“Until life brings us together again” 

An interview with the curator of Tupananchiskama: Ancient Andean Cosmovision

Laura Morales Padilla (she/her) // Editor-in-Chief

The Andes are a mountain range—the longest in the world—that defines the horizons of seven South American countries. Yet remarkably, the ancient cultures that thrived across different times and regions of this continent’s backbone shared worldviews that are embedded in current traditions. Tupananchiskama: Ancient Andean Cosmovision is an exhibition that transports visitors to the pre-Columbian era, where they are surrounded by the sounds of ancient instruments and encounter objects that embody these cultures’ knowledge and beliefs, some dating back more than 2,500 years.

“Pottery is not only pottery. This can be the atlas, the encyclopedia,” explained Luis Manuel González, guest curator at the Museum of Anthropology (MOA) and adjunct professor of the Department of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia (UBC). González inaugurated this exhibition on March 19, 2026, along with MOA’s curator, Nuno Porto. “Here we have mountains coming to the level of the sea,” he said, pointing out the geography knowledge behind a pottery piece, one of nearly one hundred ceramic, textile, bone and wood works that will be on display at MOA until January 3, 2027.

From the many Indigenous languages spoken by Andean communities, Quechua was one of the most widely used for communication between groups, a role that grew significantly with the expansion of the Inca Empire. Varieties of this language are still spoken in over half of South American countries across the Andes. Tupananchiskama is a Quechua word that means “until life brings us together again,” according to MOA’s description, and it “reflects an ancestral view of life and death as part of a continuous cycle,” given that death, in Andean philosophy, is not an end but a transformation. González referred to the serpent figure at the entrance of the exhibition as a representation of this cyclical duality and complementarity of time.

Another important concept in Andean cosmovision is Ayni: a form of reciprocity. According to the Cambridge Dictionary, reciprocity is a “behaviour in which two people or groups of people give each other help and advantages,” but Ayni operates on a different, less transactional logic. People help each other without any expectations other than contributing to a long-term communal support system they can trust. Ayni works when everyone does the same, González explained.

In an interview with the Courier, MOA’s guest curator explained the difference between talking about Indigenous cultures and Andean cultures, how to learn from the knowledge of ancient civilizations without romanticizing them, and what some principles of Andean cosmovision look like in a contemporary context. Mirroring the exhibition’s bilingual materials, González’s answers—paraphrased for brevity—are shared below in both languages.

Courier: Es fácil romantizar el Ayni, pero como dijiste, las culturas andinas estaban lejos de ser perfectas. ¿Cómo funcionaba el Ayni en la práctica y qué podemos aprender de eso?

Courier: Ayni is easy to romanticize, but as you mentioned, Andean cultures were far from perfect. How did Ayni actually work in practice, and what can we learn from that?

González: Es un reto grande porque la reciprocidad normalmente es entre iguales, entre la comunidad. Pero siempre hay alguien o un grupo que quiere más y ahí ya no hay reciprocidad, hay enfrentamiento. Pero lo que veo en los Andes es que, a pesar de los conflictos, la cosmovisión se mantuvo. Por ejemplo, la chacana o el Dios de los báculos de la Puerta del Sol también se ven en Chavín. Es decir, más allá de los conflictos, hay una forma de entender el mundo que viajó incluso entre grupos que no estaban de acuerdo. 

A diferencia de Europa, África y Asia, que tuvieron mucho intercambio y represión, en Sudamérica hubo una interacción similar pero entre nosotros. Sudamérica era como una isla interconectada. Se aprendió de los errores, y se transmitió conocimiento de una ciudad a otra a través de las caravanas de camélidos. Las personas no solo llevaban mercancías, sino también ideología, su entendimiento del mundo. Se guiaban por las estrellas y las montañas. Así viajaban no solo productos, sino ideas, formas de entender, gustos, sabores… algo mucho más grande.

González: It’s a big challenge because reciprocity is normally between equals, within the community. But there is always someone or a group that wants more, and then there is no longer reciprocity, there is confrontation. However, what I see in the Andes is that, despite the conflicts, the cosmovision remained. For example, the Chacana or the Dios de los báculos from the Gate of the Sun can also be seen in Chavín. That is to say, beyond the conflicts, there is a way of understanding the world that traveled even among groups that did not agree with each other. 

