Qoyllur Rit'i: In Search of the Lord of the Snow Star

This website documents a photo exhibit by Peruvian photographer Vicente Revilla held at the W.E.B. Du Bois Library at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst during Latino Heritage Month, October 1999. The festival of Señor Qoyllur de Rit'i takes place annually high in the Southern Andes of Peru, 16,000 feet above sea level.

Mr. Revilla made a presentation on October 12, el Día de la Raza, which was co-sponsored by the UMass Amherst Libraries, the Department of Anthropology, and the Center for Latin American, Caribbean and Latino Studies in observance of Latino Heritage Month. The program was coordinated by Isabel Espinal, Outreach Librarian, W.E.B. Du Bois Library.

This online version of the exhibit was created by Priscilla Higuera, John Raible, Isabel Espinal and Jeff Belizaire.

Qoyllur Rit’i: In Search of the Lord of the Snow

Star by Vicente Revilla

excerpts from:

Having lived most of my adult life in the United States, I still keep inside me an imprint of the native Andean landscape. This trip, therefore, was not only a search for the Lord of the SnowStar but a quest to find myself in the mountains…This trip to the mountain was, I hoped, going tobe a better experience for all of us than the one in 1995 when we almost froze to death, or in1998 when our car came close to tumbling off the cliffside…

I simply intended to find the lord ice (photograph it) and perhaps get a better understanding ofmyself in the process. Qoyllur Rit'I is somehow bound up with who I am as a person, with beingfree… My ancestors lived in these mountains for thousands of years. I didn't have to justify mypilgrimage to the mountain.

Ukukos are a kind of pagan priests, semigods who play various roles during the festival-clowns, dancers, comedians, cooks, musicians, singers-even policemen, ifneed be. Ukukos travel to the festivity as part of a group (a nation as they define themselves) or cofradia (a brotherhood)… To disguise their identity and not be recognized, Ukukos always talk in a falsetto voice and cover their face with a mask… In the middle of the night they climb to the top of the glacier to retrieve the ice where they sometimes fall into crevasses and die. It is said that they are also expected to fight the condenados (evil) should they come upon any.

When I turned around I saw entering the cemetery a group (nation) of perhaps thirty people dressed in ritualcostumes and masks, dancing and singing. A young bare-faced woman who was dancing with a special grace seemed to be their leader.

The road out of town is paved until you reach Urcos, a two-hour drive. In Urcos we stopped in the open market for more bread and coca leaves. My friends and rocoto relleno (stuffed peppers) which I reluctantly declined because I did not want to get sick before reaching the mountain. "On the way back I will eat more than any of you,” I said, while taking pictures of the town as well as of my friends eating.

At that moment, a man came down from the mountain with a piece of ice in his hands. He looked European. "May I take your picture?” I said, eyeing the ice he was carrying but too embarrassed to ask him for any. He agreed to let me take his picture, and I asked him in English where he was from. "Europe," he said without being specific about a country.

"Why", I asked, "would someone like yourself want to obtain the ice?" It was indeed a foolish question, questioning this European the way my friends had questioned my own relationship with the mountain.

He gave me a look as if not comprehending my question. How about if he was terminally ill? I thought. How about if the wonders of western medicine couldn't do much for him and the ice was his last medical resource? Of course he had as much right as anybody to carry this mountain god. "This sacred ice means a lot to me... It is the spirit of the mountain that matters, " he yelled as he hurriedly

climbed his way down the mountain.

I took pictures of the people passing by with ice in their hands or on their backs and shoulders… I asked a young woman carrying a small chunk, "Do you think I could have some?" She pointed up at the glacier. "There is plenty of ice up there." "But you see," I said, "I won't be able to make it up to the glacier. I don't feel well enough." She handed me a piece of the sacred ice. "Here," she said. "You know, it is the blood of God."

When I awoke a few hours later, at first the mountain seemed to be in a state of chaos. Thousands of people were on the move. I followed those headed toward the shrine where, according to Christian tradition, the Lord of Qoyllur Rit’i was to be found. As I returned to my tent, I saw far in the distance the Ukukos coming down the mountain in a single file. They were carrying in their backs huge chunks of the sacred ice that would eventually arrive to the city of Cusco.

The next day, June 2nd, was La Entrada de Corpus, the day the sacred ice arrived from the mountain. According to the tradition, most of the statues of the saints are carried in procession to the main cathedral or other churches in Cusco to make them ready for the still greater procession that takes place the next day, the Feast of the Corpus Christi, at the town center. I had to find the Ukukos among the crowds that were getting ready for la entrada de los santos.

Meanwhile, the sacred ice had arrived. As the faithful watched, the saints made their way toward the main cathedral, at which time the Ukukos also arrived with their own sacred burden which they also carried to the cathedral. They and the bearers of the statues danced as one as they passed each other on the streets. Big crowds of people surrounded them. Finally, after several hours of merrymaking the Ukukos laid down their blocks of ice and began chopping them into small pieces with swords. They then proceeded to distribute the ice to the people.

In just a few minutes the sacred ice was gone. Some were left with just a few drops of water on their palms, which they passed on to those who had nothing. Others clasped their dwindling shards of ice as if holding on to a piece of the mountain itself, with all that means to them. The Lord of the Snow Star was vanishing for another year.

Pepo who was all along with me reminded me that it was time to eat and drink. "Let's go have some chiriuchu, he said. Chiriuchu is a typical Andean cold dish that is eaten just once a year, on the Feast of Corpus Christi. "Yes, of course," I said, as we headed toward tables arranged for the occasion in the town center. There they were, Roberto, Edward, Ebert, Edi sitting by a table and waiting for me. It was a very pagan feast we made, eating, drinking, arguing, and watching the procession of the saints. I took pictures of it all, and of course I took one more picture of the mountain in the background before getting ready to head back to that strange land to the north.

The End