The Andean Resilience
In what ways does a place show its resilience?
Sometimes the harshest of environments offer a kind of unparalleled beauty that our minds could only ever paint by actually seeing. Sometimes even after years of cultural corruption under different empires, ancient knowledge and identity find a way to thrive by any means possible. Sometimes the toughest of barriers serve to amplify survival instincts, charting new ways to keep generations going.
Such contrasting dualities from the high altitudes of Bolivia to the wide-spanning deserts of Peru have come to shape the awe-inspiring symbol of Andean resilience.
Beauty within Barrenness – Resilience in Landscapes
Being home to some of the most extreme conditions – whether it be climate or elevation – vast expanses of Bolivia and Peru may seem isolated. Yet, there is a surprising and one-of-a-kind vibrancy to its landscapes that have been years in the making.
A Thorny Oasis: The mid-morning sun pierces Bolivia’s Salar de Uyuni to reflect a glaring white light no matter where you look. Spanning miles of salty nothingness are these world’s largest salt flats at the high altitude of 3,656m above sea level.
Yet, it harbours a little oasis right in the middle – the Isla Incahausi. Meaning ‘house of the Incas’ in the local Quechua tongue, it was apparently named as such due to some of the archaeological remains of the pre-Incan people found here. Withstanding extreme low temperatures, large green cacti bring this otherwise-uninhabited oasis to life, adding a welcome contrast to the scenery. Over hundreds of years old, these cacti retain memories of climate and biological responses that help them to thrive.
A Stone Army: Dotted by mostly active volcanoes, the Andean Altiplano is one of the largest plateaus in the world. It is against this backdrop on the Bolivian side that one experiences a haunting area with an apocalyptic feel.
Fondly called the Stone Army, the petrified corals stand high and dry, well after the sea water that once submerged the area millennia ago evaporated. Even though shrouded in complete silence, when walking between these bizarre coral ‘soldiers’, one almost senses that they can spring alive at any moment. Such is the dynamism of these inanimate, natural formations.
A Bleeding Lake: Surrounded by borax salt deposits and volcanic rocks, a pinkish-red body of water emerges to offer a refreshing respite to the desert-like scenes that stretch the Bolivian Altiplano. This natural wonder aptly reflects its name, the Laguna Colorada (Red Lagoon).
Less than a metre deep, this shallow salt lake located well above 4,000m altitude, can hardly shelter any wildlife. Yet, working with the red algae, plankton and other microorganisms in the lake, it creates a balanced ecosystem offering much needed nourishment to the birds of this region.
An Alien Planet: Way down south of Bolivia, dawn cracks light on a mystical, other-worldly place filled with hot geysers, steaming earth holes and bubbling mud pools. Perched high up at an altitude of 4,850m, one can’t help but get an eerie-feeling of being on Mars.
Nothing about the rust-coloured, crater-like formations on the surface seem to indicate anything beyond tranquillity. Yet, early in the morning, the sulphur-smelling cold air combining with the hot surface creates thick wisps of smoke, signalling the rich, unrelenting volcanic activity deep beneath.
A Layered Canvas: At over 5,000m altitude, the canvas of Peru’s Palccoyo mountains and the Red Valley had been harbouring centuries-old secrets. At least until recently. But with the erosion and weathering of soil over the past couple decades, it slowly started to reveal the multi-coloured layers beneath – each with a geological story to tell.
Previous tectonic activity brought the deeply packed minerals to the surface, creating the perfect condition for them to paint the canvas with rainbow colours. Distinctly standing out in this assortment is the bright red; owing its shade to the iron-rich soil. But beyond this natural artistry, there is a sacredness that the place holds for the local Indigenous communities. Embodying the beauty of Mother Earth (‘Pachamama’), these rolling hills and valleys stay deeply intertwined with local culture and traditions.
A Bloody Bath: Away from all the high altitude, lies the Paracas peninsula on the coasts of Peru with its sandy deserts and oceanside cliffs. As the waves hugging the cliffs recede, one stretch of beach in particular feels like it’s emerging from a blood bath. Yet, one can’t miss the colourful harmony that is in play as the crystal blue Pacific waters accentuates the reddish brown sand.
The rust coloured sediments can be traced back to the ancient volcanic eruptions in the area. As the volcanic magma combined with sand, it yielded rare rock fragments that were slowly chipped away by the ocean waves to yield the reddish hue that now blankets the beach.
Endurance through Erosion – resilience in communities
Nestled into these barren yet beautiful landscapes, are communities that have struggled to bear a piece of their past in the present. Communities that have been held back through failed economies and traps of progress. Enduring through various forms of social, economic and cultural oppression, there lies an unwavering determination in the Andes to protect ancient wisdom, traditions and values from eroding.
