At the Copacabana – Bolivia

By Alli Sinclair

I’ll admit it, I’m a sucker for pristine lakes with snow-capped peaks. Not only are they a photographer’s and hiker’s paradise, they bring a sense of peace to this chaotic world, especially after visiting some of South America’s busiest cities.

The first time I visited Lake Titicaca, I traveled from the Bolivian side. I’d journeyed from La Paz and was looking forward to finding solace from the horns, pollution, and swarming bodies of a busy city. Being the girly-swat that I am, I’d studied the history of the lake, pored over countless photos (no Internet back then), and created visions of this majestic lake in my mind. I’d imagined a stunning body of water but no matter how fruitful my imagination, I wasn’t prepared for the reality – Lake Titicaca rivaled some of the most beautiful lakes I’d ever seen (and that was saying a lot, especially after hiking through the Indian and Nepalese Himalayas).

Straddling the border of Bolivia and Peru, Lake Titicaca is the highest commercially navigable lake in the world and is rich in history, beauty, and politics. The name Titicaca translates as Puma Rock, a name given by the Incas who believed the lake looked like a puma chasing a rabbit.

Even though Bolivia is a land-locked country, the majority of the country’s naval force is based at Lake Titicaca. The navy employs 2,000 personnel, has a naval school, and they own 173 vessels that patrol large rivers as well as this gorgeous lake. Bolivians believe one day they’ll regain the land they lost to Chile during the War of the Pacific (1879-1884) and this hope is so strong Bolivians celebrate the Dia del Mar (Day of the Sea) every year and ask Chile to give back Bolivia’s lost land. Perhaps one day, they might get a yes.

Copacabana is a village on the shores of the lake and is close to the Peruvian border. Sure, it has a beach, but it isn’t quite in the same realm as Rio’s Copacabana – there are no men or women wearing swimmers that disappear up their bottom, no tanned athletic bodies, and certainly no surf. But this sleepy town has it’s own uniqueness, especially when it comes to dining. I’ve never been a fan of trout but when I tried the fish pulled out from the lake only a couple of hours earlier, I quickly became a convert.

It’s worth staying in Copacabana for at least a couple of days to hike the trails leading to mountaintops that offer unsurpassed views of the lake and Andes, as well as discovering Inca ruins that can only be accessed by foot. And a must-see is the Basilica of Our Lady Copacabana, the patron saint of Bolivia. It’s easy to overdose on beautiful churches in Latin America so if you only intend to visit a handful, put this one up the top of the list.

Framed by bright blue skies, the whitewashed walls of the church make a spectacular entrance into this gorgeous house of God. It is believed the church was built on the Incan Temple of Fertility of Kotakawana, reinforcing Copacabana as a sacred place well before the Spanish arrived.

Legend has it that in 1576 some fishermen were caught in a terrible storm on Lake Titicaca. They prayed for help and the Virgin Mary appeared, leading them to safety. To show their gratitude they built a shrine in her honor. Another story is about Tito Yupanqui, a man who dreamed about the sailors and the appearance of the Virgin Mary. He was so affected by the dream that he travelled to Potosi to learn how to sculpt. He hand-carved the Virgin from cactus wood and carried his creation on his back across the 400 miles from Potosi. The sculpture was placed in the church and it is said that those who didn’t believe in the Virgin’s powers soon experienced crop loss. In the 1800s, another image of the Virgin was created and taken to Brazil’s most famous beach – Copacabana.

If you happen to be in the neighborhood around February 2-5 (it happens every year), stay for the celebrations that attract people from all over the world. The Fiesta de la Virgen de Candelaria has Aymara dancers from the region, plenty of music played by traditional bands, and lots of dancing, drinking, and eating. New vehicles, including trucks adorned with bling, are blessed with beer out the front of the church. On the third day of the fiesta 100 bulls are placed in a stone corral and brave (ie very drunk) revelers jump into the arena and try to avoid being gored.

