Photographs by Paccarik Orue
Text by Sahara Borja
I often think about the significance of the names we were given. I think that mine predestines me to live alone in some great expanse forever. I think that some we play into and some may only come into focus later.
I searched around for some time trying to find the significance of photographer Paccarik Orueâ€™s name, which I know to be of Quechua origin. That there were limited online resources whose accuracy I doubted was only half the problem. At most, I only ever found fragments of his name or fragments of words. On one online Quechua dictionary site I found the words â€śpakakuy,â€ť â€śpacha,â€ť â€śpâ€™ajpaku,â€ť â€śpâ€™akikoj,â€ť â€śpakgarin,â€ť and â€śpakkarin,â€ť which, respectively, translate roughly to â€śhiding oneself,â€ť â€śearth, world, time,â€ť â€śvagabond/magician,â€ť â€śfragile, breakable,â€ť â€śdaybreak, dawn,â€ť and â€śsunrise, to get up.â€ť Could we, instead, blend these words together to encompass â€śPaccarik?â€ť
If we carry through with this little game we could look at Paccarik as a constellation of these, and many more traits, constantly tugging at each other. And when we got to know him better, we might begin to understand him, as, yes, a well-grounded traveler with a vagabond spirit and magicianâ€™s spark for whom photography serves as a delicate two-way mirror and as a consistent fresh start. Paccarik is more than the sum of his etymology, of course â€“ but poetic, still â€“ that this idea of eternal daybreak, this â€śpakkarinâ€ť of sorts, is the life-affirming backdrop in front of which he has set his camera, and the motifby which he has chosen to live his art.