Rebuilding the Maya Cosmos from the knees up Judith M. Maxwell - - PDF document

Rebuilding the Maya Cosmos from the knees up Judith M. Maxwell Tulane University Ruk’u’x kaj, ruk’u’x ulew Ruk’u’x kaq’iq’, ruk’u’x jöb’ ruk’u’x k’aslemal Heart of sky, heart of earth Heart of wind, heart of rain heart of life So may commence the prayers of ritual, but in the beginning, even before there was the word, there was social action, ritual action, both a definition and recognition of space, as well as a calling into being of sacred space. Time too is sacred and the space- time continuum is interwoven in contemporary Kaqchikel1 ceremonies. There is a sense in which the sacred is ever-present in the Kaqchikel world. Ixcha’im Marliny Son Chonay in her licenciatura thesis at Mariano Gálvez notes that while the grammar shows us an animacy hiearchy, the bottom rungs, unlike the English counterparts, are not inanimate, simply less animate. Rocks and comals are sentient; they can feel pain; they can protest mistreatment. This in-dwelling animacy binds the beings

• n this plane, the middle plane, if you will, together. At the same time, beings who have

left this plane of existence are not presumed to have given up interest in it, in their living relatives, in their communities, in the environs of that community. They may manifest in this dimension, visiting, giving advice, observing, causing or curing illness. Particular days, dates and times are more propitious for facilitating communication with these spirits, and with other inhabitants of the non-here, but in times of need, through the vehicle of ritual, connections can be established between living scions and their ancestors, between petitioners and spiritual patrons. Given that the sacred is omnipresent, connections can be made anywhere, but most Maya households have an altar area. The area may be simple, little more than a small table often below a religious icon; or it may be elaborate. Devout Catholic households may have carved statues, multiple pictures of saints, roods and rosaries. The altars may be adorned with flowers or candles. Often a glass of water is left out on the altar for the visiting spirits. The space of the house itself is sacred. When a new house is raised, the lot is blessed, the four corners are laid out and the beams raised, creating three dimensional space and consecrating it to the family. Traditional household compounds are laid out around a central patio. Though access to the road or entrance from the solar may dictate the placement of the doorway in the compound wall and even the placement of the first

1 The prayer forms and ritual acts described here are those I have observed over the past twenty years of

fieldwork with the Kaqchikel. More recently, I have also participated in ceremonies led by K’ichee’ and Tz’utujiil practitioners of traditional Mayan spirituality. While some ajq’ijab’ advocate standardization of practice, canonization of ritual, and schematization of prayer forms, there is still tremendous variation from

• ne celebrant/prayer-maker to the next. However, the structures I describe here are common to all. The

transcripts I provide are all in Kaqchikel, but cognate forms are found in K’ichee’ and in Tz’utujiil.

house on the lot, typically the compound grows to establish a dwelling or set of rooms on each of the four sides, leaving a central open spot, for the patio. Mayan houses are usually located within communities. These communities replicate the quincunx pattern, a central space, usually occupied by a Catholic church, a plaza and municipal buildings, and then cantones, or neighborhoods laid out on the four sides of this square. This livable space for the community is defined and protected by spiritual guardians inhering in natural features of the landscape. Though mountains, hills, prominences, precipices, crags, boulders and ravines rarely align themselves in perfect squares, the guardian features can be roughly associated with east, west, north, and south. Each of the guardian features has an inherent spirit, as does every natural feature. This spirit extends its aegis over the town, but is also directly responsible for the well-being of the flora and fauna living on its slopes.2 In addition to the spirit-owner of the mountain, the energy of each natural feature is linked with that of a day in the 260-day ritual calendar, cholq’ij (Yucatec tzolkin). While some energy naturally imbues the hilltop, rock, ravine, cliff or tor, human action affects and effects that energy. The Kaqchikel Chronicles (pp.93-104) relate how the Kaqchikel lord, Q’aq’awitz “Fiery Mountain” defeated a local champion named Tolk’om to open the Lake Atitlán area to Kaqchikel and Tz’utujiil settlement. Tolk’om, as a respected enemy was sacrificed, quartered and thrown from a height into the lake. Q’aq’awitz instructed the Kaqchikel to commemorate this sacrifice yearly. Tik’o jujun juna’ xa tib’an wa’im, uk’a’am, xa kech’ab’in ak’wala’ Xa tunay chïk ruk’exewach tikik’äq b’ila k’a tüx ri Tolk’om Let it come to pass each year that food and drink be prepared; that children shoot arrows. With the tunay [tree] as his substitute, let them shoot as if it were Tolk’om. (op.

• cit. p. 102)

The modern altar site at this point has been renamed, though the town magistrates recognize the “original” name given in the Chronicles, Kaqb’atz’ulu’, “throwing place of the arrows/the shafts”, the site is more commonly refered to as Pa Tz’ulu’, “At the Reeds” (note: the “shaft” reading of tz’ulu’ has been superceded by the more quotidien meaning – “reed(s)”. The altar for this site is reached by a narrow rift trail dropping over the lip of a ravine and snaking its way up to a narrow ledge before a small cave opening. Precariously perched on a nearly verticle cliff face, this altar is sacred to Tz’ikin “bird (Yucatec Men.) However, the Tolk’om sacrifice here and its recurrent celebration pre- kaxlan times, dedicated the spot to a second day bearer, Toj, patron of sacrifice, payment, and exchange.

2 There are myriad stories of rajawala’ juyu’ “mountain-owner spirits” allowing respectful hunters to kill

animals, deer, rabbits, etc, from a corral, while sending rapacious huntsmen away empty handed, or causing them to become lost on the mountainside. Other tales tell of ladino-esque spirits dwelling in the mountain who will pay good wages to those who stay to work for them for a spell. Those who have gone to work for these earth-lords often find that the “month” they spent on the lord’s farm passed as years for their wives and families.

