Tuesday 24 January 2012

Salta: Mummies and Music

We fly  north west over mile after mile of arid land until suddenly the ground beneath us turns green, with tree covered hills rolling down into vivid green pastures, and land in Salta.

Surrounded by hills, Salta has its own microclimate, producing far more rain, particularly now, in the summer months, than anywhere around it.  Architecturally, the Spanish colonial influence is more obvious here, due no doubt to the city’s proximity to the silver mines of present day Bolivia much treasured by Spain.  The main square is surrounded by a pretty pink cathedral, a low white cabildo (town hall) with typically arched windows and a number of other colonial buildings, one of which houses the fascinating “mummy museum”.  Elsewhere the decorative façade of the San Francisco church is dwarfed by a huge bell tower and many smaller colonial buildings now house shops, bars and hotels – including our own, the delightful Hotel del Virrey, full of colonial charm.

Salta is famous for two things – the best empanadas in Argentina, and the Pena (pronounced pen-ya) – the folk music and dance of the gaucho.  We sample them both – several times.

In both Mendoza and Salta there are whole streets devoted to eating and drinking.  Belcarce in Salta is also the place to see the best Pena shows. Stern-looking, but very cute, gauchos in wide-brimmed hats and wide-legged trousers tucked into their boots compete with each other, drumming furiously on cow-hide covered drums before breaking into wild dances, the footwork as fast and thrilling as that of the flamenco.  They show a romantic side in formal dances wooing skirt-swishing, handkerchief waving ladies – presumably after long, lonely months on the plains.  The pena folksongs are easy on the ear but, like the tango in Buenos Aires, tinged with melancholy.

The mummy museum – or museum of archaeology of the high mountains – is my favourite in Salta.  The mummies in question are three perfectly preserved Inca children who were found buried at the top of a mountain at over 6000m.  The video footage of the archeological team carefully unwrapping the cloak covering one of the children’s faces is riveting.  Every feature is preserved, even the lock of hair falling over one closed eye.  Child sacrifices were rare – and they were thought to be with their ancestors rather than dead – and used only after the death of an Incan ruler to cement the vast empire under the new Inca.  Carefully selected children – usually high born – were brought to Cusco from all corners of the Incan world.  These children would have walked many hundred, if not thousands of miles through present day Bolivia, crossing Lake Titicaca and the high Altiplano of Peru before descending to Cusco.  Here they were “married” to children from other communities in a splendid ceremony, before walking back home, where they were again feted before being marched up the mountain, given drink or drugs and sealed into their tomb still alive..  In the high mountain air it is unlikely they would wake, and the facial expressions on the mummified bodies look very peaceful.

We also stumble across Pajcha, a tiny private museum devoted to the art and craft of ethnic America – essentially the communities of Andean Peru, Bolivia and Argentina.  It is largely a collection made by one woman over 35 years and seeks to show the influence of the various cultures on each other – including the spread of the Incan empire and the Spanish – and how the distinctive art and craft styles live on today.  We are given a personal tour by Diego, the infectuously enthusiastic director. Amongst the beautiful silver jewellery and intricate weaving, he points out the strangest exhibit, and clearly his own research: photographs taken from 3 churches – 1 in Peru, 1 in Bolivia and 1 in Argentina showing paintings of “angels with firearms”.  The “angels” have coloured wings, are dressed in Spanish dress of the day and are priming guns – whether to fire on the devil or recalcitrant converts, no-one knows - not even the equally colourful, Diego.

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