By Jorge Recharte, 1993.

Chapter 3 - Households and Community in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu

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communality meant for Andean peasants.³⁶ For example, communities generally emphasized the fact that their agricultural lands for tubers (mandas)³⁷ and corn were private property. By emphasizing their respect for private property the Indians perhaps tried to diffuse the antagonism of the local elite. They may have also meant to indicate their acceptance of modern values.

Indians, however, stressed their respect for private property to the point that it became one of the arguments quoted by state bureaucrats to block legal recognition. This happened with Canchis Ayllu (Ayapata District, Carabaya Province) whose application for legal recognition was turned down on the grounds that common property was marginal in the life of households and consequently there was no community for the state to recognize. The response of the comuneros of Canchis³⁸ emphasized, in turn, the importance of common property in their lives:

Along the way from Ayapata to Esquilaya we own the land we call Karasana and its annexes with an extension of three thousand hectares. . .These are the property of the four Ayllus of Ayapata and also of Icaco. In those lands, where all is common, we also have large houses called Tambos to lodge all the travelers. We roof and repair them constantly, every year, since time immemorial. The five Ayllus have fenced off only what we call the ranches (estancias) since we obviously have to prevent the entrance of animals to the potato and broad bean fields. Even in these ranches the use of the pastures is communal after the harvest (ACCP, Canchis [1942] p. 140).

Their description of resources on the mountainsides is also revealing:

The opinions of the Inspector [of Indian Communities] are mistaken. It is not true that the typical development of property among the Indians of Peru has resulted in the division [of the Ayllu] into plots. . ., because the whole district is made up of mountains and very steep canyons. We do not have plains. The inspector does not seem to give any importance to the mountains that predominate in our district. Mountains are the base of our life. We have there our

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plots for late potatoes that we use to make chuñu, our daily bread. We have there our herds that give us meat to eat, wool to dress and [the mountainsides provide] the necessary straw to roof our houses, and in the lower parts even the wood to make the houses, and firewood for fuel. . .Nobody owns the mountains individually. The land that the four Ayllus own there amounts to several thousands of hectares, perhaps. We own them in common since the time of our ancestors (ACCP, Canchis, p. 140).

In the first quotation the montaña lands located between Ayapata and Esquilaya are described as "common" in the sense that households from the four minor ayllus of Ayapata and from Icaco (which formed a single maximal ayllu) had access to this montaña zone for the production of coca. Coca fields were privately owned by households, a fact the comuneros notably failed to mention in their letter to the Bureau of Indigenous Affairs. Yet, coca fields were rightfully considered by the ayllus to be common property in the sense that the transformation of the tropical forest into a locale of economic value was the outcome of group labor and maintenance. This notion is implicitly expressed in the reference made by the Indians of Ayapata to their tambos or lodging houses, which had been roofed collectively by them since time immemorial. Like the roads that connected the people of Ayapata with their coca fields, the Tambos had a symbolic value in addition to their practical function. The annual ceremonial roofing was a ritual that helped comuneros represent the political unity of their maximal ayllu.³⁹ Group roofing signified that individual ownership of coca fields was possible thanks to collective organization and work.⁴⁰ The reference to their ranches in the same quotation presents a similar ambiguity. Private plots in the mandas are to some extent subject to group control since they are used for grazing by the herds of all comuneros.⁴¹

The origin of communal property in some communities of the region adds to the ambiguity of andean notions of property. In the bureaucrats' perspective, an Indian community could not have official status if it did not own common lands. In order to fulfill this requirement, Indian communities which had never owned common land bought hacienda land and set it apart as collective property. In sum, what occurred was ironic: peasants went to the market to "buy" the common property that would convince the heirs of Adam Smith of their pre-market social and economic organization.

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The community documents of both Puna Laqueque and Canchis show the comuneros struggling to elucidate the dual nature of a production system based both on private property and on collective management. In the following section I discuss the political organization of Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu. I will explore the meanings of collective institutions in Cuyo Cuyo and the relationship of these institutions to resources.

