Showing posts with label Antigua. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Antigua. Show all posts

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Māyā, Kāma, Kāla



I was thinking about the past, as I'm prone to do, and reading last February's reflections on leaving for San Bartolo from Antigua, an action I'm due to repeat tomorrow. That was effectively my last update from Guatemala in 2008, and for good reason because the ensuing months were dense and difficult to decipher, much less write about, but it occurs to me that I owe some words about Copan and Tikal. So to employ a tricky timescale appropriate to an (amateur) archaeologist, I'll go back before moving forward. That is, I'll pay it forward with an overly packed entry because this time around I know enough to say I can't say when I'll have the opportunity to write again.



Copan is a Maya site in western Honduras, and one of that country's main generators of GDP. There are many things about Copan that I could write on at length, but, as my archaeological perspective is compromised by my art historical sensibility, I'll limit myself to the coolest-looking.



Copan's unique (among the Maya) artistic heritage is due in largest part to this man (above, in the bkg; and abover, in the foreground): Uaxaclajuun Ub'aah K'awiil, sometimes referred to as "18 Rabbit" thanks to an early mistaken decipherment. UUK lived in the shadow of his father, which was considerable both because of the considerable territorial expansion accomplished by UUK's predecessor and the literal shadow cast by a monument his dad had symbolically erected on the top of large hill miles away from the site center. What UUK lacked in military prowess he more than made up for in aesthetic innovation, ushering in a completely new idiom of nearly 3-dimensional sculpture in the decades between his accession to the throne and his execution at the hands of neighboring rival site, Quirigua (see below), a glyphically-known act that effectively ended Copan's hegemonic control of the region.



Some glyphs on a weird monument



A two-headed turtle, half-living and half-dead, and appropriately enough bathed in light and shrouded in dark, respectively.



Copan's hieroglyphic stairway: the longest continual (albeit poorly preserved) Maya text that has yet been discovered







Some abstract gems from the Copan sculpture museum.



This building, called Rosalila, is another oddity in Maya archaeology: it was, like most Maya architecture, built over with successive phases of new temple construction, but was first covered with a comprehensive coating of plaster and then left entirely intact, ritually entombed within a new structure. Upon discovering it, archaeologists used razor blades to expose the vibrant colors beneath the plaster, then created a scale model in the Copan sculpture museum.





Some more strange sculptures, these from Quirigua, Copan's vassal turned conqueror. The last picture is K'ak Tiliw Chan Yopaat, the man who did UUK in and commemorated the deed by building the largest stela in the Maya area, complete with a text dipping into the deepest regions of mythic time (it records events said to have occurred billions of years ago).



A psychedelic view from the top of Tikal's Temple IV that my camera accidentally took back in 2007.

Tikal's history is too vast and hyped to do any justice to, and I'm already boring myself and probably you too, so here's some quick highlights:



Temple I



A long and particularly informative text



Worked bone



And the thing about time is it always terminates in today. So now after dipping into my and others' pasts I'll turn to the future. The future holds for me, as it did around this time last year, a trip into dense forest, but one I now at least partially know. If this meandering entry signifies anything, it's the fact that my conception of time is very cyclical, circular, though punctuated by linear leaps, tangential reasoning, a jumbled, semi-coherent geometry. Honestly I don't know why I think so much about the past, except that I like to recycle it into the future, which everyone does I guess but I attempt to do with a bit more self-consciousness. Maybe it's because I'm a reflective Cancer (though on the schizoid cusp with forward-thinking Leo). Nor can I explain my penchant for return, my seemingly infinite regress. My decision-making process is opaque to me, a palimpsest where will, coincidence, serendipity, fate, self-fulfilling prophecy, and a simultaneous desire for novelty and familiarity all coexist, coevolve, cancel each other out.

To avoid wasting many more words on the untranslatable (for me, at least) topic of my own cognitive functioning - and to beat one of my favorite tropes even deeper into the ground - I'll leave off with a contemporary and two ancient quotations that satisfactorily explain, in the way only oblique explanations can, why I'm doing what I'm doing at this moment in time:

2009 for the Cancer:

"You could be involved in some heavy research and digging on the job. Deep personal changes are ahead...Your attitude towards close relationships and partnering undergoes transformations. Depth of experience will be sought... Over the next few years, you will be ridding your life of superficiality in your close relationships. Lessons learned may not always be easy, but empowering in the end...Your biggest enemy now is resentment, which can act to eat away your confidence and healthy state of mind. In 2009, your eyes are opened to new experiences and belief systems...If you do get a chance to travel, which could come up quite unexpectedly, unusual, eye-opening experiences may be in store for you."


Dharmakīrti:

No one behind, no one ahead.
The path the ancients cleared has closed.
And the other path, everyone's path,
easy and wide, goes nowhere.
I am alone and find my way.