Luckily, I had enough sense to avoid the bulls, but being included by the locals and dancing the days away is an experience I’ll always treasure. It’s been ten years since my last trip to this beautiful lake and I’m well overdue for another visit. Perhaps 2013 will be the year of returning to my favorite places in the world. I guess I’d better buy that lottery ticket…

Off the Beaten Track: The Lost World of Archangels

This week’s Off the Beaten Track contributor is the wonderful Christina Ashcroft. Christina Ashcroft is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in Western Australia with her husband and three children. She is owned by three cats who graciously allow her the occasional spare moment to write hot paranormal romance for Penguin/Berkley Heat. Christina also writes hot historical romances as Christina Phillips for Berkley Heat and Ellora’s Cave.

Thank you Alli and the lovely ladies here at Novel Adventurers for allowing me to take over your blog today!

There are so many places in the world that I’d love to explore – the Pyramids of Egypt, the Roman Colosseum, the Mayan ruins in the Yucatan Peninsula to name just a few. History has always fascinated me and I get ridiculously excited when archaeologists unearth another long buried secret from ancient times.

I’ve also always been fascinated by the myths and legends of a lost continent. What’s not to love about the idea of an ancient civilization that we know next to nothing about? This fascination was fed more than twenty years ago when I read something that pointed to evidence that the pyramids and Sphinx are thousands of years older than we’ve been led to believe.

But is it just a myth? Is it possible that back in the mists of time there really was a technologically advanced civilization, one that could rival our own today, one that had studied the movement of the heavens for countless generations and possessed an understanding of mathematics that we’ve believed was only relatively recently acquired?

And if such a culturally rich civilization did once exist, what happened to it?

When my awesome editor encouraged me to write a new series about sinfully sexy archangels, I was thrilled. I’d had this Alpha Archangel lurking in the back of my mind for years, being all moody and smokily silent and I was dying to discover his secrets. It took a while, but eventually he opened up enough so I could learn of the world of his wild, untroubled youth.

And I discovered that he had lived and loved millennia ago, when a vast and technologically advanced civilization had flourished.

I was delighted that, at last, I would get the chance to explore this mythical world that had haunted my imagination for so many years. I discovered this advanced civilization was inhabited not only by human scholars and archangels but also gods and goddesses and their numerous offspring. But it was a civilization that, for all their great learning and understanding of the celestial cycle of the heavens, carried a devastating burden.

This world of the Archangel Gabriel, where he met and fell in love with his soul mate, vanished long ago. But to me it’s as real as the world I see when I look outside my window. I guess that might seem strange, but to me it’s perfectly normal. I’ve lived inside my imagination ever since I can remember, and sometimes I must admit it’s hard to leave (As my poor family will attest, I am ace at burning dinner because I forgot I put something in the oven!!)

So while I have yet to visit all the wonderful places in the world that are on my never-ending To Do list, the worlds I explore with the help of my muse keep me on my virtual toes. There’s no knowing where I might end up next, such as a decadent sex club in a dodgy sector of the Sextans Galaxy!!!

Archangel of Mercy is the first book in a new series of fallen Archangels and the women who capture their hearts, coming from Berkley Heat on 4th December.

Destined to fall… destined to love

When Aurora Robinson attempts to open a rift between dimensions to embrace her true heritage, an arrogant Archangel is the only one who can save her from the jaws of hell. And while she owes Gabriel her life, she’s determined not to fall at his feet-despite the desire she feels whenever they’re together.

After his wings were brutally destroyed millennia ago, Gabriel has no compassion for humans like those who ruined him and betrayed the ones he loved. But when he inexplicably finds himself defying ancient protocols to rescue a woman from a fate worse than death, he is shocked by the searing attraction he feels for a mortal.

As the ancient forces that seek to punish Aurora for her actions close in, Gabriel offers the tempting woman protection at his private sanctuary. But as they both succumb to their desires, they discover an even deeper connection-one that threatens to consume them.

You can find Christina and her books at:  Christina Ashcroft’s Website, The Book Depository, Barnes & Noble

Amazon, Twitter, Facebook

And now for the giveaway! I have an e-copy of my erotic paranormal romance, FORETASTE OF FOREVER (w/a Christina Phillips) and some gorgeous Archangel swag to giveaway to one lucky commenter. Just leave a comment or let me know what’s your favourite place in the world (or the universe!) and why?