The Political System of Community Authorities

In this section I will present an overview of public offices and service in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu, concentrating on the office of Teniente, in order to illustrate the way political power is exercised in the community. The cast of contemporary political authorities in both communities includes those established by the current Law of Peasant Communities and those that were in place before the current legislation.⁴²

Although the format of official political structure is dictated by the state, the peasants of Cuyo Cuyo (and throughout the Andes) have an ancient political tradition and great collective management skills (see Chapter 2). Comuneros rank community-level political offices. Some use the common expression como escalera "like a ladder," to describe the system of political service.⁴³ Each position has a twelve month term that begins the first of January, except for the President of the community who serves for two consecutive years.

The community is directed by a Council of Administration, headed by a President. Directly under his command is a Secretary, a Treasurer and several Vocales, people who transmit his orders to the community. The Council of Administration is supervised by a Council of Discipline and Honor. Both councils are under the authority of the General Assembly of comuneros, which meets three times a year. Communities also have a Lieutenant Governor (Teniente), who performs the function of Judge within the community; a Municipal Agent who is in charge of maintaining roads and public facilities; and several Arariwas who investigate instances of damage caused by animals in the agricultural fields. There are approximately

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thirty official positions in each community.⁴⁴

Every year there are three obligatory "General Assemblies", and a variable number of "Extraordinary Assemblies." Men are the major participants, although there are always a number of women in attendance, representing their absent husbands. In typical Andean fashion, men and women occupy separate places in the room, but both vote. Only the Assembly can approve collective labor projects or the creation of new Committees (see below). The Assembly also sanctions the official yearly calendar that regulates animal foraging in the cropping areas; and it sets the amounts of fines to be paid by the owners of animals that damage crops.⁴⁵ The Assembly of comuneros also establishes the price ceilings for agricultural products sold within the community.⁴⁶ Assembly meetings provide a good opportunity for community members to scold authorities who fail to deliver their services.

There is a large number of special-purpose Committees which are structured along the lines of the Council of Administration. Each has one President, one Vice-President, one Secretary, one Treasurer, and several Vocales. They perform a variety of public service functions. For example,

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some committees are in charge of the construction of buildings for development projects which are usually financed by state or private development organizations.⁴⁷ These buildings become tangible representations of the committee members' achievements.

Other committees are associated with voluntary associations (e.g., soccer teams) and community-based institutions (e.g., the school). Participation in these committees is far less prestigious than in any of the more visible positions of authority. However, successful performance of such services is an essential part of the public career through which individuals construct a power base in the community. Generally speaking, committees demand relatively little time and few resources from their members.⁴⁸ It is difficult to say how many committees exist in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu because they are active only as the situation demands, but I estimate that they involve some fifty households in each community.⁴⁹

The position of Teniente Gobernador demands almost daily attention to comuneros seeking the resolution of conflicts. Although the husband is the public office holder, his wife hosts the wives of other authorities on numerous occasions and contributes informally to her husband's role as mediator in inter-household conflicts. A Teniente is always addressed by this title during his term, and certainly by anyone who comes to his office, or despacho, seeking service. The despacho of the Teniente is set up in a room of his house reserved for this purpose. It always reminded me of a stage. Books of official records, protected for protection with the

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blue paper used by elementary school students all over Peru, sit in a corner of a large table together with the Code of Civil Justice and the seals of the Office. Silver-colored trophies and colorful pennants won by the soccer teams and musical bands of the community sit on the window sill or hang on the walls. Sheaves of official memos addressed to the Teniente are hooked on wires attached to the walls. Elsewhere the walls are covered with old newspapers, government posters, magazine pictures of coastal cities, and similar images of "progress." Amidst these icons of modernity is the traditional symbol of authority, a coiled whip with an elaborate metal handle. Some part of this paraphernalia is passed from one Teniente to the next.

People come to the office of the Teniente in search of a forum for justice. Most complaints consist of accusations of injurious gossip or verbal aggression known as "honor libels" among comuneros. The cases heard also include physical fights, parents who want to arrange the marriages of their sons and daughters (or to prohibit them), and all sorts of conflicts requiring mediation. If mediation is likely to be difficult the parties may ask the Teniente to record the case in his book of minutes. In a single page the content of the dispute is summarized, followed by the verdict and an indication of the amount of money to be paid by each party if the offense is recurs. If the Teniente is unable to find a solution, he sends the disputants to the Justice of the Peace or to the Guardia Civil, the police headquarters in Cuyo Cuyo.