Skeletal Hopes: Just outside the world’s largest salt flats, near the Bolivian town of Uyuni, the last thing one expects to see is an open-air graveyard. Although, this is not of calcium-rich bones but of salt-weathered, rusted steel.
The area once held potential for being a major transportation hub endorsed by British and local authorities. But with the collapse of the mining industry in the mid-20th century and growing tensions with neighbouring countries, the hope for wealth and prosperity was abandoned along with the plans for expanding the train network. Instead, the bare landscape was left behind with withering bodies and skeletal remains of the once hope-carrying train cars.
Against this image of what was once made for greatness laying in decay, a steadfast hope arises. Left behind with nothing but salt, the community had needed to broaden its horizon and stay resilient. Therefore, despite being surrounded by poor infrastructure and broken systems, they reimagined their biggest asset – the salt flats. Transforming itself as a gateway for tourism, Uyuni is gradually reviving the economic promise and hope.
Undying Traditions: It’s in a deep bowl that the world’s highest capital city has found its base. Sitting in the Choqueyapu river canyon, against the snowy peaks of the Illimani mountain, is Bolivia’s La Paz. Once home to just a local indigenous Aymara village, today it’s a melting pot of traditions.
Striking gold along the river meant that those who came from afar never left. So, after the Spaniards established their base in the area back in the 16th century, what ensued is a familiar story of colonization and cultural enslavement. Yet, today the indigenous Aymara people make up roughly half the population, proudly tracing their history and culture hundreds of years back. Even as they adopted as a survival tactic the Catholic faith, Spanish language and European culture imposed by the colonizers, they never lost sight of what was theirs to begin with. Whether through their clothing, festivals, rituals or even connection to the earth, the Aymara language, customs and traditions still echo in their lives. Because here, even just remembering is a form of resilience.
Unwoven Economy: Overlooking Peru’s fertile green Sacred Valley is a small Indigenous community of Ccaccaccollo. Just like the carefully hand-woven clothes they don, the 140 or so Quechua-speaking families living in this community are close-knit. Their weaving methods and intricate designs have been often passed down from mothers to daughters for generations. But it wasn’t too long ago that their intergenerational legacy was at risk of being slowly erased.
With the rapid uptick of the tourism industry since the 1990’s, the Sacred Valley had become the global gateway to the mystical ruins of the ancient Incan empire. Yet the benefits from this economic boom barely reached this community. With their survival at stake, local residents ventured out to more populous areas to earn for their families. Unfortunately setting aside the charm of age-old weaving traditions and other customs to cater to the evolving whims of tourists.
But a cultural revival was just around the corner. With a little help, the community came together to make a local women’s weaving cooperative happen. But this was more than just about providing a source of income close to home. This became a space where a woman was not only sharing her knowledge but also a piece of herself and that of the women who came before her.
Like the mitochondrial DNA that gets inherited from mothers, the very fabric of a woman’s identity and the community’s unique traditions are passed on here. Hopeful of surviving the evolution of modern-day contemporaries, through the next set of generations.
Weedy Resourcefulness: At first glance, the reed-thatched houses and boats floating atop Lake Titicaca seem like a scene from eons ago. And for good reason. Here on the world’s highest navigable lake, the distinctive floating islands of Uros is home to one of the oldest inhabitants of the Andes – the Uru people.
Originally from Bolivia, the Uru had migrated to the Peruvian side of the lake a few millennia ago. While they were able to maintain their cultural identity for years, their intermingling and trading relations with the Aymara indigenous group centuries later, slowly started to bring a shift. The first in the form of losing their ancestral language of Pukina to adopt the Aymara speak.
But as the Incan empire began to expand and was subsequently conquered by the Spanish, the Uru were pushed from the land onto the waters. It was at this point that the aquatic totora reeds truly became a lifeblood for the Uru. Everything from the houses, boats to even the floating islands themselves were fashioned from these native plants.
The Uru continued to live off the local fish and the reeds that provided them the much-needed food and medicine. But with the introduction of non-native fish as part of the British expedition, the local fish species were driven to extinction. Threatened with their livelihood yet again, the Uru returned to the much-revered reeds to provide for themselves and their families. But this time in the form of tourism.
Showcasing their unique culture, traditions and stories, they have opened themselves to the rest of the world. And while some of that culture was being commodified in the name of tourism and economic opportunities, they confidently embraced their heritage and roots. And clearly, this freshwater lake and the vital reeds it nurtured continued to be at the heart of that cultural identity.
