Sillustani is an archaeological site and pre-Hispanic funerary complex located on the Umayo peninsula, in Atuncolla District, Puno Province, southern Peru. It is known mainly for its chullpas, funerary towers built by highland societies before and during the Inca period.[1]
The complex stands on the eastern shore of Lake Umayo, about 31 km from the city of Puno, and occupies the esplanade and slopes of a peninsula from which the surrounding landscape can be widely seen.[2] The official record of the Ministry of Foreign Trade and Tourism lists an approximate area of 60 hectares and 91 funerary towers, as well as terraces, corrals, stairways, monoliths, intiwatanas, quilcas and other archaeological remains distributed across the peninsula.[1]
Sillustani formed part of the cultural sphere of the highland lordships and became especially important during the development of Colla society. The site was later incorporated into Inca rule, a process reflected in funerary buildings that differ in technique, scale and finish.[3]
The site is also relevant for the history of its research and conservation. In 1971, during cleaning and restoration work, the find known as the Treasure of Sillustani was recorded. This group of archaeological objects was associated with the Lizard chullpa and was later studied as part of the funerary assemblage of a high-ranking Qolla person.[4]
Because of its monumentality, the concentration of funerary towers and its relationship with Hatuncolla and Lake Umayo, Sillustani is considered one of the most representative examples of the chullpa phenomenon in the Lake Titicaca highlands.[5]
Etymology
The name Sillustani is usually explained from Quechua and Aymara terms related to the word sillu, “fingernail”, and to expressions associated with a smooth or slippery surface. A widespread interpretation translates the toponym as “fingernail slide”, alluding to the polished and fitted stone blocks of some chullpas.[1]
This etymological explanation should be understood as a traditional interpretation of the place name. In tourist and institutional bibliography it has been preserved mainly because of its relationship with the finish of the stone walls, especially in the best-made chullpas.
Location and setting
The archaeological complex is located in the populated center of Umayo, within Atuncolla District, on a peninsula surrounded by Lake Umayo. The altitude recorded for the tourist resource is 3,902 meters above sea level.[1] Its location on a natural rise gives a broad view over the lake and surrounding plateau.
The setting combines natural and archaeological features. Terraces, corrals, rocky outcrops and construction remains can be seen on the slopes and edges of the peninsula. The location of the cemetery in a visible, elevated place has been interpreted as part of the Andean relationship between funerary architecture, landscape, ancestral memory and social authority.[6]
Present access is from the city of Puno and the Puno-Juliaca road, with a final route toward Atuncolla and the entrance area of the complex. Visits to the site are connected both with archaeological interest and with observation of the Lake Umayo landscape.[1]
The Umayo peninsula is not merely the physical base of the chullpas. The concentration of funerary structures, internal paths, terraces and open spaces suggests a landscape organization oriented toward ceremonial circulation and the visibility of the monuments. This arrangement allows the towers to be perceived from different approaches to the site and from the lake itself, reinforcing their role as territorial landmarks. Landscape analyses in the western Lake Titicaca basin have noted that chullpas tend to be placed in highly visible areas, connected with places of occupation and with economically important spaces such as Lake Umayo.[7]
This landscape dimension is central to understanding the social function of the complex. At Sillustani, funerary architecture is not separated from the lake, the rocky outcrops or the access routes; rather, the monumentality of the towers is intensified by their visual exposure. The modern visitor crosses a space that in pre-Hispanic times must have worked through approaches, changing perspectives and points of ritual concentration.
The relationship between death, visibility and territory can also be seen in other chullpa groups in the Titicaca basin. For that reason, analysis of Sillustani requires combining architectural description with questions about circulation, memory and symbolic control of space. This reading helps explain why the towers were built as elevated and durable buildings, rather than as hidden or purely domestic burials.
Organization of the complex
The complex brings together a main group of monumental chullpas and other smaller structures distributed across different sectors of the peninsula. Mincetur records 91 funerary towers, including chullpas of dressed stone, chullpas of rustic masonry and structures with mud or kaolinite coating.[1]
Terraces, corrals, stairways, monoliths, enclosures and outcrops with quilcas are preserved beside the towers. These elements show that Sillustani was not an isolated cemetery, but an archaeological landscape composed of funerary areas, transit spaces, observation points and sectors possibly associated with ritual activities or maintenance of the site.
The internal organization of the complex also reveals differences in scale and finish among the structures. Some chullpas stand out for their height, the fine treatment of their blocks and the presence of reliefs; others are lower and more simply built. Researchers have used this variety to discuss chronological differences, cultural affiliations and forms of social hierarchy in the pre-Hispanic highlands.[1]
Oscar Ayca Gallegos proposed an integral reading of the site in which Sillustani appears as a group with differentiated sectors, its own architectural vocabulary and evidence associated with several cultural traditions of the highlands.[8] This approach is important because it views the complex beyond the most famous towers: it includes paths, quarries, work spaces, dwelling remains, terraces and funerary areas of different scale.
