Human life –Andean human life, in this case—is a series of lessons, from cradle to grave. Life takes us, Andean men, along many roads. Life, we believe, is too short to waste it on negative thinking (envy, bitterness, scarcity of moral values in general); hence, we don’t waste our time on anything like that. However, people with that kind of behavior is going through a phase of self-knowledge development, and even though we regret their misery, we understand it. More important to us is working the land to be fruitful, the land we love as our own mother; and, in my personal case, my job, my mission, is music. We believe in life as a process of transformation, in the benefit of us all (including our neighbours: our brothers); and we also believe that in order to reach a high level of spiritual conscience we must get through the basic phases as much as through the dark ones. This is a wisdom inherited from our granparents, or Yachachis, who were inspired by the Apus and Wamanis (the birds that are the messengers from the gods).
In this regard, and as mentioned lines above, my experience as a musician and also as a human being has led me through times of darkness, needed to know that was not the route to take. Darkness let me know what light was, as it happens to many of our Andean brothers who get to know their true path only after undergoing these experiences.
This school of thought is actually ancient. As an Andean man, it came to me by means of oral, spiritual communication through our parents and grandparents.
As a child, i learned all these things in Quechua, which is my second language: in Supe-Caral from my mother, and in Huanta-Ayacucho from my father –sea people and mountain people, respectively. I learnt how much both aspects need of each other, and so, at that early age, i could see my path; I knew from the beginning of the dark moments I had to overcome, the hard tests life confronts us with, and that they are no punishment from the gods, because we are all good creatures: there is not such thing as a bad person, but a less-good one. As a very little boy, I listened to the call of the sea and its waves, the stones, the insects, and that is how I learnt the craft of music –before I even learnt to play any instrument. Later, still a little boy, while living in Huanta-Ayacucho, I learnt music from the sound of the wind blowing through the mountains, the howling of the fox, the sounds of the paca paca bird, the nocturnal singing of the owls or tucos; as well as from the people, happily singing on their way to work the hoja de coca fields.
Learning is a neverending process. At the present moment I am Emilio Urbay, but later I could become a tree or any kind of animal, because everything breathes life and conveys a message, in our opinion. Today, after a long time of understanding myself, of accepting myself the way I am and getting rid of many unnecessary things, I took the path which I walk on lead by the Apus and gods to promote this music to every brother and sister on earth (alpamama).
When I was a little kid, my uncles and I got lost in a rainy night that blinded us. Suddenly, a big fire burnt my back, or so I felt. My uncles told me, after I woke up and they had brought me back on my feet, a stroke of lightning had hit me and gotten me very scared. Later, they were very concerned about it, because of the Andean belief that you can die from sudden fear. I didn’t know the meaning of a stroke of lightning. Then, a jampi or medicine man came to the house of stones where I was resting, and I saw his bloody hand as he said to my grandfather in Quechua: “You need to give him this to release him from the stroke.” In those moments I still didn’t get it: in the jampi’s hands there was the heart he had taken from inside a falcon; my grandfather put it near my mouth, and, though a bit disgusted, I ate it all. A moment later, they prayed with tabacco and little bells. The next day, I was completely recovered. On the town, the stroke of lightning that couldn’t kill me was news. Many years later, I understood: in our cosmovision, the stroke of lightning or illapa chooses you for a special mission in life, and mine is to make music, to not only cheer up the Andean hearts, but also those of the rest of the world. Since that moment I am also known as SONQOY WAMAN, or Falcon Heart. This story only known by my family and the town people, now I sharing with you.
Emilio Urbay
Musician
Peru