Triad Gods of The Incas

Wiraqocha

Travelling through the lands where the Incas once lived, it’s hard not to marvel at their craftsmanship when it came to building fortresses and cities out of large blocks of stone. But what has intrigued me most about the Incas is the wonderful myths, legends, and beliefs that powered this captivating civilization.

My last book, Vestige, had a lot of Incan theology in it, and every time I did research, I would come across conflicting versions of gods, descriptions of their appearances, and purpose. Rarely were two descriptions ever the same, and this is to do with the Incas adapting their religion as their world expanded. Once the Spanish arrived, the Incas’ belief that they were the only people in existence had to change, and as a result, their beliefs were challenged. 

The Triad Gods were among the Incas’ most revered and they were worshipped at places like Qoricancha, Cuzco’s main temple. These multi faceted celestial beings had overlapping powers, and even though they were worshipped at the same time, some received more attention than others.

Wiraqocha – The Creator:

Sometimes known as Viracocha, the Incas held this god in the highest esteem. The Incas didn’t make sacrifices or tributes to Wiraqocha, creator of all things, as he had everything he wanted in his possession and needed nothing from men other than their worship. Wiraqocha created the sun and moon, and the people who populated the earth.

When Wiraqocha appeared in human form, he had rays above his head, snakes entwined around his arms, and puma heads projecting from his body. An excellent example of his image is the central figure on the Gate of the Sun at Tiwanaku, in Bolivia.

Inti – The Sun:

The Incas held numerous ceremonies dedicated to Inti, the patron saint of their empire, to ensure the emperor’s welfare as well as encourage bountiful harvests. Every province had land and herds dedicated to the Sun God, and the church had its own storehouses that kept supplies for the priests and priestesses and also for sacrifices.

By 1532, Inti had risen in popularity and by that point, Inti beat all the other gods combined hands down in terms of dedicated worship and monuments. Inca rulers claimed direct genealogical links to the Creator through the Sun, as the Creator fathered Inti, who in turn sired the king.

Inti

Inti was represented in a golden statue, depicting a small boy sitting down. Called Punchao (day), this effigy had solar rays projecting from his head and shoulders, ear spools, a chest plate, and royal headband. Serpents and lions also grew from his body. To the Incas, Punchao bridged the gap between humanity and the sun, and when rulers died, their organs were placed in the hollow stomach of the statue, which they then housed in the main temple and brought out onto the patio during the day before returning indoors at night.

Inti-llapa – The Thunder God:

This god of thunder, lightning, rainbows, and every other meteorological phenomena was depicted as a human man who wielded a war club in one hand and a sling in the other. When the people heard thunder, they believed it was Inti-llapa cracking his sling, and the lightning was a glittering flash off his metal garments as he moved through the heavens. Lightning bolts were the sling stones that he cast, and the Milky Way was the heavenly river from which he drew the rainfall. His image, Chucuylla, was kept in a temple called Pukamarka, in the Chinchaysuyu quarter of Cuzco, which also held an image of the Creator God. When the Incas needed rain, they prayed to Inti-llapa.

The belief system of the Incas is wide and varied, and even though they couldn’t see their gods in the flesh, their faith in their gods’ existence helped grow an expansive and fascinating empire across South America. 

Even though the great Incan civilization disappeared many, many years ago, the monuments they left behind and the writings of the Spanish Chronicles help us to understand what they believed in. Supernatural gods with amazing powers were the norm, and even though the Spanish conquerors tried to convert the Incas to Catholicism, they held on to their supernatural gods to help them through their changing world and challenging times.

Creating a New World

The Sol de Mayo found on the first Argentine coin. Photo by Pruxo

Being the geeky gal that I am, this week’s topic sent me all aflutter. I’ve always been fascinated with legends from around the world, and I don’t think anyone would be astounded if I said some of my favorites are from South America. So much so, I wrote an entire book based around a particular civilization steeped in legend—the Incas.

