3

Hearths, Grinding Stones, and Households:

Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes
Robin Coleman Goldstein
Northwestern University

ABSTRACT
This case study of Andean house remains in central Peru adopts a gendered perspective and, on the basis of archae-
ological evidence, challenges the normalized domestic model of “lo Andino.” Although most Andean archaeological
studies equate economically independent households with independent structures, this analysis reexamines the ac-
curacy of this convention. The presence of a grinding stone, an essential tool of an economically independent unit,
varies among house structures, which suggests that multiple houses shared labor on a daily basis.
Keywords: Andes, household, household archaeology, domestic economy, grinding stones

E thnohistoric records from the Spanish Conquest, as well

as ethnographic research on traditional Andean life-
ways, have generated the concept of “lo Andino,” which
has often guided archaeological interpretations of the pre-
historic Andes (Van Buren 1996). Part of this concept re-
lies on an agrarian model that characterizes the coresiden-
tial household as the “basic economic unit” on the basis of
the agricultural production that occurs outside of the house
structure and is typically associated with men; communal
work (i.e., supra-household production) within the ayllu, or
community kin group, is only performed at specific times ac-
cording to the agricultural cycle (yanantin; see Urton 1997).
This model, however, ignores the part of the domestic econ-
omy that occurs within the house, a sphere of activity most
commonly associated with women. In accepting these basic
tenets, scholars have failed to question the implicit eco-
nomic order, social relationships, and gender roles that this
model assumes. This case study of Andean household re-
mains in central Peru draws on a gendered perspective of ar-
chaeological evidence to challenge the normalized domestic
model of “lo Andino.” In the normative “lo Andino” model,
men and women living in single coresidential units perform
gender-divided, noncollaborative domestic tasks on a daily
basis. This analysis shifts the focus of the domestic economy
and its organization from the production-associated agrar-
ian “male” component to the multifaceted site of the house
and, in doing so, redefines the social dynamics of household
production.
By starting from the archaeological record and the ar-
tifacts of daily living, we can develop a more accurate un-
derstanding of everyday life and the domestic economy in
the past. This chapter examines household excavations from
six sites in the Andes and identifies the presence and ab-
sence of two features, hearths and grinding stones, that are
essential elements of the Andean domestic tool kit. The
case study sites are located in the Upper Mantaro Valley in
central Peru (Figure 3.1): the sites of Hatunmarca, Tunan-
marca, and Umpamalca date to the Late Intermediate pe-
riod Wanka II (1350–1450 C.E.) and Marca, Chucchus, and
Huancas de la Cruz date to Wanka III (1450–1533 C.E.), dur-
ing the Inka Empire (D’Altroy and Hastorf 2001; Earle et al.
1987).
Archaeologists have often used hearths as markers of
domestic units because of their nonportable nature. Unlike
some domestic artifacts, such as ceramic pots and stone
tools, that can be transported upon abandonment of a do-
mestic unit, evidence of a hearth is literally burned into
floors or living surfaces and remains for archaeologists

