Jorge's Gold

A thick ribbon of gray smoke rose behind the house. Aunt Paola crouched next to the fire pit, fanning a fire with the tail of her dress.
A small pyramid of dirt sat alongside the fire pit. Between the dirt and the fire, Aunt Paola had set a covered dish. As the girls neared, she uncovered the dish, exposing raw chicken and lamb.
“Please help me wrap the meat,” she asked.
“What are you making?” asked Teresa.
“It looks like Pachamanca,” replied Lina, “are we having special visitors?”
“I suppose we could consider our nieces special, don’t you think so, Jorge?”
“I definitely do.”
“What is Pachamanca?” asked Teresa.
“Pachamanca is a buffet cooked under the ground. The Incas used to gather for celebrations, making a fire pit and loading it with fresh meat, vegetables, and tamales.”
“Why not cook it in the fireplace?”
“In a fire pit, food is slow-cooked, keeping the meat moist and tender.”
Aunt Paola had spent quite a part of the morning cooking. She began by digging a trench and lining it with stones. She placed wood atop the stones and lit it, making a fire. Now the embers glowed bright orange.
Now it was time to add the ingredients. A pile of guava leaves sat next to the fire pit. Aunt Paola wrapped pieces of chicken and lamb with the leaves. She carefully placed each piece in the fire. Everyone joined in,
Aunt Paola fetched the vegetables and the tamales from the kitchen and added them to the fire pit. After she finished, Uncle Jorge moved the dirt into the pit, making a new dirt mound. Now, everyone was gathered around the dirt mound, ready to eat.
“When will it be ready?” asked Teresa.
“About one hour.” replied Aunt Paola.
Uncle Jorge grabbed a chair and sat by the dirt mound. As everyone waited, Teresa spotted another pile next to the house. This one contained gold nuggets of all shapes and sizes. Teresa went over to the gold pile to investigate.
Tiny gold flecks glistened in the sunlight. Teresa grabbed a piece and rolled it in her hand. Lina and her Uncle watched from their seats.
“Do you know what that is?” asked Uncle Jorge.
“It looks like real gold,” replied Teresa.
“It is real gold,” said Uncle Jorge.
“Really?” gasped Teresa.
“Oh Jorge,” sighed Aunt Paola, “quit teasing her.”
Teresa looked at the stone, and then over to Uncle Jorge, who grinned slyly.
“Uncle Jorge, what is it, really?”
“It’s gold, I tell you.”
“Don’t let him bother you,” interrupted Aunt Paola, “It’s called fool’s gold. It’s a mineral that just looks like gold.”
“If you bring me a stone, I’ll show you a trick.”
Teresa walked over to her Uncle with a stone. He placed it on the ground and then grabbed a shovel. He held the shovel near the stone, waving it gently back and forth. The stone wobbled a bit, then stuck to the shovel. Teresa gasped and everyone else had a good laugh.
“How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything. Fool’s gold is nature’s own magnet. That’s one of the first ways you can tell real gold from fool’s gold.”
“Is that why you have it piled behind the house?”
“To use as a magnet? Heavens, no! When the boys were little, I used to hide the gold in the pasture. The boys would pretend to be Incas hunting for gold.”
“Did Incas really hunt for gold?”
“They sure did. One of the richest parts of our heritage is the Incas and their quest for gold.”
“How about we take turns hiding the gold?” said Teresa.
“I’m sorry but I’m tired,” said Uncle Jorge.
“I’ll hide the gold and you can find it,” said Lina.
“I think I should hide it first. I suggested it,” said Teresa.
“Okay, we’ll take turns. You can hide the gold first.”
Lina tucked her head in the hollow of her elbow, covering her eyes. Teresa picked up the fool’s gold and tucked it into every hiding place she could find.
“No peeking!” she called out.
“I’m not!”
After Teresa finished, it was Lina’s turn. She ran to the barn and uncovered two rocks buried in the hay. Just as quickly as she found the first two pieces of gold, she could not find another piece. In a short while, she returned to the fire pit and sat beside Uncle Jorge.
“You can’t give up.”
“I looked everywhere.”