It’s interesting to see how folklore hundreds of years old can influence today’s culture throughout South America. For example, the Argentine national flag features the Sun of May. Argentina printed the sun on its first coin, but the origins of this image are tied to the Inca Sun God, Inti. And it’s no surprise to see Uruguay, Argentina’s neighbor, has the Sun of May on its national flag also.

The Incas didn’t have a written system as we know it to record their legends. However, they used a Khipu, a bunch of cords, sometimes up to 2,000, that were knotted in a certain way. This complex system was how the Incas recorded information, including legends. Unfortunately, no one has been able to decipher the encoding system yet, so the only history we know is the recounts of the Spanish conquistadors. But of course, the Spanish colonizers wrote these from their point of view.

For me, one of the most appealing Inca legends is how their civilization was created. There are many variations of this story, but they all start at Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world. Standing on the shores, it’s impossible to see the other side, and it really does look like a sea (minus the toothy sharks). It’s no wonder Bolivia, a landlocked country, has its own navy to patrol the very choppy and chilly waters. And it’s from this body of water that Wiraqocha, the Creator God, shaped the race we refer to as the Incas.

Manco Capac and Inti

Back in the time before light existed, Wiraqocha formed a race of people bigger than himself. These giants turned into greedy beings full of pride and made him weep with sadness. Wiraqocha turned some of these disappointing creatures into stone and for those who remained, he summoned a giant flood that killed all but two. He created a new design of being from these leftover giants--humans.

The newly-fashioned creations were called Manco Capac (the son of the Sun God Inti), and Mama Occlo (fertility goddess and mother). These two summoned the sun and the moon, although the sun became jealous of the moon’s brilliance. In an act of jealousy, the sun threw ashes in the moon’s face, causing it to dim, and the waxing and waning moon we now see is a result of this act. If you ever travel to Lake Titicaca, be sure to visit the islands that pay homage to this legend—the islands of the Sun and Moon.

Wiraqocha needed a master plan for his new world, especially after the disaster with the giants, so on the shores of the lake, at a place called Tiwanaku, he carved out his ideas for the nations he wished to create. He sent two of his servants away, one to the coast and one to the mountains, and their job was to call the newly created humans out from rocky outcrops, valleys, lakes, forests and mountains. Along the way, the servants would place these people at the predetermined destinations Wiraqocha had designated for them. And new civilizations would spring up in each spot.

Travelling in the corridor between his servants, Wiraqocha dressed as a beggar and carried a staff and book in his hands. He taught the people the basics of how to survive and what behavior was expected of them, and along the way he worked the odd miracle.

He placed Manco Capac and Mama Occlo, in the place we call Cuzco (and which is also referred to as the Navel of the Incas), and their job was to make sure Cuzco became the capital of the Inca world. Wiraqocha continued on his way north, heading into what is now Ecuador, where he met up with his two servants. Their job of spreading civilization complete, the trio disappeared across the ocean (yes, they walked on it!), with the promise to one day return.

It’s interesting to note the parallels to legends and stories around the world. I can’t work out how this happens, and perhaps no one will ever know, but when I read about a myth like the one Heidi covered yesterday (here), and how similar it is to legends I’ve heard from other nations, it makes me wonder if there’s some sort of telepathic mystical thing going on or if humans have been born with the same imagination, no matter where they live in the world or in what era.

What myths do you know that have similarities between more than one civilization?

Artwork found by archaeologists of Wiraqocha--as he holds thunderbolts in his hands and has tears cascading down his cheeks (to represent rain)—associates him with the sun in his crown.

Russian Animal Fables

Russians tend to humanize their animals rather than mystify them. They give their ursine, vulpine, and feline creatures humanlike characteristics, imbue them with character traits and language abilities. In many tales, man and beasts argue and fight over food, land, or goods. Sometimes they team up against oppressors – human or otherwise. A very popular fable theme typically involves a man catching an animal who begs to be set free on the promise of health, wealth, magical goods, or the gift of a beautiful tsarina to its captor. The story hero pities the creature and lets it go, often not even expecting the pledge to be fulfilled – only to discover that magical things do indeed start to happen to him. Another favorite plot involves man freeing animals from evil spells and turning them back into humans. Somehow, all of those liberated heroes or heroines tend to be of noble origin – princes or princesses, and they immediately fall in love and marry their commoner rescuers.

