While I have long been aware that many of the buildings in Cusco are built on top of Inca structures, I realized that I have never *really* taken the time to consider the origins of the materials for the colonial buildings that sit atop these Inca remains. The second chapter of Inka Bodies by Carolyn Dean explains that The Cathedral of Cusco was constructed using the stones that were taken, or perhaps more appropriately, stolen from Sacsayhuamán, an Incan citadel that lies just north of where we are now. The implications of a site that was once used to exercise Inca dominance being deconstructed to construct a Catholic cathedral is as heartbreaking as it is fascinating in my opinion. The image of Sacsayhuamán’s ruins in contrast with this perfectly pristine cathedral constructed of the stone from the former sends a message of successful evangelization and evidence of supposed religious (and by extension moral) superiority. The ruins of Sacsayhuamán effectively became symbols of the triumph of Christianity over the Inca religion and proof of the righteousness of the Spanish colonial mission. 

Throughout the Corpus Christi celebration thus far, I’ve been marvelling at how indigenous and catholic traditions have interwoven to create such a vibrant and touching spectacle. In a perfect world where everything is butterflies and rainbows, we could label this an act of cultural appreciation and wipe our hands with the whole thing, but that is not the reality we are living in. To an extent, the inclusion of Indigenous culture within the Corpus Christi celebrations can be seen in much the same way as the remains of sacsayhuamán after being ravaged to construct the cathedral. In the sense that it is, in a way, a symbolic flex of their achievement in converting and controlling the Indigenous population. It’s as if to say “Indigenous tradition is enduring and thriving, but now it is for our god…the correct god”… yknow? The Spanish authorities, in their efforts to consolidate power and evangelize the Andean people, co-opted and repurposed indigenous rituals, embedding them within Christian festivities. I feel like I walk a fine line here in acknowledging the malicious colonial context in which these Indigenous aspects were historically included in corpus christi while also holding an immense appreciation and high level of respect for how these Indigenous traditions have endured throughout everything (though not entirely on their own terms).  The event’s grandeur and the evident pride of the participants are genuinely moving, yet they are inextricably linked to this grim historical context. The culture has survived, yes, but under coercive conditions. This understanding adds an additional, unintended layer of melancholy to the celebration.