RICARDO IBARRA

El Tiempo

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Un artesano mexicano de un pequeño pueblo del oeste del país se ha ganado el mote de “diosero” por elaborar estatuillas de barro a las que algunos les atribuyen milagros, explicó hoy el propio artista en su taller de la comunidad San Juan Evangelista, en el estado de Jalisco.

“Tengo una esculturita que hice de San Juan Evangelista a la que le han atribuido milagros. Está muy pequeñita. Pero para mí eso depende de la fe y las creencias que tenga cada quien”, dijo a Efe Martín Ibarra Morales, de 43 años.

Entre las anécdotas de supuestos milagros Ibarra destacó el de una tía de su esposa, quien tenía a un hijo en grave estado de salud por unos tumores en la cabeza.

“En el hospital ella le prestó la pequeña estatuilla de San Juan Evangelista a su hijo y cuando él la vio, como le tiene mucha fe, dijo: ‘ahora sí sé que me voy a aliviar’, y ahí anda el señor vivo todavía”, señaló el artesano.

Esa historia corrió entre los habitantes del barrio Miravalle, en la ciudad de Guadalajara, la capital del estado de Jalisco, adonde la madre del paciente recuperado llevó la estatuilla elaborada por Ibarra.

En ese lugar los vecinos realizaron un novenario a la figura “y ya no la querían devolver, hasta que la pedí de regreso”, manifestó el escultor.

Otras de sus creaciones generan devoción entre los creyentes, como una “Virgen de Zapopan”, que realizó y regaló a un seminarista estadounidense, la cual “anda por Estados Unidos” y de vez en cuando “la sacan por los barrios”, aseguró.

Según el artesano, las autoridades del estado de Jalisco han obsequiando algunas de sus estatuillas a importantes personajes y figuras de la política internacional, entre ellas la Casa Real de España.

Martín Ibarra insistió en que no tiene ningún “poder” para hacer que sus piezas se conviertan en iconos de fe para algunas personas, aunque explicó que “vierte” una parte de su “ser” en cada estatua.

“Lo que yo hago no le veo el valor económico. Yo disfruto la escultura, la siento y le pongo algo de mí, porque también depende de tu estado de ánimo”, sostuvo.

“Si estoy alegre o si estoy feliz, transmito el sentimiento, y también cuando creo algo lo hago pensando en que sea para bien”, apuntó.

Su taller es un pequeño espacio edificado con barro como sus esculturas ubicado justo frente la iglesia de San Juan Evangelista, el cual se encuentra en la llamada “Ruta Franciscana”, una serie de municipios por los que anduvieron los evangelizadores en México durante los siglos XVI y XVII.

La iglesia tiene motivos prehispánicos, debido a que en su construcción participaron indígenas mexicanos, y en su interior se puede apreciar el sincretismo entre las creencias que profesaban los franciscanos y los cultos religiosos de los nativos, como un rostro del dios azteca Tláloc en la fachada del templo católico.

Ibarra aprendió el arte de hacer figuras religiosas de su padre, quien empezó a elaborarlas de barro después de descubrir una tumba que albergaba distintas ofrendas en cerámica.

Ahora que otros comienzan a imitar su obra, el artista piensa continuar innovando sus obras por medio de la simbiosis del estilo prehispánico y su propia manera de crear y divertirse.

I was questioning my sanity as I drove through a Nor’easter towards Baltimore last Thursday. “DeShae had better appreciate this!” I grumbled to myself. I knew she did. I just wasn’t having any fun at that moment. She was on a plane from Oklahoma heading towards Baltimore. The storm system was moving slowly, so she might be just enough ahead of it not to even notice it. Or not. Besides she was surrounded by the IWP. I was not worried about either of us.

We both arrived without incident. We had a delicious meal at the hotel since neither of us was willing to venture out again in the rain. The Nor`easter had arrived and it was pretty nasty out. We knew this because she had to go outside to smoke and I had to take Sally out to potty. Tamu had his private latrine inside. God bless Holiday Inn for being pet friendly.

The next morning DeShae had an appointment with Caroline Kenner. It was interesting the way it had fallen into place a month ago when we began planning this. The flights were reasonable in cost and timed perfectly for DeShae, the hotel was convenient and we found out that Caroline works best of Fridays and that the 13^th is especially powerful for her. I had been asking the Po`e Aumakua for their blessings and help. They heard and they agreed, because it turned out to be an incredibly powerful time for both of us!

Hopefully, DeShae will write an article for the blog about her experience??

The drive back on Saturday was uneventful for me. The storm had pretty much begun to break up and besides, I have connections!! I LOVE the Rain God, Tlaloc. He has never let me down yet! Just so you know, Tlaloc loves chocolate, especially chocolate candles. Even the drive from Baltimore to Silver Spring was only a light mist, not the heavy downpour of the night before.

I ‘met’ The Rain God while reading a wonderful book about 10 years ago called Sastun. He was only mentioned in a sentence or two, but there was a strong connection. The little old man had said simply, “the rain god loves chocolate.” I bought a couple of Hershey bars and had no clue what to do with them. But, as with everything spiritual, it is intention that counts the most. At the time I was living in New Mexico and had three large dogs that had to be walked on a leash. It was pouring rain. I announced out loud to this Rain God that I needed to take my dogs out and would appreciate it if the rain could stop. Within 10 minutes the rain stopped. I grabbed my raincoat and leashes and out we went. As soon as we came back in, the rain started up again. It was as if it had been turned off and on like a faucet (it had). So, from that moment on I have a great love, admiration and respect for the Rain God. I only recently found out his name is Tlaloc and he has a great sense of humor!!

On another note, my friend Audrey broke her ankle a few weeks ago. She finally gave me permission to work on her and I immediately began working on her. (note: we will not pray for anyone or do any type of healing without explicit permission from the recipient. Please feel free to send requests for help to the Fellowship!)

After I had been working on her for a few days, she emailed that she had lost her fear of fragility and her energy had returned.

The next note received from her was this morning. She said that she kept waking up every 3 to 4 hours and wanted to get up and dance a jig. Could I please ask them to send the energy during the day so she could get some sleep at night? Adjustment to the `ano`ano was made and she now sleeps very well

I just LOVE the Po`e Aumakua!!!

