Interview with explorer Gregory Deyermenjian, famous researcher of Paititi
Nowadays, most people believe that the entire world has already been explored, mapped, and documented. They tell us we live in the age of globalization, where no matter where one travels, it will feel like home.
The truth, however, is quite different from what the media portrays. Even today, there are areas of the Earth that remain little known, and others where, incredibly, no one (except for uncontacted indigenous peoples) has ever set foot.
For instance, in South America, parts of the border between Brazil and Peru, as well as areas in Peru such as Alto Purús, the Río Yaco, the intangible zone of the Manu National Park, and the Madidi National Park in Bolivia, are virtually unknown from an archaeological perspective.
Some of these regions are like treasure chests that have never been opened, potentially hiding significant archaeological and historical evidence that could expand our understanding of the pre-Columbian past.
In the Peruvian Amazon, for example, the legend of Paititi, the lost city of the Incas, has long been told. This mythical city, which according to Inca legend was founded by the cultural hero Inkarri, is said to be located in the Peruvian jungle and to house much of the Inca treasure, along with ancient knowledge that could unlock the mystery of the origins of the American peoples.
One of the most tireless explorers and researchers of Paititi is Gregory Deyermenjian (born in Boston in 1949), an active member of "The Explorers Club" in New York, who has been traversing the forests and mountains of Peru since 1984 in search of the truth about Paititi’s location.
I met Gregory Deyermenjian in the city of Cusco and was immediately struck by his calm and respectful demeanor towards others, as well as his profound and harmonious relationship with the people of Peru and Mother Earth.
Gregory Deyermenjian is an explorer and researcher dedicated to seeking, documenting, and interpreting all Incan or Amazonian archaeological remains he encounters during his expeditions.
Here is the full text of the interview:
Yuri Leveratto: Gregory, you began your explorations in Peru in 1984. What was the main reason that led you to explore remote areas of the highlands and jungle of this wonderful country?
Gregory Deyermenjian: Yuri, it’s all been a process, an evolution, I think. The first step was the Inca Trail in 1980, during which I realized that Hiram Bingham initially believed Machu Picchu to be the famous and mysterious Vilcabamba. The next step was to visit Vilcabamba at Espiritu Pampa in 1981. During that trip, I started hearing about another mysterious site, located further east, called “Paititi,” and from that moment, I knew I had to research and try to understand the topic of Paititi to its fullest. Beyond that, ever since I was young, I’ve always had the desire to uncover the unknown, the so-called “Más Allá” (Beyond).
Whenever I saw the words “DATOS INSUFICIENTES” (insufficient data) or “NO DATA AVAILABLE” on a detailed map, I’d feel a rush of excitement, thinking that I might be the first to set foot in that area. And as far as pure exploration goes, there’s no place in the world as fascinating as Peru.
Yuri Leveratto: I’ve noticed that your relationship with Dr. Carlos Neuenschwander Landa has been very important to you. Could you tell us something about that?
Gregory Deyermenjian: Dr. Carlos Neuenschwander Landa was an extraordinary man—punctual, cultured, intelligent, knowledgeable in medicine and psychiatry, and passionate about the legend of Paititi from a historical perspective.
He carried out numerous expeditions—on foot, by mule, in off-road vehicles, and even by helicopter. He was always open to the active and constructive involvement of other explorers, like myself, and my colleagues Paulino Mamani and Marco Rosaz, from the very moment we were introduced. He wrote important books compiling fascinating information about his explorations. His first book, Pantiacollo, is a classic in the literature of exploration.
Moreover, Carlos Neuenschwander Landa was a true “Renaissance man,” as he also published a novel. Many of our expeditions, especially those in which we attempted to explore the unknown area traversed by the "stone path," or those along the Paucartambo mountain range, reaching the vast and unexplored "Pantiacolla Plateau," were inspired by the immense spirit of Dr. Carlos.
Yuri Leveratto: I noticed that in most of your expeditions, you have always been accompanied by a select group of individuals, specifically the Peruvian explorers Paulino Mamani and Goyo Toledo. Can you tell us where you met them and why these people are so important to you?
Gregory Deyermenjian: In exploration, it is critically important to set out with the right, well-tested team. I’ve been very fortunate to have brave, punctual, and highly skilled individuals as partners in my field research on the subject of “Paititi.” These expeditions aim to find and document what might be hidden in the remote mountains and forests of the Cusco region (in the provinces of Calca and La Convención) and the Madre de Dios region (Manu province) in southeastern Peru. My team members have always had very positive attitudes, which is crucial for success.
