Dangling over a vertiginous gorge, the Apurimac River flowing around 10 stories below, Indigenous Peruvians show no fear as they repair a centuries-old Inca rope suspension bridge — the world’s last.
Every June, members of the Quechua Indigenous group come together to braid thick ropes made from a type of Andean straw, then brave the chasm without harnesses to replace worn parts of the Q’eswachaka bridge.
It is a ritual that connects communities to one another but also to their ancestors, according to Quechua belief.
Photo: AFP
“It is a matter of pride for us to (renovate) this bridge,” said 34-year-old student Braulio Huilca of his role in the annual rite.
Inscribed on UNESCO’s list of Intangible Cultural Heritage 10 years ago, the bridge has become a key tourist attraction and source of income in the Peruvian region of Cusco — also home to the Inca citadel of Machu Picchu.
“If we abandon this, the tradition would be lost, and there would... be no income,” said Felipe Hanampa Huamani, 40.
JEALOUS MERMAIDS
The bridge, made of fibers obtained from q’oya, a straw-like plant, was first built about 600 years ago.
Nearly 30 meters long and 1.2 meters wide, it hangs over a gorge around 28 meters deep.
For several weeks every year, residents of four towns in the province of Canas gather and prepare straw for rope-making.
With sickles, women in multi-colored skirts cut the q’oya and gather it in bundles that are soaked in a well and then crushed with stone.
They then braid the ropes, sitting in groups on the side of a dusty road.
Within hours, they have made thick ropes that men carry on their shoulders along winding paths and steep steps up to the bridge.
“If we don’t renew it, (god) punishes us. We could have an accident or something could happen to us,” said 54-year-old Emperatriz Arizapana Huayhua, a small-scale farmer in the region involved in rope production.
Crucial in the initial phases of the operation, women are not allowed to take part in the final steps: according to local beliefs, the mermaids of the river are jealous.
ANIMAL SACRIFICE
To guarantee that “no accident happens during the reconstruction,” a shaman sacrifices a lamb to the gods as part of the ritual.
As men in chullos — colorful woollen caps with earmuffs — tear down the old structure, worn and blackened braids plummet into the Apurimac river.
The hanging bridge has several thick ropes that serve as a platform, with two more for holding on either side.
The replacement of the old ropes takes three days. Some of the workers chew coca leaves for energy.
There is a narrow metal bridge next to the rope structure that communities also use for trade and transport.
The work is finished when the two groups working from either side of the gorge meet in the middle.
Cries of “Haylly Q’eswachaka!” are heard in Quechua, signaling that the time has come for the celebratory festival.
Next year, they will do it all over again.
April 28 to May 4 During the Japanese colonial era, a city’s “first” high school typically served Japanese students, while Taiwanese attended the “second” high school. Only in Taichung was this reversed. That’s because when Taichung First High School opened its doors on May 1, 1915 to serve Taiwanese students who were previously barred from secondary education, it was the only high school in town. Former principal Hideo Azukisawa threatened to quit when the government in 1922 attempted to transfer the “first” designation to a new local high school for Japanese students, leading to this unusual situation. Prior to the Taichung First
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
The Ministry of Education last month proposed a nationwide ban on mobile devices in schools, aiming to curb concerns over student phone addiction. Under the revised regulation, which will take effect in August, teachers and schools will be required to collect mobile devices — including phones, laptops and wearables devices — for safekeeping during school hours, unless they are being used for educational purposes. For Chang Fong-ching (張鳳琴), the ban will have a positive impact. “It’s a good move,” says the professor in the department of
Toward the outside edge of Taichung City, in Wufeng District (霧峰去), sits a sprawling collection of single-story buildings with tiled roofs belonging to the Wufeng Lin (霧峰林家) family, who rose to prominence through success in military, commercial, and artistic endeavors in the 19th century. Most of these buildings have brick walls and tiled roofs in the traditional reddish-brown color, but in the middle is one incongruous property with bright white walls and a black tiled roof: Yipu Garden (頤圃). Purists may scoff at the Japanese-style exterior and its radical departure from the Fujianese architectural style of the surrounding buildings. However, the property