Who knew?

Well, probably many of you knew Mexico could look like this, but Nichole and I were surprised! This was taken as we left San Cristobal de las Casas, headed toward Ocosingo.

Talking to some locals

Palenque, which is understandably one of the most famous Mayan sites, is also full of locals selling "crafts" to tourists--among them these kids, who talked to Nichole and I about when our birthdays would fall in the Mayan calendar, and then had a few things to say to their counterparts in our Madison classrooms.

Heard through the grapevine . . .

that some of you are having trouble commenting on our blog! I just changed the settings, which might help : ) If not, you can e-mail us at taptocan@gmail.com. We're also both getting your messages on Facebook--thanks for the oohs and aahs and encouragement!

Also, there's speedy internet tonight in Campeche, so we'll probably be posting some things out of order and adding a couple of video clips to previous posts. Look especially for the video of us coming upon our first Olmec head, which should be up in a few minutes : )

Que tengan buenas noches!
--Kris

Our first glimpse of the colossal heads!

Here we are in Villahermosa, Tabasco, the site of the La Venta Archaeology Park, which is, of course, the site of the Olmec head that kicked off our soon-to-be-famous integrated unit! 

Before I tell you about that experience, however, let me begin by saying that Villahermosa is HOT, HOT, HOT!!!  Much of this city sits about 10 meters above sea level in the Gulf of Mexico, so it is prone to flooding and extremely humid weather.  I, Nichole, am already nursing several mosquito bites from working on my computer in the Palenque hotel lobby (malaria medicine, please work your magic!), so I was less than excited to see our second Wisconsin state bird making its presence known in Tabasco as well.   Covered in Deet-filled mosquito repellant and sunscreen, Kris and I embarked on the ruins of Comalcalco, just outside of Villahermosa.

As is the case with each new site we visit, the archaeology has similarities and differences.  Of course, we saw some jaguar imagery, pyramids, a city center, and stucco, but what made this location different was the type of building materials used to create these things.  The Maya in this area used red bricks with mortar made of ground oyster shells (from the Gulf of Mexico).  Their bricks were also very rectangular, and resemble modern bricks and mortar.  Because these bricks were not as durable as the large stones used at other sites, parts of the site had to be reconstructed to show what the buildings probably looked like.

Thankfully, this site was small, and we were able to get back on the road in the air-conditioned car, and on our way back to Villahermosa.  During the drive I couldn’t help but jot down all of the different American businesses found in this city (kind of like playing the “count the different state license plates” game on a cross-country trip).  Large oil deposits in Tabasco have brought all kinds of rigs, enterprises, and other American corporations to this part of Mexico.  It was almost hard for me to believe that I hadn’t somehow ended up back home! 

Mexican oil has been nationalized since the 1930’s, when the government negotiated terms with the United States to remove America’s direct involvement in oil resources in the country.  From there, the actual timeline of events and history of American drilling and involvement in Mexican oil gets complicated and confusing—as does modern political history and the de-unionization of PemEx (Mexico’s major oil company).  Suffice to say, there is no shortage of Shell signs in this area, and plenty of foreign oil workers to go with them.

Ok...back to La Venta.  It turns out that because of drilling in this region, the actual archaeological site of La Venta has endured many changes.  In the 1930’s and 40’s, artifacts began to appear at the site.  Drilling and blasting at the site ruined several pieces, but archaeologists were able to salvage some important artifacts by moving them to other locations.  Some ended up at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City and other archaeology museums around the country.  Eventually, some pieces were placed in the La Venta Archaology Park, where we went to see them.

The Olmec heads are even more impressive in person than they are in photographs!  They weigh several tons and are carved out of basalt, a type of volcanic rock.  Of course, the big mystery surrounding the heads at La Venta is that the nearest source of this rock is at least a hundred miles away, so nobody really knows how they got these massive pieces all the way to the site using the technology of the time.  Incidentally, there is a great BBC documentary that shows modern archaeologists attempting to recreate the process of moving a giant piece of basalt and carving it into a face using the tools and technology of the time period.  I’ll let you watch it to see what they find.