The presence of quarries and blocks in different stages of preparation has been used to discuss construction processes and the possible interruption of some works. In this sense, Sillustani preserves not only completed buildings but also traces of technical work, stone transport and labor organization linked to monumental funerary construction.[9]
History and cultural occupation
Sillustani has evidence of occupations associated with different cultural moments in the highlands. Official information from the Ministry of Culture notes the presence of materials linked to Tiwanaku nearby, as well as later occupation connected with the Qolla Kingdom, approximately between the 12th and 15th centuries.[2]
During the Late Intermediate Period, the northern Titicaca basin was inhabited by Colla populations organized across a broad and politically complex territory. Although colonial chronicles describe the Collas as a powerful and relatively centralized lordship, recent archaeological research has nuanced that image by noting several regional hierarchies, local identities and fortified sites or pukaras in the Colla area.[10]
The area of Hatuncolla, near Sillustani, is central to understanding the incorporation of the highlands into Inca rule. Catherine Julien studied Hatuncolla as a case for analyzing Inca government in the Titicaca region, taking into account archaeology, ceramics, colonial documents and local political organization.[11] This regional relationship helps explain why Sillustani should be read in connection with nearby political networks, roads, settlements and administrative centers.
In this context, Sillustani functioned as one of the major funerary centers of the highlands. De la Vega and Stanish connect it with the Colla lordship and compare it with Cutimbo, associated with the Lupaqa sphere, as part of a network of funerary and ceremonial centers that convened practices of ancestor worship.[6]
With the expansion of the Inca Empire, the highlands were incorporated into Collasuyu. At Sillustani, this integration appears in the coexistence of local masonry chullpas and more elaborately finished buildings, with dressed blocks and architectural traits associated with Cuzco patterns.[1]
The regional history of Titicaca, synthesized by Stanish, shows that the highlands had a long sequence of political and economic development before the Inca conquest, with complex societies, agro-pastoral systems, interregional interaction and long-lasting ceremonial centers.[12] In that framework, Sillustani represents a late phase of funerary monumentalization, but rests on older social and ritual traditions of the basin.
After the collapse of Tiwanaku, the highlands did not become an empty or culturally uniform space. Archaeological evidence shows the formation of regional societies with fortified centers, disputed territories and local forms of authority. In the Colla area, the pukaras studied by Arkush show a period marked by political competition, conflict and social reorganization before Inca incorporation.[13]
Sillustani should be placed within this process. Its monumental chullpas express not only funerary practices but also the capacity of certain groups to mobilize labor, select materials, occupy dominant places in the landscape and assert links with prestigious ancestors. When the Inca state incorporated the Collao, these local practices did not disappear immediately; they were reorganized and, in some cases, reinforced through architectural forms associated with imperial power.[14]
The proximity of Hatuncolla is important because it connects the monumental cemetery with a larger political territory. Research on Inca government in the region shows that imperial control of Titicaca was not limited to occupying isolated places, but articulated settlements, roads, administrative centers, local populations and ritual spaces. In that framework, Sillustani can be read as a funerary monument within a broader political geography, linked to local elites and to the reorganization of the Collao under Cuzco rule.[15]
The coexistence of local and Inca traits explains why the cultural affiliation of the site is usually treated as a historical process, not as a simple choice between “Colla” and “Inca”. Sillustani was used, transformed and reinterpreted in a context of political change. Its structures show continuity of highland practices, but also interventions that incorporated technical and visual resources associated with Inca power. This mixed condition is one of the keys to its archaeological importance.[16]
Regional context of the chullpas
Chullpas are not exclusive to Sillustani. They are part of a funerary tradition spread across the Titicaca basin and other zones of the southern Andean highlands. John Hyslop studied these structures in the Lupaqa zone and defined them as elevated funerary constructions used between the 12th and 16th centuries by members of highland elites.[17]
Regional comparison makes it possible to better understand Sillustani’s place. In the highlands there are chullpas with circular, quadrangular or mixed plans, built with undressed stone, dressed blocks, adobe, mud or combinations of materials. Architectural variation does not respond to a single cause: it may express chronological differences, local identities, social rank, material availability and different ways of relating to ancestors.
Recent research on funerary practices of the Late Intermediate Period in the Titicaca basin notes that the monumental chullpas of sites such as Sillustani and Cutimbo incorporate carved blocks in Inca style, although most highland funerary structures were more rustic and were built with undressed stone.[18] This observation helps avoid a uniform reading of the phenomenon: Sillustani represents an especially monumental and visible version of a broader funerary tradition.
Francisco Gil García has proposed reading the chullpa phenomenon as a process of semantic construction that moved from colonial descriptions of great tombs to archaeological interpretations centered on lineage, memory, landscape and territorial legitimation.[19] From that perspective, chullpas are not simple containers of human remains, but constructions with a strong visual and social charge.
