Our weary little group of Americans arrived in the breath-taking city of Cuzco, Peru, mythical capital of the Incan empire and gateway to Machu Picchu. Hiram Bingham discovered the site less than a hundred years ago, hidden in the vastness of the Andes Mountains 8,000 feet above sea level. Cuzco, the nearest city, lies about fifty miles northwest of the site. I was with a group who had come together to visit and learn more about this amazing place. We arrived weary, yet enthusiastic.

We immediately came to a large courtyard off the main square and saw our hotel, a two-story, u-shaped building. The proprietor explained that this 350-year-old structure was once an elegant private residence owned by a Spanish Lord and frequented by Vatican emissaries and Spanish nobleman. The senor led us to metal tables in the courtyard and served us mate de coca (coca tea), the local remedy for prevention of altitude sickness.

I craved warmth and rest due to the heat stroke I experienced at the “Candelabra of the Andes,” the enormous geoglyph at Pisco Bay, and the intense ceremonies in the Nazca desert’s freezing nights. My mantra had become, “hot shower, hot shower.” I chose a large, old key for a second floor room, opened a heavy, carved door, dropped everything on the bed, stripped and ran to the broom-closet sized shower stall to turn on the water. However, only cold water drizzled from the showerhead; it wasn’t even warm. For the next three hours, I spoke to the tour guide, the owner of the inn, and the patrons whose bathroom backed up to mine. I found no answers as to why my room had no hot water.

Only when I was out of patience and near tears did the ghost who had haunted this room for the last 350 years appear with a few answers. A short, olive-skinned man stepped out from behind the red velvet drapery that covered the window. His eyes were penetrating, and his manner intense, as if riddled with anxiety. He spoke Spanish, and I did not. Yet I understood our connection on an unspoken level. He sought help and I read in his mind the images of Spanish conquistadors beheading natives with long, curved swords.

Thank heavens, my roommate from Colombia spoke Spanish fluently and offered to translate his story for me if I could somehow connect them. Yes, I said, I would do anything for a hot shower.

My roommate Rosa sat on wooden chair, and I stood behind her with my hands on her shoulders. We went into silence, inviting the ghost to communicate however he could. Rosa heard him speak in her mind, repeated the phrase to insure accuracy, as there were linguistic differences, and then spoke to me in English. The friar knew he was dead, had died in the room hundreds of years previously, and was scared to go anywhere or do anything because of his fear of going to hell.

He confessed that he was forced into a conspiracy to kill others, and then started enjoying the act of killing. We never understood how many people he killed. When he was to return to Spain, he didn’t go, but elected to stay in the country in hopes of making amends for his horrendous sins. He has been haunted by his own fears and guilt for hundreds of years. This conversation-style connection went on for about 12 minutes and then words weren’t needed. The friar’s imagery, or memories as I viewed them, flooded us. Rosa and I received similar imagery of the friar poisoning food and plunging a sword into a native. While we had no obvious way to confirm the information, we did have each other’s validations based on similar images.

The friar asked to be released from this space and helped to a place where he could move on. When I asked about the hot water, he indicated that he messed with it in order to get our attention, and he was successful. Indeed!  When I asked if he would restore the hot water, he said, “Yes.” Rosa and I called upon angels and continued until we felt warmth and light fill the cold room. The friar also saw the light. He restored our hot water, walked into the light-filled area and vanished.

After that, Rosa and I felt the room temperature normalize, and I went to stand for a long time under the steaming water.