At the park, we were able to shoot the video footage of the picture I had in my head when we kicked off this unit a year and a half ago. 

It is also the narrative with which we began our grant proposal… 

Imagine trudging through the Mexican rainforest in search of artifacts left behind by ancient Mesoamerican civilizations. The sun is hot, the forest humid, and just when you think you cannot go any further, you come upon a monolithic stone head. What is this? Where did it come from? Why is it significant? You put on your best “archaeologist’s hat” and begin investigating. Soon you learn that this artifact is only the beginning. You find a scientist who can analyze the type of rock from which it is carved, and you discover that the nearest source for this enormous boulder is hundreds of miles away. This leads you further down a line of questioning. How did it get here?  Who put it here? Are there more? Most importantly, what does it teach us about ancient Mesoamerican civilizations, and how does it connect to our lives today?

 Till next time, Friends!  Enjoy! J

Driving in Mexico

It’s been a week now of looking out the window as we drive from place to place, and I’ve learned some unexpected things about the roads in Mexico. For one, they have very few speed limit signs (and the ones they do have are in km/hr, which I’m still not very good at converting on the fly). Most of the roads we’ve been on are two-lane local roads, so we can be moving along at a pretty good clip, but then come an area with houses along the road. There are no signs to indicate a change in speed is needed; instead, they use speed bumps—speed bumps everywhere! And these are serious bumps that you have to almost stop for, not the mellow little things we have in parking lots at home. Some places there’s a sign indicating a “bump zone,” but most of the time you just have to be alert. The other drivers will help you out by putting on their hazard lights when they come to a bump, because apparently brakelights would not fully communicate the situation. (I can never even remember where the hazard lights are in my Mazda!)

It’s also very common to drive in the wrong lane, especially if you’re trying to avoid the steepest speed bumps or other kinds of ruts and potholes. Some places seem to have indications of “passing zones,” but generally, if you come up behind someone who is slower than you, they will put their left turn signal on to indicate that you should go around. You will then use your left signal to pass and your right signal to come back into your lane—which always makes me wonder, what if you think the car ahead is signaling that you should pass, but really they mean they are going to pass someone?

Also, whether you are driving through a “poblado” settlement of houses or are far from any visible community, there are often people walking along the sides of the roads. It might be a whole family dressed up like they are headed to a party, a group of young boys with bags of palm leaves they’ve cut, a farmer with a fertilizer tank on his back returning from the field, or just a couple of kids on their own. Everywhere you look, people are on their way to somewhere else. Sometimes they have a cart or a wheelbarrow carrying things; sometimes they are riding a bicycle; or in some areas we’ve seen men riding horses. In the little villages themselves, there may be kids standing by the side of the road trying to sell you fruit or baked goods, and often there are groups of people waiting for a bus or a taxi or a ride from a friend. On one stretch of road yesterday, an old woman had a rope with flags stretched across the road so it looked like you had to buy a banana from her before you could get past her temporary barrier.

And speaking of barriers, we’ve also been surprised by the number of police and military roadblocks and checkpoints. (Mothers, don’t worry—we’re fine!) Perhaps it’s because up until now we’ve been in the state of Chiapas, which has had some civil unrest; or because we’ve often been close to the border with Guatemala. In any case, sometimes it’s local police, sometimes the national Federales, and sometimes the army. Apparently, in Mexico, as in the US, they have a posse comitatus law which says the army can’t be involved in domestic police actions, but they’re doing these roadblocks anyway.  (Quick shout out to The West Wing, which taught me that fancy Latin phrase!)  Our driver and guide seem to take these checkpoints in stride, and most of the time, we are waived right through, probably because Nichole and I are clearly non-Mexican tourists. On the way from Bonampak to Palenque, however, we actually had to get out of the car so they could look under the seats; I noticed a sign in English explaining that these stops are to protect everyone’s safety by monitoring for drug smuggling, illegal immigrants, and invasive species. Hard to argue with that, I suppose, but the heavily-armed display of authority is still a little unnerving.