As mentioned above, the majority of conflicts that bring people to the office of the Teniente are "honor libels"; i.e., gossip and insults concerning the personal worth an individual. In fact, a Teniente is kept busy just to find solutions to fights among members of committees and other voluntary associations. In the records I reviewed, cases included authorities suing comuneros for insults to their honor; plaintiffs suing members of the committee on which they served for gossip concerning their performance; a musical band suing disloyal members who played for another band; and dancers of the annex and the "mother" community imposing (in advance) a fine on themselves to prevent the occurrence of fights during fiestas.

Conflicts between individuals who end up in the despacho of the Teniente are often triggered by insults. It is not easy to reconstruct the context of these disputes from the sparse notes in the Teniente's books. However, it is evident that litigation is an important part of life in the community. On many occasions the costs in time and cash of pursuing a case are considerable. Disputes always involve couples, even if only one partner created the problem. Meetings with the Teniente sometimes entail the participation of "witnesses"⁵⁰ who contribute to the discussions and

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lend weight to the resolution reached by the parties. In difficult cases, such as those that involve marriage problems, close relatives of each party also are present for the proceedings in the office of the Teniente. It seems evident from numerous cases recorded in the books of the Tenientes, that in these circumstances the agreement must include all family members in order to prevent a rekindling of the fight.

Authorities exchange visits among themselves throughout their year of service. These visits take place whenever important community business requires discussion. Such events always involve ritual chewing of coca and drinking of alcohol. When the host of the meeting is the Teniente, his coca and alcohol are placed on top of a table, on an inkuña, a special weaving that his wife has made for his tour of duty. This inkuña sometimes has his name and the year of service woven into it. The bottles of the other authorities and their own inkuñas are arranged on top of the Teniente's cloth according to seniority and the political position each person holds in the community.

A Teniente is expected to make ritual payments to Santa Tierra Pachamama, the Mother Earth spirit, at the beginning of his service in January, then in August, and finally in December when he leaves the office.⁵¹ Similarly, there are occasions during the year in which the wife of a Teniente must prepare food for the guests of the Office. The Teniente and his wife are also expected to invite the whole community to a meal during Carnival in February or March.

The large amount of time and the intensity of the commitment required to mediate social conflicts throughout the year are a great responsibilities and they give those comuneros who undertake the position of Teniente a right claim to status. La pérdida de tiempo, the "loss of time" is a theme that Tenientes always emphasize when talking about their period of service to the community. On several occasions I heard Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu Tenientes and other authorities refer publicly to the "loss of time," to remind listeners of the value of their service. Politically skillful Tenientes were described to me as those who could evoke in listeners thoughts of their service to the community without overtly mentioning it. These Tenientes could command the obedience of comuneros without revealing their power and vanity. A man with this skill and virtue is called a sumaq runa, a "man of quality."

All political positions in the community involve a cost in time and material resources. For example, the position of President of the Council of Administration in the community requires that the officer remain in the community throughout the two years of service. This denies him the opportunity to migrate seasonally in search of cash. The Municipal Agent is constantly demanded by his fellow comuneros to inspect fields damaged by animals and to settle this kind of dispute. Although the jobs of Presidente, Teniente, and Agente Municipal are the most costly in terms of time and expense, all other positions of authority entail some sacrifices.

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The system of authorities and special committees is valued by comuneros. They are conscious both of the costs of public service and the utility of community organizations for the promotion of household production. The prestige earned by public officers thus accrues as much from the "sacrifices" involved in public service as from the benefits obtained by each household. For example, one of the most important services provided by these officers is the control or discouragement of "freeloaders," those comuneros who attempt to shirk their responsibilities in the exploitation of collective resources and in the performance of collective work. From the point of view of individual households, the collective resources of the community are less important than private means of production yet there is intense competition for their use. Collective resources policed by officials include pastures, patches of forest, mineral deposits, quarries, rocky soils unsuitable for agriculture but which can be used to plant trees, fish in the rivers and lakes of the community, and sources of potable water. These resources cannot be used by any household without compensating the community in some way.⁵²