ARCHEOLOGICAL PAPERS OF THE AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION, Vol. 18, Issue 1, pp. 37–48, ISSN 1551-823X,
online ISSN 1551-8248. 
C 2008 by the American Anthropological Association. All rights reserved. DOI: 10.1111/j.1551-8248.2008.00003.x.
38
Figure 3.1. Mantaro River Valley with archaeological sites: 2, Hatunmarca; 7, Tunan-
marca; 41, Umpamalca; 54, Marca; 74, Chucchus; 59, Huancas de la Cruz (redrawn from
Earle et al. 1987:Figure 1).
to uncover. Ethnographically, however, hearths do not al-
ways represent independent domestic units (Weismantel
1988).
Despite clear ethnographic evidence that grinding
stones are fundamental to cooking technology in the Andes,
they have largely not been considered essential to the domes-
tic tool kit (Aldenderfer and Stanish 1993; Nash 2002; Owen
1993; Stanish 1992; for an exception see Russell 1988). This
is because although grinding stones often appear in domes-
tic contexts, their presence is variable in the archaeological
record: a single grindstone is not always associated with a
single hearth and single domestic unit. Some scholars sug-
gest that the uneven presence of grinding stones is a result
of abandonment or postabandonment processes, in which
fleeing populations took their grinding stones with them or
new populations moving into the region removed the stones
for their own use (Nash 2002). Although these possibilities
cannot be ruled out, it is important to realize that these
Robin Coleman Goldstein
occurrences were also probably variable and depended
largely on local circumstances of tradition and practice. In
this study, I examine distribution patterns of the passive por-
tion of the grinding stone, the batán, a large, flat or concave
stone, often weighing over 20 kilograms. Migrating popu-
lations abandoning a site had to consider the practicality of
transporting these cumbersome, heavy stones; if the grind-
ing stones were in fact transported, despite their weight, then
this may demonstrate a cultural preference, and we would
not expect to find many of these implements at abandoned
sites. Postabandonment processes of grinding stone removal
would also depend on local factors, such as the proximity of
the abandoned site to more recent settlements. Although the
removal and reuse of grinding stones can affect their distri-
bution at a site, unless all grinding stones were removed, a
general pattern of distribution should still be preserved.
I suggest that this patterning is significant and can be
analyzed to understand domestic economic organization at
Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes
a site. The material evidence calls for a reevaluation of our
a priori assumptions of economic organization and gender
roles. Given the distribution of grinding stones and hearths
within sites, I suggest that on an everyday basis, the single
coresidential unit was not an independent economic unit;
instead, multiple coresidential units engaged in commu-
nal activities of a domestic nature. The presumed male–
female economic unit typically adopted in Andean archae-
ology largely ignores a more complex and flexible domestic
economy that incorporates men and women of different life
stages into a variety of everyday production and consump-
tion activities.
A Gendered Approach
Gendered anthropology, now considered just “good an-
thropology,” recognizes that people and the intersection of
their sex, gender, life stage, social status, et cetera com-
pose the social relationships of the past and present and
play basic roles in the construction of broader social pro-
cesses (e.g., Brumfiel 1991, 1992, 1996; Conkey and Spector
1984; Gero and Scattolin 2002; Hastorf 1991; Robin 2002).
An engendered approach does not just identify women and
their roles: it identifies people of different ages, genders,
life stages, and so on. In this chapter, I suggest an engen-
dered approach to understanding domestic production in the
Andes. The gender-divided dynamic of men working in the
field and women processing the harvest, typically adopted
by archaeologists in the Andes, is linked to defining the ba-
sic economic unit, the household, as a single coresidential
house, where tasks are gender divided. The archaeologi-
cal evidence, however, demonstrates that these coresidential
units do not have the complete tool set necessary for ev-
eryday production and consumption, which challenges as-
sumptions regarding gender roles and division of labor. A
new model for domestic economy in the Andes that takes
into consideration the multiple aspects of everyday produc-
tion and consumption is needed. Here, I start with the houses
and the everyday implements and features associated with
them; by looking at how these vary, I provide an alternative
to the typical domestic economic model.
Household Archaeology and Definitions
Household archaeology is a burgeoning field that has al-
ready provided numerous insights into understanding social
relationships, the domestic economy, gender roles, division
of labor, and other areas of study. Wilk and Rathje (1982)
first defined this approach in the early 1980s and it has taken
a firm hold in Mesoamerica, with archaeologists in other
39
regions rapidly following suit (e.g., Bawden 1982; D’Altroy
and Hastorf 2001; Earle et al. 1987; Hendon 1996; Kent
1987; King 2006; Robin 2002; Sheets 1999; Stanish 1989;
Wilk and Ashmore 1988). Ethnographers, anthropologists,
and sociologists have wrestled with definitions of “house-
hold,” “kin group,” “domestic unit,” and the like for decades.
Defining a unit that can be identified and analyzed across
cultures and millennia is difficult because of the diversity of
the past and present.
In archaeology, however, a need to compare households
has prompted their definition in terms of function, not form
or kinship: households are social groups that share in a
definable number of activities and they can be identified
empirically in archaeological samples after extended study
(Ashmore and Wilk 1988:4). Members do not have to core-
side (although they often do), and individuals can belong to
more than one household. Because the definition is based
on activities, rather than on physical components or familial
relations, Ashmore and Wilk’s concept of the household is
cross-culturally applicable; the basic functions of a house-
hold hold firm regardless of time and space (Ashmore and
Wilk 1988:4). The four general functions of a household are
classified as production; distribution or consumption; trans-
mission and transference of property, rights, and roles; and
cultural reproduction via child socialization (Aldenderfer
and Stanish 1993:6; Ashmore and Wilk 1988:4; Wilk and
Rathje 1982:622–631). To define a household in the ar-
chaeological record, archaeologists have to identify these
functions.
In the Andes, archaeologists have largely accepted the
idea of the “household” as a basic economic unit (Bawden
1993; D’Altroy and Hastorf 2001; Earle et al. 1987; Nash
2002; Stanish 1992). The household has been employed
as a way of identifying daily subsistence practices and the
organization of everyday activities. In his study of verti-
cal complementarity in the Andes, Stanish (1992) identi-
fies the household as “co-residential work units.” Follow-
ing Goody (1982), he asserts that agricultural work units
tend to coreside, and the dwelling unit, reproductive unit,
and economic unit are closely linked. According to Stan-
ish, this “co-residential agriculture work and habitational
unit” (Stanish 1992:38) should appear in the archaeologi-
cal record as remains of domestic activities such as hearths,
storage, sleeping areas, kitchen middens, and nonelite res-
idential structures. In each “unit,” these activity patterns
should repeat; thus, independent household units can be
identified by duplicated areas of the domestic production and
consumption activities. These material correlates of house-
hold functions, however, are based on ethnographic and eth-
nohistoric models that assume coresidence; this assump-
tion narrows the scope of study to physical structures and
40
nullifies any attempt to define “household” on the basis of
activities.
Recent studies have demonstrated that single coresi-
dences are not the only economic units with evidence of
daily production and consumption (Goldstein 2007). Nash
(2002), in her study of Wari households in the south-central
Andes, has suggested that independent domestic units (res-
idences) are not necessarily economically independent:
Mothers, associated with cooking fires, define the sim-
plest family group—a woman and those to whom she
serves food. Nevertheless these food preparation divi-
sions do not necessarily carry over into other productive
tasks that benefit the larger group spread out in several
structures. Meals may be cooked in separate rooms, but
prepared food may be sent between structures to main-
tain ties that coordinate larger labor activities. [Nash
2002:51]
The classification of the household as a coresidential
work unit is drawn from the agrarian production component
of the domestic economy: men from a single house tend their
own fields and provide for the family members who live with
them. Although this may accurately describe agricultural
production (although perhaps not), it does not address the
complementary component of the domestic economy that
occurs within the house, where women, as well as men,
perform an essential portion of domestic labor on a daily
basis.
Many studies have looked at how agrarian production