Bhartṛhari :

Why all these words and empty prattle?
Two worlds alone are worth a man's devotion.
The youth of beautiful women wearied by heavy breasts
And full of fresh wine's heady ardor for sport,
Or the forest...


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Still life

Slow few days. In my life stasis never lasts too long so it's a nice change.



Fried eggplant at Rum Bar, kind of an ex-pat spot opened by a Louisiana transplant who also makes good jambalaya and grows his own mint (hence the Mojito, a rare excursion into the mixed drink world for me). Also pictured: Paz's prose, my pale imitation



Went back to the Casa Herrera to link up with master cipher David Stuart and my friend/current housemate/El Zotz co-director Edwin Roman, who gave a talk on San Bartolo to a group of potential Casa donors.


My current digs:














-Josh

Monday, March 23, 2009

Food and drink and things



My blog wouldn't be my blog nor Jay Bil-approved if I didn't talk about STREET FOOD.



Which I haven't been hitting up too much. On Sunday I indulged in the tipico breakfast buffet, which included beans, fried plantains, fruit, crepeish things, and this weird concoction with a fried egg baked into bread, all of which constituted both breakfast and lunch and a great (full disclosure:) hangover cure.







After which I did peruse the bustling SF scene outside La Merced. I was too full to partake and it was mostly meat stalls anyway, but I did hit up this mango stand.



Got this pupusa for lunch today, a corn tortilla filled with cheese, covered with avocado (peeled and pitted without any utensils, impressive), cabbage and hot sauce, + d. coke for < $1. We jam econo.



On Saturday, though, I hit what will probably be the highest note of Street Food '09: Hugo's Ceviches. This is bizarre. It's a pickup truck that drives fresh seafood up from the Pacific coast, only two days a week, only for a few hours on each of these days, which, along with the location of the truck, remain undisclosed until the day of. It's mostly local patronage. If you're hesitant to eat raw seafood from the back of a pickup truck, chances are you won't plumb the local rumor mills to go out of your way to find it.

And the fact of eating raw street fish isn't even the weirdest part about Hugo's. That honor goes to the "cerveza preparada."



1. Get a beer, take a few sips, return for salt and lime. So far so good.



2. Things start getting weird when they add the "salsa secreta," a brown sauce with a secret recipe that tastes to include fish oil, worcestershire and sugar.



3. Add green salsa and onions, why not? You already lost me with the brown stuff.



4. Equals this. Discretely brown-bagged to circumvent open container laws.



The sketchy meal in total. The sauce in the ceviche is the same as in the beer, so it works together with this completely mind-bending complementarity. And the cerveza preparada is great. I went back for another on Sunday.


Some things:





Antique scale and book press from Casa Herrera.





Some rather "modern" assemblages from the Hotel del Carmen.



Icon



Bonus round: projector from the planetarium at the Boston Museum of Science. I just found these pictures from my trip there last Fall, which somehow eluded upload until now.





Well, 4 more days in Antigua. What to do?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Antigüedad



Busy few days in Antigua.







Soon after arriving I met Carolyn Porter of the Art History department at UT Austin. Carolyn led me and some other San Bartolo affiliates on a tour of Casa Herrera, an interdisciplinary research center for Mesoamerican art and culture. The Casa is relatively new, and will serve as a base for academic residencies, graduate projects, and lectures from visiting scholars across the disciplinary board. It happens to be an elegant space as well, a former hacienda and sugar refinery that is one of the few remaining establishments in Antigua to retain its colonial apportionment of a quarter of a city block.







What appeals to me about the Casa is its mixture of a rich and layered architectural heritage with a dedication to still emerging ideals of interdisciplinarity, collaboration, and social and environmental responsibility. Walking through a back courtyard you encounter a pre-Columbian metate (grinding stone; above, above) that was found and left in situ; a rare and rather suggestive fountain sculpture of a merman conquistador (above, middle); a baby ceiba (above, below), which was regarded as the "world tree" by the ancient Maya and retains great cultural significance among contemporary Maya people; and a water collection tank that catches the rain and converts it to greywater suitable for washing clothes and dishes.

Plus: killer roof views.




Saturday saw a mini-market mission to check out wares for sale by Ruth (above with the ceiba), a Kaqchikel Maya weaver from the village San Antonio Aguas Calientes. The Kaqchikel have a vibrant but endangered tradition of colorful hand-crafted textiles, which take anywhere from 2 weeks to 6 months to make on cumbersome backstrap looms. I'm not much of an aesthete when it comes to such things, but I have to admit the resulting designs are amazing:






This guy rolled through, seems like a good Proyecto. I guess Central American countries are pretty fuel efficient, we could take a lesson from them up north.






Caught this Lent procession through the Parque Central on my meandering way home.



I was gonna write about STREET FOOD but I'll leave that for tomorrow. For now I'll leave you with some night shots of the parque central.





Buenas
Josh