In 1984, I traveled to Pukyopata, a farming area in the highlands of the Río Mapacho, to speak with Don Tomas Toledo about hiring him for an expedition and using some of his mules. That day, I was lucky because Don Tomas’ son, Goyo, arrived from his almost permanent dwelling in the Matsiguenka lands of Mameria. Goyo had come to visit his father, something he did only once a year or so. Goyo brought with him Raimundo, a Matsiguenka from Mameria.
That year, however, I ended up not using Don Tomas’ mules but instead used horses belonging to the Mamani family. We traveled by truck through the Calca province to Amparaes, where we met the Mamanis to begin the expedition with their horses. There, I met a young, very friendly man who wanted to join us. He told me he was 25 years old, though in reality, he was 18. His name was Paulino Mamani.
From Amparaes, we set off with Paulino and his brothers Guillermo and Torribio, and we met the most influential man in the area, Goyo Toledo, whom I had met a month earlier on his father’s land. From that point on, a strong friendship formed among us, lasting to this day.
In the expeditions from 1984 to 1989, Goyo served as the captain of the march. Over time, Paulino gained more experience and, being incredibly skilled and strong, became the march captain starting in 1991 and has held that role to this day.
Since 1986, I have been fortunate to have an elite combination of team members for my expeditions, including Goyo, Paulino, Goyo’s younger brother Gavino Toledo, and a Matsiguenka named “Angel.”
In the 1990s, the group was smaller but still excellent for my needs, consisting of Paulino and his younger brother Ignacio Mamani. During the expeditions of 2004, 2006, and 2008, Paulino and I were assisted by his nephews Alberto, Saul Cesar, and Raul, all of whom were very skilled and experienced.
In these explorations of Peru’s most remote areas, nothing is more important than cohesion among team members, along with perfect physical and mental fitness. If even one participant lacks sufficient spirit, determination, honesty, or physical, mental, and emotional strength, the entire expedition could fail—or worse, the safety of everyone involved could be jeopardized.
Yuri Leveratto: In your early expeditions in 1984, 1985, and 1986, you documented the archaeological site of Mameria. Could you briefly share your conclusions about it?
Gregory Deyermenjian: We visited Mameria in 1984, 1985, twice in 1986, and again in 1989. In my opinion, it was an Incan settlement primarily used to supply coca leaves to the Incas of Cusco. It was a relatively large site with groups of buildings, agricultural terraces, ceremonial platforms, a kiln used for making pottery, many ceramic fragments, and various objects made of tumbaga (a gold and copper alloy).
At Mameria, we found coca trees (no longer bushes), which had grown unchecked for 500 years. The site might have served as a supply point for another archaeological site, but this has not been proven. My opinion is that Mameria was part of the vast territory called Callanga, used as a coca production area for the Incas.
Mameria has also been linked to the "Peruvian Paititi," as southeast of the area lies the legendary mountain Apu-Catinti, often associated with the Paititi legend. This location is not far from the Paucartambo mountain range, where the “stone path” constructed by Inkarri during his journey from Q’ero to Paititi in the Pantiacolla plateau can be found.
Yuri Leveratto: You explored the Toporake plateau in 1989. Why did you head to that area? What archaeological evidence did you find in this remote and extremely cold region?
Gregory Deyermenjian: The Toporake plateau is located northeast of Mameria. It is an inhospitable place, very high (3,900 meters above sea level), cold, and constantly humid.
The stone path leads from the Paucartambo mountain range to Toporake, where it intersects with other trails coming from the west. From that point, a single path continues northwest toward the Pantiacolla plateau, the same highland that plays a fundamental role in the legend of Inkarri, who retreated to Pantiacolla, to his city or oasis of "Paititi."
Moreover, on the Toporake plateau, we found various remains of buildings with low walls, though quite large, which seemed like military “headquarters.” This suggests that the plateau might have been a strategic observation point to shield against potential attacks toward the Pantiacolla highlands.
Yuri Leveratto: In 1991, you visited and carefully documented the Pusharo petroglyphs. We know these petroglyphs (discovered by Father Vicente de Cenitagoya in 1921) were extensively studied by Dr. Carlos Neuenschwander Landa. What are your conclusions about them? Do you think they are of Amazonian or Andean origin? And when do you believe they were carved?
Gregory Deyermenjian: In reality, a rubber explorer first reported the existence of these petroglyphs in 1909, and twelve years later, Father Cenitagoya traveled to Pusharo with two other clergymen. To them, the glyphs appeared to be Gothic letters narrating the Bible’s story.
