Today we enjoy the tourist delights of Arequipa. First is the vast Santa Catalina monastery (actually a convent), which covers a whole city block. It was founded in 1580 and mainly attracted girls from the richest families in Spain (admittance to the convent required considerable dowries). But not all the girls went willingly. Not surprisingly, they were loath to give up their opulent lifestyle for the cloistered life of a nun in Peru (cloistered meaning a simple life cut off from the outside world). Rumor has it, though, that these wealthy Spanish girls bent the rules quite alarmingly, paying to have servants and the less well-off nuns do their chores and purchasing luxury items from the town, including, allegedly, men.
By 1970, however, the convent was falling into disrepair and – unable to support itself – the Catholic church reluctantly embraced a version of glasnost, allowing you and I (for a fee) to poke around the old place. The convent is full of brightly colored plazas, cobblestone alleys, art galleries, places of worship, and period rooms where the nuns lived (and occasionally worked). We eat lunch at the convent cafe, which offers such solemn dishes as the Truth baked potato and the Salad of Diligence. I’m not sure that was enough for me to experience a religious epiphany, but my stomach was certainly very happy for the rest of the day.
Another fantastic attraction in Arequipa is Juanita, the Ice Maiden. She was an Inca Princess who from the time of her birth was scheduled for sacrifice. It’s believed that a huge ceremony was held in the Inca capital of Cusco and the poor girl (and her entourage) were sent to a trouble spot in the empire. In this case Juanita was told to climb the symbolic Mt. Ampato (6,300m / 20,700 feet), near Arequipa. She is known (from an analysis of her stomach contents) to have consumed a large amount of alcohol at the time of her sacrifice so with luck she did not feel the fatal blow to her head (struck by one of her entourage). And there she remained, perfectly preserved in ice for the next 500 years, until nearby Mt. Sabancaya erupted in the mid-1990s melting the snow and ice on Ampato, and exposing her body. Now she sits in her own climate-controlled mausoleum in Arequipa for the entire world to see. Her funerary accoutrements were equally well preserved, including an immaculate embroidered blue woolen shawl that could have been made today. Arequipa is just a darned cool place to spend a few days.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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