The hillside Yalab'ey Simajijay Motzorey “Delay-road stake-house grouping” is named for the battle strategy that the Kaqchikel used to defeat a combined Nahuatl- Tzeltalan force. The Kaqchikel felled trees on the mountain top, trimmed them and rolled the massive trunks down the hillside, killing all but two of the enemy. The hillside is sacred to Tijax “Obsidian” and to Kawoq “Storm” (the latter in the role of protector). This historic acts link the Kaqchikel to their places. This tie is continually reaffirmed and strengthened through ritual action. During periods of strong religious or ethnic persecution, public celebration of traditional Maya forms retreated from view. In the on-going sacred sites survey, my co-researchers and I3 found that of the 71 altars 20 showed no signs of recent ritual activity. Altars require maintenance, they require continual interaction. Typically each altar has a warinel, chajinel, a caretaker, who is responsible for performing ritual at the site at regular intervals. These caretakers, through constant interaction with the day bearers and the rajawala’ juyu’, come to understand the preferences of these spirits for particular offerings, prayer forms, and interaction. These caretakers advise others seeking access to the sites on the most pleasing sacrifices/offerings to make and the best times of day to approach the site. Care of a site

• r sites may be passed down from a chajinel to a relative, or to another ritual specialist.

Of the sites in our survey, we found two sites which no longer had living caretakers, the heirs of the last caretaker having chosen not to accept the responsibility. We also spoke to daykeepers who received their charge to become spiritual guides for the community from an elder relative who had so served. Not all, however, took over the complete “burden” or set of responsibilities left to them. Some sought to share the assignments, but when the erstwhile cohort failed to take up the vara, did not tend the assigned altar and spirits, those tasks were simply let lie fallow. Thus the ritual landscape is in constant flux, with power in places waxing and waning in response to human action in, on and within the landscape. Each altar is associated with at least one day-bearer, a day from the 260-day

• calendar. The calendar round, as you know, is composed of twenty named days and

thirteen numeral coefficients, a fact, I will come back to later. Not only is a day name linked to an altar, but a day name with a specific coefficient. Thus, we have in our survey sample Wuqu’ Kawoq “Seven Storm”, Wuqu’ Tijax “Seven Obsidian”, Oxlajuj Tijax “13 Obsidian”, B’eleje’ Kawoq “Nine Storm”, Kab’lajuj Aj “Twelve Aj”, Waqi’ Kamey “Six Death”, Oxlajuj Kan “13 Serpent” and B’eleje’ Tz’i’ “Nine Dog”. Thus, each altar is associated with a specific day-bearer, not simply a day sign. However, practitioners using a site focus on the day-name rather than the co-efficient. Strength of the site and efficacy in resolving problems/responding to petitions does not depend on the numeral co-efficient but on the ritual activity itself. Thus pilgrimage sites are the most

3 This project began in 2005 at the intellectual instigation of Dr. Robert M. Hill. Beginning in summer of

2005 with the assistance of two Kaqchikel daykeepers, ajq’ija’, Ma Cristóbal Cojti’ and Kawoq Cumá Chávez, I undertook a reconnaissance of sacred sites in the central highlands, centering the initial exploration around the Kaqchikel capital of Iximche’. In subsequent years, I have expanded the radius of the survey, working with 21 daykeepers. In 2007, Ajpub’ García Ixmata’, researcher at the Instituto Lingüistico of the Universidad Rafael Landívar, joined me as co-researcher. In 2008, together with Ann Scott, abd University of Texas – Austin, we enjoyed the support of a FAMSI grant and were able to much more intensely explore sacred domains, including some Tz’utujiil altars as well. To date we have visited and recorded 71 altars.

• powerful. As more people flock to these altars, the power of the altar is augmented. (See

Appendix One for the major pilgrimage sites in this survey). An altar site may be picked for congruence between the daysign patron of the altar and that of the client, between the patron and the need/desire of the patron, between the patron and the daysign of the ajq’ij as petitioner. The offerings are chosen with equal attention to the patron, the client, the petition and the ajq’ij. A daykeeper may perform a ceremony alone or with one or more co-celebrants. Many daykeepers regularly bring an assistant, not necessarily an acolyte, but some to lend both physical aid, perhaps helping to carry offerings, though this is often the toj, payment, penance, offering, sacrifice, of the petitioner(s); perhaps contributing to the mental energy focused on the offering fire; perhaps providing another pair of eyes and ears for signs offered by the fire, the smoke, and the environs. Though schooled in reading the fires, attuned as well as signs in their own body of communication, most ajq’ija’ prefer to have confirmation of the symbols which appear in flame, ash, and candle melt. Such symbols are often ephemeral, morphing as the air flurries; accreting, dissolving and reforming as candles melt and are consumed by the flames. In co-celebrated ceremonies, responsibility for different parts of the ceremony may be spread among practitioners. In this next section, I will briefly outline each section and discuss normative distribution of roles in large multi-celebrant events, such as Waqxaqi’ B’atz’ “the day sacred to daykeepers and their assumption of their ritual

• bligations with respect to the communities they serve”4.

Large co-celebrant ceremonies5 Laying out the altar The celebrants arrive at the designated site, deposit their burdens6, and begin to clean the site. A broom, usually switch or brush besom7, is used to clear the area of debris, such as discarded wrappings of previous ceremonies, fallen branches and leaves, food remains. An area large enough for the celebrants and the number of active participants is cleared. The altar area proper, the burn circle, is brushed clear of ash. Care must be taken in sweeping away debris and clearing standing room to provide space for all the worshippers without moving people into neighboring burn circles. One may not stand on or step over a burn circle, active or inactive.

