Apuchin, le chef condor
Venancio Huamani Sueldo
Choquecca, Apurimac, Pérou.
[Ecoutez son histoire ici .mp3]
« Quand j’avais dix ou onze ans, je me souviens avoir appris quelque chose sur l’histoire des condors. Les condors ont un chef, il s’appelle Apuchin. Alors quand les chasseurs préparent le cheval mort pour faire venir les condors, le premier qui a le droit de manger c’est Apuchin, le chef. Tant qu’il n’est pas arrivé près du cheval mort, les autres condors n’ont pas le droit d’y toucher. Ils sont obligés de l’attendre en écoutant sans bouger, avec leurs ailes grandes ouvertes, je ne sais pas pourquoi. Aussi, j’ai appris que les condors sont tout excités devant le cheval mort, comme ivres, ils se battent, se piquent sur la tête et se frottent leurs crêtes. Après vient l’Apuchin, le chef… Il commence par manger les yeux et la langue du cheval mort. Puis lorsqu’il entame la partie arrière, les autres condors le rejoignent pour manger aussi. »
posted by Nicolas Villaume @ 2:36 PM
1 Comments:
Dear Venancio Huamani Sueldo and Lucio Sueldo Huelca,
Thank you for your photos and stories about the Condor that I saw with Nicolas in Paris. I am sorry I do not speak Spanish, maybe someone can tell you my own story... This wonderful bird is very sacred to me too. No other bird knows how to glide so efficiently, its feathers adjusting to be one with the air, climb out on the slightest of thermals and travelling such long distances high over the Andes. I am a pilot of hang gliders (vol libre/delta) for many years and love watching the real experts fly: the raptor birds circling and soaring. Some treasured times I have flown with eagles and kites, joining them in the core of their thermal to climb high, high, high until they leave me behind. Flying free with these birds is the most wonderful privileged experience. Many years of waiting, I wanted to see a condor myself. Finally, waiting for the early morning sun to warm the rocks at the top of Colca canyon in Peru, standing near the holy cross there, my dream came true. These wonderful sacred birds, ugly and awkard on the ground, launched and flew back and forward just above my head as I turned and turned watched them, the tears streaming down my face at the strong emotion of being close to fellow free spirits as they climbed and climbed, vanishing into the blue for their day's journeys. Can you understand my feelings?
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