But really, mothers, don’t worry! At this point, the heat and the humidity are much more of a threat than the Mexican authorities—and don’t even get Nichole started about the mosquitoes : ) –Kris

Unanswered questions . . . can you help?

Here are some things Nichole and I have been wondering about as we work on the lessons to go with this unit—any answers or insights would be much appreciated!

--Why do tropical plants have bigger leaves than the plants in Wisconsin? Or does it just seem that way?

--In the US, it seems that areas of higher elevation are more arid than the lowlands. Is that true in the tropics? Or on other continents?  

--What is the difference between “jungle” and “rainforest”?

More to come, I’m sure : ) –Kris

The jungle . . . the tropics . . . the ruins . . . the steps!

For those of you who have never seen me in extreme heat and humidity, here I am! Notice the smile, and the elephant ear plants in their native environment.

If the places we were over the weekend showed us a side of Mexico we hadn't known existed, the past two days have come closer to our expectations . . . and yet there's nothing that can really prepare you for a boat ride down the river with Guatemala on one side and Mexico on the other. And then when you hear monkeys hollering (almost more like roaring) and then catch a glimpse of a two-thousand-year-old structure through the vines . . . well, it's going to be hard to capture in words what we have seen!

The place at the end of the boat ride is called Yaxchilan, and until about 15 years ago, the only way to get to it without a private plane was to trek through the jungle for two or three days, faster if your mule was speedy. Then an economic/political agreement called NAFTA took effect, and that was the last straw for some people in this part of Mexico. They founded a political party (or terrorist group, depending who you ask) called the Zapatistas, started leading protests and antagonizing the federal authorities, and the Mexican army decided they needed a better road if they were going to reign in these rebels. It's a long story, which Nichole can explain better than I (wait until you see her Zapatista gear), but basically it meant that we could hop in the Nissan with Luis and Daniel and have a relatively uneventful drive through the jungle to the boat launch.

After Yaxchilan, we went to Bonampak, where the local indigenous group called the Lacondones control the last stretch of road to the site, thus finding a way to make a profit off of tourist traffic and create a steady income for their community. And today we were at Palenque, which had at its peak 1200 stone buildings, so you can guess at its population.

So here we are, in the jungle, looking past kapok trees strung with broad-leafed vines, listening to a drone of insects punctuated by the call of toucans, climbing up steps to temples and royal home and crypts built and inhabited by the Maya about 250 B.C. and 800 A.D., mas o menos a few decades. Each site has crumbled buildings, and reinforced buildings, and buildings still covered under dense tangles of vegetation. In many places, there are carvings--elaborate carvings on eight-foot limestone slabs--that show rulers and prisoners, gods and animals, celebrations of birth or of the spoils of war. Even more remarkably, at a few sites frescoes painted with minerals and vegetable dyes have been preserved over all these years. From these images, and the pictogram writing that accompanies them, archaeologists have pieced together everything that is known about this complex civilization. They know that the people thought crooked teeth were beautiful and filed their own teeth into fangs, that they poked holes in their fingers to collect blood for burnt offerings, and that generations of intermarriage led to rulers with serious physical and cognitive defects. More amazingly, perhaps, is that after four or five days immersed in this stuff, Nichole and I are starting to recognize familiar icons even before our guide points them out : )

Of course, to get to them, you have to climb a lot of steps. For me, it's not so much the going up that's the problem; it's the coming down when my legs feel rubber-y. But, for the most part, I'm channeling my inner mountain goat and getting it done. (If there were mountain goats native to this region, the Maya would definitely have thought they were a sacred animal!)

Time for me to rehydrate and rest . . . we make the transition tomorrow from Maya to Olmec, an even older meso-American civilization. I'm really hoping they didn't build pyramids : )   Buenas Noches--Kris