Luego de la decadencia de la ciudad-estado de Teotihuacán, la cual quizá se debió a invasiones de pueblos hostiles o a gravísimas crisis alimentarias, varias poblaciones se disputaron el poder económico y cultural de Mesoamérica. Los Toltecas y otros grupos de colonizadores, llamados Nonoalcos, se establecieron en una zona situada a aproximadamente 65 kilómetros al norte de Teotihuacán, donde se fundó posteriormente la ciudad de Tollan Xicocotitlán (Tula o ciudad cerca del cerro Xicoco). La región ya estaba habitada por algunos grupos de Otomíes, que aún hoy son un consistente grupo indígena mexicano. Los primeros eruditos españoles, entre los cuales Bernardino de Sahagún, tuvieron conocimiento de la antigua civilización de los Toltecas por medio de los Aztecas, quienes les dijeron que ésta era mítica y que estaba ubicada en un valle paradisíaco, donde había abundancia de cosecha y donde las personas se alimentaban de aves tropicales multicolores. A continuación, un pasaje del libro Historia General de las Cosas de la Nueva España, llamado luego Código Florentino (1577) del fray Bernardino de Sahagún: Dicen que su Dios era Quetzalcóatl (serpiente con plumas de Quetzal), que era riquísimo y que tenía todas las cosas que se pudieran desear en este mundo. Dicen que las mazorcas de maíz eran enormes y abundantes, y que se cultivaban grandes calabazas, patatas y tomates. Además, dicen que había abundancia de algodón, con el que se elaboraban espléndidos tejidos. Los Toltecas adoraban al Dios Quetzalcóatl, la serpiente emplumada, símbolo, por tanto, del inframundo (muerte y pasado) y del cielo (renacimiento, cercanía al Sol, luminosidad, futuro), que representa, de este modo, la continuidad de la vida en la Tierra y en el Cosmos. Según los Aztecas, en la cima de la teocracia tolteca estaba el sumo sacerdote, quien encerraba en sí todo el conocimiento humano y quien tenía poderes sobrenaturales. El personaje histórico más famoso de la civilización tolteca fue Ce Acatl Topiltzin, quien nació probablemente en el 947 d.C., en un pueblo llamado Michatlahco, en el actual estado mexicano de Morelos. Fue el rey más importante de los Toltecas, a partir del 977 d.C. Hay algunas leyendas que afirman que Topiltzin era “diferente”, en el sentido que venía de muy lejos. A menudo se dice que era un náufrago vikingo. Después de haber sido coronado rey, fue tentado por el Dios de la guerra Tezcatlipoca, motivo por el cual fue expulsado de la ciudad. Luego de los últimos estudios arqueológicos en el sitio de Tula, ubicado en el actual estado mexicano de Hidalgo, se llegó a la conclusión de que la sociedad tolteca era dominada por una aristocracia guerrera que efectuó una expansión de tipo militar y cultural hasta Yucatán, alrededor del 1000 d.C. Haciendo una comparación con Suramérica, la expansión cultural tolteca parece asemejarse a la efectuada por el pueblo Wari, que influenció, con su cultura, a muchísimas etnias del Perú meridional y central pre-incaico. Hacia el 1200 de nuestra era, algunas belicosas tribus de Mexicas (que sucesivamente dieron origen a los Aztecas) y Chichimecas invadieron el territorio de los Toltecas, haciendo que esta civilización comenzara a declinar. En efecto, el estudio estratigráfico del sitio arqueológico de Tula confirma una secuencia cronológica que va del 750 d.C. hasta el 1200 d.C. Se piensa que Tula tenía una extensión de 11 kilómetros cuadrados y una población de aproximadamente 30.000 personas. En la actualidad, en Tula, se pueden admirar las enormes estatuas de los Atlantes, de 4,6 metros de altura. Son representaciones de guerreros toltecas. Parece que su construcción estuvo relacionada con el culto del planeta Venus y con la creación de un calendario sagrado de 260 días (el tiempo de la revolución de Venus alrededor del Sol). En cuanto a lo económico, la zona donde surgió la ciudad de Tollan-Xicocotitlan (no confundir con el lugar mitológico llamado Tollan), era rica en obsidiana, piedras semipreciosas como la turquesa, el alabastro y otros minerales con los cuales se elaboraban estatuillas, adoradas como tótem. En el valle había, además, abundancia de cacao, patatas, tomate, calabazas y maíz. Esta ventajosa situación económica permitió a la aristocracia dominante expandirse militarmente por el actual México y tener relaciones comerciales con los Mayas y con otros pueblos de Centroamérica, como por ejemplo Nicoya, en la actual Costa Rica, de donde importaban preciosas cerámicas. En la arquitectura Tolteca se encuentran algunas similitudes con la cultura Maya: la pirámide de Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli en Tula se parece mucho al templo de los guerreros de Chichén Itzá, en Yucatán. Las afinidades entre los dos pueblos se perciben también en la mitología y en el chamanismo esotérico. En lo alto de estas creencias religiosas toltecas estaba Tloque Nahuaque, el Creador Supremo o Absoluto. Estaba después una Divinidad creadora de los cielos y de la Tierra, Ometecuhtli. Luego, se adoraba a varios Dioses, a los cuales se ofrecía sacrificios para obtener mejores cosechas o para ahuyentar a las fuerzas del mal. Uno de los más importantes era, como ya se había mencionado, Quetzalcóatl, la serpiente emplumada. No sólo era el símbolo del inframundo y del cielo al mismo tiempo (el diablo y el Omnipotente en la simbología católica), sino que representaba también la cultura, la filosofía y la fertilidad. Según la leyenda, Quetzalcóatl era el rey de la legendaria Tollan en épocas arcaicas. Otro de los Dioses mitológicos toltecas era el ya mencionado Tezcatlipoca, el Dios de la guerra (Marte en la cultura de los Griegos). Luego estaba Tlaloc, Dios de la lluvia, Centeotl, Dios del maíz, Itzlacoliuhque (a veces identificado como un simple aspecto de Quetzalcóatl), considerado como Dios de la oscuridad y de los eventos violentos como terremotos, inundaciones y tempestades. A partir de las crónicas escritas por los primeros eruditos españoles que llegaron a México en el siglo XVI, se deduce que los Toltecas daban una enorme importancia a la figura del chamán, hombre capaz de comunicarse con los espíritus, con el fin de resolver disputas, curar enfermedades y en últimas, relacionar a las personas con la Divinidad. Hay que señalar que la palabra “chamán” deriva del sánscrito “shramana”, y no de las lenguas americanas. El chamanismo que aún hoy se practica en muchísimos grupos indígenas de Suramérica es un tipo de religión esotérica reservada, por tanto, a pocos. En efecto, sólo el chamán tiene acceso al conocimiento y puede comunicarse con los espíritus, sean ellos benignos o malignos. Además, practica sacrificios para complacer a los Dioses, conserva las tradiciones orales de su pueblo y sirve de guía espiritual. Según las tradiciones chamánicas toltecas, las cuales heredó luego el pueblo de los Mexica o Aztecas, cada individuo al nacer es acompañado por un animal que lo protegerá y lo guiará durante toda su vida. Estos espíritus se llamaban nahuales. Algunos animales, como por ejemplo el pato y algunas enormes plantas como los árboles de bosque, eran considerados sagrados en la cultura Tolteca. El pato es capaz de caminar, nadar, sumergirse y volar. Por consiguiente, es el símbolo de la perfección en el mundo animal. El árbol de bosque representa los tres mundos posibles: el inframundo, con las raíces bien aferradas a la Tierra y a su materialidad, el tronco, que simboliza la superficie terrestre o el mundo del medio, habitado por los humanos y que está entre la materialidad y la espiritualidad, y la copa, símbolo de la cercanía a Dios, al cielo, a la luminosidad y al reino de la espiritualidad. Los chamanes toltecas eran capaces de comunicarse con los espíritus luego de alcanzar un estado de trance (o alteración de la consciencia), que producían tanto con métodos de autohipnosis, como a través de la música, el canto y el baile, pero también ingiriendo sustancias alucinógenas, como por ejemplo el peyote (Lophophora williamsii). Hoy en día, en México, hay algunas comunidades de Neo-Toltecas que siguen la filosofía de vida de sus ancestros y que creen que los antiguos Mesoamericanos eran portadores de una única cultura llamada Toltecayotl. La filosofía de los Neo-Toltecas está basada en la convicción de que es posible tener un estilo de vida que respete a la naturaleza y a los otros seres vivientes, de manera que se pueda lograr la armonía que se perdió en los siglos pasados.

YURI LEVERATTO    www.yurileveratto.com

Estoy en San Bartolomé de las Casas, estado de Chiapas. Esta tarde me voy a Mérida, estado de Yucatán.
Chiapas está cerca de la selva. Prácticamente es selva. Es selva tropical. Hay una zona de la selva que se llama Lacandona. No he ido allí. Me falta tiempo.
Hace dos días visité Palenque. Está en la selva. Es una ciudad maya. Allí hay un cementerio donde están enterrados reyes y figuras nobles mayas. En Palenque vivían nobles, artistas y sacerdotes, entre otro tipo de clases sociales.
Los mayas tenían más de ciento sesenta deidades. El dios de la lluvia se llama Tláloc. Así lo llaman en el centro de México. En Chiapas lo llaman de otra manera.
Muchas de las representaciones que hay en Palenque son de la cesión de poder de una mujer a Pakal, que gobernó Palenque durante una época. Palenque fue un matriarcado. Hay zonas de México que fueron matriarcado y otras patriarcado. En la representación de Palenque, una mujer le da copal a Pakal. El copal es una vasija pequeña de piedra que contiene incienso. De esta manera le cedió el poder.
Otra de las representaciones de Palenque retrata a Pakal sentado en un jaguar de dos cabezas. Debajo suyo tiene los nueve niveles del inframundo. Simboliza la madre tierra devorando a Pakal.
Los mayas tenían muchos conocimientos de matemáticas y astrología. Y también de medicina con plantas y minerales. En el museo de la medicina maya de Chiapas existen distintas variedades de plantas para uso medicinal. También utilizaban animales.
Los medicamentos de la indutria farmaceútica están elaborados con estas plantas y han sido patentados por diferentes marcas; acción que perjudica a los más pobres.
La utilización de estas plantas, animales, minerales iba acompañada de un acto de fe con la madre tierra y el cosmos. Los mayas utilizaban velas, copal (incienso), gallinas negras y algún tipo de refresco para ofrecérselo a los dioses y para proteger a los enfermos de las acciones negativas externas. Las flores también se utilizaban.
Los indígenas de México mantienen sus propias creencias y rezan a sus dioses. Aunque para ello utilizen el crucifijo de la religión católica. Para ellos el crucifijo simboliza los cuatro elementos de la naturaleza: agua, tierra, aire y fuego. Todo forma parte del todo y se manifiesta a través de las distintas formas que en el planeta habitan.