4 Waqxaqi’ B’atz’ has been referred to in the popular media as the Maya New Year. In the immediate post-

Peace Accords years, celebrations of Waqxaqi’ B’atz’ at pilgrimage sites, such as the back plaza at Iximche’ drew several hundred “worshippers”. Senior spiritual guides, daykeepers, such as Narciso Cojti’, while welcoming participants, have stressed that this holiday is sacred to the daykeepers, for their avocation, rather than being a generalized celebration of Mayanness, or of a “new” year. B’atz’ is not a potential year-bearer.

5 In this section, I merely describe the practice. In the following section, reprising these steps on the more

intimate level of a single practitioner, I will offer an analysis of how these actions, words, and thoughts (re)create the universe and hold it within sacred space/time.

6 These burdens will include materials to be offered to the fire, the celebrants patan “ritual bundle holding

• bjects of power collected during the ajq’ij’s life of service or handed down to hir”, and food/drink to be

communally consumed after the celebration. Sometimes the food and drink are not carried to the site, but are consumed upon return to the town or home, but for mass events, food and drink are typically consumed “on the grounds”. If the altar area is somewhat accessible, a marimba may be carried in. As two-three player marimba’s can be carried by tumpline, many remote altars still qualify as “accessible”.

7 These brooms may be made on the spot, by ripping branches off of nearby trees and bushes, or by

collecting downed twigs, or they may be cached and reused.

Once the area is clean, the daykeeper begins to move the space into the realm of the sacred. I will return to this part below, when I discuss the ceremony as creating the cosmos, space and time. Here, let me just note, that at this point the daykeeper, who may have been in mufti to this point, will don hir ritual attire. For major ceremonies, this will consist of a cloth head wrap and, often, necklaces, of obsidian, crystal, or old coins. Men may wear red sashes, or woven belts, often over their quotidien Western-style belts. The daykeepers individually make offerings or dedications at the portal shrine, asking permission to approach the spirit world, dedicating themselves to the work.8 Permission granted, the lead ajq’ij will lay out the Q’anil9 (Yucatec Lamat) sign in the center of the burn circle. The dimensions of this sign will determine the size of the offering fire. Large celebrations will have large circles. The 2006 Waqxaqi’ B’atz’ Q’anil sign was nearly 2 m. in diameter. As s/he does this, other participants will be unwrapping10 the various offerings. These may include several classes of incense, light pine, chocolate, bread, herbs (usually seven varieties), sesame, panela, honey, and agua florida, a light cologne that comes in a variety of colors, each propitious for a certain type of petition. Liquids are brought out, usually in bottles. These may include white lightnings, rum, aguardiente, beer, red pop, soda and water. Flowers may be placed around the edge of the Q’anil sign, cartouche-like. They may be offered entire on subsidiary altars, at the portal shrine, or shredded and strewn around the Q’anil emblem. Once the offerings are laid out, filling in, covering, and bounding the Q’anil sign, the prayer may begin. Invocation Cardinal directions: The head ajq’ij positions co-celebrants at the four corners of the Q’anil-defined altar. If there are enough ajq’ija’, s/he may station couples (female and male) at the corners and the cross-corners. Other celebrants fill in the circle beyond these ajq’ija’, who will be prayer-leaders. All face east11 and the lead ajq’ij begins the invocation, saluting the east, stating the reason for the gathering, introducing hirself, the co-celebrants, the group, their intentions, needs, desires, recalling and extolling the gifts that emanate from the east, from the sun, from heat, blood, life. Having summoned the powers and energy of the east, the sun, all kiss the earth and turn to the west. The celebrant(s) stationed there invoke the west, recalling those who are now resting- poqolaj chïk, chaj chïk “dust again, ashes again”-, celebrating a time of rest, renovation, new beginnings and innovation. As the invocation ends, again the ground is

• kissed. Next the north is saluted, birthplace of winds. Kissing the earth acknowledges

the end of this summoning. The South follows, associated with warmth, with rains, with corn, and with planting. And again the call ends with bussing the earth. Finally the group

8 Daykeepers may also be referred to as ajsamaj “s/he of work”. As being a daykeeper entails putting your

knowledge and abilities at the service of the community, practitioners are also known as ajpatan “s/he of the burden/responsibility”.

9 Other daysigns may occasionally be used for specific petitions, but the Q’anil sign is the default initial

symbol.

10 While some practitioners, particularly non-Maya, cut away tight bindings, most daykeepers advise

against the use of such shortcuts for “light”-side ceremonies. The work of undoing hardened, dried knots tied while the strands were wet and pliable is part of the offering, the sacrifice, the payment, the exchange

• f the participants.

11 Generally, the initial invocation is performed with all kneeling. Once the invocation is complete, there is

much variation as to position of both the prayer-maker of the moment, who may stand or kneel on one or both knees.

faces inward, focussing on the center. Prayermakers call upon the sky and the earth. A final kiss of the earth ends the invocation of the spirits of the six cardinal directions. These invocations are invitations, invitations to the banquet laid out in the fire circle. Sacred sites, altars, ancestral venues: Next a ritual specialist steps forward to invite the spirits of kindred altars to attend. Practitioners may name sites following spatial outlay spiraling in toward the center defined by the current altar, or they may retrace the ancestral migration routes, naming sites that their K’iche’, Kaqchikel and Tz’utujiil encountered as they came east from Tulan, south from Mexico, through the Verapaces, along the Caribbean coastal areas and up into the highlands. Archaeological sites, pre-contact settlements and polity capitals are often named along with the shrines associated with natural features when the latter strategy dictates the invocation of patrons

• f sacred spaces.

