Family Planning or Ethnic Cleansing in Peru?

In the 90s, hundreds of thousands of impoverished and often Indigenous Peruvian women were forcibly sterilized. Now, they seek justice.

Quechua Women and Children. Josh Walczak. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

In December of 2023, a fight that has spanned decades was dealt two major blows when former Peruvian President Alberto Fujimori was released from prison on the same day that Peru’s Supreme Court annulled an investigation into state-sponsored sterilizations. Fujimori, who oversaw the sterilization program during his presidency, had been serving time in prison after being found guilty of crimes against humanity by Interpol. Peru’s Constitutional Court authorized his release on humanitarian and health grounds less than two years after the Inter-American Court of Human Rights had overruled his pardon in 2022. Elected in 1990 during a period of great economic and political unrest in the country, Fujimori presided over an administration fraught with corruption, controversy, and human rights abuses. Most notoriously, he oversaw the Barrios Altos Massacre, for which he was charged and sentenced. 

Although their cases are the most widely publicized, political dissidents were not Fujimori’s only victims. After his re-election in 1995, the President introduced the National Reproductive Health and Family Planning Program (also known as the National Population Program) to address issues of poverty, economic instability and overpopulation. Fujimori presented the program as a feminist undertaking that would assure the reproductive rights of Peruvian women. Prior to the implementation of the program in 1996, women could only be approved for sterilization if they met a number of prerequisites, such as age or health risk factors. The National Population Program did away with the majority of those prerequisites. As a result, 272,028 women were sterilized by the government. Many of those women, however, have since come forward to say that they were subjected to the procedure against their will. 

In what has been called a genocide or ethnic cleansing, Fujimori’s administration mainly targeted women from impoverished backgrounds for sterilization, many of whom were members of Peru’s Indigenous communities. The sterilization program utilized policies developed by the Peruvian military in their Plan Verde, a military operation initially conceived as part of a coup against Fujimori’s predecessor. In one volume titled "Driving Peru into the 21st Century," the plan emphasized the convenience of sterilizing “culturally backward and economically impoverished groups.” Fujimori’s government employed unethical practices to manipulate and downright coerce women into undergoing the sterilization procedure, including by luring women to clinics under false pretenses, locking women inside the clinics, refusing essential healthcare unless they consented to the procedure, and holding the women down and injecting them with anesthesia. Doctors employed abusive language, accusing women with large families of acting like animals and of being useless. Even women who were already using other birth control methods, such as a Copper IUD, were subjected to sterilization. Many Indigenous women spoke Quechua rather than Spanish as a first language and did not understand what they were agreeing to, raising issues of informed consent.

“The Quipu Project,” developed in collaboration with MIT, is an online, interactive documentary that seeks to record and share the stories of women who were forcibly sterilized. Testimonies from Peruvian women document the suffering inflicted by the National Population Program. Many women were promised support and treatment during the recovery stage, only to be sent home immediately after the procedure, swollen, covered in rashes, with a variety of lasting medical issues. Some women, such as Celia Edith Ramos Durand, passed away from medical complications following the procedure. One woman from San Juan described the impact the operation has had on her life, saying “I don’t know if I will ever get better. I don’t believe I will ever heal … My whole body hurts. We are all in pain. Even my vagina hurts.” 

Rather than serving as a remedy to economic woes, the program National Population Program has devastated vulnerable impoverished and Indigenous communities. “Ever since I was sterilized, I haven’t been able to work as before,” one woman confessed to the Quipu hotline. “We want justice,” another says, “We have been suffering for so many years. There’s not even a doctor to check our health.”