Punishment of "free loaders" consists mostly of public reproach of the accused, reinforced by the threat of fines. One of the most common sources of conflict is crop damage caused by unattended animals who stray into fields from their foraging in fallow lands open to public use. It is the responsibility of the Municipal Agent and the Arariwas, comuneros who police fields carrying the whip that symbolizes authority, to "jail" the animals they find wandering loose within the cropping area. The animals are released to their owners only upon payment of a fee.⁵³

The Lieutenant Governor and the President deal with more serious matters, such as the illegal use of communal lands by a household. "Free loaders" who cannot be brought under control by these authorities are brought to community meetings, in which more serious scolding and threats are used to make them comply.⁵⁴ Officials of the community must make sure that comuneros pay all monetary contributions owed. Comuneros' cash contributions are usually small sums paid on a three-tiered scale depending on their economic standing within the community, but there are many of these cuotas throughout the year. During my period of fieldwork, comuneros in Puna Ayllu contributed money on approximately 14 occasions, although

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some of these were carry-overs from the previous year.⁵⁵

Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu authorities also must ensure that households do not neglect their labor contributions to the community. The vitality of communal labor (faenas) depends on success in discouraging free loaders. Collective labor projects in Puna Ayllu during the period 1985-1986 included: cleaning the water canals of the community mine and the water system that feeds the pools used for the preservation of oca; repairing the footpaths of the community and the car road to the mine; building a hut for an electric generator; repairing the teachers' house at the community school; reconstructing the plaza in front of the mine's church; building a shed for the community herding cooperative; building a one-room structure for the health facility of the community; and, planting and harvesting the yanasin, a community potato field.

People are extremely sensitive to free loading. In one agricultural faena in which I participated, attendants had gathered in the plot to chew coca and perform the ritual sprinkling of alcohol on the chemical fertilizers while waiting for the rest of people to come. When the time to start planting arrived and it became clear that a large part of the community was missing from the faena. Quiet complaints soon became loud protest, with everybody griping at the same time about the free loaders.

There ideally is one vocal for each section of the community. His duty is to contact personally each neighbor who fails to attend the faena. Faena attendance is viewed by participants as a gauge to measure the authority and respect that the President and Lieutenant Governor command in the community. In those projects that involve several days of work, the President and Lieutenant themselves may have to visit the absent households to pressure them to participate.

The vitality of communal organization in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu is directly related to the administrative skill of officeholders and to the public image of their households and families. For example, marriage godparents may put pressure on their godchildren to assume communal responsibilities. This is one of the godparents' customary duties. Marriage compadrazgo helps to insure that new households get involved in the network of duties that inevitably move them into the public arena. If a new couple is reluctant to take positions of public service, gossip might center on their godparents, who then put pressure on the couple to perform their community duties.

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Family prestige is a carefully protected asset. Public attack on one's person, the feared wankasqa, can initiate long-lasting conflicts that may end up involving parents and other relatives who join the dispute on the side of their family member. The first time I heard a wankasqa I was sitting in the backyard of a house in Puna Ayllu on a bright sunny day. Suddenly a neighbor who was thoroughly intoxicated started to shout insults in Quechua against one of his compadres, because this compadre had not attended the wedding of one of his sons. I was told that even if the compadre did not hear the insults directly, they inevitably would reach him through the grapevine. It was suggested in the discussion that this wankasqa would certainly conclude in a fight.

Institutionalized forms of public confrontation among individuals helped me to understand the performance of public office and fiesta sponsorship as sources of personal power. Expressions such as "I have served the community," "I am worthy," "I have words [speech]," are sometimes used when comuneros fight. These verbal, public duels, in which comuneros question each other's personal worth, are not peculiar to present-day Cuyo Cuyo. The following quotation comes from the diary of a school teacher from Coasa, northwest of Cuyo Cuyo in the Carabaya Province. The condescending tone towards drinking and fighting among comuneros implicit in the following quotation misses essentially ritualistic aspects of this behavior in Andean culture (see Allen 1988). Nonetheless, it forcefully illustrates duels over individuals' social and personal worth:

In reference to fiestas, the devotion which they extend is not to the Virgin or to the saints of the church, but to alcohol, to coca and to corn beer. The saints of the church serve as a smoke-screen; the consequence is that peasants get intoxicated, terminating at times in incredible disputes and insults over the manner in which each fulfills his sponsorship. . .The one who does not provide [drinks] so that all the gathering can become drunk is ridiculed, [and also] the one who was not willing to spend his money for the year's fiesta. . ." (my translation from a quotation in Montgomery [1965: 130-131]).

