The Little Old Man of the Andes

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PAUL GREEN "The Little Old Man Of The Andes" We first met the "little old man", as shambling towards us with a plate in we came to call him, as we passed his hands. As he approached his walk through the little village of Totora in amused us, Allen likened it to Charlie the upper Rio Santa Teresa. The Chaplin, but this seemed even more unothers had left a few days before to steady and unco-ordinated. We travel home leaving Paul, Allen and I to see him fall over any time expected but he to have a last wander round the Puma- didn't and the enamel plate with its sillo group: We started the trip from pile of potatoes, boiled in their jackets, the township of Santa Teresa and drag- reached us safely. ged ourselves up the valley of that name We rose, shook his hand and thanked through the steamy hot jungle. him for the potatoes. He spoke very We reached Totora, on the bush line, rapidly in a mixture of Spanish and a couple of days later at lunchtime and Quechua which we found hard to understopped beside a creek to eat. As we stand but we explained that we spoke had passed the last house we saw the little Spanish, where we had come from "little old man" standing outside with and that we were bound for Yanama. his wife sitting beside him. They waved He left us then after more unintelligible and we returned the gesture. gabble and stumbled back to the house. About 50 yards beyond their house we We demolished the potatoes. stopped and had hardly dropped our We estimated his age at 60 to 70 with packs before the "little old man" came an appropriately wrinkled face. He was thin and could not have been much over ing with him and found we had to 5 feet tall, we all towered over him. His pigeon step so as not to get too far clothes were by far the most ragged we in front. We guessed from this that saw, they looked like they had been he must have been on the move conthrough a motor mower. tinuously since early morning to cover A few minutes later he stumbled back the distance with cocoa to deaden the to us, this time with a plate of potato hell of it. soup. Amazingly he didn't spill a drop. Wel left him behind eventually when he To save him the bother of two further stopped to talk to another Indian and trips we went to the house with him. we went on another couple of miles to There we found his equally little old the small scattered village of Yanama. wife stirring a pot on the fire. Her face There we camped for the night and as had as many wrinkles as a prune. it began to get dark the "little old man" They were obviously very poor, the passed with a wave, and still stumbling. interior of the dingey house being almost We woke next morning at about 6.00 bare and we felt a little guilty of eating and looked out of the tent just in time so much of their food. They gave us to see the "little old man" two helpings of soup. each. Both of them over the rise as he headed vanishing talked to us but we had a lot of trouble Obviously he was going home up and valley. that understanding and the old lady cackled was the last we would see of him. a high pitched laugh. We left shortly That day we went on to Paccha, a giving them a milk tin and a few plastic thriving metropolis of two houses close bags in return. A few minutes further to the southern flanks of Pumasillo. We up the valley, out of sight of the camped near these and next day decided houses, we brewed up and ate our own on a rest. All we did was to take a lunch-spud soup isn't enough to tramp wander up the valley for a look at on! Pumasillo from this side and what we Later that day we reached the head saw impressed us-it is a mighty mounof the valley and camped below Yanama tain. A cloudless day made it perfect. pass which we would cross next day. It The following day we continued our was much colder here and we felt more journey across Forty Minute Valley (it comfortable. took us 50 minutes) into the Rio Tiioc Next day we plodded up to the pass where we lost the track. We spent a at about 15,500 ft., a rise of 10.000 ft. lot of time plodding and down the from our starting point. On the way valley side looking for R and eventually up we had been fortunate to see about reached a deserted house high on the ten condors gliding and wheeling from slopes just on dark. The reason for its some bluffs. Magnificent birds that abandonment we soon found-no water, came to within 50 ft. to inspect us, we but we managed, after a search, to find hoped they didn't consider humans good a puddle that would do. We slept on condor kai. A cold breeze discouraged the verandah. us from hanging round so we dropped Next morning we woke at down and down the steep zig zags of the track from lav in our pits while Paul prepared the pass and stopped for lunch, a 1,000 ft. breakfast- porridge again-yeech!! Then lower, by a small creek. Allen said, "Did you hear that?". As we ate a couple of mule trains "No. What was it?" passed going uphill then we noticed "Sounded like somebody." someone coming down. It turned out "Can't be." to be the "Tittle old man", we were "There's somebody coming up the surprised to say the least. He passed track." about 50 yards away taking a shortcut "It's the 'little old man'." between zig zags and we waved to each "No it's not. Can'tb be.' other. "Hell, it is!!' We finished our lunch and continued Utter astonishment. There he was, downhill into the main valley passing a shambling up the track, with a little few potato patches and cattle. An hour piglet tied to a horse hair rope lead or. so later we caught up with the "little and squealing blue murder. old man" while he sat beside the track We hurriedly rose to greet him with trying to repair a broken car tyre type the traditional handshake and he broke sandal. He was having little success into torrents of incomprehensible words. so we did it for him. In his cheek We couldnt make where he had come he had a big wad of cocoa leaves from or how he had got there although packed that stained his teeth a mossy he was obviously heading home. There green and he seemed slightly hepped on was only one route into the valley as it. We continued along the track walk- far as we knew and he hadn't passed us.

Whatever he had done in the last three the blessings of the gods on me. Tears days was certainly remarkable. But why stood in his eyes and this gabble conthe piglet? There are hundreds of tinued for over a minute with hands them all over the place so why come outstretched to the sky. this far? However, we got no answers A few minutes later he continued on to our questions, of course, and are still his way up the track, the piglet still wondering about it. squealing, and the singlet tucked under The state of his clothing had nor his arm. We packed up and plodded improved so I gave him one of my lons away feeling very unfit now and wondersleeved woollen singlets. I had worn ing if cocoa was the clues for tramping. this continually for three months so it Our trip was completed in a few days was not exactly an example of good and we considered putting ourselves out hygiene. However, the reaction was as- to pasture after meeting that "little old tounding, though we couldn't understand man" who was probably capable of an a word he was obviously calling down "SK". MAC