Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Gervasio Guerrero drove the black Mercedes Benz through the automatically controlled gate inside the wide esplanade lined by gardens, and stopped it in front of the stairway of the Chehab-Cifuentes mansion. Two Corinthian columns adorned the sides of the door of walnut with heavy bronze fixtures. The building, dating back to the 1950s, was sumptuous but not tacky, big but not in excess, functional despite having 60 years due to the numerous reforms implemented by successive owners.

Guerrero had picked up the car in the airport parking lot, when together with Teresa they came down from the private plane that returned them to Mexico DF. He descended from the car and walked around it to politely open Teresa´s door, but the woman, who had little affection for the strict codes within which her family moved, was already walking up the stairs.

At the lobby her grandfather Jorge Chehab, true owner of the Palace and founder of the dynasty, was waiting for her. Second generation of a Syrian family arrived in 1918, Don Jorge -as everybody knew him- had made his fortune in the textile industry, and currently had factories in several sites of Mexico, Guatemala and El Salvador. He was still in business, though he now traveled only in exceptional cases.

Jorge hugged and kissed her granddaughter with relief; the girl, only granddaughter of an also unique daughter, was the Sun of his life in his older age. The overprotective and complacent grandfather intended to offset the weak presence of the father figure in Teresa´s life. Gonzalo Cifuentes, research archaeologist of the Anthropological Museum of Mexico City was a man withdrawn and closed in himself and in his profession, something like the opposite side of the coin of his charismatic father-in-”law. He had only had a decisive influence in the selection of Teresa´s university career, more by emulation than by having worried about convincing the girl to follow in his footsteps. Leila, the mother, although a relevant social figure in her circle was only a grey figure only limited to suffer with the adventures and hazards-real or suspected- that her only daughter ran.

The extended family met for dinner around the large table, chaired by Don Jorge. The welcome given to his daughter by Cifuentes had been of authentic but somewhat distant joy, while his wife had not stopped crying and really had not heard what her daughter had to say.

Teresa, at her grandfather´s request made a more or less detailed narration of what had happened, emphasizing some things and diminishing the relevance of others.

“Could you describe the piece that you found?”Asked the father, naively exposing himself to his wife´s wrath.

“But, how important is it?” Exclaimed Leila bitterly “Because of these gadgets she could have lost her live.”

“Is not so” intervened Teresa without much intimate conviction “if those horrible men had had bad intentions I would not be here.”

“At least they did not abuse you” consoled herself the mother, who at the meeting alone with her daughter had been interested by this aspect in particular.

“In fact the group, despite being integrated mostly by small part-time crooks, had however some rigid discipline, no doubt by the presence of the Cuban and especially the Russian, who I think had a military past. It wasn't an out of control band.

“And what are you going to do now, rest for a while I hope?” Leila asked.

“I called McPherson, who is convening a meeting the day after tomorrow. He told me that he is planning an expedition the coming month.”

Leila protested moaning about the anxieties her only daughter exposed her to. Jorge, who until then had kept silence, cut off abruptly.

“You are thinking about the consequences that it will have on you, and not actually in your daughter” then turning to his granddaughter he asked her about something that had intrigued him “but tell me who is that man that picked you up and took you to Cancun?”

Teresa blushed briefly and momentarily lost her composure, but then regained it and her usual self-security.

“Grandfather, as well as Mom just thinks about herself, you are still acting like a jealous Bedouin” Leila shook her head offended, she would have never addressed her parents in that way, but Teresa was not Leila. Don Jorge, instead of getting angry laughed loudly.

“This is my granddaughter certainly! But don´t you get away from my question, who is that man?”

Teresa did an aseptic and refined version of the relationship with Marcelo, feeling a little overwhelmed by hiding the truth and her feelings to her most intimate family.

“Then, was not a typical, petulant and cocky Argentine?” Don Jorge insisted.

Teresa, not used to give anyone explanations about her life, abruptly changed the topic of conversation, which only managed to increase her grandfather´s curiosity, which however remained in silence, convinced that he could get more details when they were alone with her granddaughter.

Two days later, Teresa drove her small and low profile Honda up to the University. When approaching the pavilion where they gathered usually she crossed with Lupita, who warmly greeted her. Lupita was Guatemalan, companion in the period in which they were studying together, and since then Teresa´s intimate friend and confidant.

“What news has been in my absence?” Teresa inquired.

“Well, you will see “answered elusively Lupita.

Teresa was rather surprised for not receiving a straight answer to her question, but she ignored the subject of for the moment. Arriving at the meeting room she was greeted by several of her companions, with whom she had shared many expeditions in the past. Talk revolved around her adventure in Yucatan, which had transpired in the cloisters from some isolated journalistic news. All demanded her explanations and clarifications on the matter.

After a while Magnus McPherson entered, with his usual campaign outfit, accompanied by a very young woman of strong Oriental features. Teresa looked inquiringly at Lupita, who resignedly said.

“I'm sorry, this is Magnus´ new conquest; the girl is called Nyoman, she is from Bali, Indonesia” Lupita looked at her askance fearing to see an expression of fury attributable to jealousy in the face of her friend, but was surprised to find instead an enigmatic smile and a relaxed face, as out of relief. She was trying to figure out how to inquire about the reason for this unexpected reaction when the thunderous voice of McPherson called the dozen of concurrent to a meeting.

“Well, it seems that we will finally learn what the gringo is planning” said Lupita.

McPherson, talking in Spanish with a slight American accent, began a laborious explanation of the objectives of the enterprise. Taking advantage of the removal and expulsion of the guerrillas in certain areas of South America, Yale University was organizing a long delayed expedition in search of the Great Paititi. When he mentioned the name of the target, a whisper toured the room.