Duchesne and Chacama, in a comparative study of funerary towers of the south-central Andes, emphasize the heterogeneity of these structures and warn that the practice of placing bodies in elevated, visible and accessible tombs does not imply complete uniformity in funerary practice.[20] This observation is useful for Sillustani, where different techniques and finishes coexist within the same ceremonial landscape.
Research by Kesseli and Pärssinen in the Pakasa highlands has shown that architectural styles of chullpas can be related to ethnic identities, territories and forms of local power.[21] Although their case study corresponds to the Bolivian highlands, it provides a comparative framework for understanding why formal differences at Sillustani may have social and not only technical meaning.
In the Puno highlands, recent studies on the chullpas of Kelluyo have highlighted the use of these structures as visual and symbolic elements linked to Inca presence in territories previously occupied by local societies.[22] This comparison reinforces the reading of Sillustani as a space where the local funerary tradition was reworked under conditions of domination and interaction with the Inca state.
Another important regional parallel is Cutimbo, a monumental funerary site in Puno associated with the Lupaqa sphere. Tantaleán has shown that its chullpas and associated areas allow discussion of social asymmetries, Inca occupation and strategies of legitimation by local elites.[23] The comparison between Cutimbo and Sillustani shows that the funerary towers of the highlands participated in differentiated political processes, even while sharing a common monumental language.
Comparison with Cutimbo, Kelluyo, Pakasa and other south-central Andean groups prevents Sillustani from being isolated as a monumental rarity. Its singularity lies in scale, conservation and concentration of evidence, but its logic belongs to a broad funerary tradition. In that tradition, chullpas could operate as mausoleums, territorial markers, lineage emblems and supports for collective memory.
This comparative perspective also helps correct a purely Inca reading of the site. Although some towers show finishes associated with the imperial horizon, the chullpa phenomenon predates Cuzco’s expansion and developed in highland societies with their own trajectories. Sillustani is therefore a place of intersection between local tradition, regional competition and Inca state intervention.
Ritual and funerary function
The chullpas of Sillustani were mausoleums intended for high-ranking individuals and groups linked by lineage relations. The funerary function of the site is expressed in the preparation of interior chambers, the arrangement of funerary bundles or mummified bodies and the placement of offerings, food, ceramics, metals and other goods associated with the deceased.[1]
Highland funerary architecture is related to ancestor worship. In the Titicaca region, these practices were not limited to burial, but articulated social memory, political prestige and communal ritual. De la Vega and Stanish argue that Sillustani and Cutimbo convened annual pilgrimages linked to ceremonies of ancestor worship.[6]
The elevated position of the towers and their visibility from different points of the peninsula reinforce their public and ceremonial character. In this sense, chullpas were not only tombs, but monuments of authority and memory that remained active within the social landscape of highland communities.
Treatment of the dead in the late highlands was diverse. In addition to chullpas, cist tombs, semi-subterranean burials and other forms of funerary deposition are known. Velasco notes that the differences between elevated tombs and underground tombs may have reflected distinctions of status between the living and the dead, although the relationship between funerary architecture and social hierarchy is not always direct or easy to demonstrate archaeologically.[24]
In the Andean world, death did not necessarily mean the social disappearance of the individual. Mummies, bundles and burial places could preserve links with the living through rituals, offerings, visits and genealogical memory. In this framework, Sillustani can be interpreted as a space where architecture protected the dead and, at the same time, made visible the continuity of the groups that claimed them as ancestors.[25]
The collective character of several chullpas has also been noted in regional studies. Bongers, Arkush and Harrower indicate that many funerary towers of the Titicaca basin functioned as burial places for corporate groups, which helps relate them to ayllus, family memories and territories.[26]
The ritual dimension of Sillustani cannot be reduced to the moment of burial. Because of their visible and durable character, the towers could continue to function as references for later ceremonies, acts of memory and forms of legitimation by descendants. In Andean societies, ancestors were not only figures of the past: they could organize rights, hierarchies, affiliations and obligations within the community.
The possible presence of collective burials reinforces this reading. A lineage mausoleum did not represent only one individual, but a social network capable of maintaining the memory of its dead and displaying its continuity. For that reason, study of the chullpas allows an approach both to death and to the organization of the living.