Animals possess not only very consistent character traits, but often standard genders and names too. They are always referred to as either male or female characters, never an “it.” Bear is big, bulky, and not particular bright. While he is certainly frightening, he can be tricked and bargained with. He is typically named Misha, the Medved (medved means bear) – and yes, that’s the last name of the current president of the Russian Federation – Medvedev. Wolves are dangerous and will gobble up you and your cattle if you don’t ward them off. Luckily, they aren’t very smart and can be fooled. They very often fall victims of foxes’ trickery – the sly cunning Lisaveta wraps Volk around her claw with smiles, flattery, and empty promises. Worse, she often gets him into trouble while slipping away with booty he helped her to steal. Hare, or Zaika, is quick, sometimes cowardly, yet he possesses a certain dignity and is willing to help. Rooster Peter the Petukh is boastful, sometimes narcissistic, and overly self assured, which often gets him in trouble: all Lisaveta has to do is to sing praises to his gorgeous voice and elegant tail, and he is more than willing to fly into her wide open paws. Swan is usually beautiful and, if handled properly, can metamorphose into a single and available tsarina. Whether the hero is Ivan the Fool or Ivan the Tsarevich, they both have to do some slaying of the evil – and that’s where Hare, Duck, and Fish come to help. Actually fish – sometimes Golden Fish, sometimes Tschuka – has been known to magically fulfill her captors’ every wish no matter how ridiculous, in exchange for not being turned into a soup.

Interestingly enough, the talking animals in the tales behave as real animals – carnivorous animals (and humans) still eat meat, even when the meat in question can talk. “I’m gonna eat you,” Wolf says to Hare, who usually yaps long enough to talk his way out. Man bargains with Misha, the Medved, “Don’t hurt me – I’ll give you the top half of my harvest” – and hands the beast the turnip leaves while keeping the roots for himself.

Just about every animal’s personality is beautifully revealed in the famous folk tale Teremok, which doesn’t exactly translate as House, but rather a special kind of a fancy building akin to a palace. Discovering the big comfortable space, various animals move in one by one, forming a happy co-op menagerie until one day there comes a troublemaker who can’t play by the rules, ruins the peace and destroys the edifice.

So, tell me, which animals are part of your national folklore, and what adventures do they bring to your people?

No Monkeying Around

Hanuman Statue in Trinidad and Tobago
(Photo by Kevin Rajeev Persad)

 Over the ages, Hindus have interpreted and explained complicated divine forces through a vast, colorful array of forms, probably none more so than Hanuman, a flying warrior monkey-god with followers even today.

Hanuman’s most notable role takes place in the religious and literary epic, Ramayana, which scholars believe the poet Valmiki wrote around 450 B.C. In it, Prince Rama’s wife, Sita, is kidnapped and held captive for 14 years by the multi-headed demon, Ravana, from Ceylon (modern-day Sri Lanka). While Rama and his brother go searching for Sita, it’s Hanuman, Rama’s trusted bodyguard and devoted servant, who discovers where Sita’s been taken and goes to rescue her. Sita ultimately refuses his help, insisting only her husband can come avenge the insult on her honor, so Hanuman has to go back and notify Rama. Before he does, he wreaks havoc on the tiny island, thus beginning a long and ugly war between the two sides.

A dancer's mask of Hanuman
in Thailand (Photo by Saerin)



There are numerous stories about his origin, but Hanuman’s generally considered an incarnation of Shiva, the god of destruction. He’s the lord of the planet Mars, and is said to control the planets with just his tail. In popular retellings, he’s often depicted looking like a muscular nobleman, wearing a round, gold crown. He may be shown holding his palms together, to indicate his selfless devotion to Rama, who’s believed to be an incarnation of a god himself, or carrying an umbrella or a heavy club. Often, he’s portrayed flying to and from Ceylon or else taking on a giant form and stepping across the ocean to reach the little island. In another depiction, he’s shown as having five heads and ten arms, a form he supposedly took on at one point during the war so as to kill a particular rakshasa, a demon who practiced a kind of black magic. 