Family, ancestors, founders: Next the spirits of founding fathers, culture heroes, and family are invite to the banquet.12 Lighting the fire As the fire is lit, the daykeeper restates the reason for the ceremony, the cause of celebration, the needs/desires of the celebrants. This explanation may be quite elaborate, and, like most of the ritual speech, replete with couplets. Counting the days Next the count of the days begins. The count begins with day of the ceremony, the day bearer, sans coefficient. Each day is summoned in turn. The characteristics, purview, and domains of each day are elucidated and then the day is “counted”, invoked with the numerals 1-13. Nimaläj q’ij ajaw No’j: jun No’j, ka’i’ No’j, oxi’ No’j....... oxlajuj No’j Great day lord No’j (Thought): 1 Thought, 2 Thought, 3 Thought..... 13 Thought13 As each day is propitious for different requests, space is given during the initial invocation of the day for participants to make individual offerings imploring aid with problems, special boons, or acknowledging behests and commitments. Those born on the day being invoked make sacrifices when that day is summoned; even if they are themselves ritual specialists, they may ask a co-practitioner to pass the offerings (bundles

• f candles, cigars, herbs, and/or ocote) over their bodies14 before presenting this sacrifice

to the flames. The day count ends with a return to the day on which the ceremony is being done. Denoument From this point on the ceremony becomes for free form. Additional prayers and iterations of the purposes of the celebration, needs of the celebrants, and powers of the spirits/ancestors/places/daybearers invoked will evolve in response to the state of the

• ffering fire. The ceremony does not end until all the materials have been consumed.

Daykeepers will stir the fire at intervals to make sure that oxygen and the flames it feeds have reached all the offerings. The stirring is not a random swirling, but rather repeats

12 The set of ancestors and founders invoked may differ even holding the ethnicity of the ajq’ij constant.

Many are eclectic and draw from the traditions of various language groups. Some explicitly refer to colonial texts as sources; others use written lists of founders and culture heroes as mnemonics.

13 I will return to the significance of this count below. 14 More on this below, in the discussion of the human body as a microcosm of creation, a linguistic and

social metaphor.

the initial lay out of the planar cardinal points. A line is drawn through the fire from east to west, north to south. Sections of caramelized incense burning in blocks are then tilted, letting air sweep in below. The boundary circle is redrawn with the staff. At intervals throughout the ceremony, liquids, usually flammable ones, are poured on the flames. Communion with the spirits consuming the offerings is often enhanced by individual

• fferings of “shots” of liquor. Most practitioners offer liquor again to each of the

cardinal points, including those defining the vertical dimension, before inbibing their communal portion. The “shot” glass, itself communal, is passed around the circle, usually by an assistant who is responsible for seeing that each person in the circle receives a measure of alcohol to dedicate. As the fire dies down and no longer rekindles strongly upon stirring or alcohol- ing, the group again kneels. The lead ajq’ij recapitulates the days invoked, as well as renaming the spirits, locations, and cardinal directions invited to the banquet. As the last flame licks into smoke, all kiss the earth and stand. The holy invitees have been returned to their dimensions, but the celebrants and participants remain bound by the shared intentions that brought them together. All must greet each other. Each must thank the

• ther for the contribution of their mental and physical energies to this joint celebration.

Co-ajq’ija’ kiss each others’ hands in the general vicinity of the ring finger, or bring the right hand of their co-celebrant to their foreheads. Other participants hug, or clasp each

• ther’s elbow, linking forearms while touching or patting the shoulder. Once everyone

has greeted hir co-celebrants, the celebration becomes secular. The marimba plays more loudly; food and drink are shared. Small15 celebrations Laying out the altar If the celebrants have had to travel far, climb a mountain,

• r scale down a cliff face, the social involvement with the ritual has begun before arrival

at the site. Carrying boxes laden with incense, liquor, and offerings up steep and treacherous terrain is part of the process of sacrifice16. On arrival a site for the ritual must be chosen. Often more than one burn circle is available. At times, water flow through a cave, or down a stream bed will have left debris over the altar, requiring re- setting of “table” stones, or flattening of an offering surface. As we know, Mayan time is

• cyclical. With this ritual, we begin a new time and a new space, we recreate the cosmos,

but we do not do so ab ovo. Nonetheless, we make a new beginning. The spot is chosen for the inhering energies present there. The ajq’ij then lays out the Q’anil sign. Q’anil is the “seed”. Thus, it encompasses the potential to sprout, to grow, to bring into being. The association with Venus is still recognized (Cholb’al Q’ij 2008), and with it the cycle represented by its stations as morning star and evening star.17 When laid out on an active burn circle, the white of the sugary Q’anil glyph stands out as a striking symbol of the seed, the germination point for the sacred space being created, invoked and recreated. (Illustrations: 1.Q’anil sign, 2. offerings to be laid out; 3. offerings laid out)

15 There may be two or more celebrant in such ceremonies for individual petitions as well, but here I will

cite from the texts of prayers of single celebrant rituals. The sections of these ceremonies, as with the large co-celebrant ceremonies described above, are essentially the same however.

16 It should be noted that there may be much more preparation prior to the actual trek to the altar. This may

include abstinence (sexual, or other), bathing in solutions of seven herbs and light pine resin, and prayer.

17 It is unclear how widely the position of Venus in defining the 52 year cycle, homologous with the

meshing of the cholb’al q’ij (tzolkin) and the ab’ (haab) enters into modern ideology associated with Q’anil as the base sign for positive energy rituals.

The Q’anil sign is then filled in with incense in various forms. Candles are laid

• ver the incense or placed at the sides of the sign. Red candles are laid down first on the

east side of the altar. Black candles follow to the west, white to the north, and yellow to the south. Blue and green candles are placed in the middle. The candles represent the directions with which they are aligned. The four planar directions define and create two dimensional space. The blue of heaven and the green of the earth give us three dimensional space. Candles are followed and overlaid with food stuffs, often sweet

• bread. Chocolate in dark slabs is laid down, often along side blocks of panela, unrefined

brown sugar. Cigars or cigarettes are laid out in spoke patterns. Herbs may be sprinked

• ver the entire mound or used to edge the circle. Honey may be poured over the top.