Peru’s Supreme Court decided to annul the investigation into government-sponsored forced sterilization in December following a lawsuit filed by Fujimori’s Minister of Health, Alejandro Aguinaga, citing the statute of limitations as well as lack of evidence. This is not the first time the investigation has been impeded. For decades, the fight has been an uphill battle, as the investigation has been opened, closed and reopened many times. In 1999, various human rights groups collaborated to bring the case of Mamerita Mestanza Chavez, another woman who died following the sterilization procedure, before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. In 2001, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was established to investigate human rights abuses that occurred under Fujimori’s administration. Maria Isabel Cedano, a lawyer with the nonprofit organization DEMUS, is representing over one thousand plaintiffs before the IACHR. Unfortunately, none of these efforts have yet to yield results for the victims as the Peruvian government continues to dismiss cases and throw up legal roadblocks in an incredibly complex case that encompasses issues surrounding the definitions of consent, sexual violence and genocide. It is now up to the Attorney General’s office to demonstrate that the crimes committed represent an extreme violation of human rights in order to negate the statute of limitations. 

TO GET INVOLVED

Quechua Benefit: Quechua Benefit is a nonprofit organization that aims to empower Quechua people in Peru’s highlands. It provides education, economic support and medical services.

DEMUS: DEMUS is a Peruvian Feminist Organization that focuses on protecting women’s sexual and reproductive rights. One of their campaigns, “Somos 2074 Y Muchas Mas,” seeks reparations for the victims of Peru’s forced sterilization program. 

Rebecca Pitcairn

Rebecca studies Italian Language and Literature, Classical Civilizations, and English Writing at the University of Pittsburgh. She hopes to one day attain a PhD in Classical Archeology. She is passionate about feminism and climate justice. She enjoys reading, playing the lyre, and longboarding in her free time. 

Peru’s Floating Islands

The Uros Floating Islands on Lake Titicaca are man-made reed constructions in an Indigenous Quechua community.

Nestled amidst the stunning Andes Mountains, Peru’s Lake Titicaca is home to an extraordinary wonder: the Uros Floating Islands. Inhabited by Quechua families, these islands provide a unique window into the remarkable ingenuity and rich cultural heritage of the Quechua people, who are Indigenous to the Andean region of South America. These islands also stand as a testament to the enduring preservation of the Quechua's traditional way of life in a remote corner of the world.

There are around 50 of these islands, crafted entirely from floating reeds. As you approach them, you'll be struck by the vibrant colors that adorn this grassy landscape, seemingly out of a fantasy world. Even the boats and homes here are constructed using the same totoro reeds that grow on the lake.

Maintaining these islands involves a lot of work. Every day there are chores to be done to prevent the islands and boats from getting soggy and sinking. Each Quechua family meticulously stacks layers of reeds on top of floating mud, connecting them with wooden stakes like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Each morning, the men set out on a quest to cut down the totoro reeds, which are tall, sturdy plants, while the women expertly arrange them across the floors of their floating homes.

The group of 50 islands that make up Uros form two rows and water traffic between them creates the illusion of a river, although it's all part of Lake Titicaca. Typically, one extended family group resides on each island, and if someone wishes to move, they literally cut and float their piece to a new location — an ingenious and somewhat surreal practice.

Some local Quechua people, like Victor and his family on the island of Khantati, offer a very authentic cultural experience by opening up their homes for a multiday homestay. Upon arrival, you'll be greeted warmly by local women donning intricately woven skirts and braided hair adorned with colorful pom-poms. They'll dress you in their traditional layer wool skirt and vests attire and choose a hat that signifies your status on the island. Knitted caps are for single women, while married women wear straw hats. It's a charming way to announce one's relationship status!

A tour of the island reveals the Quechua’s unique way of life. From a fully-equipped kitchen powered by solar panels to a "lounge" area with grass-made swing sets and chairs, their resourcefulness shines through. You'll also find a pond stocked with fish, separate restrooms for men and women (effectively porta-potties with holes cut through the island beneath them), and family homes. Despite their simplicity, some islands boast satellite TV and solar electricity. You might encounter a family cat or even a pet flamingo. Although the mainland with its wired electricity is within eyesight, these families still choose to continue living in the ways of their ancestors. Communication for visitors can be a challenge, as they speak an Indigenous Quechua language rooted in ancient Incan dialects and some Spanish. I found that a combination of sign language and gestures bridges the gap and also doing family portraits with my camera allowed for meaningful interactions.

