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.
excerpts from:
Qoyllur Rit’i:
In Search of the Lord of the Snow Star
by Vicente Revilla
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 Snow
Star but a quest to find myself in the mountains…This trip to the mountain was, I hoped, going to
be 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 of
myself in the process. Qoyllur Rit'I is somehow bound up with who I am as a person, with being
free… My ancestors lived in these mountains for thousands of years. I didn't have to justify my
pilgrimage to the mountain.
Ukukos are a kind of pagan
priests, semigods who play
various roles during the festivalclowns, dancers, comedians,
cooks, musicians, singers-even
policemen, if
need 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 ritual
costumes 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