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The Mummy's JourneyPart 5 (back to Part 4) We drive though dry mountains and small villages encircled by rock walls and terraced crops. Green fields of wheat stand out in this otherwise dry landscape, but if you scour the slopes you might catch a glimpse of red cactus flowers and blue lupine. Occasionally we get out of the bus to help it over the steep passes. Dust starts to creep into our eyes, ears, and mouths—it's so thick on the road that it completely covers our boots in a weightless layer, like fresh powder snow in the Rockies. Looking back toward Sara Sara, we see long lenticular clouds, indicating extremely high winds on the summit. We're all unabashedly grateful to be off the volatile slopes of Sara Sara. Before long, a distinct banging can be heard on the roof. Jokes abound about the mummy coming to life and trying to break loose from her icy constraints. We stop in the village of Salla Salla on the south side of the mountain to fix the rapidly deteriorating roof rack, which is breaking up under the weight of our equipment and the mummy. Everything is taken off the roof, except for the mummy, and put inside. The thought of putting the rotting, melting mummy inside the bus with us isn't even suggested. The scene soon turns surreal as we limp out of Salla Salla in the mid-day sun on a bus that can't go uphill, with a 500-year old mummy slowly melting on the rooftop. 
We take the high plains route to the coast to avoid steep
passes. There are no trees except for the occasional
eucalyptus planted near an abandoned village. I watch dreamily
as we pass by a village where two children and a dog are
seemingly the only inhabitants. They appear to be flying a
kite—I can see them holding on tightly to a ball of
string that stretches taughtly up into the sky. When I look
back seconds later it seems as though the moon is attached to
the end of the string—only here could children fly the
moon with a home-made kite on a lazy afternoon.
Sarita Takes Public TransportExactly 12 hours after our departure from Quilcata, we slowly motor into Chala, a seaside town on the Pan American Highway. It looks like the red light district, with garrish neon lights illuminating seedy-looking eateries and bars. Shifty characters size up our bus loaded with Gringos and an absurd amount of gear. Eyes wander to the large round bundle sitting alone on the roof. I silently bet that no one could guess it's a 7 year old Inca girl. Our first luck of the day finally strikes when we discover there's a public bus ready to leave for Arequipa. It is scheduled to drive through the night and arrive at 5:30 a.m. We jump at the chance to get off the snail-paced time warp machine and throw our 36 duffles and cases plus one mummy into the cargo holds of the bus. We sail through the night to introduce Sarita to the last decade of the 20th century. Check back next week to find out how they plan to preserve Sarita. The Ascent | Digging in Thin Air | The Mummy's Journey | Preserving the Past Expedition '96 | Dispatches | Mummies | Lost Worlds | Mail Resources | Site Map | Ice Mummies of the Inca Home | BBC Horizon Editor's Picks | Previous Sites | Join Us/E-mail | TV/Web Schedule About NOVA | Teachers | Site Map | Shop | Jobs | Search | To print PBS Online | NOVA Online | WGBH © | Updated November 2000 |