Hanuman is still a huge iconic figure in Indian culture and folklore. Believers pray to him for strength as well as modesty. There are large statues of him all across India as well as other countries where the Ramayana is well known, including Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia. One statue in Trinidad and Tobago is said to be the largest outside of Asia, at around 24 feet high and 12 feet wide. Within India, there are plenty of them triple that size. Numerous Hanuman temples abound, especially in North India, where he may be the most revered.  

The Hanuman Dhoka in Kathmandu, Nepal, is the entrance gate
that protects a 16^th century palace complex from the Shah
dynasty. (Photo by Manjariz)

Across India, it’s a common sight to see monkeys lingering along the walkways that lead to temple entrances. I’m not sure how they get there, but their presence has always made me more than a little nervous. These are wild monkeys, sometimes cute and gentle but also often hungry and a little unnerved by humans. Temple-goers try not to bother them though. These monkeys are supposedly there to ward off evil forces and serve the gods, just as Hanuman himself would do.

Telling It Like It Was

Photo by D.Hatcher

Ever since I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with myths, especially ones involving animals. Many cultures, both ancient and present-day, use animals in their story-telling to either get a message across or help explain the way their world works. Kids, especially, seem drawn to these tales. 

As a young girl, I would spend hours in the library poring over picture books, and later, archaeology tomes that delved into mythology from around the world. So when I sat down to write Vestige, it came as no surprise I wanted to weave in some Incan legends, including ones that contained animals. I could bore you stupid with the folklore I’ve studied, but I promise I won’t and will limit this post to two—one myth from Central America and the other from the Andes. Well, maybe I’ll squeeze in a quick one to make it three—let’s briefly go to Brazil as well.

Central America:

In Mesoamerican legends, the resplendent quetzal is a bird associated with the snake god of creation and wind, Qutzalcoatl (try saying that ten times in a row). The Mayans and Aztecs believed the bird represented goodness and light and the rulers of these civilizations wore head dresses with the feathers from the quetzal. By donning this bird’s feathers, they felt a connection with the god Qutzalcoatl. The bird was so revered, it was forbidden to kill it, so the lackeys would capture and pluck its feathers then set it free. 

The quetzal was thought to be unable to survive in captivity, so it came to represent liberty for those in Mexico, Guatemala, Costa Rica, and El Salvador. Until twenty years ago no one had been able to keep the species alive or breed it in captivity. In the past, whenever a quetzal was captured and put in a cage, it would somehow kill itself through starvation or ramming against the enclosure. But a zoo in Mexico has been able to breed the species on a continual basis since 1992.

In Guatemala, the bird has been associated with the warrior prince Tecún Umán of the Quiché Maya. This bird was the prince’s nahaul (spirit guide). Legend has it that one day, the Spanish Conquistador, Pedro de Alvarado, rode in on horseback, and, Tecún Umán, who was on foot. When Alvarado delivered a spear to Tecún Umán’s chest, a quetzal landed on the spot from where the warrior prince bled and dipped its chest feathers into his blood. The Mayans believe this is how the quetzal received its distinctive red chest feathers.

Another legend tied to the Spaniards is that prior to its arrival in Central America, the quetzal had a beautiful singing voice. But at the time of the Spanish conquest, it fell silent. Many Central Americans believe that one day the quetzal will find its voice, but only when their land is truly free. 

Photo by Rick Swarts

The Andes:

The Aymara- and Quechua-speaking people of Bolivia and Peru believe that there were once two, superimposed worlds. The lower world had countless herds of healthy, long-haired alpacas that belonged to the mountain god Apu and were tended by his daughter. The upper world contained alpacas of inferior quality.