Days here are filled with observing Quechua women selling their handmade woven reed crafts to passing tourists. In the evenings, you can join a Quechua "gondolier" like Victor, the patriarch of Khantati Island, for a canoe ride in traditional garb. You'll witness firsthand how they fish and harvest reeds for their island. The boats, such as the one you're rowed in on, are handcrafted by locals and last about a year and eight months before succumbing to the elements. The constant maintenance required serves as a reminder of the islanders' connection to nature.

Life here is refreshingly simple, far removed from the trappings of modern life. Their only link to the outside world is a small floating convenience store and the occasional visit from curious tourists. This centuries-old way of life serves as a reminder that simplicity can be a choice, free from the stresses of cell phones, emails and mortgage payments.

I spent two unforgettable days floating, fishing and weaving alongside these resilient people. At night, I found comfort in a grass hut, tucked beneath woven blankets with heated water bottles. Surprisingly, this remote Andean haven felt like home and I never slept better in my life.

Laura Grier

Laura is a dynamic Adventure Photographer, Photo Anthropologist, Travel Writer, and Social Impact Entrepreneur. With a remarkable journey spanning 87 countries and 7 continents, Laura's lens captures both the breathtaking landscapes and the intricate stories of the people she encounters. As a National Geographic artisan catalog photographer, Huffington Post columnist, and founder of Andeana Hats, Laura fuses her love for photography, travel, and social change, leaving an impact on the world.

A Grassroots Youth Movement Is Changing the Political Narrative in Peru

Recent political instability in Peru has resulted in violent uprisings led by the nation’s youth, who are fed up with longstanding corruption. 

Protesters Take the Streets in Lima, Peru CC BY-SA 4.0

Over the past few months Peru’s political system, and especially its President Dina Boluarte, have come under the scrutiny of protestors demanding fair and just elections. A country that ranks 101 out of 180 on the 2022 Corruption Perceptions Index, Peru is categorized as one of the nations with the most public sector corruption. Facing regional criticism with polarization, impeachment threats, and violent manifestations across the country, Peru’s current turmoil is opening a path towards a new Peruvian identity for young citizens who wish to set their nation on a different course. Seeking democracy and transparency, a group of Peruvian students are increasing awareness of structural changes that they feel must take place in their country.

Former Peruvian President Pedro Castillo was arrested in January 2023 after an attempted coup from above, resulting in the ascension of the then Vice President Dina Boluarte to head of state. Many citizens, however, especially those outside of the capital Lima, felt that this was an attack on their freedom because there was no democratic input in the transition. Throughout the pandemic Peru suffered an economic downturn that reduced access to basic services, especially for health care and education. Triggered by the political unrest, civilians have since taken to the street in violent anti-government protests, demanding that their nation allow transparent elections and eliminate elite privilege.

Demonstrations at Plaza Manco Capac following the Ayacucho massacre CC BY-SA 4.0

Peru’s youth  have been key to these protests, taking a stand and raising their voices to demand what they view as a better future free of corruption with access to quality basic services. Creating their own slogan, #TheyMessedWithTheWrongGeneration, Peru’s younger population warns authorities that they will not rest, and plan on continuing the fight for an end to systematic dishonesty and fraud. Considered a grassroots movement, the non-partisan group is gaining momentum as even some among the older generations feel that the current government no longer represents them and that their country deserves better. One activist in the movement, a 33-year-old publicist named Diego Cruz, gave the following statement to reporters at a march, “It’s not just one generation marching here, it’s everyone, because we feel outraged that [congress] is carving up the country.” 

The youth movement also demands university reform, adherents arguing that access to college is not possible for everyone, especially those that live in rural communities far from the cities. Politicians and traditional political analysts mistook the youth’s dissatisfaction of the old ways for political apathy, a supposition which has now proven woefully false. Members hope that their movement can pave the way to a better, more transparent Peru.  It remains to be seen whether they will achieve this.