is divided into everyday agricultural production and only
occasional events of communal production; fewer have ex-
amined the productive activities that occur outside of the
fields. Instead, the domestic economy as a whole has been
characterized by a labor model that really has only been
demonstrated to apply to agricultural production. By us-
ing archaeological remains as a guide and not an a priori
assumption of domestic organization, we can develop cul-
turally appropriate models of basic economic organization
in past societies.
In this chapter I will use “house” to mean a coresiden-
tial structure in which at least some members of a household
reside. “Household” signifies an independent economic, and
presumably social, unit. I do not equate the house with
the household—that is, those who live together in a sin-
gle structure do not necessarily form the basic economic
unit.
Deconstructing the Traditional Household
and Labor Organization
In traditional descriptions of domestic economy in the
Andes, the household shares daily tasks of an agrarian nature
Robin Coleman Goldstein
and lives in a single structure or in adjoining structures. Eth-
nohistoric records of the Inka Empire have contributed to
the development of this house-based model of the house-
hold. The Inka Empire was largely organized as a means
of extracting labor and tribute from its populace (D’Altroy
and Earle 1985; Earle 1994). Drawing on Goody (1982) and
Mayer (1977), Stanish (1992:27) suggests that during this
period, the basic tax unit was the “traditional household,”
a married couple and their children, who worked together
as a unit to provide tribute. Within the household, the gov-
ernment categorized all individuals into different classes on
the basis of their productive capacity (Guamán Poma 1956
[1613]:137). Infants, children, adults, elders, and disabled
individuals were classified according to their abilities to pro-
vide labor or tribute to the empire: “[the empire] separated
the Indians into ten classes to be able to count them, in order
that they were employed in work according to their capacity
and that there were no idle people in this reign” (Guamán
Poma 1956 [1613]:137; my translation). Each age and gen-
der was assigned a specific role, according to seasonal activ-
ities, and was required to participate in the maintenance of
the household. Men engaged in seasonal agriculture, as well
as lithic production and some herding; women also played
a role in seasonal agricultural work, as well as spinning,
weaving, and herding; children were responsible for many
small tasks, such as gathering fuel wood, plants for dyes, or
herbs, as well as herding (Guamán Poma 1956 [1613]).
Individuals were embedded within extended kin groups,
ayllus, that provided a larger network of social and eco-
nomic support on a limited basis. Even so, they were es-
sential components of pre-Hispanic Andean life: members
cooperated in the management of land and herds held in
common, as well as in networks of reciprocal labor ex-
change. Labor in an Andean community has thus been di-
vided into two discrete entities: household and corporate.
These two units, however, are both bound by the same rela-
tionships: kinship. Ethnohistorians describe the role of the
ayllu, or community kin group, in relation to punctuated
events of agricultural production, such as the harvest or
canal cleaning; they do not, however, specifically address
the role that these kin relationships played on an everyday
basis. I suggest, on the basis of a reinterpretation of Guamán
Poma’s descriptions, and, later, archaeological evidence, that
although an ayllu probably did not form a basic domestic
work unit, closer kin members that belonged to the same
ayllu probably did participate on an everyday basis to pro-
vide the basic economic requirements that sustained a house-
hold. Instead of single house units constituting single house-
holds, it is more likely that individuals from multiple houses
pooled labor on a daily basis to meet the requirements of
daily life.
Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes
Although Guamán Poma’s ethnohistoric documentation
of household productive tasks highlights the roles of indi-
viduals, it also emphasizes the necessity of an integrated
household for efficient production. Many different types of
labor were required to maintain a household and provide
tribute. Guamán Poma’s description, however, does not de-
fine the members that make up a household. His accounts
of different age-grade tasks describe a network of individ-
uals who mutually support one another in their work on a
daily basis: children help their parents or grandparents, as
well as care for the “young ones” of the household; an in-
fant is cared for by his or her mother, who is helped by her
sisters, her grandparents, her aunts, or any other nearby rel-
ative (Guamán Poma 1956 [1613]:164). Although the Inka
Empire extracted tribute based on a single household unit,
it is unclear whether this limited daily economic ties among
these units.
As seen in Guamán Poma’s description of everyday do-
mestic tasks, related individuals worked together to maintain
the households. As recognized by both Weismantel (1988)
and Lambert (1977) in their ethnographic research, house-
hold tasks are more easily accomplished by pooling the
economic potential of multiple individuals and households.
Instead of employing a model that isolates domestic pro-
duction from corporate production, it may be more useful
to recognize the potential integration of house and supra-
house production. By looking at the degree of integration
of house economies, we can enhance our understanding of
the reality that may or may not correspond to the ideal
model.
An Archaeological Approach:
Grinding Stones
The archaeological record and the artifacts of daily life
enable us to develop a more accurate understanding of daily
life and the domestic economy than that derived solely from
ethnohistoric and ethnographic sources. Once we have iden-
tified the tools essential for domestic production, we can
assess the degree to which coresidentiality and economic
work units correlate, which will refine our understanding
of households and their economic activities. We can begin
to understand how household production and consumption
shaped daily life in the past.
In the Andes, essential elements that compose the do-
mestic tool kit include a hearth, cooking pots, and a grinding
stone (Bollinger 1993; Johnsson 1986; Weismantel 1988).
Although hearths and cookware are typically associated
with domestic contexts, the presence or absence of grinding
stones has not been considered. As Bollinger, an Andean
41
scholar, reports, “In the domestic economy, there were es-
sential pits that served as storage. Equally important was the
recipient for grinding and the grinding stone (batán) to grind
maize” (Bollinger 1993:27; my translation). In his study of a
Bolivian Aymara community, Johnsson also notes that “[t]he
most important piece of equipment in every kitchen, after
the hearth, is the grinding stone, k’iaña. The stone, which is
used several times a day, can have various shapes” (Johnsson
1986:47). Grinding stones are still essential tools of house-
holds today (although they are increasingly being replaced
by blenders and the convenience of preprocessed flours), and
they probably served a similarly important function in the
past.
Grinding stones are used to grind a variety of grains
or tubers to make flour (Bollinger 1993:32). They are
used to extract oils from vegetables, such as maize or
peanuts (Bollinger 1993:32); they also are used to press
and mince vegetables for cooking (Johnsson 1986:47).
Different-shaped stones are used for different activities:
round, flat, or oblong stones are used to grind or mince,
while spherical stones are used to tenderize meat (Johnsson
1986:47). Some grinding stones are stationary, a household
fixture, and others are portable, depending on their specific
uses. In the Andes, the types of foods that were ground in the
past probably varied according to available resources; how-
ever, hard grains such as quinoa, maize, or kiwicha, which
grew in different ecological zones, could have all been pro-
cessed on grinding stones, either to remove the chaff or to
make flour.
In her study of Zumbagua life in the Ecuadorian An-
des, Weismantel (1988) suggests that grinding stones often
serve as markers of a household’s life stage; thus, not all
households have grinding stones, and others may have more
than one. When the children of a household grow up and
marry, they do not always establish their own home right
away. Even when the couple move out of the parents’ home
and begin to cook their own meals, they often do not have a
grinding stone but return to the parents’ home to complete
this daily task. Weismantel suggests that this is a conscious
economic decision: large households, with various gener-
ations of inhabitants, have a greater capacity to complete
daily household tasks.
In the Andes, hearths and food remains have been em-
ployed as markers of domestic activity because they are
essential elements for food production: cooking requires
hearths and leaves behind distinct residues. Despite clear
ethnographic evidence that grinding stones are fundamental
to cooking technology in the Andes, they have not been con-
sidered essential to the domestic tool kit. Grinding stones
often appear in domestic contexts, but their presence is vari-
able: a single grindstone is not always associated with a
42 Robin Coleman Goldstein

