At this juncture in the blog I can take one of two routes. I can tell you interesting facts about the place, OR I can charm you with pictures of me located at the Templo Mayor which could resemble something like this:
In the hopes of not causing you alarm and encouraging you to keep reading, I'm going with the historical route.
For those of you who don't know, the Aztecs founded their empire on an island in the middle of a very, very large lake. Lake Texcoco was large enough and deep enough to play host to one of Cortez's ships during the Conquest. He had the moxie to dismantle a ship on the gulf coast and have it hauled hundreds of miles inland and assembled once again at Lake Texcoco. I guess he had a knack for making dramatic entrances. Probably something a bit like this:
In the sense in which rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper and so on, Cortez was at least clever enough to know that canon ball beats everything. And if you want to really make an impact, send those cannonballs from a ship. In any event, here is a pictorial of what the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City) looked like at the time of the Conquest.
And, yeah, I know this is a terrible picture. Borders, borders. Why am I so bad at this?
The Templo Mayor was the religious center for the Aztecs in Tenochtitlan. It looked a bit like this mock up.
The Templo Mayor is the pyramid in the center with the two temples on the top. The temples were dedicated to the rain god, Tlaloc, and the chief deity in the Aztec pantheon, Huitzilopochtli. As you might expect a lot of this happened at the Templo Mayor.
The heart flying up to the heavens is intended to represent the sacrificial victim's assent into the heavenly realms.
You already knew this was coming, but the Spaniards tore down the Templo Mayor nearly to its base. In the sense of "You used to worship your god here, and now you can worship our God here", the Spaniards would construct a church where the native temples were formerly located. As if nobody would notice the difference?
Aztec: What happened to my temple? Where is our orderly skull rack?
Friar Juan: Uhhh. We have cookies and juice.
Perhaps the conquistadors forgot their tradition, which I sometimes refer to as the "holy place switcheroo", but they mistakenly built the Catedral Metropolitan right next to what remained of the Templo Mayor. Here you can see the Cathedral in the background. In the foreground is all that remains of the Templo Mayor.
Instead of a church, the Spaniards ultimately used the Templo Mayor premises as a trash dump. Never fear. Archeologists love to dig through trash and they found what remains as follows:
Notwithstanding, we lost a lot of history when the Templo Mayor was razed to the ground. Lake Texcoco was shared by two other empires who, with Tenochtitlan, formed the Triple Alliance. Netzahualcoyotl, the ruler of one of the other members of the Triple Alliance (Texcoco) just before the Conquest, had these sage words about the transience of life:
I, Netzahualcoyotl, ask this:
Is it true one really lives on the earth?
Not forever on earth,
only a little while here.
Though it be jade it falls apart,
though it be gold it wears away,
though it be quetzal plumage it is torn asunder.
Not forever on earth,
only a little while here.
It isn't my intention to get preachy, but I mention Netzahualcoyotl because I admire him as a sage and just ruler. We need only apply his same logic to temples, palaces and everything else that the Aztecs built. Most of it is gone now and proved itself to be as transient as human life.
Well, I digress. That serpent in the foreground is a representation of the Aztec god, Quetzalcoatl. I'm rather confused by why the conquistadors wouldn't finish the job by leaving Quetzalcoatl. Maybe all of that killing wore them out? Maybe they just like snakes and didn't realize that it was a representation of an Aztec deity? Either way, I'm glad they missed it. There are two of these images, and they both are located at the base of the Templo Mayor.
And if we can "excuse" Cortez for not smashing these images of Quaetzalcoatl to pieces, what about the few other images that were left? Here we have a chacmool that was found at the steps of the remains of the Templo Mayor still in its place.
The chacmool are rather common features, and that is because they served a rather common purpose. Notice that bowl the chacmool is holding? The purpose of that bowl would be to hold sacrificial offerings. It could be herbs, and it could be human hearts. Just depends on whatever the occasion called for I suppose. Perhaps the priests would just wake up one morning feeling kind of stabby?