La Casa Que Rueda te abre sus puertas en la calle de  Tlaloc, número 89. Para que te guies mejor mirate el mapa que tenemos para ti en google.

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“The blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold,
and it’s overturned the order of the soul”

“And even though it all went wrong,
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song. . .”

When we got off the Frontier Airlines flight at the Denver International Airport on that rainy Tuesday, Tlaloc was roaring.  The sky looked like a giant gray sandbag.  The wind blew wet and cold.  We stood at the Advantage Car Rental pick up area for what must have been a half hour.  We joked as the Advantage sign hung over our heads:

“What are we doing here?”

We’re waiting for Godot!”

A fellow customer smiled, “So this is why they are a third the price of the competition!”

The Advantage van finally rescued us.   I had pulled out my jacket that I normally use on mild winter days.  Doug had put on his “Famous Blue Raincoat.”  Our umbrellas were open.  We knew the weather would be bad, but the tickets read “rain or shine.”  We knew it would rain,  and we were prepared to sit though the cold and the wet.

When we arrived at the Advantage counter, we found ourselves among several Cohen fans, all who had come from out of town, all having flown in to see the concert.  They had come from Little Rock, New York, Miami, Dallas.  An animated Scottish man claimed to have met “Lenny” in New York through someone who knows his sister.

I asked him, the Scot recounted,  Lenny, are you ever going to do another tour?  His eyes lit up like diamonds, and he said ‘I would love that!’  And he was–you know–just a regular guy, a guy like us. . .  He put me totally at ease. . .

In the parking lot, we talked to our Scottish friend, who had seen Cohen perform recently at some of his other shows.  Tlaloc continued his relentless tantrum of wind and water, and it didn’t bother us.  They sky looked like it was going to come down.  We commented on the violent weather, not on the unmentionable possibility.  I maybe thought it once or twice, but quickly dismissed it.

Rain or Shine, the tickets read.  Rain or Shine.

His voices sounded so good, and the band, the band is amazing.  So tight.  The best band I’ve ever heard.  There’s this guy from Barcelona, Javier Mas, who plays these stringed instruments that nobody’s seen before–and those background singers, that woman who collaborates with him, what’s her name. . . Sharon Robinson, and the Webb Sisters!  Incredible!  Incredible!

Rain kept on falling, and our friend kept on raving.

. . .and they played for over three hours, and did–like–five encores.  Incredible!  You guys will be amazed. . .

Doug’s trusty GPS led us to the Holiday Inn, in Golden.  I kept sticking my hand out the window to see if the rain had stopped.  Rain or Shine.  Tlaloc fought on.

***

A pretty young blonde whose bangs were dyed dark was working the check-in counter:

Are you gentlemen here for business or pleasure?. . . Oh, oh, I’m sorry!  You see all those people there in the lobby?  Oh my God, I’m so sorry!  It’s been canceled!  They’re postponing it until Thursday. . .

I think we both went numb.  The lobby was full of pilgrims like us.  Travelers from afar: L.A.; Miami; Spokane; Perth, Australia; Iraq.  Somebody came from Iraq to see Leonard Cohen at Red Rocks!

We did the math, talked to our families, tried to contact our bosses.  If it would have been one night. . .but two?  Two more nights in the hotel.  To more days with the car.  Meals.  Missed days from work.  A new return ticket.

To stay would not be feasable.  The trip was already a financial sacrifice for both of us.  Thursday I had graduation rehearsal for the high school where I taught.  And was there any guarantee that the concert would go on Thursday?

“Your students need you to be there,” my mother said, when I called to ask if she would be willing to watch my children for a couple more days while my wife attended her evening college courses.

***

“I can’t stay.  You stay if you want.  I won’t mind,” I told Doug.

“Alright, that’s all I need to hear,” he said.  “We’ll go home tomorrow.  It’s just a rock show.”  But is was much more than that, and we both knew it.

Neither one of us had eaten since early morning, and despite our profound disappointment, we were both hungry.  We got in the small Toyota that we had rented, and we drove out of town, to see where it would take us.  We swerved up a mountain road, and unknowingly, flew past the Red Rocks entrance, and went into the town of Morrison.  We saw a small restaurants, and opted for Mexican, comfort food familiar to us westerners.  I don’t remember the name of the restaurant (my web queries lead me to believe that it was The Morrison Inn.)  The food turned out be average, but they serve margaritas and 34-ounce mugs of locally microbrewed beer, and have an Addams Family pinball machine and an Air Hockey Table.  Enough said.  We also became the bearers of bad news to several other hapless concert-goers, several fellow pilgrims.

From there we went to the mall, hit a couple more bars, and eventually retired to our room at the Holiday Inn.  The occasion was not, overall,  morose.  We told jokes, quoted lines from favorite movies, and reminisced about people and experiences from our mostly innocent youth.  Occasionally, between the laughter, quips and one-liners, we would remember why we had come, and we would go silent, holding in our disappointment, wanting to rage like Tlaloc.

At about 3 a.m., the power at our hotel went out.  It didn’t matter much, not to us–not even reason for complaint after what we had been through.   We rose early, packed up, ate breakfast and headed to the airport, with the same mostly jovial spirit in which we had spent the evening.  At worst the trip had turned out to provided an extended period for two old friends and fellow travellers, long separated by time and circumstance, to reaquaint.  That is not a bad thing.

***

Back in Utah, two weeks have passed, and Tlaloc has been active every day since we returned home.  Unusual weather for Salt Lake City.  Doug had to return to Denver on Friday, the day after the rescheduled concert, to attend his step son’s lacrosse tournament, a trip that would last until the following Monday.  His son did well in the tournament, but he ended up spending part of Monday in a tornado shelter.

Thursday night, however,–the night of the rescheduled concert–the weather was “cheery”, though.  No rain.  Tlaloc was appeased by the Cohen’s poetry and deep, deep voice.  He was appeased by the angelic choruses of the “sublime Webb Sisters” and Sharon Robinson, by the transcendent arpeggios of Javier Mas and his arsenal of double-stringed instruments.  The Denver Post gave a rave review.

I remain heartbroken.  I will never regret the trip, never regret spending time with a good friend, and never regret almost being able to see Leonard Cohen in concert.  But there will always be something tugging quietly at my soul.

His North American tour has ended, and he and his band will get a much-needed break before they head to Europe and Israel.  Rumors fly on the web about another North American leg.  Someone on the Leonard Cohen forum even mentions a rumor of plans to play in Salt Lake.   I don’t take these seriously at all, but what if they are true?  Cohen does seem like he has gotten his second wind.  He and his band play generously and enthusiastically in the Live in London video, and reviews of his tour have been stellar.

Odds are, though, we will never see another extensive tour from Leonard Cohen.  Whatever happens, we have his recordings, and for most of us, that will have to do.