Dr. Neuenschwander believed the petroglyphs were “ideograms,” but to this day, no one has fully deciphered them. In my opinion, the petroglyphs were inspired by visions experienced by shamans in the past, under the influence of hallucinogenic plants such as Brugmansia, which I have seen growing naturally near the river close to Pusharo, and Ayahuasca.
Thus, I believe the site as a whole and the petroglyphs are not a map of the Earth or the sky, nor any form of writing, but rather a shamanic representation of great spiritual importance to the region’s inhabitants in ancient times. Some figures represented in the Pusharo petroglyphs can also be seen on the walls of malokas (communal houses) of the Barasana and other ethnic groups from eastern Colombia and northeastern Brazil. These symbols are always associated with a form of shamanic protection for those navigating the so-called pongos—places where rivers narrow and currents become extremely strong (e.g., Pongo de Mainique, Pusharo, etc.). For me, the Pusharo petroglyphs have an Amazonian origin, specifically of the Brazilian jungle type.
Yuri Leveratto: In 1993, you explored the Toporake and Pantiacolla highlands. Can you describe the “stone path” you traveled? What other archaeological evidence did you find?
Gregory Deyermenjian: In 1993, we climbed a narrow, extremely winding, and muddy trail along the edge of deep cliffs to reach the Toporake plateau. Our ultimate goal was to pass through Toporake and begin our exploration along the single path that leads from Toporake to the Pantiacolla plateau.
There were various retaining walls along the stone path. We were a group of four: Paulino, German Condori (a native of the Lacco Valley), Gumercindo (a farmer in charge of the mules), and myself. At one point, the mules could no longer advance because the path was too difficult and narrow. So, we bid farewell to Gumercindo, who returned while we continued north.
The plateau was very cold and humid. Rain mixed with snow and freezing winds were constant—it was October, relatively late for optimal exploration conditions. The trail would disappear and reappear at various points. We reached a section where there was a retaining wall, approximately where the trail steeply descended into the so-called Andean forest, shrouded in mist. We descended into the dense forest to explore and document the area. After about half an hour, we realized the trail continued indefinitely, so we decided to return to the plateau.
We realized we had spent so much time and energy and used up so many provisions on the outbound journey that we would need to use a helicopter in the future to reach this point, allowing us to begin exploring the area fresh and full of strength.
Yuri Leveratto: In 1994 and 1995, you explored the Callanga River in the Madre de Dios basin. Why did you return to the jungle after focusing on the highlands of the stone path for several years?
Gregory Deyermenjian: We must remember that the tropical forests of Mameria and Callanga are connected to the "stone path" in the Paucartambo mountain range, and both areas are accessible (albeit with great difficulty) via trails descending eastward from the path before disappearing into the Andean forest and then into the tropical jungle.
It’s true that for several years we had considered the stone path as our main objective, intending to follow it further north. However, after realizing in 1993 that to continue exploring the vast Pantiacolla plateau would require a helicopter—at least for the outbound journey—we decided to postpone our return to the plateau until we could secure the resources to hire a helicopter.
Because we couldn’t secure those resources, in 1994 and 1995, we decided to explore other relatively closer areas connected to the stone path and the Paititi legend: the Callanga area in 1994 and Llactapata in 1995. Additionally, our colleague during the 1990s, Dr. Carlos Neuenschwander Landa, explicitly requested that we explore the jungle area where the Yungaria River meets the Callanga (forming the PiñiPiñi), where he believed he had seen extensive agricultural terraces from a helicopter years earlier.
Yuri Leveratto: In 1996, you were the first Westerner to reach the so-called “Pantiacolla pyramids” or Paratoari, where I arrived in 2009. What can you tell us about that expedition?
Gregory Deyermenjian: 1996 was another year without a helicopter, so we asked ourselves, "What other site related to the Paititi legend is worth scientifically exploring?"
I realized that location might correspond to the Pantiacolla pyramids or Paratoari. It wasn’t a very long journey, but it was full of hardships and discomfort. We crossed several rivers with muddy, treacherous banks in the lowland jungle, where the oppressive heat and humidity were suffocating, with many insects—mosquitoes, horseflies, wasps of every kind—far more than we encountered in the high jungle.
In the "pyramids" area, the vegetation was so dense and impenetrable that advancing was nearly impossible. At one point, we were standing on one of those strange formations and asked ourselves, “Where are the pyramids?” We stayed in the area for only a few days because, up close, it was obvious to us that these strange formations were indeed wonders, but natural ones—not human-made artifacts.
Yuri Leveratto: In 1999, you returned to the stone path, this time with a helicopter. During that expedition, you reached the headwaters of the Timpia River. Can you describe the challenging descent through the narrow canyon of that river?
