On 3.5.87, as part of the trip after my service in the army, I arrived in the village of Chinchero in Peru. Andi village (3,800 meters above sea level) located in the sacred valley between Cusco and Urubamba. It is a pure Inca village and most of the residents' houses were built on the remains of the Inca buildings that lived there before the Spanish invasion.
Chinchero is one of the last places where you can find a market that also works with the barter method. Today it is a little less common, but back then, in 1985 it was the accepted way to "buy" and "sell" products in the area. That's exactly why we went to the village, to get to know the method and the people involved in it.
The traditional Sunday market is the largest market where the locals present their wares: food items, clothing and tools for the locals but also arts and crafts produced by the locals using traditional methods that are passed down from generation to generation. The local specialty is textiles made from alpaca wool in crazy colors, but there are other tools and products.
The market is run by the women and the language spoken in it is Kat', so the communication was done in my case in sign language. It is hard to remain indifferent to the abundance in this village. It is an abundance of products but also an abundance of giving. And since I still have a long trip ahead of me, I didn't plan to buy anything so as not to burden the heavy truck anyway. But what happened forced me to change my plans.
In one of the corners, on the floor sat a mother with a baby tied to her back using a piece of spectacularly colored cloth, on her head a bright red hat whose top is made of an equally colorful cloth. I was in my earth colors period, and this coloration seemed to me to shout excessively. I understood that it fits the place and is related to their tradition and history, but I couldn't relate to it. Today, of course, I see it differently, but then I decided that I can't buy something that isn't me ♀️ 🤦. On the floor in front of this woman was spread a thick cloth woven with wool of the same color and on it were placed dishes made of traditional ceramics - bowls, cups, a kind of beautiful pots and jugs, all made by hand.
I picked up one of the jugs and was blown away - I couldn't take my eyes off the traditional decorations that I had already gotten to know in South America. These were decorations that were used since the Inca period and in the pot they told the story of the local weavers ever since. In some of the vessels there were figures busy in the spinning process and in the other part the accepted examples of decoration then and still today among the villagers. An alpaca was drawn on the edge of the urn, from which the wool was produced for weaving the textiles.
The pitcher's handle was designed in the shape of an Andean mountain cat, which was considered a sacred animal during the Inca period. From an inquiry I made later it became clear that this type of jar was used to store traditional fermented corn beer also known as "t'it" Since then. When you look at the pitcher, it is closed at the top and it took me a while to figure out how to use it. The mother turned it over and demonstrated to me - the water is poured into a hole at the bottom of the jug, after that, when it is put back, not a single drop of water is spilled. She took a glass, tilted the jug and water began to flow from it and the mountain cat directly into the glass. I was mesmerized and knew I had to own such an enchanted vessel.
I took the local money out of my pocket and showed it to her so that she would take the amount the pot costs. She made movements of no with her head and I got a little confused. If she doesn't want to sell her kidney, what is she doing in the market?
After a few moments she pointed to a faded umbrella that was hanging from the end of my umbrella - the description of the umbrella as faded is kind to her - it had already gone through many hardships on the trip, and to begin with it was a cheap folding umbrella that I bought in Israel. I disconnected the umbrella and handed it to Mama, who had a smile of happiness on her face - I felt a little uncomfortable due to the unfair trade conditions and I tried to hand her the scarf that I had taken off my neck as well, but she gave me a piercing look and made a movement with her hands indicating that it was not necessary. Happy, I watched her pack the tool in several layers of rough paper and hand it over to me. I couldn't believe that thanks to this cheap western thing, I got a magical ceramic vessel, and I was very excited, literally to tears.
From all the enthusiasm, I didn't think about what it means that now, in the middle of a trip to Mozillars, I have in my hand a beautiful ceramic vessel, 35 cm high and weighing 1.8 kg, and a Mozilla that has no place to put a pin and is heavy by itself. But what do you not do for love? And I was in love.
I did the rest of the trip with a heavy backpack on my back and a dish wrapped in brown paper, really heavy, on my hands.
More than 35 years have passed since then, and every time I dust it, I think in my heart how lucky I was to be able to get this beautiful tool for a casual and cheap western product.
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