]]> http://thelobbyconspiracy.wordpress.com/2009/06/11/si-lo-ven-diganle-que-se-ponga-a-chambear/ Thu, 11 Jun 2009 16:38:01 +0000 thelobbyconspiracy http://thelobbyconspiracy.wordpress.com/2009/06/11/si-lo-ven-diganle-que-se-ponga-a-chambear/

Este joven de la foto no ha hecho su chamba y por ello esta “más dura la calor” y lo más importante… No hay agua!! nos vamos a quedar sin agua si no tenemos una temporada de lluvias como es costumbre.  Aquellos que sufren de cortes de agua saben lo importante de la labor de Tlaloc. En estas campañas no he escuchado propuestas ( que es mucho pedir que piensen? ) sobre el agua.

Si no hacemos algo nos vamos a meter todavia más en un problemon. Nos vamos a volver como europeos, el baño sera ahi de vez en cuando haya agua!

Guac!

“You who build these altars now
to sacrifice these children
you must not do it anymore.”

The Rain God is out today.  He is not angry, but he’s sobbing lightly.  He has several names, but I usually call him Tlaloc.  That’s what the Aztecs called their child-god.  To make him cry, they would sacrifice their children to him, like Abraham almost did.  You can read about that in the Old Testament, if you don’t know the story.  A week ago, Tlaloc was in Colorado doing more than sobbing.  He was raging.  Why?  I don’t know.  He was there when our plan touched down in the Mile High City.  The sky was cold and heavy; it looked like a giant leaden pillow.

***

After being reunited on Facebook–a technology that now seems light-years ahead of the Atari 800–we began meeting regularly for lunch.  We discussed our parallel histories over pitas and peppered hummus at Cafe Med, or breakfast at the Original Pancake House, or gourmet pizza at Este.  We talked about politics and jazz, family and food, Darwin and Dylan.  I had returned to school and earned my BA in English, and–later–my teaching certificate.  He had also resumed his education and was working as a lab coordinator at the community college.  It seems like at most of our meetings, Cohen’s name would come up.

***

The rain is now rattling against the window, shaking the leaves.  The wind is blowing.  Baby Tlaloc is pissed off!

***

In my AP English Lit class, I brought in some Cohen: “Suzanne” and “Famous Blue Raincoat.”   The first song, a moody triptych about a nebulous relationship with a mystical woman (and the plight of a lonely, failed messiah).  The second, about an ambivilant triangulated love affair between a man (“Sincerely, L. Cohen”), his woman (“Jane”), and his close friend (“my brother, my killer”).  One student who loved the lyrics to “Suzanne,” hated it after she heard Cohen sing it.  “Famous Blue Raincoat” was somewhat of a hit;  high school students usually understand that kind of thing.

***

In early 2009, NPR broadcast a Cohen concert over the Internet, “Live at the Beacon Theater,” from New York City.  This was his first concert in the states in a decade and a half.  I connected my wireless laptop to my Sony bookshelf stereo, and listened intently.  I was so excited that I did not read all of the text accompanying the webcast.  I didn’t see the part about “. . .coming to a town near you.”  Cohen had already done several shows in Europe, and was embarking on a major North American Tour, playing everywhere from Atlanta and Dallas to Saskatoon and Winnipeg.  We figured he would hit Vegas, but it didn’t happen, but his last stop would be at Red Rocks, in Morrison, Colorado.

“I’ve always wanted to see a show at Red Rocks,” Doug said.

As a teacher, housing and feeding a family on a teacher’s salary, traveling for music is not something you think about, what with the expenses: airfare, hotel, car rental, restaurants.  But this, this was probably it.  My one and only opportunity to see Cohen, who, at 75, would probably never do another major U.S. tour.

We made arrangements with our workplaces, bought airfare, got a hotel room at a Holiday Inn within a stone’s throw of the venue.  I couldn’t believe it was happening.  It seemed like a dream, too good to be true.  It was.

Tlaloc had other plans.

Not much can be said about rain, except that it is always wet, and often cold. If you go to the park, and take along a sandwich, I think it best to find some shelter before you unwrap it. Few things are more unpleasant than the texture of soggy bread. It disgusts me.

When I was young, I remember my grandfather eating bowls of bread and milk, and even at the age of three, it made my stomach turn. When my children throw a piece of bread in a sink full of wet, dirty dishes, I get disgusted–even more than when they use the toilet and forget to flush. This, because I don’t have to actually touch the contents of the toilet.

Some people, I’m sure, aren’t bothered by wet bread, and would argue, that I’m complaining about nothing. When taking the long view, they are most certainly right.

The Aztecs, for example, would perform human sacrifices to keep the universe running. They would cut open the chests of their victims, and pull out their beating hearts as an offering to the Gods. They would also flay their skin, and make a kind of body suit out of it, and wear it. They would also stew their flesh and eat it as a kind of sacrament. That is all disgusting.

But when you consider that it’s necessary to keep the mechanics of the universe in motion, I suppose it’s a small price to pay.

To make it rain, they would sacrifice their children to the rain god, Tlaloc, who they believe would shed tears at such a sight. Was he crying tears of sadness in seeing the dying infants, or tears of joy–that they Aztecs would be willing to kill their prized possessions–their own children–just for him?

It’s April 14th, and I hear people complaining about the wet, cold, beautiful rain. What would they be willing to do to make it stop?

Storm bringer regn. Regn er kilden til liv, regn fører til rikelig vekst og overflod.

Regnstorm har en feminin energi som har med seg en lun og myk trygghet, slik som man kan oppleve når stormen raser ute og man sitter lunt og trygt innendørs. Storm renser ut gammel stagnert energi og gir også kreativitet og en følelse av frihet.

Tallet 8 som representerer den 8. tonen i Mayaenes Hellige Kalender, kalles Uaxac. Tonen representerer rettferdighet, harmoni og balanse. Tlaloc, regn- og krigsguden, hersker over tonen 8.

Regndans: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOykUCGrXLI

Bente B

Up today is another video about the Mexican Tigre combat phenomenon I discussed  a few weeks ago.  This one shows a style of fighting practiced in Acatlan.  Instead of rope whip-clubs as in Zitlala, these competitors duel with their fists.

Courtesy link to ArchaeologyTV’s page on YouTube for this Tigre combat video.

A particularly interesting feature of this video is the variety of masks.  Not only do you see the jaguar-style masks, but you’ll also see masks with goggle eyes.  Goggle eyes are, of course, one of the signature visual characteristics of Tlaloc, the very Teotl this pre-Columbian tradition was originally dedicated to.  (And still is in many places, beneath the surface layer of Christian symbols.)  If you look closely, you might notice that some of the goggle eyes are mirrored.  The researchers behind ArchaeologyTV interviewed one of the combatants, who said that the significance of the mirrors is that you see your own face in the eyes of your opponent, linking the two fighters as they duel.

This idea of a solemn connection between two parties in sacrificial bloodshed was of major importance in many  of the pre-Conquest religious practices of the Aztecs.  It can be seen most clearly in the gladiatorial sacrifice for Xipe Totec during Tlacaxipehualiztli.  During this festival, the victorious warrior would refer to the man he captured in battle as his beloved son, and the captive would refer to the victor as his beloved father.  The victim would be leashed to a round stone that formed something of an arena, and given a maquahuitl that had the blades replaced with feathers, while his four opponents were fully-armed.  As the captor watched the courageous victim fight to the death in a battle he couldn’t win, he knew that next time, he might be the one giving his life on the stone to sustain the cosmos.

Following up on last week’s post discussing the survival of Precolumbian gladiatorial combat in honor of Tlaloc in Mexico, I’ve got a video today that actually shows part of a Tigre whip match at Zitlala.  Now that this activity has come to my attention, it’s something I’ll be watching for videos of in addition to Danza Azteca.  It’s interesting getting to actually see the story behind the jaguar mask and contemplate the deeper meaning behind the fighting.

Courtesy link to ArchaeologyTV’s page on YouTube for this Tigre combat video.