Unshakeable Heights: While the majority of the Andes buckled under the weight of the brutal Spanish invasion, one Incan site in Peru managed to stay mostly hidden. Theories assume that with the arrival of the Spaniards, the Incas had burned the surrounding forest before abandoning this location, in the hopes that the new vegetation will cover any access trails to this elaborate, treasured site. Located high up on a mountain forest, it wasn’t until the early 20th-century that it became known to the world. Today, it is well recognized as the famed Machu Picchu citadel.
But what got uncovered was not just a piece of cultural history, but a marvel of ancient civil engineering. Situated on top of two tectonic fault lines, this region was quite prone to earthquakes that could cause significant damage to the architecture. Yet, the Incan designs have helped the citadel to withstand such shocks and remain fairly intact. With no major equipment, the builders of that time cut rocks that sat perfectly with each other without needing any mortar to bind. This special design meant that the stones would only ‘dance’ in their spots during tremors and then after, settle back into their original places.
The ingenious techniques practised by the Incas have helped to preserve their unshakeable legacy. And what remains today is a display of their deep understanding and connection to the earth.
Treasured Patchwork: Cascading along Peru’s Cori Pujio mountain slope are 4,500 shimmering white and brown pools, offering a visually stunning view. But these are not ones you would take a dip in. Located at 3,200m above sea level, these are in fact salt mines. Using a clever system to leverage the region’s natural resource of underground salt springs, these shallow pools follow a process that has been perfected and passed down over generations.
Although the Incas continued to oversee the salt production during their rule, the daily upkeep of the pools was part of a communal approach. The control of the pools was divided among the families of the local communities of Maras and Pichingoto, with each family carefully harvesting salt from their respective pools.
This remained as a family practice until 1969 when the Peruvian government created a separate public salt company to assume all operations. And so began the fight back for local ownership. As of 1980, the mines are back to being managed by the local families, as is their opportunity to preserve the traditional salt harvesting methods that had been inherited from their ancestors.
Bull-y Protection: Whether it be against war or drought or even just bad luck, a symbol of protection goes beyond tradition. For many it is deeply spiritual. Elevating the sacred status of the Andean llamas and the alpacas, the Incas of Peru used to bury stone miniatures of these animals on the surrounding hills. Embodying strong Andean spiritualism, these figurines were meant to protect one’s animals and their yield. After all, the llamas and alpaca didn’t just provide meat; they were an indispensable asset to Incan agriculture.
However, as the Spanish barged into the Andes, the llamas and alpacas lost their seat to the European bulls. Taking over the agricultural fields, the bull soon became inseparable from the symbol of fertility. But instead of completely losing their spirituality and beliefs, local households bestowed the protective spirit to the mighty bull. It is now common to see ceramic bull figures all over Peruvian rooftops standing guard to the safety & prosperity of the entire household.
Sacred is this craft of making the Pucara bulls, it’s primarily a tradition that is passed down through generations within families.
Versatility despite Vulnerability – resilience in wildlife
A cold and dry climate with oxygen-deprived high altitude and salt & volcanic mineral-mixed soil is hard to live through. Combining these natural factors with human exploitation is surely not a formula for survivability. Yet, there are a few fauna and flora that have adapted to these harsh conditions. With their gracefulness outlasting sharpness, these animals and plants still call the Andes and the Altiplano their home.
The Warm Woollies: In the highest altitudes of Peru and Bolivia are found one of the most multi-faceted creatures. Considered as god-sent, these are the soft-fleeced alpacas. Their very survival in the wild is dependent on their distinct ability to regulate their body temperatures. Whether faced with freezing climates or hot weather, their thick, silky wool allows them to warm up and cool down as needed.
Although alpacas were the offerors of the ‘Fiber of the Gods’, this status changed once the Spanish conquerors landed in the Andes. Seen as competing with the European-imported sheep for grass, the alpacas instead became the slaughtered meat on the colonizer’s table.
Fearing their complete annihilation, the Incas who were driven out from their land, also took with them some of the remaining alpacas high into the mountains. This was their ticket to survival. Today, they continue to bear a deep cultural and economic significance to the local communities.
The Pink Plumes: The shores of salt-rich lakes in Bolivia are activated with the flamboyance of pinkish-plumed puna flamingos. Though seen in groups, they are in fact quite endangered and rare. Yet, they have managed to survive these salty habitats with the help of their highly specialized physiological features.
Through glands located in their nostrils and behind their eyes, they are able to excrete excess salt and even drink almost-boiling water from the geysers. Although they appear delicate and elegant, they have surely built a tough skin over the years.