single hearth and single domestic unit. Given the everyday

role grinding stones play presently in Andean peasant soci-
ety and probably played in the past, their presence or absence
should be taken into account to understand how the domestic
economy functioned on a daily basis.

Case Study: Mantaro Valley

I examine domestic excavations from six sites in the

highland Andes of central Peru and identify the presence
and absence of two features in individual house compounds:
hearths and grinding stones. The sites that compose the Up-
per Mantaro Archaeological Research Project (UMARP)
date to the Late Intermediate period and Late Horizon
(1000–1450 C.E. and 1450–1533 C.E., respectively) (Figure
3.1). The data for this study were compiled from the UMARP
site report (Earle et al. 1987), Glenn Russell’s (1988) dis-
sertation on stone tools, and the edited volume Empire and
Domestic Economy (D’Altroy and Hastorf 2001). I am not
identifying a pan-Andean practice of domestic organization,
but I highlight potential avenues of future research based on
the presence or absence of material evidence. Although other
household studies exist in the Andes, the horizontal exca-
vations of domestic contexts of UMARP are exceptional in
that excavation records provide plans identifying both grind-
ing stones and hearths. Grinding stone counts are based on
the presence of fragmentary or whole batanes, the passive
components of grinding implements.
Excavations focus on elite and commoner houses, but
for this study only commoner houses are examined because,
as part of feasting, elite houses often process and prepare
foods for nonhousehold members, which could skew the re-
sults (Russell 1988). The sample of houses is drawn from six
sites in the Mantaro Valley: Hatunmarca (J2), Tunanmarca
(J7), Umpamalca (J41), Marca (J54), Chucchus (J74), and
Huancas de la Cruz (J59) (Earle et al. 1987). Houses consist
of at least one structure and a walled patio; excavated areas
range from 12 to 100 percent of the total patio group area.
Twenty-nine patio groups were at least partially excavated,
17 nonelite and 12 elite; 16 of the nonelite patio groups are
analyzed in this study (records for one of the nonelite patio
groups were incomplete).