“You must not have looked everywhere. You only have two pieces.”
“Teresa, I’m tired, too. I just want to sit and wait for lunch.”
Teresa ran through the pasture, rediscovering her gold. She returned the gold nuggets to their original home and sat down next to the fire.
“The food should be ready,” announced Uncle Jorge.
Uncle Jorge rose from his chair and grabbed a shovel. He carefully moved the dirt aside. Large stones covered the food inside the pit.
“Teresa, grab a shovel and help me lift these stones out of the fire pit.”
Teresa grabbed the shovel and moved closer to the fire.
“Be careful, dear,” urged Aunt Paola.
“I will.”
“When I place my shovel under a stone, I need you to place the shovel on the other side and gently roll it onto my shovel.”
The shovel scratched against the hot stone as Teresa dug the blade into the fire pit. She gently pushed the stone onto Uncle Jorge’s shovel. He lifted the hot stone out of the pit, placing it in the dirt. They continued until most of the reddest stones had been safely removed from the fire.
He knelt down, plucking the leaf-covered meat from the fire one piece at a time. As he pulled each fire-blackened potato from the fire, he juggled it from hand to hand to avoid getting burnt.
Aunt Paola knelt down beside Jorge, plucking hot tamales from the fire pit. They were also covered in charcoal. Some had even caught fire and had to be put out by Uncle Jorge.
After a short prayer, Aunt Paola handed out the tamales. Everyone sat around the fire and ate. Teresa got sand in her mouth with her first bite. She wiped the tamale briskly with her fingers, cleaning off dirt and ash. Uncle Jorge carefully peeled the leafy wrapper off a piece of chicken, eating it out of his hand.
“Sitting here with my nieces and looking over the valley. I am constantly reminded of my Inca heritage.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Teresa.
“Centuries ago, I imagine the Inca gathered by the Pachamanca pit, eating food and celebrating togetherness. At the greatest reach of their kingdom, the Incas of Cusco had tribes from Ecuador to Argentina. It must have been a grand time.”
“Do you think we had Inca relatives?” asked Teresa.
“Of course we did. They settled near Cusco in the Machu Pichu. It was a city high on a hill, made of great carved stones. Some were bigger than our car.”
“Can we go to Machu Pichu?” asked Lina.
“Not only will we go to Machu Pichu, we will also visit the Sagsaywaman Fortress,” replied Uncle Jorge.
“Sagsa-what?”
“Sag-say-wa-man. A great wall, stones stacked neatly, one on top of the other.”
“How did they stack these giant stones on top of each other?” asked Lina.
“Scientists think they used simple tools. They placed tree trunks on the ground and rolled the stones over them. They didn’t stack stones. Instead, they built ramps and pushed the stones up the slope.”
“That’s pretty smart,” said Teresa.
“Just like you used that shovel, the Incas used the things they had around them. Speaking of work, are you girls ready to go back to the stable?”
“Oh Jorge, the Alpaca can wait. The girls have only been here one day. You have a whole summer to wear them out.”
“Okay, we will rest. In a little while, I’ll hide the gold and you can look for it.”
“Thank the lord! My legs are so tired,” sighed Teresa.
“Me too,” said Lina agreeably.
Lina and Teresa’s legs were indeed too tired for working. Somehow, they were not too tired to run from one end of the pasture to the other, jumping up and down from the terraces.
Uncle Jorge relaxed with Aunt Paola on the back porch. The cold mountain air blew across his face. Unlike the girls, Uncle Jorge saved his energy for later. Right now, he was busy watching his nieces play two-person-tag in the pasture.
The girls finally quit playing just about the time Uncle Jorge decided to let the Alpaca out of their stalls. He filled their buckets with water and pellets, then enjoyed more Pachamanca goodies beside the half-dead fire.
Sun gave way to Moon and everyone went inside as cold air rushed down the mountainside. Although they worked half the day and played the rest, Uncle Jorge felt a great deal was accomplished.
He was glad Auntie Paola talked him into relaxing on the back porch. It reminded him of a job left unfinished. In the middle of the night, he sat alone in the living room, writing a letter to each of his boys.