In case you’re wondering, the special rope club used by Tigre fighters in Zitlala are called cuertas.  The modern cuerta itself is actually a “friendlier” version of heavier rawhide and stone clubs used previously, which in turn were descended from stone and shell clubs used when the battles may well have been lethal.  For obvious reasons, the present-day trend has been away from fatal contests, though the underlying meaning of giving of oneself to Tlaloc for a plentiful harvest endures today among those who remember.

Came across an interesting photograph recently that’s quite interesting, as it shows an aspect of a Pre-Columbian ceremony still surviving today in Zitlala, Mexico.

Tigre Fighter With Whip & Jaguar Mask. Copyright 2008 by the Associated Press/Eduardo Verdugo. Used without permission.

Link to original photograph source.

Original Caption:

“A man dressed as a tiger carries a small whip made from rope in Zitlala, Guerrero state, Mexico, Monday, May 5, 2008. Every year, inhabitants of this town participate in a violent ceremony to ask for a good harvest and plenty of rain, at the end of the ceremony men battle each other with their whips while wearing tiger masks and costumess. (AP Photo/Eduardo Verdugo)” [Cehualli's note -- "tiger" is a common mistranslation of "tigre," when the context makes it apparent a jaguar or other large cat is meant.]

Now…there’s a lot more going on here that the photographer doesn’t get into in his note.  Specifically, that this is a modern survival of traditional indigenous religious practices.

Why do I think this?  Let me explain.

There’s a certain ancient god of rain in Mesoamerica who has traditionally been associated with jaguars… and that’s Tlaloc.  In the codices, if you look carefully you can see that He’s always depicted with long, fearsome jaguar fangs.  The growl of the jaguar resembles the rolling of distant thunder, and the dangerous power of such an apex predator fits the moody, explosive-tempered Storm Lord quite nicely.  The jaguar as a symbol of Tlaloc is a very ancient tradition that appears across the whole of Central America, whether the god is being called Tlaloc, Cucijo, Dzahui, or Chaac.

The whip-club is another hint.  Flogging has been done as part of rain ceremonies for Tlaloc for centuries (I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s symbolic of lightning).  Additionally, though the photographer didn’t mention this, one knows what happens when people strike each other hard with whips like the one the man in the photo is shown carrying — you bleed.  A lot.

In Prehispanic Mexico, one of the important rituals for Xipe Totec, the Flayed Lord, god of spring and new growth, is called “striping.”  Striping involved shooting the sacrificial victim with arrows for the purpose of causing his blood to drip and splash on the dry earth below, symbolizing rain that would bring a good harvest.  Similar rituals specifically devoted to Tlaloc were also done, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the gladiatorial combat done for Xipe Totec had the same basic idea in mind, sprinkling blood over the ground done to call the rain.

The next part is due to my good friend Shock and her impressive knack for research.  While we were discussing this photo, Shock directed me to an excellent article about this phenomenon known as “Tigre Boxing” that still exists all throughout Mexico today.  It even discusses this specific form of battling with whips in Zitlala that this photograph is of.  I highly recommend checking it out, as it’s loaded with more information about the surviving practice of gladiatorial combat for rain, complete with many excellent photos of the jaguar masks, sculptures, and even videos of the combat!

Click HERE to go to the Tigre Boxing article.

]]> http://tlacochcalli.wordpress.com/2008/11/10/a-penitential-rite-of-the-ancient-mexicans/ Mon, 10 Nov 2008 06:17:19 +0000 cehualli http://tlacochcalli.wordpress.com/2008/11/10/a-penitential-rite-of-the-ancient-mexicans/

I have discovered online a very interesting classic journal article about Aztec autosacrifice by the esteemed Dr. Zelia Nuttall. Written in 1904, it lacks the benefits of recent scholarship, but it still remains a keystone work in understanding the specific form of autosacrifice that is bloodletting from the ears. Dr. Nuttall provides detailed description and discussion of the various specific forms of ear sacrifice, accompanied by extensive translation from numerous codices and photographs of pictorial depictions of this type of penance. If you are interested in learning more about how the Aztecs traditionally performed ear sacrifice, I strongly recommend following the link to read the article. Even better, as it is in the public domain, the full text is available to download as a PDF through Google Books!

Click here to go read “A Penitential Rite of the Ancient Mexicans” by Dr. Zelia Nuttall!

Some highlights of this article are discussions of the close association of ear autosacrifice with the gods Tezcatlipoca, Mixcoatl, Huitzilopochtli, and Quetzalcoatl. Of particular interest during this veintana of Quecholli is the description of a special type of autosacrifice attributed to Mixcoatl, the God of the Hunt. The article includes several forms of ear sacrifice linked to specific veintanas, including Quecholli and Panquetzaliztli. Additionally, it describes a sacrifice offered on the day Nahui Ollin, the daysign of the current Sun, the Sun Four Movement.

Also interesting is Dr. Nuttall’s analysis of the jaguar/ocelot imagery surrounding Tezcatlipoca and his connection to the constellation Citlal-Xonecuilli, which is known today as either Ursa Major or Minor (a little help on which one, Shock?).  [Edit -- It's Ursa Major.  Thanks, Shock!]  Instead of a bear, the Aztecs saw the constellation as a jaguar and a symbol of Tezcatlipoca. It reminded them of the time when Tezcatlipoca, acting as the First Sun, was chased from the sky by Quetzalcoatl and descended to Earth in the form of a great jaguar to devour the giants, the first people. That is why the constellation seems to swoop from its peak in the sky down to the horizon, reenacting this myth every day in the night sky.

My only irritation with this article is a few points where the good doctor strays from proper anthropological neutrality to make disparaging comments about the practice of autosacrifice, and to congratulate the Spaniards on stamping it out. I’ll admit it, I do derive a certain sly pleasure in using this article to help modern Aztec Reconstructionist pagans in reviving this religious practice!

Jaguar Vessel

I came across an interesting article by Alan R. Sandstrom on FAMSI the other night. It is a summary of his observation of a modern Huaxtec ceremony honoring one of the Tlaloque, a rain spirit named Apanchanej (literally, “Water Dweller”). This festival took place in 2001 on Postectli, a mountain in the Huasteca region of Mexico.

A bit of background — the Huaxtecs are an ancient people, neighbors of the Aztecs. Like the Aztecs, they spoke and still speak Nahuatl, making them one of the numerous Nahua peoples. To this day they still live in their traditional home, one of the more rugged and mountainous sections of Mexico. They have retained more of their indigenous culture than some of the other tribes that survived the Conquest due to their remoteness and the rough terrain that inhibited colonization. This includes many pre-Conquest religious traditions, even some sacrificial practices.

To read the short article summarizing Sandstrom’s experiences at the ceremony:

If you would like to read the article in English, please go HERE.

Si desea leer el artículo en español, por favor haga clic AQUI.

Some Highlights Related To Modern Practice

This article includes discussion of several details of particular interest to Reconstructionist Pagans looking for firmer grounding and learning from the living practice of traditional religion. Of special note are photographs of the altar at the shrine on Postectli, including explanation of the symbols and objects on it (photograph 12). Also, the practice of creating and honoring sacred paper effigies of the deities involved in the ceremony is explored in some depth. Paper has traditionally been a sacred material among the Nahua tribes, and paper representations of objects in worship is a very old practice indeed. Additionally, there is some detail on tobacco and drink offerings, as well as the use of music and the grueling test of endurance inherent in the extended preparation and performance of this ritual.

Contemporary Animal Sacrifice

A key part of the article’s focus is on the modern practice of animal sacrifice and blood offerings that survive among the Huaxteca today. These forms of worship have by no means been stamped out among the indigenous people of Mexico, as Sandstrom documents. (Yes, there are photographs in case you are wondering — scholarly, not sensationalistic.) Offering turkeys is something that has been done since long before the Conquest, and from what I have read they remain a popular substitute for humans in Mexico. It’s fitting if you know the Nahuatl for turkey — if I remember right, it’s pipil-pipil, which translates to something like “the little nobles” or “the children.” If I’m wrong, someone please correct me, as I don’t have my notes on the Nahuatl for this story handy at the moment. They got that name because in the myth of the Five Suns, the people of one of the earlier Suns were thought to have turned into turkeys when their age ended in a violent cataclysm, and they survive in this form today. I doubt the connection would have been lost on the Aztecs when offering the birds.