Analysis
The patio groups of commoner houses have between
one and three separate structures within a single compound
(Figure 3.2a–c; Table 3.1). Drawing from Weismantel’s ob-
servations in the Ecuadorian highlands, I propose that house
composition varies according to its “life stage.” Thus, a more
Figure 3.2. Examples of compounds with one to three separate
structures: (a) Patio group J7 = 4, a one-structure patio group
(redrawn from Earle et al. 1987:Figure 8); (b) Patio group J41 = 5,
a two-structure patio group (redrawn from Earle et al. 1987:Figure
22); (c) Patio group J7 = 8, a three-structure patio group; the
northeast structures without numbers do not open onto the shared
patio of J7 = 8 and were not considered part of this patio group
(redrawn from Earle et al. 1987:Figure 14).
Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes 43

Table 3.1. Area excavated, number of fragmentary or whole grinding stones, and number of hearths in nonelite patio groups

No. of Grinding
Stones Standardized
Period Structure No. of Structures Area Excavated (%) No. of Grinding Stones for Area (%) Excavated No. of Hearths
WII 2=4 1 29 2 7 0
WII 7=4 1 100 0 0 0
WII 7=5 1 27 1 4 1
WII 7=6 1 46 1 2 0
WII 7=8 3 34 7 21 0
WII 7=9 1 35 0 0 0
WII 41 = 4 1 81 1 1 1
WII 41 = 5 2 58 0 0 0
WII 41 = 7 1 20 0 0 1
WIII 2 = 6/III 1 18.7 0 0 0
WIII 54 = 2 3 66 10 15 1
WIII 54 = 9/C 1 33 0 0 3
WIII 54 = 10 3 17 5 29 0
WIII 59 = 1 3 Unknown 1 Unknown 1
WIII 74 = 1 2 12 2 16 2
WIII 74 = 2 2 18 5 27 0
Note: WII = Wanka II; WIII = Wanka III. See Figure 3.1 for site numbers.

“mature” dwelling would house a larger group of people and
enable it to function more efficiently. “Younger” dwellings,
on the other hand, whose members are far fewer, often rely
on the efficiency of the larger, parent dwellings for everyday
necessities. Applying this to the Mantaro case, all else be-
ing relatively equal, a dwelling with more structures has the
potential to house more individuals than a single-structure
compound. If Weismantel’s observation that the number of
grinding stones in a house correlates with its age applies to
the Mantaro houses, we should see a correlation between
the number of structures and the number of grinding stones,
a necessary tool required for the labor-intensive, everyday
chore of grinding various foodstuffs required for house-
hold production. Houses without grinding stones should be
“younger,” and they probably maintained a close relation-
ship to other house compounds to fulfill their daily domestic
economic needs.
The excavation sampling strategy of UMARP focused
on recovering the widest variability of features and artifacts
(described in Earle et al. 1987:12–14) within each patio
group. Even so, because the house compounds were not
always completely excavated, we have to consider the like-
lihood that our sample of grinding stones and hearths may
be skewed as a result of partial excavations. Attempting to
standardize the data set, however, presents some problems.
If we standardize the samples for the area excavated, we
are assuming that the grinding stones are evenly distributed
throughout the area of the patio group, which is probably
not the case; this also cannot address the houses in which
no grinding stones were found. However, if we look to see
whether there is a correlation between the amount of area ex-
cavated and the number of grinding stones recovered, it turns
out that this correlation is not significant (–.057). Thus, it
does not appear that the percent of area excavated per com-
pound significantly affects the number of grinding stones
excavated (Figure 3.3).
When we look for correlations between the number of
structures in a patio group and the number of grinding stones,
we find a correlation coefficient of .738, significant to the
.01 level (Table 3.2). When this is standardized for percent
excavated, the value is reduced only slightly to .652, also
significant at the .01 level. Thus, regardless of the area exca-
vated, we find a significant correlation between the number
of structures in a patio group and the number of grinding
stones present. However, four of the samples are based on
less than 20-percent excavated area of patio groups. If we
discard these samples on the basis that they are too small
to be representative and then analyze the correlations be-
tween the number of structures and grinding stones, the
correlation coefficient increases to .878, significant to the
.01 level; standardized for percent excavated, the correlation
coefficient remains significant, .847, also at the .01 level
(Table 3.2).
The relationship between the number of structures and
the number of hearths does not follow this pattern. In nine
of the 16 cases, no hearths were excavated within the patio
groups; in seven, one or more hearths were present. Once
again, we must consider the effect of partial excavations on
44 Robin Coleman Goldstein

Figure 3.3. Graph showing the lack of correlation between the percent of each patio group excavated and the number of
grinding stones recovered.

Table 3.2. Correlation of number of structures within patio groups to number of grinding
stones and hearths

Relationships Pearson’s Correlation Significance

Structures–grinding stones
Uncorrected .738 .01 (two-tailed)
Corrected .652 .01 (two-tailed)
Structures–grinding stones,
greater than 20% excavated
Uncorrected .878 .01 (two-tailed)
Corrected .847 .01 (two-tailed)
Structures–hearths
Uncorrected –.075 Not significant
Corrected –.057 Not significant
Structures–hearths,greater
than 20% excavated
Uncorrected –.156 Not significant
Corrected –.279 Not significant