Funerary architecture
The most characteristic constructions of Sillustani are the chullpas, stone towers with circular or slightly frustoconical plans. Some reach monumental dimensions and have finely dressed blocks, while others were built with irregular masonry and mud mortar.[1]
The official record of the resource distinguishes three main architectural types: chullpas with dressed-block masonry, chullpas of irregular masonry and chullpas with mud or kaolinite plaster. This diversity reflects chronological, technical and social differences within the complex.[1]
A frequent feature is the small entrance facing east, a direction symbolically associated with the sun. Because of the small size of these openings, funerary bundles are thought to have been placed inside before the final closure of the chamber. Internal chambers were built with smaller stones, while the exterior could be faced with precisely dressed blocks.[1]
Among the best-known structures is the Lizard chullpa, named for the zoomorphic relief visible on one of its blocks. The Mincetur record describes it as one of the most representative structures of the complex, with an approximate height of 12 m and a base diameter of 7.17 m.[1]
The difference between interior and exterior is one of the site’s constructive keys. In several chullpas, the inner chamber was raised with small or medium-sized stones, while the outer facing received larger and better-finished blocks. This technique made it possible to combine a functional internal structure with a more visually monumental surface.
Some chullpas have cornices, projections or zoomorphic reliefs, while others have no decoration. The presence of finely worked blocks in certain buildings has been related to the Inca period or to interventions under Cuzco influence. By contrast, the more rustic structures are usually associated with local traditions before or contemporary with Inca expansion.[1]
Sillustani’s monumentality should not be understood only as a technical matter. The selection of materials, the placement of the towers and the exterior finish communicated prestige, permanence and authority. For this reason, architectural study of the complex has become a way to analyze the relationship between power, memory and ancestry in the highlands.
Hyslop observed that Lupaqa chullpas varied in size, form, material and location, and that their study had to consider both architecture and the social context of the populations that built them.[27] Sillustani offers an especially visible case of that diversity: its towers combine local traits, regional technical solutions and interventions associated with the Inca period.
The use of finely dressed blocks should not automatically be interpreted as cultural replacement. At several highland sites, the presence of Inca-style architecture coexists with local funerary practices. Delgado González and coauthors have noted for Kelluyo that funerary architecture could operate as a visual message of state presence in territories with earlier occupations.[28] At Sillustani, this tension between local continuity and imperial influence is one of the main interpretive problems.
The construction of a monumental chullpa involved several technical stages: quarrying stone, transporting blocks, preparing visible faces, assembling the outer facing and closing the funerary chamber. The existence of loose blocks, partly worked pieces and unfinished structures has made it possible to discuss labor organization at the site and the possibility of interrupted construction projects.[29]
In the best-finished towers, the exterior takes on a communicative function. The precision of the blocks did not merely solve a structural problem; it produced an image of power, technical control and permanence. The small scale of the entrances, in contrast to the size of the building, reinforces the difference between the interior space, reserved for the funerary deposit, and the exterior, intended to be seen by the community.
Zoomorphic reliefs, cornices and projections should be understood within this visual logic. Not all chullpas have them, and for that very reason their presence in particular structures helps differentiate buildings, hierarchies and possible construction moments. The funerary architecture of Sillustani thus combines mortuary function, construction technique and symbolic language.
Quilcas and other associated elements
In addition to the chullpas, the complex preserves quilcas, or motifs engraved in stone, located on walls, tower bases, loose blocks and rocky outcrops. The study by Berenguela Sánchez and Gori Tumi Echevarría López recorded and analyzed this evidence as part of recent research connected with the enhancement of the site.[30]
The authors proposed a sequence of graphic-formal groups with different contextual and chronological relationships. Some motifs are directly associated with monumental architecture, such as the reliefs of the Lizard chullpa and the Amaru chullpa; others appear on reused blocks or in secondary contexts.[31]
These quilcas broaden the archaeological reading of Sillustani, because they show that the peninsula was not only a space of funerary architecture but also a support for graphic and symbolic expression. Their study makes it possible to relate the site to visual traditions of Tawantinsuyu, the early colonial period and other Andean regions.[32]
The presence of quilcas introduces an additional layer of interpretation because it shows uses of the site that do not depend exclusively on the large towers. The engraved motifs, their location and their relationship with reused blocks or specific structures show that Sillustani was visually intervened in different moments. For this reason, study of this evidence helps reconstruct a longer history of appropriation, resignification and memory on the peninsula.
Archaeological interpretations
The interpretation of Sillustani rests on three main problems: the chronology of the structures, the social function of the chullpas and the relationship between funerary architecture and landscape. These problems are connected. The form of a tower, its location and its finish not only allow discussion of when it was built, but also what group may have used it, how it was linked with other monuments and what kind of social message it conveyed.