Apu’s daughter had problems protecting his precious alpacas from predators, so Apu arranged for her to marry a young herdsman from the upper world. For a while, their union was successful, but the herdsman grew homesick and so the daughter and her husband decided to take their healthy flock to the upper world. Apu agreed but only under the condition that the daughter and her husband take special care of his precious herds, especially his prized possession—a particular baby alpaca. They started their journey, travelling alongside springs and lakes. The baby always wanted to be carried but the husband became lazy, and one day he dropped it to the ground and left it to fend for itself. Apu’s daughter became frightened and ran to the nearest spring, diving in and swimming back to the lower world. Many alpacas tried to follow her, but the herdsman prevented them from doing so. Ever since, the alpacas of the upper world have stayed near lakes and springs, waiting for their mistress who has yet to return.

Brazil:

The Cobra Encantada is a beautiful woman who turns into a vicious snake to guard an immense treasure. Whoever can break the spell will have the gold and marry the maiden. I’m not so sure Disney will like this one for the next movie--it might freak out the little kids.

For thousands of years, humans and animals have been connected. There’s no wonder we want to include animals in our folklore also. Take a look at the advertisements for kid’s products or the popularity of shows such as the Care Bears (showing my age, now) or Big Bird on Sesame Street. Animals are used in many forms to gain attention, especially from the little people, and deliver a message. The wheel, penicillin, and technology may have changed the way we do some things, but others have remained the same—we still use animals in our story-telling.

Wings of Wisdom

In a land far, far away and in a time before time, the Tree of Wisdom grew beside a vast sea at the center of the world, and the seeds of every plant fell upon its branches. At the top of this tree lived a magical bird with the body of a peacock, the claws of a lion, and the head of a dog. Her name was Simorgh, and she possessed the wisdom of the ages. Every time Simorgh took flight, a thousand new branches sprouted from her tree, and when she returned to her nest, a thousand more branches broke, scattering seeds throughout the world.

Simorgh (also spelled Simurgh) is the mythical bird of Persian legend, and she first appears in ancient Zoroastrian texts. Her feathers are the color of copper and, in some stories, she is the size of thirty birds. Simorgh is so old she has seen the world destroyed three times, and after each catastrophe, she emerges stronger and wiser than before. It is said that after 1,700 years, she will rise from the ashes like the phoenix.

Most Iranians today know Simorgh from the Shahnameh (Book of Kings), the epic poem by the eleventh century Persian poet, Ferdowsi, who tells the mythical and actual history of Persia from the creation of the world until the Arab conquest of Iran in the 7th century A.D.

In the Shahnameh, Simorgh’s tale begins when Zaal is born to King Saam of Sistan. Because Zaal is albino, Saam fears the baby boy has been cursed by demons and abandons him in the wilderness. In Ferdowsi’s version of the story, the Tree of Wisdom grows high in the Alborz Mountains, and Simorgh swoops down to rescue the infant. She bears him away to her nest and raises him to manhood. When the time comes for Zaal to rejoin humanity, she sends him away with a feather from her back.

“If you ever need me,” she says, “burn this feather and I will come.”

Years later, when Zaal’s wife, Rudabeh, is dying in childbirth, her husband remembers Simorgh’s words and burns the feather. The mythical bird arrives and gives Zaal yet another feather, this one with medicinal properties, which he uses to save both mother and child. The boy grows up to be Rostam, the central figure in the Shahnameh. As an adult, Rostam embarks on his own adventures as the greatest of all Persian warriors, and Simorgh appears again with more sage advice and a personal choice: Rostam can accept defeat at the hands of his nemesis, Prince Esfandiar, or kill this enemy and live the rest of his life in sorrow. Being a proud warrior, Rostam chooses the latter.

Simorgh captured my imagination the first time I read about her legend in the Shahnameh. The love intrigues, battles, and tragedies recounted in the epic poem are absorbing, but who can resist a talking, magical bird who looks ferocious enough to tear flesh from bone yet has wisdom, compassion, and the skill of a healer?

Apparently, I am not alone in my fascination with this mythical creature, for Simorgh’s image appears often in Iranian art and culture. She has even lent her name to a band whose music is a fusion of Persian classical, rock, and rap. They performed in the movie, Prince of Persia, and have a Facebook page. Although the group disbanded last year, their special blend of tradition and modernity lives on in the London-based group, Ajam. It’s almost as though Simorgh has risen from the ashes.

