Salta: MAAM and More

Both of my guidebooks recommend Museo de Arqueología de Alta Montaña as a must-see in Salta. Neither of the books is generous with its must-see designations, so I felt I had to go.

(In these pages, you’ll often read mentions of my walking tour app. It doesn’t have a guide for Salta. However, in places where it doesn’t have guides, it often has short articles from various contributors about that place; there are two for Salta. Both mention MAAM as something to take in.)

The museum abbreviates its name to MAAM, probably because the museum would need to expand its physical space if it spelled the name in full in every instance.

Except in the heading below, I will use MAAM exclusively here because I’m a lazy good-for-nothing. I’m proud of being a lazy good-for-nothing. If I weren’t lazy, then the reason I’m good for nothing would probably be that I’m always actively bad. If that were the case, I would rightfully be ashamed of myself because I don’t think I’m inherently evil.

MAAM doesn’t open until 11:00 in the morning, which gave me time to do other stuff in the morning. That other stuff included a lot of sitting in the main square kitty-corner to my hotel, Plaza 9 de Julio, and visiting a historical building and the outside of a convent.

I also had some time after MAAM and before lunch to do some more sitting in the square—where I used my phone to enter some of these words into this page—and do some more random rambling around central Salta.

On that wandering, I found two parallel pedestrian shopping streets perpendicular to the one I walked along yesterday. I walked down one and up the other. You’ve gotta love this town. Well, okay. You don’t gotta—or got to—but it’s strongly advised. Otherwise, you’ll end up miserable and hateful for the rest of your life.

Centro Culture América

I’ve got to admit that, in these days of Trump, going anywhere with the word “América” in it, even with the accent, discomforts me. But it probably refers to the continent rather than the country. Plus, it’s free, so there’s no chance of any money going to Trumplandia.

I’d read that Centro Culture América is worth a quick look. I agree with that.

The building, which is immediately across the street from Plaza 9 de Julio, was built between 1721 and 1723 as a church. In 1913, it became a prominent social club. Then, the Argentinian government took it over in 1987.

My guidebook said it is now an administrative building. I have my doubts. There didn’t seem to be any administration going on. Most of the rooms were open for the public to roam around. When I was there, the public was me. The only other person I saw in the building was a guy sitting at a desk by the door asking me to print my name, the time, and where I was from in a register. He then waved me on inside.

Another thing that my guidebook told me is that there are rotating art exhibits in the lobby. I was disappointed. The art exhibits were stationary. And I didn’t see any mechanism upon which they could rotate. Maybe the rotator is out for repairs.

The art was mostly unimpressive (to my eye) sketches, drawings, and wood relief carvings. The ground floor also contains a room with a stage up front, although there were no seats or other furniture in the room.

A floor above that contained a room with some old sitting-room furniture.

What makes the Centro Culture América worth a quick look are the stained glass windows at the top of the staircase and on the ceiling. They were refined and beautiful.

Convento de San Bernardo

My guidebooks recommend visiting Convento d San Bernardo, but only from the outside. It still operates as a convent. Only Carmelite nuns can enter.

I thought about becoming a Carmelite nun so I could take a gander at the interior, but that seemed impractical. I mean, there are probably entry requirements into the nunhood that would take longer than I had. And then there’s that whole sex-change thing I’d have to go through because nuns are women.

I wasn’t impressed with the exterior. The building is L-shaped, with a short base to the L. It’s very boxy, with just one stub of a tower, which is atop the base of the L. There are also a few simple gewgaws on the front edge of the roof. The building has a few doors. Very few windows face the street. (Hopefully, there are more windows on the other side, maybe on a courtyard not visible from the street. I imagine that too much gloom would get depressing.)

The walls are a kind of sand-colour and could have done with some sprucing up.

One door at the end of the long part of the L was open, but it was blocked by a table displaying wares that the nuns sell. Most were items like crosses on chains and crosses not on chains, but there was also a shelf of unlabeled bottles filled with what looked like honey. A woman clad in street clothes (I don’t think she was a nun) stood behind the table, presumably ready to make a sale if someone were so inclined.

The convent is about a 10-minute walk from Plaza 9 de Julio, and I don’t think it was worth the walk on a warm day like today. Sorry about that, Convento de San Bernardo.

Museo de Arqueología de Alta Montaña (MAAM)

MAAM, the full name of which translates to “Museum of High Altitude Archaeology” in English, is a very small, niche museum across the street from Plaza 9 de Julio (many of Salta’s tourist sights are just across one of the streets around the square) and just a couple of doors down from the Centro Cultural América. I suppose I could have simplified my typing for the couple of times I used the full name by going with the English name of the museum, but MHAA is just initials rather than an acronym, and it doesn’t roll off the tongue the way MAAM does, does it, ma’am?

There is a sign at the entrance stating, in Spanish and English, that the museum maintains low light levels and a temperature of 18°C and that photos and videos are not allowed.

When I got to the ticket window, I asked the ticket seller if I could take pictures without using a flash. With a look of regret on his face, he told me no. When I got to the ticket taker, he, without any prompting whatsoever, said, “No photo; no video.”

Inside, there was a sign with a camera-with-flash icon in a circle with a red slash through it. Just below that was a camera-without-a-flash icon with a red slash through it. You know, I might be reading too much into it, but I don’t think they want people to take pictures of any kind in the museum.

So, the only picture I’ll post here is one of the museum’s exterior, and it’s a lousy one because there was scaffolding up in front of the building.

There is considerable text in the museum, the vast majority of which has both Spanish and English versions. The exhibit starts with a short video that has no spoken narration, but Spanish and English subtitles. The video is actual footage of a mountain archaeological expedition on a snow-capped peak (see next paragraph).

MAAM focuses tightly on the Capacocha ritual child sacrifice practiced by the Incas to appease the gods. The museum has three bodies that were recovered by an archaeological expedition to the peak of a volcanic mountain, Llullaillaco. The three bodies found were aged six, seven, and about fifteen. Because of the dry, frigid air at the mountaintop, the bodies were found perfectly preserved. Almost perfectly. The face of one, the six-year-old girl, had been slightly damaged by a lightning strike. She’s been nicknamed Lightning Girl.

MAAM displays only one of the bodies at a time, changing them every six months. Lighting Girl was on exhibit when I was there. It’s amazing how well-preserved she was. Her eyes were closed. Her face bore a peaceful countenance. Her mouth was open, with her upper lip arched, exposing her teeth. She was wearing a plain, almost blanket-like piece of clothing wrapped around her body below her head.

Here’s the explanation of the child sacrifices as told by the text at the museum:

The Incan ruler of a town used to marry one of his young daughters to the son of a chief of another town to cement relations between the towns. The child newlyweds were dressed in their finest outfits, processed around one of the town squares (I forget if it was the town of the bride or the groom), and given a ritual alcoholic drink made from corn. When they fell asleep, they were buried with some ritual figurines given to them for their wedding.

The Incas believed that the children sacrificed didn’t die but, rather, were united with their ancestors. I don’t want to be disrespectful of the Incas, but I’m calling BS on that. Do I need to point out that the ancestors are already deceased? How could the child sacrifices be united with them without also dying?

It’s thinking like that that causes civilizations to die off.

In addition to the body, MAAM also displays some of the equipment from the archaeological expedition and some of the ritual items that were buried with the sacrificed children.

MAAM has a website. I provided a link in the preceding sentence, but when I visited it, the site had a single, unadorned sentence that the translation function translated to “this website is under maintenance.” Maybe the maintenance will be done when you look. Or perhaps they recognized who surfed to the page, and their system blocked the page for only me.