One central debate concerns the reading of construction differences. Chullpas of rustic masonry, plastered towers and structures with dressed blocks do not necessarily represent a simple linear sequence. In the same funerary landscape, different techniques, remodeled buildings and projects associated with groups of different rank may have coexisted. For that reason, architectural classification must be connected with regional information, archaeological materials, comparisons with other sites and data on Inca occupation.[33][34]
Another problem is the function of the site within highland social life. Chullpas were tombs, but their role was not exhausted by containing human remains. Their elevated and visible character, their association with lineages and their possible participation in periodic ceremonies allow them to be understood as monuments of memory. De la Vega and Stanish have proposed that places such as Sillustani and Cutimbo functioned as pilgrimage centers linked to ancestor worship, broadening interpretation beyond individual burial.[35]
The relationship with the landscape is equally decisive. Spatial analyses in the western Titicaca basin have shown that many chullpas are located in highly visible positions and near resources or places of occupation. At Sillustani, this observation helps explain the choice of the Umayo peninsula: the towers were not placed in a neutral location, but in a setting where water, relief, paths and visibility reinforced their symbolic effectiveness.[36]
Research on quilcas has also modified the reading of the site. Reliefs and engravings show that Sillustani was not only a group of funerary architecture, but a space where images, rock supports and monuments participated in a complex visual history. By recording different graphic-formal groups, Sánchez and Echevarría López propose a sequence that makes it possible to observe continuities, reuse and possible moments of resignification of the site.[37]
A final interpretive aspect is caution regarding the available sources. Some structures were intervened, restored or described before current archaeological methods had been consolidated; in addition, several Andean funerary contexts were altered by looting, reuse and ancient or modern removals. Therefore, interpretation of the site distinguishes among documented data, academic proposals and traditional claims. The value of Sillustani is not reduced by these cautions; on the contrary, it becomes clearer when the limits of the evidence are presented.
Taken together, these interpretations show that Sillustani is more than a monumental cemetery. It is a case study in the way Andean societies articulated death, lineage, political power, public memory and landscape. This thematic breadth explains its relevance within Titicaca archaeology and within the heritage history of Puno.
Archaeological and anthropological research
The first modern descriptions of Sillustani were made by travelers and researchers of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Sánchez and Echevarría note that Eugène de Sartiges, Mariano Eduardo de Rivero and Johann Jakob von Tschudi, George Squier, Charles Wiener and Adolph Bandelier were among those who drew attention to the site’s monumentality.[38]
Bandelier published a specific study on the ruins of Sillustani in American Anthropologist in 1905. Although some of his interpretations, such as the idea that the towers may have functioned as storehouses, were superseded by later research, his work forms part of the early history of the site’s archaeology and documents observations on construction, blocks and unfinished structures.[39]
In the first half of the 20th century, Marion H. Tschopik published one of the early syntheses on the archaeology of the Department of Puno, within the Peabody Museum expeditions to southern Peru.[40] This type of study helped place Sillustani within a broader regional framework, together with other sites of northern Titicaca.
20th-century research also included debates on cultural affiliation, construction technique and the chronology of the chullpas. Uriel García, Luis E. Valcárcel, Emilio Vásquez, John Hyslop, Catherine Julien and Oscar Ayca Gallegos are mentioned by Sánchez and Echevarría as part of a sequence of authors who deepened the functional, architectural and cultural reading of the complex.[41]
Modern understanding of Sillustani depends to a large extent on work carried out by archaeologists, anthropologists, conservators and cultural officials. These specialists not only described the visible structures, but documented finds, recorded contexts, prepared inventories and helped place the site within a broader regional history.
One important case is the find known as the Treasure of Sillustani, recorded in 1971 during cleaning and restoration work at the complex. The act and inventory drawn up by the Corporación de Fomento y Promoción Social y Económica de Puno document the participation of specialists connected with the recording and safeguarding of the find. Among them were resident archaeologist Arturo Ruiz Estrada and archaeologist Raúl Monzón Valdez, who appear in connection with technical work carried out at Sillustani.[42]
The relevance of this kind of documentation lies in the way it turns a material find into a verifiable historical record. Thanks to those inventories, reports and later studies, Sillustani can be studied not only as an archaeological monument, but also as part of the history of anthropological research and heritage protection in Puno.[43]
In the 1990s, archaeologist Wilber Bolívar Yapura studied the Treasure of Sillustani assemblage while serving as director of the Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum. His research made it possible to reinterpret the composition of the funerary assemblage, its cultural affiliation and the possible function of its pieces within the funerary attire of a Qolla person.[44]
Research on Sillustani has developed on several levels. On the one hand, institutional work has addressed cleaning, restoration, recording and inventory of structures and materials. On the other, academic studies have connected the site with broader problems in Andean archaeology, such as the formation of regional lordships, Inca expansion, ancestor worship, funerary architecture and the production of social memory.
This double record, technical and academic, is important for the history of the site. The first level provides knowledge of concrete facts such as inventories, finds, interventions and institutional responsibilities; the second interprets those facts within larger historical processes. Together, both levels explain why Sillustani has moved from being seen as a group of monumental tombs to being understood as a complex funerary landscape.
The history of research also shows a change in questions. Early descriptions focused on the visible form of the towers, comparison with other ruins and discussion of their function. Later work incorporated material recording, chronology, regional analysis, landscape architecture, quilcas, conservation and museography. This accumulation of approaches makes it possible to understand Sillustani as a site of archaeological, historical and heritage importance.