The public confrontation of people during fiestas and other gatherings is part of the process by which individuals consolidate their power. The expression "having speech" refers first of all to the fact that people who served in community positions are given priority in speaking in community meetings. It is for this reason, said a comunero, that young, single men cannot speak at public gatherings, "because they are nothing, they do not have 'speech'." In a more general sense, the expression "having speech" refers to the fact that performing community service endows a person with political power. In public contexts, and particularly when there are conflicts of interest among individuals or family groups, comuneros use their prestige as an essential part of their strategy to triumph over others. In past times, a Cuyo Cuyo comunero who accumulated power as a result of investment of time in the collectivity was called Kuraqruna (the elder), Pasasqa (retiree), Uma Kamachikuq (head authority), Mandón (one who gives orders). Today they are respectfully known as Cesantes (retirees).

To summarize, I have examined the political offices in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu and

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have demonstrated their vitality and importance that they have in the social reproduction of the individual household. However, the personal histories of these households are inter-woven with wider multi-household kindred groups. In the next section I conclude my examination of community in Cuyo Cuyo with a brief study of fiestas in Puna Ayllu and Ura Ayllu. I will consider the community as an institution, and attempt to show that the peasant community in Cuyo Cuyo is, in fact, something more than a sum of the constituent individuals and households.

Community, Fiestas, and Peasant History

The celebration of public fiestas is one of the most important means by which Cuyo Cuyeño peasants rehearse and affirm their collective historical experience. The communal celebration of Catholic patron saints relates closely to the political organization of Sandino ayllus (see Chapter 2). In 1736 there were three main churches in Sandia, each one serving separate groups of ayllus. The church of Santiago de Sandia was located in the capital of this Corregimiento and had under its jurisdiction the parishes of Ñacoreque and San Antonio de Cuyo Cuyo.⁵⁶ Only the church in Sandia had a permanent resident priest, who served Ñacoreque and Cuyo Cuyo parishioners when they celebrated their main festivities. It was the largest and wealthiest of the three. Its members included the residents of the ayllus of Laqueque, Apabuco, and Queneque. The church of Ñacoreque was the ritual center for the groups of families belonging to all the minor groups of Ayllu Hururo (see Chapter 2), while the church of San Antonio de Cuyo Cuyo served the residents of this maximal ayllu.

In 1736 the ayllus belonging to the parish of Santiago de Sandia had five religious celebrations in the course of the year. Each fiesta had a Mayordomo and two Second Lieutenants (Alférez). Ñacoreque and San Antonio de Cuyo Cuyo had two festivities, with the same number of Majordomos and Second Lieutenants. These sponsors were expected to present their communities with a gift (Rikuchikuy) consisting of one bull and two lambs, in addition to wine and other agricultural products for the celebration of the fiesta.⁵⁷

It is likely that these ayllu celebrations -- centered on the images of Catholic saints -- date back to the time of the reducciones, in which Spanish-style towns and parishes were created in the 1570s through forced

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relocation and centralization of the dispersed ayllus.⁵⁸ One of the many consequences of the reducciones policy was the destruction of ancestor-based lineage cults. Reducciones also facilitated the levy of Indian taxes and other fees. Taxes were collected by the colonial authorities twice a year, during the celebration of maximal ayllu patron saint's festivities. Thus, it is not surprising that colonial towns, parishes and saints became symbolic of the alliance among minor ayllu segments as they interacted with the colonial state and church.⁵⁹ Celebrating the fiesta of the patron saint likely has been a key element in the social reproduction of ayllus since colonial times.