the recovery of hearths; in this case, however, it is more
difficult given the multiple patio groups where no hearths
were found. For these cases, we cannot project with much
confidence the potential number of hearths expected for
each house compound. Although it does not appear that
there is a correlation between the number of structures and
the number of hearths (–.075), even when corrected for area
excavated (–.057), the only certainty is that the distribution
of hearths appears to be more variable than the distribution
of grinding stones (Table 3.2). How can we make sense of
Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes
these inconsistent patterns of hearths and grinding stones,
two basic necessities of a functioning household?
Discussion
The patterning of grinding stones and house structures
is consistent with Weismantel’s model: the greater the num-
ber of structures, the greater the number of grinding stones
associated with the house compound. This is not altogether
surprising if we consider that more people are living in
these larger compounds and thus require more food pro-
cessing to support their economic needs. However, taken
together with the absence of grinding stones in some pa-
tio groups, a pattern of shared economic resources begins
to emerge. Grinding stones are associated with a task that
requires substantial time and labor investment. By coupling
the economic activities of smaller households with those
of larger households, the smaller household can depend on
a larger labor pool that often includes many children who
are capable of completing multiple tasks, such as grinding.
Weismantel describes how a well-established household has
more household members, as well as a more elaborate food
production tool kit: “This household was well into the most
expanded phase in its life cycle, with in-laws and grandchil-
dren in residence. This fact was represented by the presence
of two kutana rumis, big grinding stones, on the kitchen
floor” (Weismantel 1988:176). Older houses, with multiple
generations, have more available labor, which makes them
economically more productive. Younger houses remain in-
timately connected with their parent houses, and this plays
out on a daily basis when members of a younger house rely
on parent houses to aid them in everyday productive tasks.
Instead of presenting a standardized image of a nuclear-
family, coresidential, gender-divided productive household,
this new model demonstrates a far more flexible arrange-
ment of domestic production and consumption that can play
out across various house structures. Likewise, the individ-
ual members of an independent household will shift over
time, according to the life cycles of families: a single-
structure house that once depended on its “parent” house
compound for daily needs may become independent when
it acquires enough members to become economically vi-
able. Hearths, on the other hand, are far more variable. Al-
though hearths, which provide warmth and can be used to
cook food or boil water, are essential to daily life, they
do not necessarily indicate an economically independent
household.
This model of the domestic economy, focused on the
houses and their components, may also prove useful as a
means of assessing the age of a site. Sites with longer
45
periods of occupation would demonstrate evidence of houses
in more advanced life stages, while those with shorter occu-
pations would have fewer “mature” houses. In our case study
of the Mantaro Valley, both periods, Wanka II and Wanka III,
were relatively brief (100 years and 83 years, respectively),
resulting in short occupations of the associated sites. An ex-
amination of the nine house compounds from Wanka II sites
demonstrates that only two have more than a single struc-
ture. This dearth of multistructure house compounds may
be attributed to the short occupation of the site: fewer gen-
erations of families resulted in houses that were generally
“young” (i.e., single structure). In Wanka III, however, de-
spite an equally brief occupation, we see a shift toward house
compounds with more, larger structures and correspond-
ingly more grinding stones. As others have suggested, this
may be attributed to greater demands for tribute during the
Inka Empire, when more space was needed for productive
tasks (DeMarrais 2001; Hastorf 1991); I would also suggest
that it became more efficient than in the previous period to
remain in multihouse households rather than to establish new
single-house households, which resulted in a larger number
of people living in a single house compound. This may be
attributed to tribute requirements under the Inka Empire that
quantified the “household” as the unit of taxation (D’Altroy
and Earle 1985; Hastorf 2001).
Although archaeologists have increasingly paid atten-
tion to domestic spaces, we need a more refined under-
standing of the essential elements that constitute a single
productive household. Depending on the productive needs
of a household, this will vary across time and space. Like-
wise, although it is useful to identify repeating activities and
tool kits as a way of highlighting discrete economic units,
it is also necessary to recognize where certain activities or
tools are missing, even though the others may be present.
As seen in grinding stones, these may not be present in ev-
ery house, which is significant in understanding how daily
tasks are divided and organized among households. The ab-
sence of grinding stones may highlight fundamental links of
economic activities between discrete architectural units that
would otherwise appear economically autonomous. Taking
into account both the presence and absence of domestic
tools is essential to interpret economic dynamics of the
house.
Conclusion
A gendered approach to the domestic economy liber-
ates it from previous assumptions and historical precedents
that emphasized the male sphere of agricultural production.
The traditional nongendered approach, ironically, had
46
ascribed gender to various tasks, effectively obscuring the
complexities of domestic roles and relationships. In con-