Closing Thoughts: Strange Coincidences

Reading this article was fascinating for both the glimpse into surviving native religion and the strange coincidences in my own practices and experiences. For one, the people of Puyeyaco were using ixiptla (god images) that were paintings of divinities on small, cardlike pieces of paper. Sandstrom was particularly struck by this, as nearly identical “cards” have been discovered buried in sacred boxes in the Templo Mayor from hundreds of years ago. This is a very old practice that has survived into the present day. I found it striking as well, as it is something that I do! I started doing this long before I read this study or heard of anything like it. Why? It just seemed right, especially as the traditional codices are usually formatted into panel-like boxes, with the actual pictures inside. Seeing that, I thought it seemed proper to paint single sacred images onto small, panel-like cards. I also store them wrapped in cloth and enclosed, something still done today.

Another odd parallel is a particular type of libation the worshippers offered to Apanchanej. In passing, Sandstrom mentions offering soft drinks to the Teotl, in addition to the traditional alcoholic beverages. In July I had an occasion to go sailing, and we were having violent storms off the coast of Massachusetts. I was caught rather by surprise, and as I was in a hotel at the time with my family, I couldn’t do a more “normal” offering to Tlaloc to ask for good, safe weather. I was sitting on the balcony watching the lightning rage over the ocean, wracking my brain for something to do. We had beer, and we had Mountain Dew. The beer just seemed wrong for some reason, but I know that pulque, the main drink offering made by the Aztecs, is a very sweet liquor… so… backed into a corner, I decided to offer Tlaloc some Mountain Dew. It’s sweet, it’s delicious, and it’s even green, a color traditionally associated with Him. It kinda seemed right.

I poured some out on the rocks on the shore and whispered a prayer to Him (with a note that this was the best I could do under these circumstances, and if He didn’t like it, I sure didn’t mean offense). Apparently He enjoyed it, for the weather was beautiful the next day. We had a brief cloudburst sailing back to the shore that was awe-inspiring rather than terrifying, and I stood on the rear of the boat gazing up at the towering clouds above and the boiling ocean around me, feeling the wind coiling around and hearing the distant rumble of thunder. There was even a rainbow as the stormlet ended. Tlaloc in the storm, His wife Chalchiuhtlicue in the sea, and Ehecatl in the wind, all together.

For bonus irony points, I later realized the humor in the name of the drink I shared with Him — Tlalocan, the home of the god, is traditionally said to be in a great mountain, and the mountains themselves are home to His ministers and the source of rain. I had to laugh.

At any rate, it’s interesting to see that this same alternative to pulque that I fumbled my way to in a pinch is something done by the very people who have worshipped the Teteo for centuries.

To wrap things up, Sandstrom’s article was a lucky find and is a valuable glimpse into modern-day indigenous practice of the same religion that Aztec Reconstructionists seek to honor as well. I strongly recommend stopping by FAMSI and checking it out, as my flyby overview of it can’t possibly contain everything of interest. On one last detail, I strongly encourage you to read the footnotes on this one — a lot more valuable info is hidden in those.

Tlaloc Seated on a Mountain Issuing Water, Plate 7 of the Codex Borbonicus

In the spirit of the aphorism “a picture is worth a thousand words,” I recommend stopping by the British Museum’s Aztec collection online. They have available 27 photographs (well, 26 if you ignore the crystal skull that’s been proven to be a hoax) of beautiful Aztec and Mixtec artifacts. Among them are statues of Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, Mictlantecuhtli, Tlazolteotl, Tlaloc, Xochipilli, and Xipe Totec, as well as a rare mosaic ceremonial shield, a turquoise serpent pectoral, and a sacrificial knife. The images are thought-provoking and intense, as these objects speak wordlessly the vision of the Nahua peoples without Colonial censorship.

Click HERE to visit the British Museum’s Aztec Highlights.

As a bonus, I located an excellent photograph of a jade mask of Xiuhtecuhtli, God of Time and Fire, which is a part of the British Museum’s collection but is not on their website. Thank you Z-m-k for putting your fine photography skills to work on this worthy subject material and for your kindness in sharing it under the Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike 2.5 License.

Jade Mask of Xiuhtecuhtli

]]> http://tlacochcalli.wordpress.com/2008/09/29/aztec-prayers-poems-collected-by-alarcon/ Mon, 29 Sep 2008 04:13:11 +0000 cehualli http://tlacochcalli.wordpress.com/2008/09/29/aztec-prayers-poems-collected-by-alarcon/

I came across a lovely little hoard of traditional Aztec poems, prayers, and songs the other night. These were originally recored in Ruiz de Alarcon’s 1629 work, Tratado de las supersticiones y costumbres gentílicas que oy viven entre los indios naturales desta Nueva Espana, commonly referred to as “Treatise on Heathen Superstitions” for short in English. For example, he’s posted prayers for safe travel, for love, and even a myth in song about Xochiquetzal and the Scorpion. Professor Joseph J. Fries of Pacific Lutheran University is the person who has generously posted these precious literary treasures, and he includes a bit of commentary as well. Thank you, Dr. Fries!

Click HERE to read some Aztec poems!

Xochiquetzal, Goddess of the Arts

I think it’s time for retelling another myth, Cehualli-style. Chronologically, this one follows immediately after the tale about how Quetzalcoatl recovered the bones from Mictlantecuhtli in the great cycle of creation myths of the Aztecs. In this story, the age of the Fifth Sun has just begun, and the humans have just been brought back to life. So now there’s dry land, light, and living people again, but the recreation of the world isn’t done yet, for the people have nothing to eat. The legend of the Origin of Corn shows how the Teteo solve this last problem and complete the restoration of Earth.

The Origin Of Corn

As told by Cehualli

The Teteo stepped back to admire their work. They looked up to the sky and saw the Sun, radiant and majestic as He moved across the turquoise-blue sky. They looked down below and saw the jade-green earth, full of life, bounded on all sides by the Sacred Waters of the sea. They saw the newly-reborn humans, gazing back at Them with awe and gratitude for what They had done. Then the gods realized that Their work wasn’t done yet.

“We’ve brought the people back to life, but it will all be a waste if they don’t have something to eat! Mictlantecuhtli and Mictlancihuatl will Themselves die of laughter if the bones They covet so badly return to Them this quickly,” said Xolotl, shaking His canine face in dismay.

“The different kinds of food that we’d given the people in the previous four Suns won’t be right for these, for these are true humans,” said Tlaloc, the Lord of Rain, His voice a rumbling growl like a jaguar. “We need to find the real corn for our new servants.” His words were correct, for in the past ages of the world, only lesser plants that mimicked corn existed, just like how real humans weren’t yet made.

Quetzalcoatl stroked His feathery beard, deep in thought, His eyes downcast. Right when He was about to speak, His gaze fell upon a tiny red ant… which was carrying a single kernel of corn. “I think We may have just found the true corn…” And with that, He descended back to the mortal world, leaving Tlaloc and the rest of the gods to watch what happened next.

“Wise ant, where did you find this corn?” Quetzalcoatl politely asked the tiny creature. The ant looked up at the god, surprised to see a Teotl talking to her, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she just kept on walking, not relaxing her grip on the corn at all. Undeterred, Quetzalcoatl turned himself into a black ant and followed after her.

At last they came to the foot of a soaring mountain. The red ant walked up to a tiny crack at the base and gestured to it with her antennae. “This is the Mountain of Sustenance. Corn, beans, chili peppers, and everything else that’s good to eat is stored inside.” Quetzalcoatl thanked her for her guidance and entered the mountain. Once inside, He gathered up some corn and brought it back to the heavenly world of Tamoanchan.

The rest of the gods were delighted by Quetzalcoatl’s discovery. “Our servants will live after all. Quick, let’s give them the corn!” They said. Quetzalcoatl took the maize and chewed it until it was soft, then gently placed it in the mouths of the newborn humans who were weak with hunger. Strength returned to the people, who praised the gods.