Gregory Deyermenjian: That year, we arrived at the Pantiacolla plateau by helicopter, thanks to resources provided by German filmmaker Heinz von Metthey. We landed in a puna (Andean highland ecosystem) area with rugged terrain and many cliffs.
After a few days exploring that part of the plateau, located southeast of the area we documented in 1993, Paulino Mamani, his younger brother Ignacio, and I bid farewell to the helicopter pilot, who flew back to Cusco. We then began our trek northeast toward the Timpia River headwaters.
By evening, we reached the retaining wall we had documented in 1993. From there, we began descending through a terrifyingly steep canyon. Within minutes, we were in the Andean forest at the Timpia headwaters.
The canyon was extremely narrow and treacherous, and we felt “trapped” because it was difficult to escape—continuing the descent was perilous, and turning back was even more complicated. At one point, we noticed the stone path snaking along the left ridge, though 500 years of abandonment had rendered it nearly impassable due to accumulated rocks, fallen trees, earthquakes, landslides, and storms.
Despite these challenges, we managed—jumping from rock to rock—to descend to the rushing stream. Strangely enough, it was easier to move along the stream than on the stone path.
We advanced slowly and with great difficulty because the path was slippery and hazardous. The environment was extremely humid, and the constant mist prevented us from seeing the sun. At times, we had to leave the stream because the passage was impassable and return to the stone path. The descent through the Timpia canyon lasted several days and was very dangerous, as landslides frequently occurred as we passed.
In the area, we found several retaining walls and other stone structures. We spent several days in constant humidity and dim light, advancing so little compared to our usual pace that we realized it could take weeks, if not months, to descend to a much lower area.
We decided we had to turn back; otherwise, our lives would be at risk. The ascent was extremely difficult—we had to use ropes to ensure we didn’t fall into the precipice. In two days, we reached the Andean forest and eventually returned to the plateau.
Yuri Leveratto: During that same journey, you discovered Lake Angel, located in an extremely high (3,950 meters above sea level), cold, and humid area. Can you describe the archaeological remains found during this expedition? You also mentioned a strange triangular monolith found in a cave near Lake Angel. Could you tell us more about it? Do you believe it was sculpted by humans?
Gregory Deyermenjian: After returning to the Timpia headwaters, we walked south and, by chance, encountered a group of vaqueros (herders) who had ascended from the Yavero River valley to tend to their cattle grazing in the highlands.
Paulino quickly began assisting them, earning their trust. We spent the day and the following night with them, eating beef. At one point, one of the herders told us something interesting: northeast of where we were was an enchanted lake shaped like a figure-eight, with various archaeological remains along its shores. According to the herders, the lake was "sacred" to Pachamama, and anyone attempting to approach it would face storms, winds, and other strange weather phenomena that would make access extremely difficult.
This reminded us of a story Machiguenka “Angel” had told us. Years ago, he had fled near-slavery conditions at the Yavero River and ventured into the jungle before reaching the highlands, where he found a strange figure-eight-shaped lake and nearly died from cold and hunger.
Despite being very weakened from the arduous journey we had just undertaken, I felt we had to proceed to the lake. So, we began the journey northwestward. Every day brought rain mixed with snowstorms, and the nights were freezing. Finally, guided by maps, GPS, and Paulino’s instincts, we reached an enchanted lake exactly as Angel had described.
We camped along the lake's shores. The entire area around the lake was freezing, with large flea-like insects, and we were constantly soaking wet. But it was worth it—we found and documented several ceremonial platforms used for sun worship in ancient times.
In a cave near the lake, we discovered a strange stone monolith, almost blue in color and triangular. I couldn’t explain its origin, but the monolith was real. It seemed that the trail we followed to the lake, which we named "Lake Angel," continued north-northwest.
After documenting additional ceremonial platforms and recording the area’s coordinates, we began our return journey southward, initially to the herders’ camp and eventually descending to the Yavero valley’s subtropical zone, passing the archaeological site of Miraflores in the Chunchosmayo River area.
Since this journey, we have always considered Lake Angel an important starting point for subsequent expeditions.
Yuri Leveratto: In 2006, you returned to the low jungle, but this time to the Taperachi River. It seems that during that expedition, you didn’t find significant archaeological remains, but I understand it was an extremely challenging journey. I recall you mentioned that the Taperachi River is the most difficult river in the world. Is that true?