trast, the gendered approach of this chapter attempts to “de-
gender” the domestic economy, returning the focus of study
to the material evidence. By turning our analysis around and
centering on the house, instead of the model, and on the
lived realities of productive individuals, instead of stereo-
typed gender roles, we emerge with a distinct portrait of the
domestic economy and daily life in these ancient Andean
homes.
If we continue to define a household as the fundamental
economic unit, we need to identify the essential domestic
tools that households require. By emphasizing the mate-
rial necessities of production, we can evaluate the degree to
which individual economic units correlate with coresiden-
tial units. If tools do not always correspond to coresidential
units, this needs to be accounted for in our interpretation of
economic organization. Instead of embracing the domestic–
corporate dichotomy discussed earlier, we can employ the ar-
chaeological record to identify how activities pattern within
and between households.
The uneven distribution of grinding stones among struc-
tures may suggest an alternative to largely nucleated house-
hold economies described earlier. The Mantaro Valley house
studies demonstrate that small-scale household production
may represent a degree of corporate production beyond that
of a single coresidential unit. The absence of grinding stones
in small compounds and their presence in large ones may il-
lustrate a regular, daily pattern of supra-house production in
which multiple “nuclear” families share essential household
tools and labor. As seen elsewhere in the Andes (Goldstein
2007), archaeological evidence appears to point to a type
of economic production that falls somewhere between the
extremes of domestic and corporate units.
In the Andes, the absence of a grinding stone in a house
does not necessarily point to an absence of grinding as an
important daily task of this household. Instead, this absence
may be best explained by expanding our scope of analysis to
include several coresidential units. On a daily basis, related
people may be sharing basic production and consumption
activities, even though they do not inhabit the same struc-
ture. Archaeologists may be able to distinguish the age of a
household and its life-cycle stage at the time of site abandon-
ment by examining the types and quantities of productive
tools in its possession. Likewise, an analysis of multiple
households at a site may provide a general tool for assess-
ing the age of a site: many households in later life-cycle
stages (i.e., many structures and grinding stones and so forth)
would indicate a site that had been occupied much longer
(i.e., many more generations) than sites with mostly “young”
households.
Robin Coleman Goldstein
The variety of household tasks described in Guamán
Poma’s documents demonstrates that the domestic economy
was characterized by far more than that which was pro-
duced in the fields. For that reason, the traditional agrarian
domestic economy model cannot address the complexities
of ancient household production and consumption. A gen-
dered approach to the domestic economy has highlighted
the importance individuals and lived realities play in the
life cycles of houses and their economic production. The
importance of kinship in the Andes cannot be ignored; like-
wise, the ways in which these ties crosscut households and
communities have to be understood when approaching the
archaeological record. Ethnohistoric records are essential to
provide models of the past. However, archaeologists and his-
torians must be careful not to interpret the documents on the
basis of some aspects (e.g., nuclear families as the unit of
tribute assessment) at the expense of others (e.g., division
of labor on bases other than sex); likewise, a careful read-
ing is required to avoid confusing idealized presentations of
economic organization with the reality of daily life. In this
way, archaeology is unique in its capacity to provide accu-
rate representations of the repeated actions that occurred on
an everyday basis.
This analysis has grouped together Andean households
and domestic practices into a single entity. Although many
traditions are widely shared in the Andes, food produc-
tion and consumption practices can be highly localized and
distinguish groups of people from each other (Weismantel
1988). As more household studies are completed, we can
refine our understanding of domestic practices to be able
to identify variation based on ethnicity, class, or period.
Grinding stones, hearths, and food remains may not be the
only important correlates of basic economic behavior in the
Andes. Cooking and serving vessels may also pattern vari-
ably among households in ways that demonstrate specific
economic links. With these new data, we will be required
to reevaluate our current model of the domestic tool kit and
make refinements that will more accurately depict past prac-
tices. Moreover, by compiling specific indices of domestic
production and consumption, we may be able to identify
households in their different life stages, as well as important
economic links between households.
References
Aldenderfer, Mark S., and Charles Stanish
1993 Domestic Architecture, Household Archaeology,
and the Past in the South-Central Andes. In Domes-
tic Architecture, Ethnicity, and Complementarity
in the South-Central Andes. M. S. Aldenderfer,
ed. Pp. 1–12. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press.
Rethinking Domestic Economy in the Andes
Ashmore, Wendy, and Richard R. Wilk
1988 Household and Community in the Mesoameri-
can Past. In Household and Community in the
Mesoamerican Past. R. R. Wilk and W. Ashmore,
eds. Pp. 1–20. Albuquerque: University of New
Mexico Press.
Bawden, Garth
1982 Community Organization Reflected by the
Household: A Study of Pre-Columbian Social
Dynamics. Journal of Field Archaeology 9:
165–181.
1993 Archaeological Study of Social Structure and
Ethnic Replacement in Residential Architecture
of the Tumilaca Valley. In Domestic Architecture,
Ethnicity, and Complementarity in the South-
Central Andes. M. S. Aldenderfer, ed. Pp. 25–41.
