If my mind does not recall it wrongly and I accurately happen to gather the facts together, here comes my facts recollection of a beautiful and rewarding experience somewhere in Cuzco almost thirty years ago.
It was about midday when our classroom tutor broke into our class and told us all about our final destination. Several destinies had been shuffled, and finally the Inca's city was selected among others for our school prom trip.
The following days were filled with excitement, not much due to the cultural and historic trip we had ahead but with the fact of traveling with my school friends, big bunch of teenagers, to a city pretty well know for its night life.
A few days after our arrival, we visited magnificent Machu Picchu, we learned about Incas and we danced our nights away around the Plaza.
I will never forget such a Saturday night with B52 and our tutor announcing the following Sunday early morning a visit to Pisac, town of Artisans.
Wake up call at six, breakfast at seven, pick up at eight and a hung over for the rest of the day. We were told we would never forget this day, how right they were!
We arrived at around ten o'clock to Pisac, until them we hadn't had any idea of this place.
After snaking a long wavy and dusty road, the bus stopped near a little plaza and opened its doors to the brightest sun. By then we were told stories about gods and goddesses wandering around so as stories of a colonial city built over Incas remains. The city was known for being the principal entrance to the Sacred Valley, the stonework and different scenarios at Pisac's Inca citadel were magnificent. Terraces, water ducts and steps had been cut out from solid rock, and in the highest sector, the main Sun Temple as impressive as Machu Picchu. Above the temple still more ruins and more secrets to be revealed.
We got off the bus and a multicolor plaza welcomed us, full of artisans and smiling faces. Hard to forget when I entered to the old colonial house now atelier of Mamani family.
Even now the scent of natural paints together with mud fills my senses and I vividly remember fondly the place.
Father Mamani explained how Tagua seeds were dried under the Inca sun and then carefully sliced and painted by his wife. She told me these slices give shape to beautiful sets of earrings, simply magnificent.
Their kids toured me around the atelier and I stared at this beautiful necklace, made of beads and seeds, colors beyond any possible explanation.
Then a path opened ahead of me. It was destiny, faith or willingness! This needed to be seen by the world, so much dedication, art and passion couldn't be left aside. That is why Ethniapolis was launched, to show the world what artisans and handcrafters are capable of creating. Just beauty beyond imagination.