Kimberly Hidalgo Hernandez

Having obtained a MA in International Policy, Kimberly seeks to bridge the gap between global development and government legislation. Growing up between the United States and Spain, she believes that travel is the best way to discover yourself and understand the world. Her goal is to promote a deeper awareness of the effects of climate change in society and politics.

Before the Sex Pistols, There Was Peruvian Punk Rock

Western punk groups have taken credit for starting the punk movement, but a small group in 1960s Peru would say otherwise. 

Peruvian punk band Los Saicos. TravelingMan. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Punk music has been used for decades as a means to express discontent about numerous topics, including politics and controversial events. But where does the genre come from? While it is easy to claim Western influences, like the Sex Pistols and The Clash to be the forefathers of the punk scene, the Peruvian rock band Los Saicos, formed in 1964, is a strong contender for the position of “Originators of Punk.”

In order to make comparisons between Los Saicos and Western punk bands, a definition of punk music is in order. Punk music consists of fast beats and often aggressive lyrics that seek to critique certain ideas or systems of power. A recent academic article discusses how the lyrics to the Sex Pistol’s “Anarchy in the U.K.” were a critique of the U.K.’s foreign policy in Ireland, a period known as The Troubles. The Los Saicos song “Demolición” lacks a specific reference to Peruvian politics at the time, but clearly expresses discontent with government infrastructure. 

The members of Los Saicos were likely influenced by the political turmoil within Peru during their upbringing. Guitarist and vocalist Erwin Flores and drummer Francisco Guevara had just graduated high school and were grappling with unprecedented political strife, drastically affecting how they prosper as adults. The group was established in 1964, with “Demolición” being one of the country’s biggest songs that year. Amidst massive inflation under President Fernando Terry’s land redistribution policy, economic hardship increased for Peruvians. The lyrics are representative of a future that was promised to them with Terry’s liberal redistribution policies, but one that ultimately drowned with the Peruvian sol’s value. ‘Demolición’ expresses hatred at the government for promising a future and delivering inflation. 

Los Saicos broke up in 1966, but its influence was picked up by garage rockers throughout Peru and abroad in the U.K. The punk genre’s grungy and generally angsty music did not necessarily originate from the members of Los Saicos, but they were critical in the genre’s explosion in popularity, especially in areas where there was a discontent with state functions. 

“Nobody invented the wheel, we were obviously building off of what others have done,” said Flores in an interview. 

The band’s desire to express themselves within a country in turmoil ranges across languages and generations, effectively changing how the music scene functioned as ‘angry’ music started becoming mainstream and profitable.  

Clayton Young

Clayton is an aspiring photojournalist with a Bachelor's in Liberal Studies with a minor in History from Indiana University - Bloomington. In his free time, he enjoys hikes, movies, and catching up on the news. He has written extensively on many topics including Japanese incarceration in America during World War II, the history of violence, and anarchist theory.

The Downside of Ecotourism

The term ecotourism has been around for decades but the misunderstanding and overuse of the term has led to a lack of environmental success in a CO2 sucking industry. Places like Machu Picchu now receives over 6,000 visitors a day during peak season, making it hard to properly conserve the historical site.

According to the World Travel and Tourism Council, tourism as a whole makes up 10% of global GDP and supports over 319 million jobs. That is a huge industry but it also has a huge environmental impact. Air traffic alone accounts for 5% of CO2 emissions globally and the number of air passengers is expected to only grow, reaching 13 billion by 2030. In addition, tourists often use more resources than locals, eating at restaurants, using more water, generating more waste, and driving rental cars. Often desired tourist destinations are ones of natural beauty, with high densities in coastal, mountain, and lake areas. These environments are more susceptible to environmental degradation and increased traffic to protected areas can affect conservation efforts. A potential solution: eco-tourism. 