Gregory Deyermenjian: Along the Taperachi River, we found traces of some terraces used for agriculture, evidence that the Incas intended to settle in the area permanently. We reached the operational zone by ascending the Yoyato River, a tributary of the Urubamba River. This confirmed that we had reached the area west of Lake Angel.
Indeed, in that region, we found very rustic walls and terraces constructed for agricultural purposes. The Taperachi, a tributary of the Ticumpinea, is a powerful river. Its current is incredibly strong—there isn’t even a meter of calm water.
We walked along its treacherous banks, slipping on rocks and zigzagging between fallen trees and muddy areas. Often, we had to move through the jungle with machetes, as some parts of the river were so narrow and enclosed by high rock walls that it was impossible to walk along its edges.
During this phase of the ascent, we were repeatedly attacked by swarms of aggressive wasps that appeared before six in the morning and hovered around us until after sunset. On the return journey, after reaching a high point between the Taperachi and Ticumpinea, we faced many challenges, including encounters with vipers locally known as “marionetos.”
One night, our tent nearly caught fire—with us inside! Fortunately, I’m a light sleeper, and in my semi-conscious state, I sensed something strange outside the tent. It turned out that the tent ropes had caught fire. Within seconds, we exited the tent and tried to extinguish the fire however we could—Paulino burned his palms in the process.
By the time we reached Quebrada Honda, I had lost about 10 kilograms, even though we had access to ample calories during the expedition.
Yuri Leveratto: During most of your expeditions, you’ve come into contact with the Matsiguenka people. They are generally known to be peaceful but somewhat unfriendly and shy. What can you tell us about their way of life?
Gregory Deyermenjian: Based on my field experiences and studies, the Matsiguenkas exhibit very particular behavior. Their psychology has also been influenced by the rubber exploitation era, during which terrible abuses were committed against all the native peoples of the jungle.
This created a profound sense of mistrust toward the outside world, leading them to isolate themselves further, living in remote, hard-to-reach places. While the Matsiguenkas are generally peaceful among themselves, they are highly wary of strangers until they know them well.
For this reason, when traveling in their lands, I prefer to have one of them accompany us to show others that our intentions are good—focused on studying and valuing archaeological sites.
The Matsiguenkas are mainly interested in maintaining friendships among themselves and in whatever is useful for surviving in remote, dangerous areas: tools and food (cassava makes up 90% of their diet).
Although there are various legends identifying the Matsiguenkas as the “guardians of Paititi,” in reality, I believe they aren’t interested in ancient ruins since they hold no practical value for them.
They are peaceful up to a point, especially in remote areas rarely visited by Peruvian settlers. They fear and detest outsiders who are noisy, aggressive, or violent and will either distance themselves or try to eliminate such individuals, one way or another.
Due to the extremely challenging environment they inhabit (the high jungle), they have developed a very particular psychology. For instance, if they see someone in danger (like a person drowning in a river), they believe the problem was caused by the person themselves for reasons unknown to them. They think that person must save themselves without relying on anyone else.
While I’ve personally experienced the grace and kindness of Matsiguenka individuals with whom I’ve had the privilege of spending time, there are various aspects of their personality that can be very difficult to understand—not only for people like us, who were born and raised in a completely different reality, but even for Peruvian farmers who don’t live far from them.
For example, when I was nearly drowning in the Palotoa River near the Pusharo petroglyphs in 1991, the Matsiguenka who accompanied us, “Alejandro,” was laughing from the riverbank instead of helping me.
Overall, however, I can say that during my return journeys from expeditions, I’ve had the opportunity to spend significant time with these people and have come to appreciate their dignity.
Yuri Leveratto: During the days we spent together in Cusco, I noticed that archaeological exploration is very important to you. But at the same time, I had the impression that the search for Paititi, unlike for some “adventurers,” is not an obsession for you. What can you tell me about that?
Gregory Deyermenjian: For me, exploration—and specifically the search for possible answers regarding the existence, location, and nature of “Paititi” in the Peruvian jungle—is very important.
But I also know that the world is vast, and one day we’ll leave it behind. Throughout these years, the greatest treasure—greater than any treasure that might be discovered in the jungle—has been my family, my wife and children, and my friends.
Yuri Leveratto: I get the impression that you’ve reached a state of inner peace. Perhaps you’ve already found the true Paititi, the serenity we all aspire to?
Gregory Deyermenjian: In reality, my life is full of worries and difficulties I could never have imagined. But, thank God, I have good health and strong faith.
Moreover, I’ve been fortunate enough to challenge myself in an extraordinary world—that of extreme expeditions in lands that are still marked on maps as DATOS INSUFICIENTES or NO DATA AVAILABLE.
YURI LEVERATTO