Light pine may be added. Thus a “table” is laid that will entice the spirits. For “light”- side work, i is crucial that the offerings be pleasant to the eye, to the nose, and to the

• palate. It is assumed that the spirits share human tastes. In choosing these offerings

though, we are also creating the stuffs that humans need to survive, as well as linking them socially with the spirits that precede them, linking this time-space to previous time- spaces and creations. (Illustration: 4. the table set) Invocation The invocation then begins. The words of the chanted call recreate the physical lay-out of the altar. The directions are invoked in turn. The kissing of the earth that ends each “turn” binds both the participants and the energies summoned to the sacred space of the fire circle. Once the six cardinal points have been named and welcomed, physical space, three-dimensional space exists. This space created from

• fferings/sacrifice and words then is bound to the participants by locating it in historic
• space. The history of the people is brought into the circle through the invocation of sites

key to historic events, passages and habitations of peoples and polities. Social space and ties with ancestral spirits follow with the invocation of founding fathers (and occasionally mothers), culture heroes, and the family members of the participants. If the ajq’ij is working with a client whom s/he does not know well, s/he may ask that the client invoke the names of hir relatives, first those deceased, then those living but not present at the ceremony, or s/he may have asked for this information previously in written form, and then hirself invoke the participation of the appropriate ancestors. Thus, the invocation establishes the parameters of space, with the fire as a microcosm; it establishes the physical needs of people (and by extension spirits), food, drink, tobacco. It creates social lived space by tying history, events and peoples to places and then draws in the immediate social ties of the family. Lighting the fire As the fire is lighted, the ajq’ij begins the work of negotiating with the spirits who have answered the summons. Throughout the ceremony, ajq’ija’ use elaborate discourse forms; couplets and chiasmus abound. With regard to the creation of the cosmos, social space and the understandings thereof, it is instructive to look at a few of these couplets. The sacred is invoked through such kennings as Ruk’u’x kaj, ruk’u’x ulew heart of sky, heart of earth Ruk’u’x kaqiq’, ruk’u’x jöb’ heart of wind, heart of rain ruk’u’x sutz’, ruk’u’x moyew heart of cloud, heart of fog ruk’u’x q’ij, ruk’u’x ik heart of sun, heart of moon ruk’u’x juyu’, ruk’u’x taq’aj heart of mountain, heart of plain

ruk’u’x siwan, ruk’ux li’an heart of ravine, heart of flatland ruk’u’x ixim, ruk’u’x kinäq heart of corn, heart of beans ruk’u’x wäy, ruk’u’x uk’ya’ heart of tortilla, heart of beverage ruk’u’x q’aq’, ruk’u’x ya’ heart of fire, heart of water ruk’u’x q’ij, ruk’u’x aq’a’ heart of day, heart of night ruk’u’x säq, ruk’u’x q’equm heart of white(ness), heart of dark ruk’u’x ch’umil, ruk’u’x ch’ab’iq’aq’ heart of star, heart of comet ruk’u’x jöb’, ruk’u’x raxq’ab’ heart of rain, heart of dew ruk’u’x kow, ruk’u’x b’uyül heart of hard(ness), heart of softness ruk’u’x tew, ruk’u’x meq’enal heart of cold, heart of heat ruk’u’x saqb’öch, ruk’u’x tz’uj heart of hail, heart of droplet As with couplets in other genres (cf. Rodríguez 1995, Mudd 1980, Hull 2002, Knowlton 2002), these paired noun phrases sometimes define a dimension or domain through labeling polar opposites, sometimes by naming central members of a category. Daykeepers align the dimensions of the sacred space they create. While the description

• f the physical realm (celestial objects, hills and dales) predominates, qualities (light and

dark, cold/hot, hard/soft), and principal necessities of life (food and drink) may also enter in the litany that invokes and defines the sacred/social. Having established this sacred space, the daykeeper situates hirself and the client within the realm, again identifying each, by name and by daysign/nagual. The daykeeper then explains the reason for the ceremony: thanksgiving, curing, petitioning. The spirits defining space (six cardinal directions, culturally relevant sites and their rajawala’, natural features), those of physical properties and elements (heat, cold, fire, water), and those of the ancestors, all those invited to the feast of the fire, are enjoined to consider the prayers, the sincerity of the petitioners, and the necessities faced. Counting the days. Next time must be activated. As noted above, the days are not counted as they occur in the chronology. A “real time” count would run through the days successively, with each day augmenting by one numeral until reaching thirteen. For example, our session is scheduled for March 27: a count beginning on that date would run: 3 Tz’i’ , 4 B’atz’, 5 Ey, 6 Aj, 7 I’x, 8 Tz’ikin, 9 Ajmaq, 10 No’j, 11 Tijax, 12, Kawoq, 13 Ajpub’, 1 Imox, 2 Iq’, 3 Aq’ab’al, 4 K’at, 5 Kan, 6 Kamey, 7 Kej, 8 Q’anil, 9 Toj, 10 Tz’i’, 11 B’atz’, 12 Ey, 13 Aj......through 260 days. But we are not counting out the flow of time, we are setting up the structure of time, just as we have set up the structure of space, laying out three dimensions and the physical features of the world, earth and sky therein. Each day is called. The qualities of the day and the spheres of influence of each are explicated, installed within the realm of the ritual space. The day thus invoked and evoked is then counted out, creating the number of iterations this day will have/has once time is formed, meshed with space, and set into motion. The days are named in turn, starting with the day bearer of the ceremony. Though the coefficient may have been considered in setting a day for the ritual, when the count begins, it does not begin from the actual cholq’ij date, but with the (re)creation of the daybearer. Once the daybearer is called into existence, then the numbers are named to go with the day. Thus versions of the count are either enumeration (1 B’atz, 2 B’atz’, 3 B’atz’....) or elucidate the pairing of the number and the day (Jun chre ri B’atz’, Ka’i’ chre ri B’atz’.... “one for/of/to the (day) B’atz’, two for/of/to the (day) B’atz’”. As the days are called, incense,

usually cuilco18 , is offered to the daybearer through the fire. Other offerings may be made according to symbolic connections to the day and to its purview. Thus, once Ajmaq has been invoked, celebrants may offer cebo19 candles. In offering these candles, each celebrant recalls hir kin who are deceased. Their aid may be solicited, or their presence and their life gifts acknowledged. Kawoq is sacred to women. As the day Kawoq is evoked, one may offer pink candles and/or ixim pom20. Kej is associated with strength, with health, vitality. In counting Kej red candles and ixim pom may supplement the