Ecotourism was defined in 1990 by the The International Ecotourism Society (TIES) with a focus on, “responsible travel to natural areas that conserves the environment and improves the well-being of local people”. It has good intentions: natural conservation and benefiting locals. Often eco-lodges do have greener accommodations but they can often be in remote locations, therefore requiring more carbon emissions to get there. Human presence in isolated areas will always have effects on the local land and wildlife no matter how much it is tried to be controlled. The more popular eco-tourist destinations become, the harder it is to limit the impact. 

A great example of this is Machu Picchu. Tourism is the second largest industry in Peru. Machu Picchu specifically is a highly sought-after tourist destination. The tourism there has had a huge impact on the environment. UNESCO recommended the Peruvian government to limit numbers to 2,000 a day to reduce the degradation. Instead, the government switched the ticketing process to half-day tickets, effectively increasing daily numbers from 2,500 to over 6,000, with an additional 500 a day on the Inca Trail. The lack of infrastructure supporting these numbers leads to an even higher impact. There is only one bathroom at the entrance and human waste is a huge problem. The closest village, Aguas Calientes, has resorted to pumping human waste into the Urubamba River. Increases in garbage, especially plastic water bottles, on the Inca Trail also contributes to uncontrolled waste. Jobs provided to locals are seasonal, often poorly paid, and have a huge physical cost. Machu Picchu had the potential to be a great eco-tourist site but overcrowding and mismanagement has led to a lack of conservation and hurting local communities. Yet, it still viewed and even advertised as eco-tourism. 

The term ecotourism is now over used. It has been stretched from its original purpose to encompass any nature-related travel and to many is synonymous with sustainable. This is far from true and with companies using greenwashing, consumers are not sure what they are paying for. Greenwashing is when organizations falsely advertise through an environmentally-friendly lens. In tourism this is often increased by inconsistencies in certifying bodies. Or in something as simple as have a sign in the bathroom promoting water conservation. This has a huge impact on the effectiveness of ecotourism when people who are trying to be environmentally conscious end up supporting the wrong businesses. Eco-tourism also tends to draw from a wealthier demographic, with 57% of people making over $150.000 saying they would book an eco-tourist trip, compared to 16% at $34,000. This is largely influenced by the higher price of eco-tourist trips. If ecotourism is to decrease the large environmental impact of tourism as a whole, it has a lot of work to do to limit greenwashing, overcrowding, and transportation effects while increasing affordability, minimizing local impact and supporting local communities. 

DEVIN O’DONNELL

Devin’s interest in travel was cemented by a multi-month trip to East Africa when she was 19. Since then, she has continued to have immersive experiences on multiple continents. Devin has written for a start-up news site and graduated from the University of Michigan with a degree in Neuroscience.

PERU: Weavers of the Sky

Traditional handwoven fabrics embody the living history and heritage of the Peruvian highlands. Intricate textile patterns with expressive names such as Mayu Qenqo (meandering river) or Pumac Makin (puma footprints) tell tales of the geography and events of the Andean region and its history over thousands of years.

“Weaving is part of how we communicate our history to younger generations and the rest of the world,” Rosemary tells me, as she runs her fingers through alpaca thread in her home. Her fervour is palpable, as she explains how skilled weavers have passed ancient knowledge from old to young, generation after generation.

For years, hand-woven fabrics have embodied the living history and culture of the Peruvian Highlands. Textile patterns with expressive names like Mayu Qenqo (Meandering River) or Pumac Makin (Puma Footprints) tell tales of the events in the Andean region, as well as its diverse and chaotic landscape and sacred history spanning thousands of years.

Above: Detail of Asunta, a young Andean weaver from a traditional Quechua community in the Piuray Lagoon weaving a new textile. Weaving is done using a simple backstrap loom, and the pattern design is woven only from memory.

As I made my way through the thundering mountains that so gracefully embrace the Sacred Valley, I listened with fascination to the ancient — yet living — stories about Quechua customs that my driver Elvis was reciting. He proudly told me the history of his land and the people who have inhabited it since pre-Columbine times. The ambition and scale of his tales matched any Western classic, despite never being written down.