And here are some of those stabby things. I learned a lot about the Aztec at UCLA, but I have no rational explanation for why the sacrificial knives looked like smiling fishies.
True fact: The popular cracker marketed to children as "Goldfish" was modeled after these sacrificial knives. Don't believe me? I see a strong resemblance.
Right next door to the Templo Mayor is what remains of the meeting hall for the Eagle Knights. This warrior class was limited to the elite. As the lowly son of a mill worker, I would not have been permitted to apply or to even enter. As the Eagle Knights approached this august meeting area, they would be met with this image of the god of death, Mictlantecuhtli.
I'm guessing this image would cause each Eagle Knight to ponder death - a suitable subject for a warrior. In the Aztec religion, warriors killed in battle or sacrificed after capture went directly to Aztec heaven. People who died of old age and all women, except those who died in childbirth, didn't fare nearly as well. Sorry ladies. But if the Eagle Knight had a better shot at heaven than the average fella and a heck of a lot better shot at heaven than a woman, I'm not sure this image gives one a warm and comfy feeling of well being. Would you really want to meet him? His liver is hanging out of his body for God's sake!
As you know, the Christian faith promises eternal life in a welcoming heaven. Mictlantecuhtli makes no such promises. As for me, I would have preferred to not die and just hang on tooth and nail to my frail human existence for as long as possible just to avoid those over-sized hands and the dangly liver flopping about.
After the Temlo Mayor we went next door to the Catedral Metropolitan. I love to walk about these old churches, especially ones when construction was commenced at the time of Cortez. One thing that you have to prepare yourself for when you enter a "Spanish" church is that they are dark and the crucifix will be bloody in its realism. Crucifixion is a very bloody business, and the Spanish really emphasize the point. Frankly, its hard to look at probably because it hits close to home. It is my faith after all.
Now, each of these churches have little "do's" and "dont's" about priceless things your aren't supposed to touch or some such. Those rules aren't for me. I call it my "Catholic privilege". I'm in the club, so I can bend these little rules. I was taking a picture of a crucifix in which the body of Jesus is painted black (or perhaps it was made out of ebony) and some docent sternly advised me to not take that picture. Everything else was fair game for my weak brand of photo taking, but this particular crucifix is inexplicably off limits? I wanted to explain the finer points of "Catholic privilege" to him, but you know we have a bit of a language barrier so I left off. I also didn't want to make a scene getting pulled out of the Catedral by my ankles while screaming "Catholic privilege" in English. Shameful.
Having toured the Catedral, we decided it was time to walk back to the hotel. In Mexico City, you will occasionally get asked for money. It is going to happen every time you go out, but it is never aggressive. My wife happened upon a strategy that will get you out of these situations (if you so desire). Simply blurt out some gibberish Spanish. It will confuse and alarm your foe. Upon being asked for pesos, my wife blurts out "No Que Pesos" which literally means "No, What, Pesos?" I have often wondered why anyone would waste years in high school taking French. Now I have the answer. It is so you can claim ignorance of Spanish and get out of passing out pesos right and left.
Another charming miscommunication that my wife used was to respond to the Spanish speaker "No comprendes" which DOES NOT mean "I don't understand" but does mean "You don't understand." I tried to get her to lay off on this one, but she was persistent. Telling people they don't understand their own language is not the way to make friends and will eventually get you slapped. I must, however, give her praise for attempting to communicate in Spanish. When we went to Quebec, I think she spoke French about three times in total and then only to say "hello" or "thank you". How is it she feels more comfortable with the Spanish speakers? Easy answer - her other option is French. If you have read the previous entries on my travel blog, I think you know how I feel about the French. Yuck.
And with that bit of story-telling, which will surely mean that I will not be served dinner tonight, I want to make it up to my wife with this post of her "dabbing". Apparently, that is a thing and despite my boys' protestations that she is doing it all wrong (like we care), I think she looks pretty good in the soft glow of a museum alcove with this cute little guy peaking over her shoulder.
Enjoy the remainder of your day. I will still be going hungry.
No comments:
Post a Comment