• cuilco. Tz’ikin is associated with money, economic success, commerce. As Tz’ikin is

brought into the circle of being, sesame seeds are sprinkled into the fire by each celebrant in turn. B’atz’ “Howler Monkey” through a phonaesthetic link to the nearly homonymous21 b’ätz’ “thread” is often associated with “tangles” or “knotty problems”. The waxed threads, which passing through the wicks bound the candles together prior to the laying out of the altar, are saved to be given to the fire on the day B’atz’. Those seeking solutions to problems or needing to unravel a dilemma are invited to bind up their difficulties in these threads and then cast them in the fire, releasing the worries and tensions. As each day has a sphere of influence and is responsible for particular aspects of social life, petitions related to each domain in turn may accompany the entry of each daybearer into the count of days. These petitions need not coincide nor overlap with the principle reason for the ceremony but daykeeper will continue to focus and refocus the attention of the days, the celebrants, and the invoked spirits on the central aim of the rite. Once all twenty days have been called into being, with each assigned its number sequence from one to thirteen. The “count” of the days is complete. Time has been called into existence. The daybearers join the energies of physical space. Denouement As stated above, the offerings must be completely consumed. As the daykeepers stir the fire to insure oxygenation, they begin the process of releasing the energy summoned to hear the petitions and accept the sacrifice. They retrace the four quadrants

• f the earthly plane, drawing their staffs through the fire from east to west, north to south,

retracing the order in which the Q’anil sign was laid out and that of the invocation of the directional spirits. As the fire dies down, the celebrants return to their initial positions22,

• kneeling. The ajq’ij then thanks23 each spirit invoked for hir presence, for hearing the

petitions, for aiding the client(s). William Hanks (1990) noted that the Yucatec Maya ritual specialists carefully return each invoked sacred being to the appropriate space, both through linguistic pointers, deictics, and through gestures and body orientation. Highland practitioners as well carefully recognize the presence of all who have come to the fiery

18 This incense comes in small nearly dime-sized rounds. 19 Cebo is “lard”. These candles are made from lard and have no colorant added. These candles are

consumed completely by the flames, leaving no waxy residue. They symbolize the ancestors, deceased kinfolk and are used to evoke their presence, summon their attention.

20 Ixim pom “literally, corn pom” refers to copal resin in nearly granular form 21B’atz’ “howler monkey” and b’ätz’ “thread” are distinguished in the standard variants of Kaqchikel,

K’iche’ and Tz’utujiil, though many regional dialects have leveled the vocalic distinction.

22 There is tremendous variation within and among ceremonies. During some celebrants will walk or dance

around the fire, usually counterclockwise; the number of circuits may vary, generally 7, 9, or 13.

23 The daykeeper may also beg pardon for any sins of omission or commission during the ceremony. Some

daykeepers intersperse such apologies throughout the rite.

• banquet. They do not typically recount the days, though they may simply name the

daybearers in turn. Alternatively, they acknowledge the cholq’ij as a collective. They thank the ancestors, again by name. They recall the sacred sites whose rajawala’ were

• invoked. Finally they return to the cardinal directions. They do not “undo” the circle,

sending off the directions in reverse order, but move out from the created sacred space of the circle back to secular space in the same order, ending with the central axis, ruk’u’x kaj, ruk’u’x ulew “heart of sky, heart of earth”. Though the ceremony has ended, the celebrants must greet each other and thank each other, as they too were part of the previous creation, the creation of the sacred space/time that was invoked for the rite. The meal that follows is likewise a necessary part of affirming the social connection; it is also a communion. Traditionally, meals were eaten near the altar, with all food set out so that each person can partake of each viand. The celebrants have returned to normal space and time. The days again run sequentially; mountains, streams, fields and homes will no longer come to the fire center, but will have to be reached on foot, by car, bike or bus, “normal” means of transportation. Nonetheless, the position of the celebrants in the social web of interactions has been

• reaffirmed. After the ceremony’s end, the daykeeper may instruct the client, explaining

what the spirits and the fire have communicated to hir. The daykeeper will be able to report on whether or not the spirits have been successfully engaged to help the client as well as telling the client what further actions s/he needs to undertake. The human body, the cosmos writ small Time As mentioned above, in large ceremonies, or in small curing ceremonies, a person may be dedicated on hir birth daysign. If it is a curing ceremony, the “count” of the person may also be done on medicinally-involved days, Tijax, Kan and Kej. The body is counted much like the cholq’ij. “Twenty” comes from the digits, fingers and toes

• together. Most Mayan languages have a word for twenty that is close to, if not

homonymous with, person, winäq in Kaqchikel.24 The thirteen numerals are associated with the major “joints” of the body. These major joints are (1) neck; (2) left shoulder; (3) right shoulder; (4) left elbow; (5) right elbow; (6) left wrist; (7) right wrist; (8) left hip; (9) right hip, (10) left knee; (11) right knee; (12) left ankle; (13) right ankle. In curing each of these joints will be touched in turn, with sticks of light pines, or with a bundle of seven herbs or with a handful of candles. The cholq’ij can be played out on the human body. The knuckles of the hand provide an abacus for counting the days. If you count across the knuckles of one hand (counting knucklebones and the fleshy “valleys” between) from body-side outwards and back, you reach thirteen. Enumerating the days while doing this count will allow you to arrive at the correct day and number coefficient. Space It is often recognized that the “metaphor” of the body is extended to physical space (Friedrich 1969, Lehrer 1974, Hopkins 1996, Houston 1998). Mountain tops,