Meanwhile, Tlaloc and His ministers, the Tlaloque, were walking around the Mountain of Sustenance, examining it. “Now, what should We do with this?” He murmured to Himself, a hint of greed in His thunderous voice.

Quetzalcoatl broke open the mountain and admired the bounty within. “We’ll give it to the people so they’ll thrive and worship Us.”

Tlaloc frowned, His long jaguar teeth showing frighteningly. “No, I think I have a better idea.” And He suddenly ordered the Tlaloque to scoop up the food inside, and together They spirited it back to Tlaloc’s own realm, Tlalocan. Tlaloc admired His prize, running His fingers through the piles of food. “Why should I just give the humans all this for free? I should get something in return. I’ll water the earth and make the food grow, but only if they worship Me and offer blood. If they don’t, then I’ll send drought and storms until they keep their end of the bargain again.”

And that is how the right kinds of crops for humans came to be.

Writing out some of the theological questions that have been on my mind lately and discussing them with Xuchilpaba has been pretty productive in terms of inspiring me to start pulling together some of my thoughts into a semi-coherent form. As per my promise to share some of my own theological musings, today’s post is a piece on the issue of divine (im)morality — are the gods Good or Evil, or do these terms not even apply?

As I’d mentioned before, the Teteo are depicted in myth and liturgy as both helpful and harmful. On the one hand, Tezcatlipoca wipes out the people of Tula with a series of devious tricks, tormenting His brother Quetzalcoatl in the process. On the other hand, Huitzilopochtli is shown fiercely protecting His people against all danger as the young, vulnerable Mexica tribe migrates south to the site of Tenochtitlan. In some of the surviving prayers recorded in Book 6 of the Florentine Codex, the priests beg Tezcatlipoca to calm Himself and cease punishing the people with famine and plague, and they plead with Tlaloc to have pity on the dying children and end a drought. Clearly, the gods could be either your best friends or your worst enemies, in traditional Aztec thought.

With these depictions in mind, along with the historical fact of the Conquest and the very real suffering endured by millions around the world today, it’s not hard to come to the conclusion that no, the Teteo are not “Good” gods. I capitalize the word “good” here to highlight that I’m using the term in the sense of “morally perfect and benevolent,” rather than “useful.” I’m talking Good and Evil, not good and bad, to follow Nietzsche’s key distinction established in his classic “Geneology of Morals.” I don’t think it would be unreasonable to expect Good gods to want to reduce the suffering of Their followers, to the extent that Their power would allow them to do so. I would also think that They wouldn’t indulge in unjust behavior like collective punishment, punishing a whole group for the wrongs of some of its members as one post-Conquest legend suggests the gods sent the Spaniards to destroy the Empire because of the hubris of Montezuma. If the gods aren’t Good, are They Evil?

I’d say that They don’t fit the bill as Evil in the way it’s commonly used in modern theology. Evil in this context tends to mean that the deity in question is actively malevolent and wicked, inflicting suffering unfairly and delighting in victimizing others. The Aztecs attributed many kind and benevolent acts to the gods, such as creating and re-creating humankind, providing wisdom and the arts, and sustaining the Universe as a whole. There’s even a touching scene in the myths where, shortly after He revives them in the age of the Fifth Sun, Quetzalcoatl is shown tenderly feeding the new people like they are His babies, chewing the tough corn to make it soft and carefully placing it in their mouths by hand. In the context of modern practice, I know of some Aztec Reconstructionists who have had UPG experiences of some of the gods weeping out of pity for them or otherwise expressing affection. The Aztecs exhorted their children to be “friends of the gods” in the huehuetlatolli, and it seems that the gods can reciprocate such friendliness. In the light of such traditional depictions and modern experiences, I can’t say that the Teteo are Evil, either. But if They’re not Good and They’re not Evil, then what? Are They both, or neither?

My own thoughts on the matter as they currently stand is that maybe we’re going about this all wrong with this talk of Good and Evil outside of humanity. A recurring theme throughout Nietzsche’s work is that any creator must necessarily be “immoral” in a certain sense, beyond Good and Evil. What did he mean by “immoral”? Well, a necessary part of creation is destruction, annihilating the old to make way for the new and reshaping the material into new forms. Interacting with the creation in these ways will unavoidably cause it harm and suffering if it’s capable of feeling. A creator has to be able to steel Itself against the miserable cries of the creature and avoid falling into the paralyzing snare of pity, pity that would force the creator to abandon the work because It couldn’t stomach the pain It would have to cause the subject. This softness and pity would have the awful consequences of leaving things stuck in stagnant stasis, rotting slowly rather than being destroyed to be reborn afresh and seek greater heights.

I think that this might be one way out of the Good/Evil dilemma regarding divine morality, though perhaps not a very comfortable or satisfying one, and it may not be a complete escape from the problem. If we’re working from the position that there are personal, individual gods that interact with the world in some way, then They’re almost by definition going to be operating at the level of Nietzsche’s “creator,” the individual(s) who shapes, builds, and destroys the subject material. It seems to line up well with the way the Teteo are depicted periodically wiping away the decayed old things to make way for the new, and the way that old life passes through death and is the seed for new life via the sacrificial knife. The fit is even better when we stop and remember that the traditional Aztec cosmology is truly one of Order/Chaos rather than an Abrahamic-style “Battle of Good vs. Evil.” Order and chaos have to be nudged back and forth in a delicate balancing process in order for the universe to stay healthy and survive — the very epitome of creation and destruction. Suffering in this process is an unavoidable “byproduct” of the continuing act of creation and change, and the Powers That Be simply have to be cruel to a certain extent to get anything done. Thus, They can’t exactly be Good. But there’s no particular malice, which makes a label of Evil not quite right. So it seems that the least-problematic answer is to say that the Teteo are beyond Good and Evil.

Granted, this potential answer sucks in a lot of ways. It doesn’t do jack to comfort me when I suffer or when I see innocent people and animals in pain. It doesn’t make me any less pissed off when I feel like I’ve been left twisting in the wind or see the hundredth domestic violence victim in the courtroom pleading for a protective order against an abusive spouse. It also doesn’t promise us that the gods are going to help us in any given situation, though the traditional moral exhortations of the Aztecs, the huehuetlatolli, say that it sure doesn’t hurt to ask anyway.

This potential answer is also rather relative. While in one sense the gods might be beyond Good and Evil, in another sense, down at the personal, individual human level, They could be one or the other to us. If I were a starving child and I cried out to Tlaloc for help in a drought, and nothing happened, I’d sure call Him an evil bastard right then. From a human perspective, it would make sense. If one human showed such a callous indifference to the suffering of a fellow human that he or she had the power to help, most societies would condemn that individual as inhumane. On the other hand, switching perspective to a “god’s-eye view,” it’d be kind of like calling a lion “evil” when it eats an antelope. It’s just what the lion does and has to do, a brute fact of life. If keeping the world in balance is what a god does, then, continuing the Tlaloc example, governing the global weather patterns in their delicate balance, even if it means that child starves, is simply what must be done, regardless of individual suffering.

In other words, the gods aren’t the source of human morality in the realm of Aztec Reconstuctionism, nor is there a transcendent, absolute morality that can cover both gods and man. Humans have to work out morality for themselves, and the gods have Their own business to take care of. The two worlds can intersect, but they’re not always ethically-harmonious.

In closing, I don’t expect this article to answer everyone’s questions — it doesn’t even answer all of mine. And I certainly don’t claim to be some Aztec Recon pagan pope or prophet. This is just Cehualli’s (very tentative) View on this thorny, obnoxious, pain in the ass question. Take what you will from my thoughts, I hope this first step to untangling this theological knot is helpful.