Iowa City: University of Iowa Press.
Bollinger, Armin
1993 Ası́ se alimentaban los Inkas. La Paz, Bolivia:
Editorial “Los Amigos del Libro.”
Brumfiel, Elizabeth M.
1991 Weaving and Cooking: Women’s Production
in Aztec Mexico. In Engendering Archaeo-
logy: Women and Prehistory. J. M. Gero and
M. W. Conkey, eds. Pp. 224–251. Oxford:
Blackwell.
1992 Breaking and Entering the Ecosystem: Gender,
Class, and Faction Steal the Show. American
Anthropologist 94:551–567.
1996 Figurines and the Aztec State: Testing the Effec-
tiveness of Ideological Domination. In Gender
and Archaeology. R. P. Wright, ed. Pp. 143–166.
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Conkey, Margaret W., and Janet D. Spector
1984 Archaeology and the Study of Gender. In
Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory,
vol. 7. M. B. Schiffer, ed. Pp. 1–38. New York:
Academic.
D’Altroy, Terence N., and Timothy K. Earle
1985 Staple Finance, Wealth Finance, and Storage in
the Inka Political Economy. Current Anthropology
26(2):187–206.
D’Altroy, Terence N., and Christine A. Hastorf, eds.
2001 Empire and Domestic Economy. New York:
Kluwer Academic/Plenum.
47
DeMarrais, Elizabeth
2001 The Architecture and Organization of Xauxa
Settlements. In Empire and Domestic Economy.
T. N. D’Altroy and C. A. Hastorf, eds. Pp. 115–
153. New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum.
Earle, Timothy K.
1994 Wealth Finance in the Inka Empire: Evidence
from the Calchaqui Valley, Argentina. American
Antiquity 59(3):443–460.
Earle, Timothy K., Terence D’Altroy, Christine Hastorf,
Catherine Scott, Cathy Costin, Glen Russell, and
Elsie Sandefer
1987 Archaeological Field Research in the Upper
Mantaro, Peru, 1982–1983: Investigations of Inka
Expansion and Exchange. Monograph XXVIII.
Los Angeles: Institute of Archaeology, University
of California.
Gero, Joan M., and M. Cristina Scattolin
2002 Beyond Complementarity and Hierarchy: New
Definitions for Archaeological Gender Relations.
In In Pursuit of Gender: Worldwide Archaeolog-
ical Approaches. S. M. Nelson and M. Rosen-
Ayalon, eds. Pp. 155–171. Walnut Creek, CA:
AltaMira.
Goldstein, David J.
2007 Forests and Fires: A Paleoethnobotanical
Assessment of the Impact of Middle Sicán
Pyrotechnology on the Dry Tropical Forests of
the La Leche River Valley, Lambayeque, Peru
(950–1050 C.E.). Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation,
Department of Anthropology, Southern Illinois
University, Carbondale.
Goody, Jack
1982 Cooking, Cuisine, and Class. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Guamán Poma, Felipe
1956 [1613] Nueva crónica y bien gobierno. Inter-
preted by Teniente Coronel Luis Bustios Galvez.
Lima: Dirección de Culturua, Arqueologı́a e
Historia del Ministerio de Educación Pública del
Perú.
Hastorf, Christine A.
1991 Gender, Space, and Food in Prehistory. In En-
gendering Archaeology: Women and Prehistory.
48
J. M. Gero and M. W. Conkey, eds. Pp. 132–159.
Oxford: Blackwell.
2001 Agricultural Production and Consumption.
In Empire and Domestic Economy. T. N. D’Altroy
and C. A. Hastorf, eds. Pp. 155–178. New York:
Kluwer Academic/Plenum.
Hendon, Julia A.
1996 Archaeological Approaches to the Organiza-
tion of Domestic Labor: Household Practice
and Domestic Relations. Annual Review of
Anthropology 25:45–61.
Johnsson, Mick
1986 Food and Culture among Bolivian Aymara.
Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell International.
Kent, Susan
1987 Understanding the Use of Space: An Eth-
noarchaeological Approach. In Method and
Theory for Activity Research: An Ethnoarchaeo-
logical Approach. Pp. 1–62. New York: Columbia
University Press.
King, Julia
2006 Household Archaeology: Identities and Bi-
ographies. In The Cambridge Companion to
Historical Archaeology. D. Hicks and M. Beaudry,
eds. Pp. 293–313. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
Lambert, Bernd
1977 Bilaterality in the Andes. In Andean Kinship
and Marriage. R. Bolton and E. Mayer, eds. Pp. 1–
27. Washington, DC: American Anthropological
Association.
Mayer, Enrique
1977 Beyond the Nuclear Family. In Andean Kin-
ship and Marriage. R. Bolton and E. Mayer,
eds. Pp. 60–80. Washington, DC: American
Anthropological Association.
Nash, Donna J.
2002 The Archaeology of Space: Places of Power
in the Wari Empire. Unpublished Ph.D. disserta-
tion, Department of Anthropology, University of
Florida, Gainesville.
Owen, Bruce
1993 Model of Multiethnicity: State Collapse, Compe-
tition, and Social Complexity from Tiwanaku to
Robin Coleman Goldstein
Chiribaya in the Osmore Valley, Peru. Unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Anthropology,
University of California, Los Angeles.
Robin, Cynthia
2002 Outside of Houses: The Practices of Every-
day Life at Chan Nòohol, Belize. Journal of Social
Archaeology 2:245–268.
Russell, Glenn
1988 Impact of Inka Policy on the Domestic Economy
of the Wanka, Peru: Stone Tool Production and
Use. Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department
of Anthropology, University of California, Los
Angeles.
Sheets, Payson
1999 Provisioning the Ceren Household: The Ver-
tical Economy, Village Economy, and Household
Economy in the Southeastern Maya Periphery.
Ancient Mesoamerica 11:217–230.
Stanish, Charles
1989 Household Archaeology: Testing Models of
Zonal Complementarity in the South Central An-
des. American Anthropologist, n.s., 91(1):7–24.
1992 Ancient Andean Political Economy. Austin:
University of Texas Press.
Urton, Gary
1997 The Social Life of Numbers: A Quechua Ontology
of Numbers and Philosophy of Arithmetic. Austin:
University of Texas Press.
Van Buren, Mary
1996 Rethinking the Vertical Archipelago: Ethnic-
ity, Exchange, and History in the South Central
Andes. American Anthropologist 98(2):338–351.
Weismantel, Mary J.
1988 Food, Gender, and Poverty in the Ecuado-
rian Andes. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland
Press.
Wilk, Richard, and Wendy Ashmore
1988 Household and Community in the Mesoamerican
Past. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico
Press.
Wilk, Richard, and William Rathje
1982 Household Archaeology. American Behavioral
Scientist 25:617–639.