Qhapaq Raymi: “Season that gives excellence and greatness of spirit”

The Qhapaq Raymi festivity or cultural event was especially directed toward the male youths, hence being known as an “Empowering Festivity” meant for “the young men between 15 and 21 years of age”. So, in the Qhapaq Raymi they did something called Warachikuy, that consisted of tests of strength for the male youths. On the inner aspect of it, such tests were meant to get to know the innate spiritual qualities of the boys.

In order to celebrate this date, a good psychological-physical cleaning of the house is recommended, as well as one of our own person; a partial or whole fasting is allowed.

On summer’s solstice day, we must do a deeply psychological, introspective meditation in order to evaluate ourselves about our inner and innate capabilities, that grow throughout our lives by a conscious evolutive process known as Wiñay. If it happens that we have neglected this process, then now is the time to acknowledge it again and restart the personal work regarding it.

Passing on,
Emilio Urbay
Musician
Peru

Ayni: "Giving without thinking of getting anything back"



The Ayni is a reciprocity system that has been practised since the pre-Columbian times until today, based on the “give without thinking of getting anything back” principle. It is also the way our people live their lives, inside their cosmic space.

AYNI is a Quechuan word that means solidarity and cooperation. Beyond just a word, it is actually a way of living that originated in the ancient times, and manifests itself in social interactions based on cooperation and reciprocity: the AYNI means to give a helping hand during difficult moments, a help that will be eventually given back in the same measure.

The AYNI as a way of collective work is of the utmost significance in today’s Andean communities, in which it is applied as a survival strategy and a tool for the cultural integration between the indigenous families.

Passing on,

Emilio Urbay

Musician

Peru

Healing power of the Seas

When the harvest is good, we use to carry a large piece of ice. The man carries it on his back and from the snowy mountains takes it to the sea; there, he puts it down, talks to it, thanks the sea for the process and asks for a renewal that prevents the lack of water. This is a millenary tradition in many communities from the Andes.

The first thing given to this world by the god Wiracocha was the sea, from where he came himself. In our cosmovision, that is where all beings are born, the origin of life itself. The sound of nature and seas is healing and mantric, the rhythm of the waves echoes the sound of the cosmos, of the primitiveness of our origin as beings, both human and animal. We are reminded of how little we are by the sound of the sea: endlessly little compared to its greatness, but great in spirit at the same time. Its healing and reflexive power is vital to the harmonizing between the human and the natural. We, Andean men, respectfully call it MAMACOCHA –mother of all waters, in Quechua.

Passing on,
Emilio Urbay
Musician
Peru

The Puff or "Pukuy" and the Wind Instruments



Hi, Emilio
So nice to meet you here, thanks for your note! I like reading about your flutes & music!!
Best wishes,
Pamela
Musician
New York-USA


Dear sister Pamela:

The puff or “pukuy” is of the utmost importance in our towns: the wind or “wayra” blows to bring us to life; it also blows about the sea and the mountains, and when it comes across a reed (and its hollow stem) blows through it making it sound. When the wind blows between the trees, it plays their very leaves: that is music itself, in our opinion. And our respect towards the wind doesn’t just show by playing the antaras, quenas and other wind instruments nicely; it also shows when we blow through the coca and tobacco leaves ourselves, before they are used for any purpose. For that and many other reasons, the act of blowing is a revered one –a communion that unifies all things.

Entertainment, celebration, healing, achieving high levels of conscience, paying our debts to the ceremonial temples (huacas) –and to the sacred Andean mountains or “apus”--, are but some of the reasons why we puff and play.

Some brothers and sisters among us labour the land, so our native plants, such as the potato, the coca plant, the maca, the quinua, stay with us for many more years. Others, like the jampis, protect, cultivate, teach, and heal with entheogenic and medicine plants. And there are still others who raise llamas, alpacas, guanacos, cuyes and other animals.

In my particular case, I am a musician, and my mission is to build instruments and to make music with them, as in many other individual cases they have to work the land or to raise animals. It is my mission in life: not just my vocation, but also, and beyond that, something i was literally born to do –and, if the gods let me, something I will keep doing after I am gone.

I am a builder of quenas and antaras (or pan flutes, as they are called abroad), not only made of reed and bamboo, or mud and clay; i also make them of the feathers and bones of the sea birds, pelicans and condors dead in natural circumstances, and of other animals like the llamas and alpacas, dead of a natural death, too. I thank them, treat them like my brothers, and promise to them I will carry their message now that they are gone. The instruments I build are replicas identical to their Prehispanic models. I produce the very same sounds that were listened to so many thousands of years ago, and bring them to our time. It is difficult to find the precise notes by the tuning of the instruments; for instance, the natural or chromatic scales, which are microtonal. Exactly as it was made in the ancient times, I orchestrate this music out of these instruments, which are so millenary (circa 1500 years ago, at least) that there is no community or town that knows anything about their performance anymore –unlike the quenas, zampoñas or sikus, which are known in the traditions of many of today’s Andean societies.

The message carried by the instruments I build is a kind of link between us and the ancient sounds produced by our ancestors thousands of years ago: a message from wise, healthy people. My work is also about regaining and meeting again our own genetic past, to know and understand that we are human beings carrying a light around the world –or Alpa-mama or Mother Earth--, and the Pacha-mama or cosmos.

Regards and good vibrations...

Emilio
Passing on,
Emilio Urbay
Musician

Kutimuy or Time of Return



Along time ago, I heard in a congress to a Boss of Tribe Dakota or grandfather as we tell men of the Andes: “It is finished the time of the lonely wolf; is time to join the herd”. Our grandfathers always tell us that is the time of the return o “kutimuy” in Quechua (our Native language), because, we are a great family, a single race: The Human Race. The reborn of the humanity is being given; the grandfathers are revealing the knowledge that has been kept for almost 500 years and it is now, it is time to join the Great Light Family, to the brotherhood of the rainbow because, for thousands of years the rainbow is the flag of our Andes towns and we are convinced that brothers and sisters from different places of the planet are arriving at our towns to join the Great Family called “Waijipanikuna” in Quechua language…

Passing on,
Emilio Urbay
Musician

The Life is pronlonged in the Musical Instrument




In our cosmovision, the mountain and sea birds are messenger spirits of the other worlds and we respect them. The sea birds give us peace when they are alive and when they die in natural form, their feathers are used to make pan pipes, where the builder and Musician plays them imitating their and the sounds of the sea. These emit curative waves of the soul and spirit, harmonizing it. In this way, the death is a physical state only, therefore these birds give their message of peace until after dead.

The handmade instruments with birds feathers harmonize the spirit whenever you asking permission to the sea and bird that gave its feathers for the instrument. We respect them. One must ask permission them; this is a millenary custom in our towns…

Passing on,
Emilio Urbay
Musician

Sonqoy Waman: Falcon Heart



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