24 Other terms for “twenty” in Kaqchikel are k’al and may. K’al is used to count (relatively) inanimate

• bjects. Winäq is used to count people and units of time. May is used only in highly formal and/or ritual

contexts; it is also a formal register word for “tobacco”.

treetops, and roofs like heads are wi’aj25. Rounded knolls may be called jolomaj, again “head”. As in English, mountains have feet, raqän. Water running in streams or rivers is raqän ya’ “water’s leg”. A house likewise has raqän, in its halls and corridors. The corners are tz’ikaj “elbows.” The rooms or outhouses beside the house are its xikin26,

• ears. The interior of the house is the pamaj “stomach”, rupam jay “room, inside the

house”. Trees, in addition to the head, wi’aj, have a torso kutam, and arms “q’ab’aj”. The fruit of a tree is ruwäch che’ “its-face tree”, recalling the head of Jun Junajpu’. Whether or not it is the human body that provides the base for the metaphor, or simply that space is structured by these terms, morphed onto the various forms within it, landforms, human and animal bodies, or constructions, the homologies suggest a conceptual unity. Classic Maya representations of space are often interpreted as depicting three planes: a middle plane occupied by humans; a netherworld occupied by spirits of death and disease, such as Jun Kame and Wuqub’ Kame of the Popol Wuj; an overworld, the heavens, occupied by the Sun, Moon, and stars. Classic Maya rulers are often represented as the world tree, linking heaven and earth, and under-earth (cf. Friedel, Schele and Parker 1993, Estrada-Belli 2006). The K’iche’ of Chichicastenango regularly represent women as likewise serving as the world tree, the central axis, uniting the

• dimensions. The po’t “huipil, woven overblouse” of Chichicastenago traditionally

depicts the rays of the sun radiating out from the neck of the po’t, with stars along the shoulder lines, transitioning to lightning patterns in the middle field, and then to earth27. The woman, with her head emerging through the sun-ringed neck, embodies creation. The po’ts of other communities tell other stories, often recording and recalling local histories, but also literally interweaving the symbols of colors that define the six cardinal directions. As many men have adopted Western clothing, the woman has become the repository, conservator and symbol of Mayan cultural identity. She may wear and weave the cosmos, but all people map the physical and temporal dimensions with their bodies. The ajq’ij “s/he of the sun” The ajq’ij is responsible for serving the spiritual and physical needs of hir community, the people living there, those who have lived there before and the spirits in- dwelling there. An ajq’ij may double as a warinel, chajinel, tending one or more shrines/altars in the area. This civic and moral responsibility is referred to as a patan “burden”. It is symbolized by the physical burden of ritually powerful objects collected during the training for and practice of the office. In the above, I have outlined some of the actions of the ajq’ij in preparing for and performing a ritual. The ajq’ij is the conduit for communication between the client and the spiritual realm. S/he may meditate or divine to ascertain appropriate offerings for sacrifice, determine the day(s) of the ceremonies, and select an altar. Arriving at the site, s/he prepares hirself and the grounds for the act of creation, the bringing into being of a sacred realm where the dimensions

• meet. Once the ceremony begins the ajq’ij is constantly in contact with the spirits; prayer

25 Wi’aj is the unpossessed form of the noun. The stem is //wi’-//. In the possessed form it would have an

ergative prefix: nuwi’, awi’, ruwi’… “my head, your head, his head”. //wi-// may also mean “hair” or “appendage”; cf. ruwi’ q’ab’aj “finger(s)”, ruwi’ aqanaj “toe(s)”.

26 Absolutive (non-possessed) xikinaj. 27 The “earth” may be variously represented as volcanoes, fields, flowers or plants.

is a continuous litany, with cadences, vocabulary, couples and formal structures pleasing to the ears of the spirits. In conjointly celebrated rites, the “lead” voice may pass from

• ne ajq’ij to another, but once in conversation with the spirits an ajq’ij does not fall

silent, but continues in prayer, sotto voce. Energy is channeled through the ajq’ij. As the body is a microcosm, so the sensations of the ajq’ij’s body during the ceremony serve to communicate responses to the petitions as they are made explicit through the chants. A muscle twitch, a salient pulse, a running pain in a body part clarify problems and may lead to their solution. The ajq’ij, for the duration of the ceremony, creates a sacred space in which s/he links heaven, the social middle world, and the domains of the ancestral

• speakers. The creative heat of the ajq’ij is symbolized by the red of sashes and
• headcloths. The headwraps may be elaborately woven and embroidered su’t or they may

simply be bandanas or towels. Donning the su’t and sash mark the transition of the ajq’ij into the role of holy mediator. S/he is aj-q’ij “s/he of the sun/day” not simply because s/he can count the days forwards and backwards, but because s/he can connect the sun’s energy and the celestial sphere with the middle plane. The ajq’ij is also linked to the

• earth. In setting up the cardinal directs, the ajq’ij and the celebrants join themselves to

the earth and its creative power, kissing the ground. In invoking the ancestral spirits, from founding mothers and fathers through recently deceased kindred, the ajq’ij is pulling in the energy of those who are chaj chïk, poqolaj chïk. (Illustrations: 5. Maya cross 1 in wood, 6. Maya cross 2 in the body of the celebrant) The ajq’ij in doing the spiritual work of the ritual reinforces this binding of

• energies. Ritual is work, hence the alternative appellation of ajsamaj “s/he of work28”.