The Soft Serves: In the wind-swept, wild plains of the Altiplano and Andes, roam the dainty yet highly-prized vicuñas. Sacred to the Incas, these distant relatives of the llamas were almost driven to extinction by being hunted for their soft and beautiful, reddish coat.
Boasting some of the finest wool in the world, the vicuña’s coat traps layers of heat, keeping the body warm even in sub-zero temperatures. Living in the cold and dry grasslands, their lower teeth are also adapted to cut through the toughest of grasses. Their gradually-recovering population is a sign of a strong will in a small body.
The Winged Wanderers: Gracefully sauntering the high-altitude Puna grasslands of the Andes are the rheas, aptly bearing the name of a mother goddess. However, feeding on cacti and grass with an occasional topping of some creepy-crawlies, its diet is not as regal-sounding.
Despite being flightless, like their distant relatives of ostriches, one should not underestimate their swiftness and agility. Attaining speeds of up to 60km/hour, these birds can strategically navigate the bushy habitats in a zigzag pattern with sudden sharp turns, confusing their predators. Keeping themselves safe being a priority, the rheas also adopt a tactic of flattening themselves under bushes, melding into its surrounding should any threat appear. As flying away from danger is not an option, a rhea’s ability to outsmart its opponent becomes one of its biggest powers to thrive in the wilderness.
The Tuber Tanks: Tracing far back several millennia, the semi-arid elevations of Peru and Bolivia became the birthplace of the king of tubers – the potato. Adapting to the high altitudes, arose a myriad of potatoes that soon became the staple diet of the Incas.
But growing in the cold and dry climates of the Altiplano is not easy. It requires almost every part of the tuber to be ready for battle. The short hairs on the potato plant leaves not only collect water but also insulate the plants against frost. The tubers themselves become storage tanks for water, sugars and starches, which form the very essence of each potato.
The Kernel Keepers: A rainbow of kernels have sprouted in the Andes over hundreds of years. From yellow to purple and black varieties, corn has steadily elevated its way from Incan thrones to global plates. But first, it needed to beat the odds of the harsh Andean climates.
The extreme stressors of the high altitudes forced the production of more anthocyanin pigments in the corn, resulting in the characteristic darker shades. But these pigments are not just colour bearers, they are also vital generators that keep the plants alive in the midst of adversity. Having the seeds stay true to its origins without too much interbreeding, the Andean farmers have kept the kernels resistant to what the environment has in store.
The Cuddled Cushions: The other-worldliness of the dry and cold, high-altitude Puna grasslands feel more alien-like with what seems from afar, green blobs on the ground. Yet, as one approaches them, what lies in front is a dense colony of thousands of tiny plants – the yareta.
Found only in the high altitudes, there is a purposeful design behind the yareta’s peculiar formation. Being tightly cushioned together close to the ground, these plants are able to retain heat and water, and resist powerful winds.
Being highly sought after for its medicinal uses and function as a fuel source, the yareta populations have severely declined due to over-harvesting. Given its very slow growth rate of 1mm per year, the government has had to intervene to allow the colonies to slowly recover. Now more than ever, the yareta plants are highlighting the important value of sticking together to survive.
Perseverance through Pressures – The Andean Resilience
Over millennia, the Andes has taught itself to persevere through some of the most uncompromising stresses and pressures. Pressures that uprooted communities from their homes. Pressures that almost wiped off native wildlife and plantlife from the books. Pressures that erased individual and collective identities. Pressures that in fact challenged one’s very survival. Yet, today the Andes has emerged with a beacon of hope that outlasts generations. That builds on the wisdom and memories from the ancestors. That pushes boundaries of strength and adaptability. That infuses resilience in the very breath of the place.
Travel Tips
Tip for the Open-Minded Traveler
In the place you are visiting, note the various extreme stresses that have threatened the sustenance of local communities, wildlife, landscapes or culture. (E.g. environmental conditions like altitude, earthquakes, volcanoes or events like war, pandemic, recession or other trauma like colonial history etc.).
Tip for the Curious Traveler
Dig deeper into how the extreme socio-economic, political, cultural or environmental stresses have impacted the place you are visiting. (E.g. effect on language, wildlife population numbers, traditional practices, etc.). Explore the strengths and strategies that helped respond to the stresses. (E.g. physical adaptation, creative engineering, collaborative action, etc.).
Tip for the Reflective Traveler
Reflect on how similarly or differently the place you are visiting has responded to extreme socio-economic, political, cultural and environmental stresses compared to the place you are currently living in. Think about whether and how the responses are attributed to the resilience of a place. In what ways can the resilience of a place be celebrated?