Crossing the Line

The Cessna putters along the stony runway, strong wind gusts pushing the tail off course. Just when I think the pilot will abandon the take-off, he guns the engine. I suck in my breath and grab the sides of the cracked leather seat I’m sitting on. With eyes squeezed shut, the flying tin can shudders beneath my feet and finally builds to a quaking crescendo. When we’re airborne, I pry one eye open and figure if I’m going to die, then it might as well be with a bird’s eye view of one of the ancient world’s unsolved mysteries-the Nazca Lines in Peru.

Luckily, the plane steadied and I made the journey safely, but I’d already forgotten my fear of dropping out of the sky like bird doo-doo once I got my first glimpse of the mysterious lines that can only be seen from the sky. Listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, the Nazca lines are situated on an arid plateau 250 miles (400km) south of Lima and date back to between 400 and 650 AD. There are hundreds of geometric shapes, which include drawings of hummingbirds, spiders, monkeys, fish, sharks, and llamas.

No one knows for sure who made the shallow lines, but scientists agree the lines were made by removing the red rocks on the surface of the earth to expose white rocks beneath. From the ground, these lines appear to be a mish-mash with no apparent rhyme or reason. But from the air, these odd patterns take on a totally different meaning. The two most well-known lines are the 295 feet (90m) high monkey an extravagantly curving tail and a condor with a 426 feet (130m) wingspan.

Discovered in 1927 by passengers on a commercial flight taking a new route, the Nazca Lines have baffled anthropologists, archaeologists, and ethnologists, as well as lay men. Many have tried to discover the who the creators are for what reason the lines exist, but to date, but to date, no one has any concrete answers. Here are just a few of the theories that have been put forward:

Maria Reiche, a German mathematician, spent her life studying the lines and claimed the indigenous people of Nazca created them as a way of communicating with their gods in the sky and also as an astronomical calendar for agriculture.

In the 1970’s, American Jim Woodman tested out his theory that the creators of the lines used balloons made of fine Peruvian cotton and reed baskets. He asked the Aymara Indians to make a hot air balloon that could have been used by the Nazca people from that time period. From the sky, he could see the lines clearly but without using technology, he couldn’t signal those on the ground as to where to move the rocks. His theory literally blew sky high when the balloon caught fire and the two pilots made a narrow escape.  

Swiss author Erich von Däniken held a theory that a long time ago, aliens visited earth. After the aliens disappeared the Nazca people made the lines in the hope they would get the message and return. Many people like to poo-poo this theory, but those who believe it will very quickly point out the spaceman figure on a hill near the main lines.

Anthropologist William H. Isbell believes the kings of Nazca ordered the people to make these lines because if the commoners were working, then they couldn’t procreate. And if they couldn’t procreate then their inadequate stores of food would become strong enough to sustain a limited population. 

Anthropologists Markus Reindel and David Johnson believe the lines are markers for subterranean water. The figures show the water stream, and zigzag lines show where they end. American Professor of Anthropology, Anthony Aveni has a similar belief but adds that the lines are connected with calendar, water, and mountain deities. It’s with this belief, he feels the Nazca people celebrated a water cult and used the figures and lines for ceremonial dances.

John D. Miller analyzes ancient buildings worldwide and has discovered they often hold a value of 177 feet. He bases his theories on several holy numbers and units of measurement and believes the Nazca Lines fit within the 177 feet model. 

The Code of Carl Munck believes ancient sites around the world are precise positions on a global, coordinated system in relation to the position of the Great Pyramid of Giza. An ancient system called Gematria or Gematrian numbers are found in ancient myths and religions, including the Bible, and according to Gematria experts, the Nazca Lines fall neatly into this patterning.

Phew! And this is just a short list of theories. It’s very easy to Google to your heart’s desire to find out more. For me, floating with the birds, staring wide-eyed at the lines below, wondering who, why, and how, was an experience I’ll never forget. Maybe one day, we’ll find discover the real reason behind the Nazca Lines, but for now, I’m happy to analyze the theories and come to my own conclusion. And in case you’re wondering, I did kiss the ground when we landed.