stories More Powerful than Morphine

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Survivors of a sunken landing craft are helped ashore on Omaha Beach during the D-Day invasion. (Photo via U.S. Military, Public Domain)

Before my wife and I left on this trip, we downloaded a ton of Radiolab episodes to my laptop and our iPods. If you’re not familiar with Radiolab, I’d encourage you to check them out. As far as I’m concerned the people behind the show are some of our best modern storytellers. In the few months that I’ve listened to them, I’ve learned a tremendous amount about what makes a good story, both on the radio and in general.

I recently stumbled upon an episode from way back in 2007 about the placebo effect. The episode is about an hour-long and you can listen to it here. But what I want to talk about is a particular segment that begins 13 minutes into the program, it’s a story about stories and how they can actually change the way we feel, even take away pain.

This segment highlights the work of Dr. Henry Beecher who discovered something amazing in the middle of battle during World War II. Cut off from resupply, without enough morphine to treat all the wounded soldiers, Beecher found that many of them didn’t actually need the drug. Men with serious wounds seemed to have a higher pain tolerance in the heat of battle than those with similar injuries back in the States.

It’s worth your time to listen to the segment and their explanation of the hows and whys, but the gist of it is this: wounded soldiers had higher pain tolerances because they were telling themselves a better story. They were alive, their wounds were for a cause, they might get sent home and even awarded a medal. Provided they survived there was a good chance that these soldiers’ lives were going to get better.

The effect of this story was so profound it did more than give them a positive outlook, it actually changed the way they felt, sometimes it even took away the pain from horrible injuries.

Now you might think this has more to do with medical science than it does with the art of storytelling, but I think it illustrates something incredibly important about stories. Stories are hardwired into us. From the time we can comprehend language (and possibly before) we are fascinated by stories. There is a deep power in narrative that has the ability to change us in both mind and body.

Reminders like this, about how important stories are to us as humans, motivate me to make sure the stories I’m telling are good ones.

Postcards: Chacán Cave

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This past week we finally had a chance to escape the cobbled streets of Cusco and get some of that fresh (and thin) Andean air. Sonya and I hiked out to a place called Chacán Cave in a valley near Cusco. The place was pretty amazing and we got to catch glimpses of local life along the way. If you happen to read this blog and also be in Cusco, you can see a detailed trail report here. It should give you all the information you need to retrace our route.

Podcast: Climbing Cuesta Santa Ana

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So we’ve been in our new apartment for almost a week now, but I thought it would still be worth posting something about the guesthouse we were staying in when we first arrived in Cusco. Mostly because that guesthouse was reached only by one very brutal uphill climb through painfully thin air.

I decided the best way to tell this story was in audio format. This is the first time I’ve put together a podcast and it’s still a little rough around the edges, but a fun experiment nonetheless.

Click the play button below to listen.