The Mystery of the Queseras

David Riebold visits the oldest examples of design on the island, the mysterious Queseras carved by ancient native islanders. Photos by Clare Carter Osborne.

“If you like Southend-on-sea, you will love Puerto del Carmen” is a truism for some but not me. I’m Southend born and bred but I never much cared for the place and so, although the beer here is cheaper, and the beaches hugely better, the type of mass tourism that this island attracts has limited appeal for me. I’m very happy to reside far from Puerto in sleepy Haria; lovely friendly people, stunning landscape and the fascinating flora that has become a major interest.

I increasingly hear passionate indignation from some fellow Brits resident here about the supposed effects of immigration ‘back home’, and am a little puzzled that these folk are apparently unaware that they are themselves immigrants, too often ignorant of the local culture that their arrival here is rapidly eradicating. I might find myself even more provoked by this obvious hypocrisy were it not for some ambiguity of sentiment among the local population.

By the time of the final Spanish conquest, five centuries ago, the native Majo population (a Berber-descended tribe of the Guanches who arrived here around 1000 BCE) had already been severely reduced by European-introduced diseases and slave raids. As a result the few hundred survivors made peace with the Spanish colonists and intermarriage became common.

The population that encountered the first wave of tourism in the ’60’s were descendants of Spanish settlers and the Majos. Talking to local people, a fierce pride in their unique history soon becomes apparent alongside an awareness of distinctions between them and people on the Spanish mainland. At the same time this pride seems tinged with the fact that for centuries, the island was a neglected backwater of Spain and a hardship posting for civil servants, where living conditions for many were effectively stone age. Perhaps this knowledge explains the neglect of this island’s ancient constructions.

Many of the island’s prehistoric remains were buried or destroyed by the Timanfaya eruption and others may be lost under our main rubbish dump in Zonzamas. That name comes from the Majo town that existed there, an important hub of island civilization between the 5th and 8th centuries. The siting of the dump was a deliberate policy of the Franco regime, who tried to eliminate all traces of the native Canarians.

I would like to mention just one of the ancient constructions in that region which can be found by driving to the Zonzamas rubbish dump – half-way along the road that takes you from the Manrique foundation to San Bartolome. Park beside the entrance to the dump and walk along the track (on your left, facing the entrance) for about 20 mins. Look out for a faded signpost, slightly uphill, to the left of the path. Here lies the Quesera of Zonzamas; five channels. up to half a metre deep, carved into the basalt rock. Even with modern power tools this would be a major undertaking, quite how this was managed so long ago is an enigma.

The name quesera refers to a cheeseboard and I have been told, variably, that the name is linked to the carvings’ resemblance to a giant cheese mould or to cheese having been placed inside as an ‘offering’ to ancient gods. I don’t find either account convincing and believe that the carvings have nothing to do with cheese but are instead a solar/lunar calendar since they are aligned with solstices and equinoxes. One remarkable observation is that one of the carved strips appears to indicate the addition of an extra day to maintain calendar accuracy, similar to leap years in modern calendars.

We are nowadays constantly dazzled by the marvels of modern technology, sometimes forgetting the input of past generations. As Newton famously said; ‘If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants’ – I would suggest that these stone-age scientists who first started to make sense of their environment are true giants and deserve far more honour than they get here. David Shilham, the local photographer (do check out his work on Facebook!), took me to a couple of smaller ‘queseras’, one in Yaiza, the other near the Jameos del Agua, both lacking even the rusting signpost that you will find at Zonzamas. He suggested that perhaps such obscurity is best as it avoids graffiti and vandalism. Do you agree, or do you perhaps share my view that these primitive technologists who started with so little, deserve more respect than contemporary equivalents like Elon Musk, who started with so much?