“Manco Capac was the first and greatest of all the Inca — son of Inti, the Sun, who brought him up from the depths of the Lake Titikaka to rule from the great city of Cusco, the navel of the Earth.”

We take an unexpected left turn off of the main road, and start to approach Piuray Lagoon, as Elvis continues with his story. “Manco Capac had two children, a girl and a boy. Then one day Inti asked Manco Capac to go and find his children so that they could spend the sunset together. Yet when he went looking for them, he found in their place two lagoons; the Huaypo Lagoon (his son) and the Piuray Lagoon (his daughter).”

“These two lagoons,” explains Elvis, announcing our arrival, “represent the duality and balance of the sexes in modern day Quechua culture.”

Above: In the home of Rosemary (22), a young Andean weaver in Piuray Lagoon, raw alpaca fibre and traditionally processed yarn hang from a branch. The raw alpaca fibres are carefully washed by hand using a soap prepared from the yuca root, preparing them to be hand spun into yarn.

In 1528 the Spanish colonisation of the Inca Empire destroyed and eradicated all written records of Incan culture, which was the only palpable account of Quechua customs and folklore. Now, the only original testament is found between the threads of intricate textile designs handwoven by indigenous communities of the Puna (Andean highlands).

Right up until the present day, Quechuan communities from the Peruvian highlands have been the keepers of tradition and the sustainers of an ancient yet arduous way of life. They work in absolute harmony with the Peruvian mother earth, whom they call Pachamama. Their unique weaving practices and patterns date back to pre-Columbian civilisations, and continue to be a great symbol of Quechuan cultural identity.

Reaching a small village near Piuray, we meet Mariana, a young girl with innocent features wearing a traditional montera (hat) and iliclla (black shoulder cloth) paired with a colourful vest and skirt. Walking beside her llama, Mariana explains how the women of Chinchero proudly wear their hand woven textiles and clothing on a daily basis, to differentiate the identity of their community from others in the highlands.

Above: Mariana (18), a young Andean girl from a traditional Quechua community in Piuray Lagoon, poses for a portrait with her llama. Both llamas and alpacas, domesticated species of camelid, provide lanolin-free fibres, making them soft and insulating, no matter the climate.

The region of Chinchero, at 3,780 meters above sea level in the province of Urubamba, is home to several Quechua communities. The men farm the land and harvest potatoes, barley, and quinoa to feed their families and sell at nearby markets, while the women raise llamas and alpacas to obtain textile fibres to weave. Alpaca and llama threads are lanolin-free, making them soft and insulating, regardless of the climate.

Women like Mariana spin on simple drop spindles and weave their colourful yarn on traditional back-strap looms while tending to their flock of alpacas or letting their family’s food cook over a fire, just as their forebears did before them for centuries. “I started playing with wool and spindles when I was very young. Then, around the time I was six years old, my older sisters started teaching me simple weaving techniques and patterns through observation and repetition,” explains Mariana.

Above: The patterns on this fabric represent Mayu Qenqo (Meandering River), Pumac Makin (Puma Footprints), and the Piuray and Huaypo lagoons. Rosemary (22), a young Andean weaver from the Piuray Lagoon, checks the dye process of a natural ball of yarn inside the colouring pot.

Chinchero has traditionally relied on farming for financial sustainability, yet in the recent years, demographic and social changes have forced these small communities to find new ways to sustain themselves. Competition with large agricultural corporations means that local farmers can no longer rely on farming to financially support their families. Indigenous women who used to weave just to serve their family have now had to increase their production and sell textiles in local markets.

Above: Concepcion (24) and her daughter Feliciana (7), from a traditional Quechua community near Piuray Lagoon, pose for a portrait in the weaving workshop.

“They want to change Chinchero,” explains Concepcion, a weaver and mother of two. “The government has seized some land to make an international airport and to build big hotels that cater to the growing tourism that is overwhelming the city of Cusco [50km away from the village of Piuray]. This is changing everything for our communities, forcing us to give up our ancient way of life, which will soon be unsustainable in competition with the growing demands of tourism.”