There is a corpus of stories in Cuyo Cuyo that tell of the miraculous apparitions of Virgins and Christs in all the ayllus of Sandia. These stories probably originated in colonial times and, more specifically, in the period in which ayllus redefined their territories. The following fragment from one of these narratives explains the origin of the Virgin of the Rosary, the patron saint of the Cuyo Cuyo District:

I am going to tell you how we started worshiping this Virgin. It is said that in the past people wanted to worship and have a Virgin. There was a pond, a small pond [in Sayaca] right by where the school is sitting now. Above it, high above it, there was a cross, they had a Calvary [there]. The elders said 'we have to dance,' and they started dancing a dance called Puli asking the Lord to give them a Virgin. They danced at the foot of the Calvary, they danced and danced this Puli. One day, the rock, the Calvary, perspired, it perspired water, it perspired, and perspired until a little Virgin formed from the perspiration of the rock. So the dancers asked the Virgin: 'where do you want to go? which way? where are we going to make your church?' And the Virgin said: 'there, where that bird is going to land,' and the bird flew right to where the church is now, there, on top of the little pond. This is the place that our little Virgen del Rosario wants, said the people. The Puli, the Kallawaya, the Chuncho dances they danced.⁶⁰

The districts of the Peruvian Republican, created after 1821, followed the boundaries of the parishes. In the case of the Sandia Valley, these have not been altered since. Ritual aspects of contemporary fiestas in Cuyo Cuyo continue to demarcate ayllu and moiety boundaries, and thus reveal a cultural memory of colonial history. For example, during both the

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celebrations of Carnival and of the Virgin of the Rosary, the central plaza of Cuyo Cuyo is divided into four imaginary quarters or "altars" which are occupied by the ayllus of the district in the following way: Llaqta "owns" the southeastern quadrant, Pampa Cojene-Rotojoni the southwestern one, Ura Ayllu the northwestern one, and Puna Ayllu the northeastern quarter. In both fiestas the bands and dancers from the four communities of the district gather in the plaza and each group moves to its own space. The bands compete against each other, playing different tunes simultaneously, while their dancers fight with those from other communities who breach the imaginary borders (saywas) that separate their "altars."

In this and other cases fiestas are one of the most important means by which Cuyo Cuyeños institutionalize their historical experience as a social group. I want to turn now to examine how the history of fiestas relates to the social life of the individuals of the community. My strategy will be to analyze fiestas in light of the value that public duty has for individuals and couples in Cuyo Cuyo.

Once performed, "service" becomes a form of political capital for comuneros. "Service" in community government and in the sponsorship of fiestas entails economic expenses. Comuneros make constant reference to these costs, to their financial outlays and to their "sacrifice," "effort," or "suffering," always aiming to evoke images of deprivation and toil. I have emphasized the functional meaning of such practices in the context of the political system. Here I want to explore the historical dimension of the dialectic of individual and community in Cuyo Cuyo.

I suggest that comuneros value communal organizations highly because these organizations guarantee access to land and to the means of production that secure the comuneros' reproduction. The implication of this proposition is that comuneros know the value that their communal institutions. But, how can they be aware of this value if their apprehension of history is "shallow" from a discursive and literate perspective?⁶¹ I suggest that Cuyo Cuyeño peasants' historical knowledge is located at the interface of ritual practices and community political structure. In order to illustrate this I will examine the Carnival celebration in Cuyo Cuyo, one of the most important fiestas in the annual calendar of Cuyo Cuyo.⁶²

Carnival is celebrated during the week before Lent, which in Cuyo Cuyo is close to harvest time. Carnival is the first fiesta that young married couples are expected to sponsor. Two households assume the responsibility every year. The oldest of the two couples is called "High"

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or "Male Sponsor" (Hatun or Machu Capitán) and the other is the "Young" or "Female Sponsor" (Wayna or Warmi Capitán).⁶³ People who explained to me the nature of Hatun and Wayna sponsorship repeated the themes of service, experience, and power:

The Hatun Capitán is older, with more experience; he can face anybody [during the fiesta], Wayna Capitán is weak, like a female.