Arturo Ruiz Estrada later published Hallazgos de oro, Sillustani (Puno), a work devoted to the assemblage discovered in the complex and to its archaeological description.[45] This publication, together with later studies by Bolívar Yapura, allowed the find to be discussed beyond the initial newspaper report and incorporated into analysis of metallurgy, funerary offerings and Qolla material culture.
Treasure of Sillustani
The Treasure of Sillustani is a group of archaeological objects found in 1971 near the Lizard chullpa. The act drawn up by CORPUNO records 501 gold pieces and two pieces of unidentified alloy, while the tourist record of the Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum describes the museographic assemblage as consisting of 1,280 objects, including 501 of gold.[42][46]
The difference between the two figures is explained by how the assemblage was counted: the act documented the initial inventory of the principal metal pieces, while later studies and museum records incorporated other associated elements, such as beads, shells, bones, ceramics and other archaeological materials.
Bolívar Yapura describes the assemblage as an offering composed mostly of objects of gold, silver, copper and Spondylus, as well as beads of lapis lazuli, bone and ceramic. Because of its formal and contextual characteristics, he assigns it to the Qolla ethnic group of the Late Intermediate Period.[4]
The archaeological interpretation of the treasure links it with the clothing and funerary assemblage of a high-ranking person. In this sense, the find is valuable not only because of the presence of precious metals, but also because of the information it provides on metallurgy, ritual dress, offerings and the social organization of Qolla populations in the highlands.[47]
The report by Ruiz Estrada and the study by Bolívar Yapura make it possible to distinguish the principal metal objects from other associated materials. In addition to sheets, discs, bells, bracelets, tubes and pectoral pieces, the assemblage included beads and ceramic fragments that help reconstruct its funerary context.[48][49]
The location of the find near the Lizard chullpa is significant because it links the assemblage with one of the most emblematic buildings of Sillustani. However, archaeological interpretation must distinguish among the symbolic value of the place, the exact context of deposition and the later history of collection, custody, inventory and exhibition of the pieces.
Part of the assemblage is preserved and exhibited at the Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum in the city of Puno, inside the Sillustani Room. This room presents objects from the archaeological complex, mummies, funerary assemblages and a reproduction of a chullpa used to explain Colla funerary practices.[46]
The museographic exhibition of the treasure has played an important role in the public dissemination of the site. By moving part of the materials to the Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum, the find ceased to be only a local event of 1971 and became integrated into a regional narrative on the archaeology of Puno. The room connects the funerary complex with specific objects, manufacturing techniques, burial practices and forms of authority in the highlands.
From a heritage perspective, the treasure also shows the importance of documentation. Without the CORPUNO act, later studies and the museum record, the assemblage would have been reduced to a report of a find. Its current value depends on the material conservation of the pieces, but also on the documentary chain that makes it possible to reconstruct their provenance, context and archaeological interpretation.
Contemporary newspaper documentation also shows how quickly the find was incorporated into regional public discourse. The CORPUNO act, press clippings and later archaeological publications form a documentary sequence that makes it possible to study the social circulation of the discovery: from excavation and custody to official inventory, public news, academic study and museum exhibition.[50]
In historiographical terms, the Treasure of Sillustani links three dimensions that are often studied separately: the archaeological context, the public administration of heritage and the regional memory of the find. The documentation of 1971 records names, offices, inventories and procedures; the studies by Ruiz Estrada and Bolívar Yapura transform those data into archaeological interpretation; and the exhibition in the Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum turns the assemblage into a heritage education resource for Puno.
The encyclopedic value of the treasure does not lie only in its material composition. Its importance is that it offers a documented case of the discovery, recording, study and musealization of a highland funerary assemblage. That sequence helps explain how a group of objects passes from being archaeological evidence to becoming public heritage and a reference for the cultural history of Sillustani.
Conservation and tourism
Sillustani was declared Cultural Heritage of the Nation by Supreme Resolution No. 296/INC-2003. Administration and maintenance of the resource are the responsibility of the Decentralized Directorate of Culture of Puno, an entity of the Ministry of Culture.[1]
The complex is one of the main cultural attractions of the Department of Puno. Visits are connected with archaeological interest, observation of the landscape and tourist circuits near Lake Titicaca. In 2021, the Ministry of Culture participated in its reopening as part of actions for tourist reactivation and enhancement of the site after restrictions related to the COVID-19 pandemic.[2]
Conservation of the site faces challenges associated with the exposure of the structures to the highland climate, tourist pressure, the need for permanent maintenance and the protection of archaeological contexts not yet studied. Recent interventions have been oriented toward tourist conditioning and enhancement of the main chullpas of the complex.[1]
Tourism has contributed to the national and international visibility of Sillustani, but it also requires careful management. The funerary towers are exposed structures and vulnerable to erosion, disordered visitor circulation and uncontrolled interventions. For that reason, enhancement of the complex requires balancing public access with protection of sensitive areas and research in sectors that still preserve archaeological information.