The women of the Chinchero region are regarded as the keepers of tradition and the cultural identity of their community. Concepcion’s daughter Felicia, at the tender age of 7, is already learning the elaborate process of weaving through her mother and the women in her family.

By the 1970s, as a result of the exponential growth of tourism in the Sacred Valley, mainly due to the popularity of Machu Picchu, many Quechua weavers started to change their production. They began using artificial aniline dyes instead of natural ones and making simple patterns on more homogenised non-traditional fabrics to keep up with the increasing demand from tourism. These new textile designs no longer reflect the ancient weaving traditions of the communities, and their culture and identity are now sadly at risk of being lost and forgotten.

Above: A selection of natural produce such as purple corn, green coca leaves, blue flowers, cochineal, salts and beans, all found growing in the Urubamba Valley and the Andean highlands. They are used by local Quechua communities to create natural dyes for colouring fibre and wool.

The balance between financial sustainability, quality of life, and sustaining the heritage of the Quechua people is a delicate one. Back in Rosemary’s home, she explains, “It is not only a cultural art form, but an integral part of our social organisation and economic situation.” She goes quiet for a while, before returning to the fibres on a drop spindle.

Today, although few in number, there still exist communities that remain largely unchanged in the face of globalisation. In a visit to some of the less transited areas of the highlands, I discovered villages that are winning the battle to preserve their customs, despite the increasing difficulties they face. They hold firm against the alluring tide of modernity, passing down knowledge from older to younger generations, from mother to daughter.

It is my hope that they will continue do so, whilst also benefitting from better access to healthcare and education, for many years to come.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA

MARTA TUCCI

Documentary photographer and writer, specializing in human rights, with a particular focus on issues of identity, migration and social exclusion. www.martatucci.com

PERU: The Roof of America

There are two spectacular mountain ranges in Peru, the Cordillera Blanca and the Cordillera Huayhuash. The vast majority of people who travel to Peru, go to see Machu Picchu. Around 1% of travelers visit the Blanca and Huayhuash each year. These mountains have snow all year but the snow level is very high because the mountains are close to the equator. Most people who trek in these ranges will use guiding companies that provide donkeys and horses to carry the equipment and supplies. Even though one does not need to carry much, the trekking in these ranges at altitude is a lot of work.
 

The Huayhuash mountains are very steep and difficult to climb. Siula Grande, made famous by the book and film Touching the Void, is in this small but amazing range. Most who travel to Huayhuash do a long trek around the mountains. The trek is mostly above 4,000 meters (13,123 feet) the entire time and climbs many high passes including a 5,000m (16,404 feet). pass or two. As I recall there was a pass or two every day of the trek. There are beautiful lakes on both sides of the mountains.
 

In the Cordillera Blanca there are many more mountains and there are many that are much more reasonable for climbing than in Huayhuash. The most famous mountain here is Alpamayo. There is also a long trek, the Cedros Alpamayo Trek, that roughly circles Alpamayo. It is a long trek although the altitude is not quite as high as the Huayhuash trek. There is also a shorter trek called Santa Cruz that offers an opportunity to see the base camp of Alpamayo.
 

These are truly spectacular, and serious mountains. You would need to head to the Himalaya or the Karakoram to see bigger mountains. I’m sure Alaska is amazing as well. These mountains in Peru, however, are fairly easy to reach compared to these other ranges once you are in the country. Another advantage is that these mountains are close to the Equator and are therefore usually not too cold, which makes climbing a much more pleasant experience.

Trekking and climbing in the high mountains of Northern Peru, a rarely visited region, the beauty and scale of the Cordillera Blanca and the Cordillera Huayhuash ranges from the sublime to the overwhelming.
 

 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA. 

 

ERIC HODGES

Eric Hodges is a photographer for Maptia. He is from Corte Madera, California.