According to tradition, the sponsors of Carnival must commit their support one year ahead of the celebration. During this year they look for credit or save enough money for their anticipated expenses in food, costumes, alcohol and coca, among other things. They must request ayni from other households to be their "assistants": musicians, cooks, hostesses, and stewards. A friend who sponsored the 1986 Carnival said that it was particularly difficult to secure the services of musicians, a drummer and a flute player (Wahtaq and Tukaq). The musicians must accompany the sponsors day and night during the week-long celebration. During the festivities, the sponsors have to provide abundant food and alcohol to their musicians, to the dancers who accompany them, and to their ayni "assistants." The female sponsors must weave the special clothing required for the celebration, most importantly the llikllas that their husbands must wear during the dances.⁶⁵

Musicians and dancers wear special costumes provided by the sponsor. Men wear the women's hats,⁶⁶ with hundreds of fresh, tiny yellow hot peppers⁶⁷ sewn together and arranged in concentric circles on top.⁶⁸ For

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this occasion men wear three-piece suits called "casimirs," and shoes, rather than the ubiquitous sandals. Crossed over the coat they wear two llikllas and over the pants they wear skirt-like garments called karapis in Quechua.⁶⁹ Musicians and sponsors also wear dozens of colorful ribbons hanging from their shoulders to their ankles, and they carry a white flag stamped with the seal of the District Governor on top of a long and narrow pole. I was told that the purpose of the Governor's seals on the flag was to prevent fights between the ayllus of the district. Thus, the Governor's authority still plays a symbolic role in the fiesta although it has lost its former high status (see Chako Apakuy below). The female sponsors also wear new dresses and weavings. They wear waistcoats and either modern plain red skirts or old-fashioned, pleated black skirts. These black skirts are worn only on special occasions, as a symbol of wealth in the family.

The Hatun Capitán of Carnival in February 1986 in Puna Ayllu said that the total cost of his sponsorship was 6,000 Intis. This is a substantial amount of money, as is evident if we compare it with the annual income from gold among Ancoccala miners, which on average at that time was 8,790 Intis ($586.00).⁷⁰

One of the jobs of the Lieutenant and his subordinate, the Auxiliary Lieutenant, is to identify married couples who are ready for the sponsorship of such a celebration. Once the list is pared down to two or three households, the Tenientes visit the marriage godparents of the chosen couples and inform them of their decision, inviting the godparents to drink alcohol and chew coca. The godparents are then expected to deliver the message to their godchildren who will protest the request, pointing to their youth and poverty, and the difficulties of sponsoring such an expensive celebration.⁷¹¹

After this step, the godparents notify the Tenientes, who also visit the prospective sponsors. The young couple reiterate their protest, citing poverty and the sacrifice it would entail for them and their small children to assume the expenses of Carnival. The authorities ply members of the household with words, alcohol and coca during two more visits, until the proposed sponsors finally and invariably accept on the third request.⁷²

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The families who are selected by the tenientes and who resist so vigorously are in fact probably seeking to undertake the sponsorship. Negation and public pronouncement of the "sacrifices" are part of the institutionalized behavior that gives credence to the "cost" of the sponsorship. This creates prestige for the couple who then has the courage to accept such a dreadful task for the well-being of the community.

One of the duties of Carnival sponsors is to celebrate the inauguration of the Lieutenant Governor. On the morning of New Year's Day, they visit the house of the new Teniente and take him, dancing and drinking, to visit the houses of all the Cesantes, or retired Tenientes. The retired Tenientes are invited to join them in a visit to the office of the Governor in Cuyo Cuyo, where the incoming Teniente is officially sworn in. About two months later, on the first Sunday of Carnival, the sponsors of this fiesta once again take the incoming and retired Tenientes to dance in Cuyo Cuyo. On this occasion the sponsors present the District Governor and the police officers with a live wild animal, such as a newborn hawk or a wild duck, decorated with small balloons and colored strips of paper. This ceremony is known as Chaku apaykuy in Quechua.⁷³

To conclude this brief depiction of Carnival I must note that ideally sponsoring this fiesta is a prerequisite to election to the office of Teniente. This may explain the prominent position of the retired Tenientes in the celebration. During Carnival, the Cesantes are addressed as machula (ancestors) and they must stay together, acting as directors of protocol for the Capitanes and incoming Tenientes.