The Paititi or Gran Paititi is one of the most persistent myths that date back to the time of the Spanish conquest and colonization of South America, along with those of the City of the Caesars and Eldorado. They all refer to fabulous cities, full of gold and riches, whose track would have been lost in the mists of time, more or less contemporarily with said Spanish conquest.

There seems to be an irresistible romantic impulse in the human soul that leads it to finding lost cities and times, invariably idealized through the prism of the legend. All of them have caused countless expeditions, in general of adventurers eager of treasures, many of whom have succumbed in the attempts. The location of each of these lost cities has always been very diffuse, with large distances between the different alleged locations according to the sources in which each version originated.

In particular the Gran Paititi has been pictured as lost to the East of the Andes Mountain Range, either in valleys hidden in the cold high jungle of Central Peru, or in tropical rainforests within a wide area ranging from the eastern part of that country, Bolivia, and either North or West of Brazil. Also regarding the origins there are different versions, from some who attribute it to Ikarri, sort of mythical founder of cities at the beginning of the Inca era, who would have built it in the jungles of Pantiacolla, up to to the status of sanctuary of Incas exiled in later times.

Throughout history, the Paititi legend has attracted expeditions of scientific nature as well as moves caused by greed, among which the most renowned was the one led by Percy Harrison Fawcett in 1925, in the Mato Grosso, in Brazil, with a sad end.

It is this city Magnus McPherson referred to in our narrative.

“Today, I think the more likely hypotheses is that relates to a temporary source of Gran Paititi in the early days of the Inca Empire, not long after the Foundation of Cusco by the hero Inkarri “McPherson leisurely voice glided on the issues, in a perfect Spanish that betrayed to the regular lecturer “Other theories describe it a haven of the Inca royalty after the collapse of the Empire and the Spanish conquest. The latter, although very much in vogue since the discovery of Machu Picchu, leaves many aspects without clarifying.

The dissertation continued long, rambling about the reasons that supported this hypothesis, written and oral sources making reference to Paititi, comparison with the legend of El Dorado in Colombia, the power in the Inca Empire and the role that the city would have played in the management of the Tawantisuyu. Finally, he addressed the subject that everyone was waiting for, the location of the ruins.

“I disagree with the classical location of Paititi in southeastern Peru, in the area of Pantiacolla and the Manu National Park or elsewhere in the Peruvian Department Madre de Dios. My research points more to the North, the Valley of the Marañón River, on the border between Brazil and Peru, on the eastern slopes of the Andes, in the yungas area.

McPherson then tried to change the subject, giving instructions of logistics type for the expedition and camps, but a voice arose among the public silent hitherto.

“Professor, could you not give more details about the alleged location of Paititi?”

The American smiled and replied with candor.

“That is the true one million dollars secret, in fact much more than one million. As you can imagine, many researchers have spent fortunes to find it, and some have lost their lives in the attempt. Those who choose to join me will learn more at the right time.”

As open questions session, another student asked:

“What's true in the version that the Vatican possesses the exact location of Paititi, and jealously guards the secret?”

“Well, given that as you say they keep it zealously, I do not know what to answer you. You would have to ask them, but don't expect many answers.”

At the end of the meeting, some of the students packed around McPherson to score in the Group of collaborators that would accompany him. They were six people, all of them young, including Teresa and Lupita. As he saw Teresa the man momentarily hesitated and blushed. She looked sideways at the new mistress of McPherson, who was by his side; reluctantly she should recognize that it was a true beauty within its type; the professor was known for his tendency to exoticism and has had the most diverse races girl lovers. Teresa pretended not to notice his embarrassment or the eyes of fire of the Balinese, and simply proceeded to sign up on the list.

Upon returning home, Teresa sat down at her computer and immediately opened her email. Within the multiple messages arrived there was one of Marcelo Ferrand. Exercising willpower she forced herself to read them sequentially. When it opened that of the man, she could not hide a satisfied smile. Marcelo confirmed he would take vacation and would accompany her on the trip to Peru that the young woman had already anticipated him. Consequently he wondered which the exact date was, and which the meeting point, things that Teresa at that point of time could already answer.

As she was writing to Marcelo, a lot of things disorderly came to her mind: what happened in Yucatan, physical love in the hotel of Cancun, confidences made by both, the expectations placed on each other. In contrast, her thoughts returned to McPherson. Teresa wondered what had she seen in the bland gringo in a relationship that had lasted six months. Obviously, new experiences and new relationships established put the former under a new perspective. She proceeded to reply to Marcelo´s message, and did not try to hide her eagerness to reconnect.

It remained to settle the issue of enrolling the young man in the cast of the members of the expedition. McPherson always kept the amount of personnel as low as possible, due to the costs and the logistical effort that meant having a large group of people in a rural environment, where there would be few opportunities for livelihoods. Teresa knew that her previous relationship with the teacher gave her a certain margin of extortion. She expected a certain degree of teacher resistance to a neophyte in the group, but faced with the predictable question about what role would play Marcelo in the expedition; Teresa would answer Magnus that the same as Nyoman, who, as she had correctly figured out, would be part of the group.

The following days were very busy for the girl. She went shopping to replace all the equipment lost in the Yucatan, including the tent (which she acquired with enough capacity for two people staying comfortable), sleeping bag, hat and rustic clothes for the jungle and warm apparel apt for the mountain climate.

At night she replied a new message of Marcelo, in which he consulted her about which gear to carry, given the fact that his experience was essentially in camps in areas of cold lakes and mountains in the South of Argentina, and not so much in jungle regions. Teresa answered the questions, ending with a phrase.

“... and do not worry about bringing a tent or carpa, as you call it. I will take care of that. Bring instead the sleeping bag that you say you use in Bariloche, since in the yunga nights are cold.”