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MAMACOCA A Screenplay Treatment by Aldo Vidali, @1980. All Rights Reserved. A majestic Andean pass in Peru. Silhouetted against the dawn, Lorenzo Matraca, an old Quinchua Indian, drives at steady pace a drove of llamas bearing a cargo of coca leaves in "cestas." The old man is chewing as he runs. His face is noble and powerful. The leading llama is the tallest, nearly six feet to the tip of its pointed ears. Its head is decorated with tufts of colored wool in a fringe hung with little bells. Its large restless eyes and quivering lips lend a remarkable impression of intelligence. Man and animals move across a spectacular precipitous terrain that would be impassible for a mule. On a vast plateau they stop at an ancient circle of monolithic dolmen stones set by a prehistoric people to mark the path of the planets as the passage of the seasons. As the sun appears with its first shafts of light, Lorenzo performs the ancient coca rite. Turning clockwise from east to each of the four direction, he emits long piercing calls and casts handfuls of leaves which the gusty winds scatter over the barren land. Once again he stands facing east, his eyes fixed into the brightness. Suddenly, as if emanating from the center of the sun, a golden disk comes flying at enormous speed low over the plateau and disappears beyond the western cordillera. The old Indian prostrates himself in adoration. Seen from inside the cockpit of a DC-10 jetliner, the mysterious flying object appears above the great bluff of Pisco directly over the colossal 820 Inca petroglyph carved on the rock wall, and flies head on toward the plane, then disappears above it. The shocked pilots react by a sudden change of course to avoid collision. In the cockpit, the three stunned crew members are but for a moment speechless. What was that? They agree to remain silent about the UFO sighting, fearing ridicule and the annoyance of investigations. Inside the plane, most of the passengers are still asleep. Only Charles Gordon stirs in troubled sleep. Flashes of Charles in the cockpit of a jetfighter ready to strike target. Vietnam. He suddenly jolted wide awake, terror in his eyes. Sitting next to him, a middle-aged government official, Mr. Groves, asks Charles what is the matter. Charles shakes his head and mumbles something about a dream. Groves points out the window at the gigantic carving on the rock wall, asking Charles what it might be. This strikes up a conversation between the two men. Charles is going to Peru to write a thesis on the ancient civilizations of the Andes. He comments that the giant carving over Pisco was, according to the Swiss anthropologist Von Daniken, a landing signal for visitors from outer space. Charles remarks that in his opinion the carving symbolizes the sacred coca plant of the Incas. Groves prefers Charles' theory to Von Daniken's, skeptically commenting that even anthropology is becoming science fiction. Groves expresses his surprise that his first glimpse of Peru coincides with the purpose of his government assignment: the control of coca production to eliminate cocaine traffic. Charles winces, then with forced casualness, suggests that the U.S. Government should have learned from Vietnam not to move too fast in countries it knows little about. Groves drops the subject. He grabs the hand of a passing stewardess and orders a whiskey on the rocks. Charles crawls back under his blanket, but cannot sleep, He glances out the window at the breathtaking panorama. Below on the mountains, Lorenzo Matraca has resumed his journey. He cries out to his animals to keep them moving. His echoes across the crags and peaks, still half in darkness the mist, evoke ghostly Andean superstitions. The lonely cry of a condor soaring over the chasms answers the voice of the Andean. It is a world of spells, ancient magic and mystery. The stewardess serves Groves his whiskey on the rocks. Charles observes the inexplicable pattern of lines that mark for many miles the Plain of Nazca. It suggests runways of an ancient spaceport. On the ground Lorenzo stops at the base of a pile of sacred stones marking the trail. From his small decorated woolen "chuspa" hanging from his belt, he takes a small stone, throws it onto the pile, and offers it to the god of the mountain. He bows three times, repeating the words "APACHICTA MUCH-HANI," an expression of gratitude for the journey thus safely made and his prayer for its favorable continuance. Lorenzo squats to prepare his "chique" of leaves for the next chew. From a tiny gourd, also hanging from his belt, he adds to the leaves a dash of gray ash-lime. He has now made ready for another "cocada," the measure of distances in his world. As he puts the "chique" in his mouth and begins to chew, Groves, in the plane, lifts his whiskey glass to his lips. Below, running against the backdrop of snow-covered peaks, the old Andean glances up to the sky; he see the passing jetliner.
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