Sponsoring the Carnival fiesta represents a substantial financial outlay. However, far more important that this expenditure of money, is the fact that this sponsorship is a duty towards one's godparents, whose public prestige is at stake. If the godchildren refuse to fulfill this obligation, the reputation of the godparents suffers. In order to sponsor a Carnival fiesta, married couples must mobilize important social resources through ayni exchanges with other households. In fact, they must have accumulated service debts in order to draw a large following of ayni workers and fiesta participants. The creation of these social obligations is certainly part of peoples' perception of the cost and value of sponsoring Carnival. Thus, one of the ways in which the community evaluates the success of a sponsor is by the size of his following during the celebrations:

[During Carnival]. . .each sponsor has his followers. In order to have them one has to be a popular person. For all of them you have to prepare the montera [hat], lliklla [mantle], tukaq, pinkillos [musical instruments]. People talk so much about those who have many followers! They [the sponsors] feel so proud!

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Another measure of the success of a Carnival is it's adherence to "traditional" protocol; i.e., the sponsors must wear the Carnival costumes, have the correct type and number of musicians, etc. The sponsors of Carnival are expected to bear the "cost" of reproducing "tradition," the social appropriation of Cuyo Cuyeño historical experience. I mean this in a very literal sense. For example, the Capitán has to buy a costly three-piece suit and wear shoes, which in the context of Carnival are symbols that point to the history of peasant resistance against misti domination. The point is that sponsors must spend money on symbols of the community's sense of historical identity.

A fascinating aspect of Carnival is that it brings together households who have concluded their political careers -- and are thus addressed as "ancestors" -- and households who are undertaking their first burdensome communal service. The Capitanes honor those comuneros (Machula Tenientes) who have accumulated the prestige arising from a life long investment of service in the community. It is not surprising, then, that these influential elders become the keepers of "tradition."

In addition to Carnival, which is celebrated independently by each community, other important fiestas of the Cuyo Cuyo District are: 1) Santa Cruz (The Holy Cross), which is celebrated independently by each community on May 3rd; 2) Virgen del Rosario (Virgin of the Rosary), the fiesta of the patron saint of Cuyo Cuyo, which is celebrated during the first week of October by all the communities of the district; 3) Todos Santos (All Saints), which is more of a family festival than a communal one, is celebrated on November 1st; and 4) Mamita Limaqpampa or Virgen Concebida (Virgin of the Immaculate Conception), which is a fiesta celebrated only by Puna Ayllinos on December 8th. Each of these fiestas lasts from three to seven days.

The number of fiestas, the details of the costumes, musical forms and choreography involved, and their social organization have all changed through time in important ways. For example, formerly all of the communities celebrated the Qollana, or the first plowing of the earth during Easter. This celebration now is found only in Ura Ayllu, where it involves a small group of people. Corpus Christi was also a major celebration in Cuyo Cuyo until a few decades ago. The sponsorship was rotated among comuneros of the four minor ayllus of the maximal group. The communal celebration of these festivities has changed, along with the segmentation of maximal ayllus and the emergence of peasant communities. The changes tend towards simplification and a focus on community-level rather than district-level festivities. As well the old-fashioned Ayarachi tunes played with bamboo flutes and deer-skin drums have been replaced by chicha tunes played on western-style wind instruments. The new musical style is popular among migrants to cities and the goldfields. Music, costume, choreography, and dance, are some of many forms of expression of the collective historical experience of a new generation of peasants in Cuyo Cuyo.

The celebration of Carnival in Cuyo Cuyo involves a series of ritual events that institutionalize personal value and political power. Household decision-making in this ritual sphere unfolds in the larger framework of kinship alliances, extending beyond the narrow space of domestic interests

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to the communal social realm. Household participation in the public arena is influenced in multiple ways by the articulation of cash and subsistence production in Cuyo Cuyo: 1) communal administration is essential to mixed agricultural-pastoral production, 2) the fiesta system structures the annual cycle of production, and 3) investment of money in private and public fiestas as well as in the performance of government duties advances the prestige of households as community members. From this perspective, individualism and communalism are like two sides of a single coin.