WILLOC, THE TOWN THAT SURVIVED THE PASSAGE OF TIME

        

               

There are places in the world that, despite the passage of time, have changed little or almost not at all, places that have managed to survive the test of time…defying the norms of this modern world. I recently decided to revisit this magical little town. I had visited it before the pandemic and only saw its touristy side, the one where tourists are greeted with flower necklaces and the locals tell you about their traditions and explain their ancestral techniques for making their fine textiles—all very beautiful indeed. But this time I wanted a different trip, a more personal, more genuine experience. 

        

Getting to this town isn't too complicated. Once you're in Cusco, simply take any transport to the charming town of Ollantaytambo. From there, you'll catch one of the minivans that depart every hour from near the market. The journey takes approximately 1.5 hours along an unpaved road that winds through small, picturesque villages, diverse fields, and terraces dating back to the Inca era. The hour and a half trip is a feast for the eyes. Suddenly, the driver's voice breaks the tranquility, shouting, "We've arrived! This is the stop!"

 

         

 

Suddenly we find ourselves on a long, dusty street flanked by the town. I notice it has grown; there are more houses, many with their owners' names painted on their facades. Some houses have their doors open. Curiosity compels me to enter and explore the layout of the house, which welcomes us with a lovely garden. I also notice plumes of smoke rising from what must be the kitchen, along with that pleasant smell of woodsmoke, of the countryside, of food... Soon, a young woman with a kind smile and curious eyes emerges from behind some clotheslines of freshly laundered laundry. She welcomes me and invites me inside. I quicken my pace, following her. A black cat watches me from a wall, basking in the morning sun. Once inside, the young woman tells me that her family are artisans and adds, "Without obligation, I'll show you what we sell," with a mischievous smile. 

 

     

 

I decided to explore the upper part of the village, and a small path led me to the local school. The open gate invited me in, and without hesitation, I entered the school, which, luckily for me, was during recess. As in any school, the children were playing volleyball and soccer; others were simply doing nothing and spending their free time sharing experiences or secrets typical of their age. I took some photographs, and after a while, a teacher approached me. He kindly explained, mistaking me for a journalist, that the school had structural problems, and that the situation was exacerbated by the fact that the school had been built in a ravine, which could pose a danger to the students. I listened attentively, sharing his concern and wondering how on earth a school could have been built in such a vulnerable location!

       

 

After stopping by the local medical post and noticing a health campaign for the children of Willoc, I crossed the river to visit the fish farm where I'd been told they prepare delicious trout. Since it was already lunchtime, I looked for the farm, but unfortunately, it was closed. I was able to tour the facilities and see the ponds with trout of all sizes. The largest ones seemed to know my intentions, and regretting not tasting this elusive dish, I left with an empty stomach to wait for the transport that would take me back to Ollantaytambo. While waiting for the minivan, I watched the students leaving the school in their traditional clothing, laughing happily as they headed home. For a moment, I dreamt I was in the time of the Incas, visiting a village from the past, where life was simple and dreams were a blend of magic and reality.

 

       

 Armando el cronista