Generative AI was not used in the write up for this assignment.
The nominated blogs are 1, 2, 3 and 4.
Generative AI was not used in the write up for this assignment.
The nominated blogs are 1, 2, 3 and 4.
Mutual Capacity for Harm
When considering a visit to the
Machu Picchu, it’s essential to recognise that my presence as a traveller
carries inherent risks – both to myself and to the site itself.
On one hand, Machu Picchu is
under severe pressure from overtourism. According to a case study by Schlauderaf et al., Machu Picchu regularly experiences overtourism. (Schlauderaf et al. n.d). That level of foot traffic accelerates erosion and
threatens both infrastructure and biodiversity. As a visitor, my very presence
— regardless of intent — contributes to that strain. Without deliberate effort,
I risk being just another body in the crowd adding to long-term damage.
In order to minimise this risk I
would commit to travelling only during the slower parts of the year – late April
to May according to testimonies – and would avoid large tour groups. I would also
ensure that I support local initiatives designed for sustainable engagement and
environmental protection.
On the other hand, Machu Picchu
poses a physical risk to me, particularly through altitude related illnesses.
Found at over 2,400 meters above sea level, the site is high enough to trigger altitude
sickness even in health individuals (CDC, 2022). This, alongside steep, uneven
terrain and unpredictable weather conditions and there’s potential for injury, illness
or even emergency situations.
To manage this risk, I’d take acclimatisation very seriously by spending time in higher-altitude areas before heading up to Machu Picchu, as well as hydrate regularly and pack medication as a preventative measure. Ultimately, I’d learn to recognise the signs of danger and react to prioritise my safety. Travel isn’t just about taking in new sights — it’s about taking responsibility. Risk must be navigated both ways, as I have the potential to just as much (if not greater) harm to the site than it can do to me.
Peru Insider. (n.d.). Is Machu Picchu safe? https://www.peruinsider.co/is-machu-picchu-safe-peru/
Axe, J. (n.d.). Altitude sickness symptoms, causes and natural treatments. DrAxe. https://draxe.com/health/altitude-sickness/
Chang, C.-L., McAleer, M., & Ramos, V. (2020). A charter for sustainable tourism after COVID-19. Sustainability, 12(9), 3671. https://doi.org/10.3390/su12093671
Perl, T. M., & Price, C. S. (2020). Managing emerging infectious diseases: Should travel be the fifth vital sign? Annals of Internal Medicine, 172(11), 785–786. https://doi.org/10.7326/M20-0503
Schlauderaff, S., Press, J., Huston, H., Su, C.-H. (Joan), & Tsai, C. H. (Ken). (n.d.). Are we putting our favorite destinations in peril? A no longer lost city – Machu Picchu case study. [Case study].
Bathrooms
When imagining the natural and
architectural wonder that is the Machu Picchu I naturally envision dramatic
mountain views, lush greenery, stone paths, ruined temples and very many
llamas. What does not come to mind, however, is the moment of confusion in a
cramped shack halfway up a trail in the greenery, facing a squat toilet nobody
could have mentally prepared me for.
That, is culture shock. Not
because squat toilets are “weird” per se, but because they’ll inevitably force
me to confront just how deep my biases about “modernity” really are. In
Australia, sanitation is a given focused on convenience. In rural Peru –
particularly along the routes to Machu Picchu – public toilets are shaped by uneven
terrain, irregular water access, and different cultural priorities. Logically I
know that it is just a toilet, but I also know that I would panic the first
time. Why? Because I have been trained to see these differences as primitive
and unsanitary despite the actual reality.
Hottola’s 2004 concept of “culture
confusion” appropriately fits this situation. My discomfort doesn’t stem from
disrespect or judgement, but from the jarring destruction of assumptions I wasn’t
even aware I had. The shock isn’t about the Machu Picchu, or Peru, but about
me.
At a broader scale this can become
rather dangerous. Considering the already very essentialised view of the Machu
Picchu as a spiritually pure but materially poor and “underdeveloped” site, my
culture confusion can be harmful. If I were to respond with frustration or judgement,
I risk reinforcing a harmful narrative with my power as a tourist and member of
the digital world. Hence, to minimise culture shock/confusion research about
the day-to-day aspects of life at the Machu Picchu would be paramount.
Ultimately, however, culture confusion isn’t failure – it’s growth.


Science and Volunteering
While Machu Picchu is undoubtedly
flooded with attention, this does not necessarily translate into engagement.
While tourists absorb its grandeur and ‘mystical energy’ the local communities often
see very little benefit from this influx of tourists.
To identify a situation for
meaningful engagement I’d begin by consulting local, community-based organisations
in the Sacred Valley region. While I would focus on Indigenous education,
infrastructure and environmental conservation my exploration of Machu Picchu’s
history and people have long since informed me of the cultural importance of
science and knowledge. Rather than assuming what’s needed and asserting my own biases,
I would prioritise listening and learning about the challenges locals face – be
it deforestation for tourist development, or a lack of access to STEM educational
resources.
As a science student my
contribution could focus on sustainable practices – helping develop or enhance
low-cost water filtration systems, soil testing for sustainable farming, or
even helping with teaching younger students. Crucially, I’d need to partner
with local engineers, environmental experts, translators, teachers and elders
to adapt these ideas to the cultural and logistical realities of the region. If
I have learnt anything, it is that far from being a lost civilisation in need
of “modernisation” or “saving”, the local Indigenous communities are a people
built on a generational understanding of science and geography. It is about adapting
and providing the resources they need to flourish and develop on their own.