Unlike Europe, Africa, and Asia, which had a lot of exchange and repression, in South America there was a similar interaction but among ourselves. South America was like an interconnected island. They learned from mistakes, and knowledge was transmitted from one city to another through camelid caravans. People carried not only goods but also ideology, their understanding of the world. They guided themselves by the stars and the mountains. That’s how not only products traveled, but also ideas, ways of understanding, tastes, flavors… something much greater.

Courier: ¿Te parece que en tiempos más contemporáneos todavía existe el Ayni?

Courier: Do you think that in more contemporary times Ayni still exists?

González: Yo creo que sí, por ejemplo en Perú tenemos ahora algunas tradiciones modernas que representan eso. Cuando mi papá era más pequeño, me decía que cuando iban a limpiar la acequia, toda la comunidad salía y ayudaba. También cuando alguien iba a construir su casa y quería hacer el siguiente piso, llegaban los amigos para ayudar y llevar comida. En tiempos más modernos, por ejemplo, cuando alguien que está enfermo y no tiene recursos, hacen comidas, y la familia o los amigos compran esa comida para que tengan un ingreso. Entonces, de repente no lo reconocemos como Ayni porque la velocidad de la modernidad hace que no sea tanto como “sí, me ayudó sin interés”, pero sí creo que está impregnado en nuestra tradición.

González: I think so. For example, in Peru we now have some modern traditions that represent that. When my father was little, he told me that when they went to clean the irrigation ditch, the whole community would come out and help. Also, when someone was going to build their house and wanted to add the next floor, friends would come to help and bring food. In more modern times, for example, when someone is sick and has no resources, they prepare a lot of food, and family or friends buy that food so they can have an income. So, maybe we don’t recognize it as Ayni because the speed of modernity makes it less like “yes, they helped me selflessly,” but I do believe it is ingrained in our tradition.

Courier: En la exposición no usaste la palabra indígenas para describir a las culturas, sino la palabra “andinas”, ¿cuál es la diferencia?

Courier: In the exhibition, you didn’t use the word “Indigenous” to describe the cultures, but rather “Andean.” What is the difference?

González: Uno de los retos para la exposición era que, siendo de Perú y con orígenes indígenas o andinos, no quería tocar nada que pudiera ser sensible para otros países. Por eso traté de no hablar de Perú, sino de lo andino, que se repite en otros lugares. La idea es que todos compartimos un mismo origen, pero ciertas palabras pueden cambiar todo el sentido. Por ejemplo, si hablara de “indígena,” sería distinto en cada lugar porque hay mezclas, conexiones del pasado, gente que vino de otras partes, como los vikingos que contactaron con nativos del norte. Tuvimos tanto impacto durante la colonia, la conquista, que en cierta forma somos, pero no somos. No somos de un solo lugar, sino una nueva interpretación. El término “indígena” podría categorizar a alguien que quizá no se identifica como tal. En cambio, los andinos somos todos los que crecemos en los Andes. Por eso fui cuidadoso en usar un término que nos une geográficamente y sin otras connotaciones.

González: One of the challenges for the exhibition was that, being from Peru and with indigenous or Andean origins myself, I didn’t want to touch anything that could be sensitive for other countries. That’s why I tried not to talk about Peru, but rather about the Andean, which is repeated in other places. The idea is that we all share the same origin, but certain words can completely change the meaning. For example, if I spoke of “Indigenous,” it would be different in each place because there are mixtures, connections from the past, people who came from other parts, like the Vikings who contacted Indigenous communities in the north. We experienced so much impact during the colonial period, the conquest, that in a certain way we are, but we aren’t. We are not from a single place, but rather a new interpretation. The term “Indigenous” could categorize someone who perhaps does not identify as such. In contrast, the Andean are all of us who grow up in the Andes. That’s why I was careful to use a term that unites us geographically, without other connotations.

If you want to learn more about Andean cosmovision, join MOA’s Not-Your-Average Tours: Tupananchiskama at 7 p.m. on April 30, May 28, June 25 or September 24. More information here.