An Aymara woman from Corque Marka, Bolivia, can tell when a llama is sick before any veterinarian trained in Western medicine. She notices it by the way the animal walks, the way it moves its head, and by whether it drinks from stagnant water when there is no other clean source, since llamas rarely drink contaminated water. This is how María Eugenia Choque Quispe, an Aymara woman and manager of the Center for Aymara Multidisciplinary Studies (CEM) in the Corque Marka community, explains it. 

The population of Corque Marka, a community 90 kilometers from the city of Oruro, in the Ayllus north of Potosí, is of Aymara origin, and most of its population speaks Aymara and Spanish. The territory is organized into 14 Ayllus (families) belonging to the Jacha Karangas Nation of Bolivia. However, Northern Potosí is a historically Quechua region, characterized by the presence of mining communities and trilingualism in Aymara, Quechua, and Spanish. In both territories, the llama has been, for centuries, a domesticated animal, but also an economic, spiritual, and social pillar of the Aymara people.

"The people are known for being llama herders. Llamas provide for them economically and serve as intermediaries between Mother Nature and the people,” María Eugenia explains. Families here live off the llamas, but they also relate to them as part of a broader system that includes the land, cultural practices, and forms of authority. On average, Corque Marka families have between 100 to 350 animals.

In Bolivia, it is estimated that there are more than 2 million llamas nationwide, representing 62.5% of the global population of this species. The department of Oruro is home to the majority of the country’s total herd, and camelid herding is a widespread activity throughout the Altiplano. Mining activities in the region—both legal and illegal—are contaminating rivers and soil with heavy metals such as arsenic, cadmium, and lead. Added to this are the forced migration of young people, economic crisis and lack of opportunities, territorial conflicts, and the impacts of climate change—these are the main threats facing the Aymara people in the Corque Marka community and the Ayllus of Northern Potosí.

As a method of community resistance, knowledge of llama care and health is quite exclusive. It is linked to cultural practices, ritual cycles, and forms of organization within Aymara territory that have deep roots in Andean history. Those with the greatest expertise are called qulliris, yatiris or healers, and have extensive experience in the use of medicinal plants for the healing of both animals and humans.

Many plants, such as chillka, María Eugenia explains, have been used by healers as treatments for infections, fractures, or skin conditions in llamas, which are cured through infusions, baths, or direct application. Knowledge regarding dosage, combinations, and the appropriate times for use is not openly shared. The healers themselves have set limits on what can and cannot be disclosed, out of a need to protect this knowledge as collective property

Currently, this knowledge exists under peril from two fronts that affect livestock rearing. The first is climate change. “There is less and less water, and the conditions of the land have changed. The llamas have to travel longer distances to find water and grass; this wears them out and makes them sick,” María Eugenia explains. When the available water is of poor quality (for example, in stagnant pools), the llamas contract infections caused by microorganisms.

On the other hand, the dryness of the soil has injured their hooves, which require constant moisture to stay in good condition. Added to this are seasonal dynamics that exacerbate the situation, such as the prolonged confinement of llamas in pens during the cold season, where the spread of disease increases.

The second challenge is generational and educational. In technical training institutions, such as those dedicated to veterinary medicine, traditional knowledge has no place in the curriculum. Instructors, often from urban backgrounds, prioritize academic content that does not align with local practices. Children who still live in close contact with their families retain knowledge about llama care and the use of the Aymara language, but young people who move on to higher education are losing that connection.

It is at this intersection—where territory changes and knowledge fades—that CEM Aymara intervenes. With the support of the International Indigenous Women’s Forum (FIMI) and funding from the International Agricultural Development Fund (IFAD), through its Indigenous Peoples’ Assistance Facility (IPAF), this organization implemented a project to revive ancestral medicine, organizing a series of workshops to identify plants and share healing experiences. The goal was to document the knowledge already held by Aymara women so that it can circulate, be reinforced, and adapt to new conditions in the territory.

Llama healing practices, María Eugenia explains, are intertwined with ritualistic practices. Before gathering plants or preparing medicine, the communities make offerings. During Carnival season, for example, they perform the K’illpha ritual, in which the llama takes on the same symbolic meaning as Mother Earth: songs are dedicated to it, and it is celebrated as a protective deity. The effectiveness of healing medical treatments is linked to a relationship with nature and the sacred.

To document this knowledge—from healing to ritualistic significance—CEM Aymara has opted for audiovisual formats that record these experiences. The videos document each stage: the times of the year when plants are harvested, the ritual offering that precedes any concoction, and how llamas traverse through the territory during the healing process. “These are short videos, made so that people can watch them, and also as a form of scientific archive for the youth,” says María Eugenia. However, not all information can appear in the on-screen record. It is the healers who decide what is shown and what is not.

When a llama falls ill, it affects a whole network of relationships that sustain life on the Altiplano. That is why the work of CEM Aymara is not limited to healing animals, but rather to strengthening the capacity of communities and caring for life through their own knowledge, from their own perspective on the world. Caring for llamas is, actually, a profound act of resistance and continuity. It keeps a system alive that, despite external threats, continues to overcome and sustains the economy, culture, and the sacred bond with the land.