The relationship between the site and the surrounding communities is another relevant aspect. The Umayo peninsula is part of an inhabited landscape, with rural activities and local memory associated with the complex. Conservation of Sillustani therefore depends not only on state action, but also on the relationship between heritage management, regional tourism and participation by the nearby population.
The official record of the tourist resource notes that the complex has basic infrastructure for visits, ticket office, toilets, signage and internal paths, although conservation of the structures requires permanent measures of control, monitoring and maintenance.[51] This condition illustrates a common tension at archaeological sites open to tourism: the need to facilitate access without turning the monument into a space of consumption that damages archaeological contexts.
The Carlos Dreyer Municipal Museum complements visits to the complex because it preserves materials from Sillustani and allows visitors to see pieces that cannot remain exposed on the site for reasons of security and conservation.[52] The relationship between site and museum is therefore part of the heritage management of the group.
Heritage management at Sillustani also requires separating the tourist experience from archaeological interpretation. The site is usually visited as part of brief circuits from Puno, but understanding it requires recognizing the complexity of its sectors, the diversity of its towers and the existence of less visible evidence, such as quilcas, terraces, quarries and associated remains. This perspective allows the visit not to focus only on the most photographed chullpas.
The future conservation of the complex depends on sustained research, updated documentation and public education. At a site that is exposed, monumental and heavily visited, physical protection of the structures must be accompanied by clear information about their cultural context. In this way, Sillustani can be understood not only as an attraction of the Puno highlands, but as an open archaeological archive on death, power, memory and landscape in the Andes.
See also
References
- ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p (Mincetur 2022a)
- ^ a b c (Ministry of Culture 2021)
- ^ (De la Vega & Stanish 2002, p. 267)
- ^ a b (Bolívar Yapura 2003, p. 419)
- ^ (Stanish 2003)
- ^ a b c (De la Vega & Stanish 2002, p. 265)
- ^ (Bongers, Arkush & Harrower 2012, pp. 1687–1693)
- ^ (Ayca Gallegos 1995)
- ^ (Bandelier 1905, pp. 49–68)
- ^ (Arkush 2009, p. 463)
- ^ (Julien 1983)
- ^ (Stanish 2003)
- ^ (Arkush 2009, pp. 463–479)
- ^ (Julien 1983)
- ^ (Julien 1983)
- ^ (Delgado González et al. 2024, pp. 79–99)
- ^ (Hyslop 1977, pp. 149–170)
- ^ (Velasco 2023, p. 590)
- ^ (Gil García 2001, pp. 165–199)
- ^ (Duchesne & Chacama 2012, pp. 605–619)
- ^ (Kesseli & Pärssinen 2005, pp. 379–410)
- ^ (Delgado González et al. 2024, pp. 79–99)
- ^ (Tantaleán 2006, pp. 129–143)
- ^ (Velasco 2023, p. 590)
- ^ (Gil García 2001, pp. 165–199)
- ^ (Bongers, Arkush & Harrower 2012, pp. 1687–1693)
- ^ (Hyslop 1977, pp. 149–170)
- ^ (Delgado González et al. 2024, pp. 79–99)
- ^ (Bandelier 1905, pp. 49–68)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, p. 21)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, pp. 35–37)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, pp. 21–22)
- ^ (Hyslop 1977, pp. 149–170)
- ^ (Mincetur 2022a)
- ^ (De la Vega & Stanish 2002, pp. 265–275)
- ^ (Bongers, Arkush & Harrower 2012, pp. 1687–1693)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, pp. 35–37)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, pp. 22–24)
- ^ (Bandelier 1905, pp. 49–68)
- ^ (Tschopik 1946)
- ^ (Sánchez & Echevarría López 2015, pp. 22–24)
- ^ a b (CORPUNO 1971)
- ^ (Bolívar Yapura 2006)
- ^ (Bolívar Yapura 2006, p. 6)
- ^ (Ruiz Estrada 1976)
- ^ a b (Mincetur 2022b)
- ^ (Bolívar Yapura 2003, pp. 419–427)
- ^ (Ruiz Estrada 1976)
- ^ (Bolívar Yapura 2003, pp. 419–427)
- ^ (CORPUNO 1971)
- ^ (Mincetur 2022a)
- ^ (Mincetur 2022b)
Bibliography
Academic publications
- Arkush, Elizabeth (2009). “Pukaras de los Collas: guerra y poder regional en la cuenca norte del Titicaca durante el Periodo Intermedio Tardío” (PDF). Andes (in Spanish) (7): 463–479. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Ayca Gallegos, Oscar Raúl (1995). Sillustani (in Spanish). Tacna: Instituto de Arqueología del Sur. p. 164. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Bandelier, Adolph Francis Alphonse (1905). “The Aboriginal Ruins at Sillustani, Peru”. American Anthropologist. 7 (1): 49–68. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Bolívar Yapura, Wilber (2003). “Interpretación de una ofrenda de oro hallada en Sillustani”. Boletín de Arqueología PUCP (in Spanish) (7): 419–427. doi:10.18800/boletindearqueologiapucp.200301.019. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Bolívar Yapura, Wilber (2006). El Tesoro de Sillustani (PDF) (Report) (in Spanish). Gobierno Regional de Puno. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Bongers, Jacob L.; Arkush, Elizabeth; Harrower, Michael (2012). “Landscapes of Death: GIS-based Analyses of Chullpas in the Western Lake Titicaca Basin”. Journal of Archaeological Science. 39 (6): 1687–1693. doi:10.1016/j.jas.2011.11.018. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- De la Vega, Edmundo; Stanish, Charles (2002). “Los centros de peregrinaje como mecanismos de integración política en sociedades complejas del altiplano del Titicaca”. Boletín de Arqueología PUCP (in Spanish) (6): 265–275. doi:10.18800/boletindearqueologiapucp.200201.010. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Delgado González, Carlos; Socualaya Dávila, Carlo; Pérez Fernández, Lisseth; Quispe Huallpa, Biviano (2024). “Las chullpas como elementos simbólicos de la época inca en Kelluyo, Puno”. Revista Española de Antropología Americana (in Spanish). 54 (1): 79–99. doi:10.5209/reaa.87908. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Duchesne, Frédéric; Chacama, Juan (2012). “Torres funerarias prehispánicas de los Andes Centro-Sur: muerte, ocupación del espacio y organización social. Estudio comparativo”. Chungara. Revista de Antropología Chilena (in Spanish). 44 (4): 605–619. doi:10.4067/S0717-73562012000400005. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Gil García, Francisco Miguel (2001). “Secuencia y consecuencia del fenómeno chullpario. En torno al proceso de semantización de las Torres Chullpa”. Anales del Museo de América (in Spanish) (9): 165–199. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Hyslop, John (1977). “Chulpas of the Lupaca Zone of the Peruvian High Plateau”. Journal of Field Archaeology. 4 (2): 149–170. doi:10.1179/009346977791547912. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Julien, Catherine J. (1983). Hatunqolla: A View of Inca Rule from the Lake Titicaca Region. University of California Publications in Anthropology. Vol. 15. Berkeley: University of California Press. ISBN 9780520096820. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Kesseli, Risto; Pärssinen, Martti (2005). “Identidad étnica y muerte: torres funerarias (chullpas) como símbolos de poder étnico en el altiplano boliviano de Pakasa (1250-1600 d.C.)”. Bulletin de l’Institut français d’études andines (in Spanish). 34 (3): 379–410. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Ruiz Estrada, Arturo (1976). Hallazgos de oro, Sillustani (Puno). Metalurgia prehispánica (in Spanish). Lima: Museo Nacional de Antropología y Arqueología. p. 17. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Sánchez, Berenguela; Echevarría López, Gori Tumi (2015). “Quilcas en Sillustani, Puno. Cronología e implicancias”. Revista Haucaypata. Investigaciones arqueológicas del Tahuantinsuyo (in Spanish) (9): 21–43. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Stanish, Charles (2003). Ancient Titicaca: The Evolution of Complex Society in Southern Peru and Northern Bolivia. Berkeley: University of California Press. doi:10.1525/california/9780520232457.001.0001. ISBN 9780520232457. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Tantaleán, Henry (2006). “Regresar para construir: prácticas funerarias e ideología(s) durante la ocupación Inka en Cutimbo, Puno-Perú”. Chungara. Revista de Antropología Chilena (in Spanish). 38 (1): 129–143. doi:10.4067/S0717-73562006000100010. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Tschopik, Marion H. (1946). Some Notes on the Archaeology of the Department of Puno, Peru. Papers of the Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and Ethnology. Vol. 27. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Peabody Museum Press. p. 84. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Velasco, Matthew (2023). “Burying the Dead at Ayawiri: Mortuary Diversity and Postmortem Manipulation at an Andean Hillfort, AD 1100-1450”. Latin American Antiquity. 34 (3): 589–607. doi:10.1017/laq.2022.56. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
Official and documentary sources
- Corporación de Fomento y Promoción Social y Económica de Puno (1971). Acta e inventario del hallazgo del Tesoro de Sillustani, Puno, 1971 (Report) (in Spanish). Internet Archive. Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Ministry of Culture of Peru (19 January 2021). “Reapertura del Complejo Arqueológico de Sillustani en Puno” (in Spanish). Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Ministry of Foreign Trade and Tourism. “Complejo Arqueológico de Sillustani” (in Spanish). Retrieved 8 May 2026.
- Ministry of Foreign Trade and Tourism. “Museo Municipal Carlos Dreyer” (in Spanish). Retrieved 8 May 2026.