There are a few places left on earth it seems that are truly original. Where no cars, or machines, or electricity, or gasoline have ever been. Where the language of the people is shaped by the land and sounds like the whisper of the wind or the gurgle of a brook over stones. Where there is little shouting, when a whistle will do.
Q’ueros, high in the Andes mountains in Peru is this place. After a day of riding on dusty buses and minivans from Cusco and then two days of walking/riding horses over two 17,000 feet, perilous, mountain passes you arrive in a place where the water still runs so clear and clean you can drink from the streams, the silence is profound and the sun falls down in clear cascades of light.
You sit in a valley as the sun is setting. Off in the distance two children are herding the llamas back to their corral. There is no sound. No sound at all. You are cocooned in a silence so still it seems this must be where possibility begins. One of the children begins to sing and dance alone on the hillside with her llamas. The Q'ueros song. And in one clear stroke of feeling you absolutely understand in your very cells that we are The Children of the Sun. That it isn’t just a story, a myth, that there is an Inner sun within us, an Outer sun that we see in the sky, and The Sun behind the Sun, the Creator of it all, but that this is fact. And that we always have been the Children of the Sun. Some of us have just forgotten. We have forgotten the song. But In Q’ueros you remember.