Contrary to the atrocities of the
orphanages in Cambodia where children are unintentionally mistreated by the
very volunteers who came to help them, my approach constitutes meaningful
engagement as it avoids exoticising struggle and assuming the recipients of aid
are helpless and uninformed. Instead, it values partnership, long-term
sustainability, and ultimately establishing solutions designed by the Quechua population
of the region, for the Quechua people.
Globe Aware. (n.d.). Machu Picchu volunteer vacation. https://globeaware.org/destinations/latin-america-caribbean/machu-picchu
Papi, D. (2012, November 29). Cambodia’s orphanage problem. HuffPost. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/daniela-papi/cambodia-orphanages-_b_2164385.html
Energy Vortex and New Age Spirituality
While
the blog series has explored the broader place essentialism of the Machu Picchu
several layers remain to be unpacked. Several smaller forms of essentialism
serve to contribute to this greater misunderstanding, one of the most glaring being
the promotion of Machu Picchu as an “energy vortex” and the rise of “spiritual
tourism.”
Numerous online organisations promote travel to Machu Picchu and use this spiritualism as a means of enticing foreigners. “Ticket Machu Picchu” is an example of this, going so far as to assert that the “recurrent tremors and earthquakes” provoke the “energy” tourists feel in the mountain. These tours often frame the historic site as a means of personal discovery and cosmic power – fitting the Western New Age form of spirituality. This is a compelling means of drawing in tourists, but one that detracts from historical, scientific, and cultural complexity. As Massey (1995) explains, essentialist narratives often rely on a fixed idea of place, ignoring its dynamism and the multiple stories that intersect within it. This idea plays out at Machu Picchu, where spirituality often overshadows the site's evolving cultural reality.
Despite
this, it would be disingenuous to cast all organisations under the same light.
There exist several more recent tourism groups that frame the travel around the
Incan way of life, acknowledge the Machu Picchu as a “testament” to the Incan
people (Kondor Paths Tours). By representing the Incan culture and history of
the mountain city through the tourism, the essentialist outlook is directly challenged,
though the risk of stereotyping or commodifying the culture remains.
Ultimately,
place essentialism in the Machu Picchu is an ongoing problem. It reduces a
complex, live culture into a marketable brand for tourists at the expense of an
evolving community. Whether the overall disregard for Incan knowledge or the more
niche compartmentalisation into an “energy vortex,” it is only through engagement
and learning that essentialism can be opposed.
The Great Mural of Cusco
Naturally,
being a protected World Heritage site, the Machu Picchu does not feature any
street art. In spite of this
limitation, however, various avenues of artistic expression exist around the
site, notably in the communities or cities near it. These ‘gates’ to Machu
Picchu allow for unofficial perspectives of the site to be imparted to the
visiting tourists and remain a key means of communication for the Indigenous
population.
One such example of street art is The Great Mural of Cusco, a 50-meter tall and 6-meter-wide testament to the struggles and history of the Indigenous population of the region. It presents these people as a constant, developing force that continues to maintain their culture and history despite the conventional idea of them being ‘ancient’ or ‘lost.’ While originally a form of rebellion, the artwork has made a name for itself as an unofficial tourist attraction that many travellers and tourists see en route to the Machu Picchu from Cusco.
Critically, the mural performs exactly the kind of work Millner identifies in her analysis of street art as “visual poetics”. It is art with a critical impulse, capable of confronting institutional narratives (Millner, 2017). In this case, the mural offers a direct counter-narrative to the “mystical lost city” branding of Machu Picchu. It insists that the story isn’t over and that the people aren’t gone. The way it preludes people’s visits to the Machu Picchu and is such a modern form of expression helps to directly challenge the essentialist view of the site – highlighting the power of street art.
Inkayni Peru Tours. (n.d.). Great mural of Cusco – considered the biggest mural of South America. https://www.inkayniperutours.com/blog/great-mural-of-cusco-considered-the-biggest-mural-of-south-america
Image: Tripadvisor. (n.d.). Great Mural Of Cusco – All You Need to Know BEFORE You Go. https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Attraction_Review-g294314-d27926320-Reviews-Great_Mural_Of_Cusco-Cusco_Cusco_Region.html
The Intihuatana Stone
Machu Picchu is often considered the crown jewel of Incan civilisation and is a clear representation of Indigenous knowledge and innovation. Despite this, conventional biases pertaining to Incan culture (and ancient civilisations in general) has led many visitors into being enthralled by the mysticism and spiritual aspects of the Machu Picchu without appreciating the scientific knowledge the villagers had.
A
poignant symbol of this is the Intihuatana Stone. It is one of the most
well-known sites at Machu Picchu, carved directly out of the mountain rock at
the sites most elevated point. The Stone was considered a sacred part of the Machu
Picchu and experts believe it to have been a centrepiece to many religious
celebrations. This significance makes it a common tourist destination, with
visitors claiming to feel energy radiating from the carving. Tourists used to
even be allowed to touch it so they could feel the energy of the sun.
Despite
this, the Intihuatana Stone is much more than a religious site – for it is also
a symbol of the Incan’s understanding of astronomy. Experts agree that the main
function of the Stone was as a sundial, a theory supported by how the sun lines
up directly above the stone during both biannual equinoxes.
Harper, M., & White, R. (2016). Symbols of Australia. NewSouth Publishing.
Image: Savage, M. (2012, May 28). Intihuatana de Machu Picchu (Pérou) [Photograph]. Wikimedia Commons. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Peru_-_Machu_Picchu_123_-_Intihuatana_(7181950605).jpg
Generative AI was not used in the write up for this assignment. The nominated blogs are 1, 2, 3 and 4.