Cand Hernan Cortez a debarcat in secolul al XVI-lea pe coasta Americii Centrale si a Mexicului de azi, a descoperit una dintre cele mai marete civilizatii ale tuturor timpurilor: aztecii. Pentru a putea intelege poporul aztec, trebuie intai sa il cunoastem pe acesta: modul de viata, obiceiurile si, mai presus de toate, credinta si religia acestuia. Politeisti, aztecii s-au remarcat nu atat prin varietatea credintei lor (zei,legende si mituri), cat prin inegalabila conceptie despre viata si moarte si despre instabilitatea Cosmosului, care le motiva savarsirea de sacrificii.

Pentru inceput, trebuie sa amintim de modul de viata al aztecilor din punctul de vedere al asezarilor umane. Conform legendei, in anul 1200, aztecii au coborat spre sud, in valea fertila a Mexicului. De asemenea, legenda mai povesteste cum Huitzilopochtli, zeul Soarelui si al razboiului, le-ar fi spus aztecilor sa isi intemeieze primul oras in locul in care vor vedea un vultur stand pe un cactus si tinand in gheare un sarpe. Se pare ca in jurul anului 1325 locul a fost gasit si satul intemeiat aici a fost numit Tenochtitlan. Construit intr-o zona mlastinoasa consolidata, Tenochtitlan a devenit in 1415 capitala Imperiului Aztec, iar in 1500 era probabil cel mai mare oras al lumii in momentul respectiv. Cand au ajuns pentru prima data in acest oras , conquistadorii spanioli au fost surprinsi si totodata impresionati de ceea ce fusesera in stare sa construiasca aztecii. Asemenea Venetiei,Tenochtitlan era format din mai multe insule si canale, legatura cu uscatul fiind realizata prin intermediul unui drum construit de-a lungul unui dig inalt. Orasul era inconjurat de gradini extrem de fertile, ceea ce favoriza activitatea agricola a locuitorilor. Apa potabila ajungea pe insula prin intermediul unor conducte. De asemenea, strazile orasului erau deosebit de curate; erau maturate, iar gunoiul era transportat cu slepuri. Orasul cuprindea locuintele aztecilor, dar cel mai important lucru de remarcat este piramida inalta de peste 30 de metri din centrul pietei. Piramida pe care o asociem in mod automat cu sacrificiile. Aici intervine problema conceptiei asupra vietii si asupra echilibrului lumii. Acest echilibru era legat de problema timpului, si anume de calendarul aztec. Astronomi desavarsiti, aztecii au reusit sa calculeze eclipsele cu un secol inaintea europenilor. “Din lanurile lor de porumb, locuitorii vechiului Mexic au stabilit durata anului astronomic cu o precizie pe care abia calculatoarele moderne au atins-o si au intrecut-o.” (Octavian Paler, Caminante ). La azteci, un secol era alcatuit din 52 de ani si astfel, la fiecare secol implinit focurile erau stinse si era asteptata aparitia stelei Aldebaran, care urma sa le confirme amanarea cataclismului cu inca un secol. Daca nu, Soarele nu mai avea sa rasara a doua zi. Tot conform miturilor aztece, lumea fusese creata de catre zei pana atunci de cinci ori si distrusa de patru: prima data oamenii au fost devorati de jaguari, a doua oara Pamantul a fost devastat de uragane, a treia oara focul a pustiit totul si a patra oara a fost acoperit de apa si oamenii au fost transformati in pesti. Se presupunea ca a cincea oara, si ultima, oamenii si Pamantul aveau sa fie distrusi de cutremure. “Cand steaua Aldebaran ajungea la zenit, un prizonier era asezat pe piatra de sacrificiu. Ii era deschis pieptul cu un cutit de obsidian si smulsa inima. In locul ei era pus un vas de turcoaza, continand o bucata de lemn cu care era aprins focul, de la care toti isi aprindeau tortele. Focul regenerator… . La ivirea zorilor, aztecii respirau usurati. Inca o data, isi imaginau ei, au platit prin sange verdictul cerului.”(O.Paler, Caminante ). Dar acesta nu era modul complet in care sacerdotii azteci savarseau sacrificiile. Dupa ce inima era scoasa cu cutitul de obsidian, era ridicata si aratata zeilor inca batand, dupa care pielea celui sacrificat era luata de pe trup si imbracata de catre preoti, astfel ei desfasurandu-si diferite dansuri rituale. Se mai spune, de asemenea, ca setea de sange a aztecilor era atat de mare si de nestapanit incat acestia duceau razboaie numai pentru a prinde prizonieri pe care urmau sa ii sacrifice, uciderea lor pe campul de lupta fiind un lucru de neinchipuit. De exemplu, la inaugurarea templului de la Tenochtitlan au fost sacrificati 20.000 de prizonieri! Paler scria: “In cronicile lor, semnul pentru sange e inlocuit adesea cu semnul pentru piatra pretioasa sau cel putin pentru floare … Nu era un inamic ucis cu ura, ni se spune, ci un mesager trimis zeilor sa-i regenereze. Razboinicul care-l lua in captivitate plangea cu el si il numea fiul meu …”. Pe langa aceste stranii gesturi de afectiune fata de cei sacrificati, aztecii ii tratau intr-un mod iesit din comun, atat din punct de vedere social cat si din cel al sanatatii, pentru ca ofranda sa fie binevenita de catre zei.

Dupa cum aminteam, zeii si religia ocupau un loc aparte in viata acestui popor. Nu sunt amintite nicaieri numele tuturor zeilor, dar cei mai importanti erau:

Tlaloc – zeul ploii

Huitzilopochtli – zeul Soarelui si al razboiului

Coatlicue – zeita cu fusta de serpi

Quetzalcoatl – sarpele inaripat, simbol al libertatii

Putem spune ca cel din urma a jucat un rol important in soarta marelui imperiu. Legenda spune ca odata disparut, sarpele inaripat avea sa se intoarca pe mare la o anumita data. Insa coincidenta a facut ca aceasta data sa fie aceeasi cu cea a sosirii lui Cortez, tot pe mare. Astfel, Moctezuma, regele aztecilor, a cedat oarecum in fata spaniolior, conducatorul lor fiind asociat cu Quetzalcoatl. Se spune, de asemenea, ca Moctezuma isi trimitea oastea la lupta pentru o cauza deja pierduta, lucru stiut de el.

Exista numeroase alte lucruri remarcabile de spus despre cultura azteca, urmasa a mayasilor, dar cel mai vibrant intre stancile istoriei este curajul inexplicabil, dar dovedit, in fata zeilor si a cerintelor acestora si, ca un adevarat paradox, viata insuflata in intreaga lor cultura. Oare steaua Aldebaran continua sa apara si acum sau lumea a luat sfarsit?

Alte informatii interesante :

- Piramida de la Tajin are 365 de trepte, una pentru fiecare zi a anului.

- Primul porumb cultivat in Europa provenea din peninsula Yucatan (Mexic), de la Valladolid.

- Saptamana din calendarul aztec era formata din 13 zile.

- La debarcarea pentru prima data pe tarmul peninsulei Yucatan, conquistadorii i-au intrebat pe bastinasi cum se numea tinutul. Acestia raspunzand Ciu than (nu te inteleg), spaniolii au numit peninsula Ciuthan, iar ulterior Yucatan.

Galderic, el crist català.

Originally uploaded by Sergi Bernal

The gods’ breath brushing into my hair, sailing down my spine, cools my flesh. The oncoming of a storm. The serenity. What storms await for me ahead? What demons will I face?

I remember the flash of lightning that sparked before my eyes. Not older than twelve, I cringed behind the couch, searching for security. I wanted to show my strength against nature. I exclaimed, “I’m not afraid of you,” and the bolt struck a nearby tree. The cracking and splintering, a soft fire brewing from the alms.

And now, I just wait for the flood to take me home.

Meet my thunder!
Meet my rain!
I break the firmament
and cleanse this world. 
I am Tlaloc,
Father of Rain.
I am Tlaloc,
I am every rain drop.
I am every lightning crash.
I am Tlaloc.
Meet my thunder!
Meet my rain!

-Loki.
Poetry(Ugh)

(Left side note here that my good friend Binary Cheshire has started a blog, The Entropy Report. Check it out. NOW)

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Tags: tlaloc, aztec, mayan, rain, poetry