The ajq’ij mediates among the energies invoked; hir body is vulnerable to their interplay. Backlash from negative intentions, untruths, or “two-heartedness” may cause weakness, pain, illness or disease. The ajq’ij works to bring balance to the community and must live a balanced life in order to be able to work with all the forces brought into play in the creation of sacred space. I have known ajq’ija’ to give up secular jobs which brought them into conflict with co-workers. This is not to say that ajq’ija’ eschew all conflict. As community leaders, they are often spokespeople, taking onto themselves the responsibility for mediation that they also assume in ritual. The ajq’ij (re)presents in hirself the link of heaven, earth, and spiritual domain. The ajq’ij’s body, itself a microcosm of creation, serves as the conduit for communication and is at risk in ritual undertakings.29 Finally... While the symbols provided by the dress of the ajq’ij in full regalia, the

• fferings proffered (colored candles, incense, food, tobacco, alcohol, flowers, herbs), the

design of the initial sugar glyph, the forms of prayer, and the ritual of the fire are powerful metaphors for the (re)creation of the cosmos, the setting up of sacred space, the communication among the planes of existence, and the repositioning of celebrants in social networks, they are not what in fact creates the ceremony, nor the sacred space, nor the communication. Ajpub’ García Ixmata’ explains that what is essential is the open (not two-faced) heart and belief. On one’s knees with a pure heart and clear intention to commune with the spirits, one can create the channel that links the domains. One need

28 Cf. Yucatec Maya hmeen “doer, maker”. 29 As indigenous leaders, they were, of course, also at risk during the “violencia” in Guatemala.

Assassination of ajq’ija’ continued selectively in the first five years after the Peace Accords. The Prensa Libre of Guatemala ran small inset stories periodically, counting the eliminated ajq’ija’.

not light anything, burn anything, or consume anything. The offering, the sacrifice becomes the person and the act of devotion, the ceremony itself, the creation of the cosmos within the Mayan person, within the Mayan social sphere30. While Mayan ritual practice was repressed and in some areas continues to be repressed, categorized as witchcraft, superstition, or chicanery, the ranks of modern ajq’ija’ are swelling. Younger ajq’ija’ in the Kaqchikel area insist that Spanish loanwords have no place in this Mayan form of prayer; in response, many older ajq’ija’ are limiting their appeals to dios mundo and now refer to the poor as meb’a’i’ rather than

• pobres. Practitioners as young as 16 and 17 have client lists and regularly join their

elders in joint ceremonies. We can recognize some elements from pre-contact ritual depicted on stelae, pottery and in codices. The modern Kaqchikel, K’iche’ and Tz’utujiil rituals begin with a glyphic depiction of Q’anil, alone or paired with other daysign glyphs: that of the day of the ceremony, that of the altar, that of the client. The offerings include incense, foodstuffs (though bread typically replaces the tamales depicted in the codices), and

• tobacco. The cholq’ij days are counted. And the celebrant, like the world tree, takes on

the mediation of the over-under-middle worlds. The celebrations are not timeless or transcendant of space. The ajq’ij interacts with the spirits present at the altar, those of the deceased (including those of mythistory), and those of the clients. The action of sacrifice is rooted in the lived reality of the

• celebrants. The ajq’ija’ re-enact creation of space and time, working for balance in this

day and age, here and now. Wi k’o ta jun xinb’ij chi man ütz ta, If I said something that is not correct, takuyu’ tasacha’ numak. forgive, pardon me. Wi k’o jun xinb’ij ta chi nk’atzin, If I omitted something I should have said, takuyu’ tasacha’ numak. forgive, pardon me. Ruk’u’x sutz’, ruk’u’x moyew, Heart of clouds, heart of fog, Ruk’u’x jöb’, ruk’u’x raxq’ab’ Heart of rain, heart of dew, ruk’u’x k’aslemal, Heart of Life, matyox, maltyox Thank you, thank you

30 A question for many ajq’ija’ lately is the degree to which this devotion can spread beyond the host

• ethnicity. New Agers have become acolytes. While traditional ajq’ija’ are hoping that their practices will

mend community rifts caused by Christian sectarianism, they are often unsure of the sincerity of the new religious seekers and groupies. Some ajq’ija’ have trained non-Maya in the forms and practices of their spirituality, among these are some Guatemalan generals and the newly-elected president, Álvaro Colom. While some see this as tergiversation, others hope that these new practitioners will be re-formed by their

• wn interaction with the energies that come together in the fire of creation and sacrifice.

Appendix I. Pilgrimage altars Altar day patrons type Departamento Tz’ikin Ala’, Mirandilla, Miraldía, Miralvalle Tz’ikin Tijax Ajmaq mountain top escarpment rock arch boulder rock overhang Escuintla B’eleje’ Tz’i’ Tz’i’ escarpment, rock face Sololá Nimajay Tijax Toj Tz’ikin cave Sololá Chi Kaaqjaay Q’anil mountain top Sololá Ch’ajyu’ Tz’ikin cave, rock overhang Sololá Pixab’äj, María Tecún No’j Tz’ikin Ajmaq Q’anil Aj Tijax mountain top, rock face, escarpment, rock overhang mojón between Sololá and Quiché Pulch’ich’ Imox, Iq’, Aq’ab’al, K’at, Kan, Kamey, Kej, Q’anil, Toj, Tz’i’, B’atz’, Ey, Aj, I’x, Tz’ikin, Ajmaq, No’j, Tijax, Kawoq, Ajpub’ cliff face, rock prominence Sololá/Chimaltenango

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• f American Linguistics, Vol. 40, No. 2: 135-137

Rosemary Mudd (1979) Spanish Loan Words in Yucatec Maya Narrative Couplets. Papers in Mayan Linguistics, ed. Laura Martin: Columbia, Mo. Pakal B’alam Rodríguez Guaján (1992) Paretos en el discurso Kaqchikel. paper read at the Taller Lingüístico Maya,:Guatemala Ixcha’im Son Chonay (2000) Kaqchikel Awas. Tesis de Licenciatura, Universidad Mariano Gálvez: Guatemala.

Q’anil Kaqchikel 2004 set 1

Offerings Altar laid out

Maya cross – wood Maya cross – Ajpub’