ixchel manuscript

8/3/2019 IXCHEL Manuscript

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Notes on pronunciation

There are millions of Mayans alive today. The pronunciation has changed from

the old days somewhat because of the Spanish influence. However the Spanish

attempted to record the pronunciation of Mayan deities. English spellings of Spanish

words need to keep these rules in mind.

Spelling of Quetzalcoatl in English is the Spanish spelling. QUE is not like in

'question' but like in the Spanish "Que passa?" which sounds like "KAY PASSA".

(Actually it sounds close to "kuh passa" but let the scholars think they can speak it)

The conventions to convey phonetic sounds are these:

The accentuated syllable is capitalized.

A capitalized vowel is pronounced as the name of the letter so Kate is KAT and

cat is KaT.

If a letter or a group of letters is nearly silent (a schwa by international

phonetic conventions) or is silent then it or they are represented by a single quote '.

For example, the English word emphasized is rendered as eM Fa sIz'd.

The official pronunciation rules are these:

If there is no exception noted below, the pronunciation is as in Spanish.

The second last syllable is stressed usually.

X is pronounced like English SH.


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LL is pronounced like the L of Long.

TL counts as a single consonant, never as a full syllable. The consonant sounds

like the TL in FAINTLY without the e sound of the Y.

CU and UC are both pronounced KW as in KWIKLY (quickly).

HU and UH are both pronounced W as in WIN not WHEN.

H without an adjacent U represents a glottal stop (as in go_over); in modern

Nahuatl it sometimes has a sound similar to an English H and may have had that value

in some dialects of Classical Nahuatl as well. (For an English speaker, pronouncing the

H like an English H has the advantage that it helps one remember that it is there.)

U does not occur as an independent vowel.

Z is pronounced like English S.

Some common spelling variations include:

The letters U and O may be used interchangeably to represent the sound of

O.

The letter U alone may be used instead of UH or HU to represent the sound

of W.

The letter H representing the glottal stop may or may not be written.

Vowel length may or may not be marked.

The letters Y and I may be used interchangeably to represent the vowel I.

The letter I may be used for the consonant Y.

In this century American linguists working with modern Nahuatl have

sometimes preferred spellings that look less Spanish (and "coincidentally" more

English).


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Thus: W may be used in place of HU or UH for the sound of W. K may be used in

place of QU/C for the sound of K. S may be used in place of Z/C for the sound of S.

Cast of Main Characters:

Ixchel Esh CHEL

Ekchuah ek CHWa' her younger brother

Ah Kin ah KEN her father

Ix Chebel Yax esh CHE bel YASH her mother

Ixzaluoh ESH sal kwa her best friend

Xmucane SHMO kane her maternal grandmother

Colel Cab kol E kab her grandmothers acolyte

Chibirias chE birE as captain of the ball team

Ixtab ESH tahb captain of the rival pitz team

Chac CHaK head scribe for the king


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CHAPTER ONE

She opened her eyes, allowing the light of the predawn sun to slowly stab into her

consciousness. The clouds ranged from amber to scarlet, violet to sienna. They tracked

slowly across the sky, creating the shadowy figures of the Gods, her deep green eyes

followed them from behind thick black lashes. A deep crack of thunder shook the

pottery on the shelf, bringing her upright in a flurry of coverings. As her eyes scanned

the room in the pale light a bolt of lightning slashed across the sky, bathing the room in

a temporary wash of brilliance.

Her eyes caught a reflection in the polished metal disc hanging near the window.

It showed a young woman in her twenties, dark haired with dark eyes. Another sudden

crack of thunder rattled the shelving, making her jump. She thought she had heard her

name. Straining to hear, she struggled to untangle herself from the covers.

Ixchel.

Hah, she wasnt hearing things. As her feet hit the floor her eyes scanned the

ground and the room once again. Squinting in the dim light she grabbed her robe just

as she heard her mother again, Ixchel.

She grabbed the door and pushed as another bolt of lightning lit up the

passageway to the common room.

It was going to be quite the storm, one to please even her father. He had been so

distant and difficult lately. These bad rainstorms always seemed to cheer him up. Not

surprising, seeing as the storms were the cities only source of water. The water

reservoirs were low, the lowest she had ever seen.


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Na. She crossed the common area to kiss her mother on the cheek and

embraced her warmly. The smell of maize cakes dipped in chile chocolate sauce drifted

to her nose, making her stomach grumble. Her mother smiled and put two on a plate.

The cakes were warm and had a smooth but gravelly texture that melted in her mouth.

No wonder they were a favourite to offer the Gods. She jumped as the thunder cracked

again and reached for the water jug.

Na, is Tat here? I so wanted to speak to him today before the ceremonies begin.

She poured a mug of water, drinking as she turned. Her eyes wandered past her

mothers shoulder out the open doorway, watching as the colours of the sky once more

began to transform.

No, paal, Tat is not here. He has left early for the ceremonies. He has had much

on his mind and this thunderstorm had him up most of the night. We so need the rain.

Her mother continued to her work, making the chocolate for the cakes. She

leaned over the bubbling pot, fanning the aromas into her face with her hand. She

breathed deeply and turned to her daughter as she stirred the mixture.

What are you up to today, paal? Do you visit the Temple or Ballcourt? Her foot

poked at the embers in the hearth, causing a flame to lick the bottom of the pot.

Ixchel wiped her chin and grabbed the second cake, shoving it into her mouth

and eyeing the pot.

I think I will do both today, providing the skies co-operate.

She walked to the doorway and looked up at the angry skies. She silently

mouthed a prayer to the Gods and jumped when the lightning and thunder echoed

across the plaza. As she looked toward the centre of town, she saw the red of the city

temples, almost blood red as the bolts of lightning flashed.


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The thunder echoed as she thought how fitting a farewell for Sun Sky Rain. Yikin

Chan Kawiil had reigned for more than her lifetime and part of her younger brothers as

well. The ritual at the Temple of the Inscription today would be notable and she wanted

to be there to see it.

She turned to her mother, eyes sliding to the pot and watching as her mother

drizzled the chocolate, checking its consistency. Her mouth watered and she looked to

the empty plate. Disappointed, she wandered to the pantry and took a tortilla and rolled

it to stuff into her mouth. It was a poor substitution for the maize cakes.

She twirled a lock of dark hair in her fingers as she thought of her day. If she was

focused today, she may be able to secure the position on the ball team she so wanted.

She must convince Chibirias.

She drank a large mug of water to wash away the crumbs of the tortilla and wiped

her sleeve over her mouth. Standing, she gazed longingly at the pot and headed to her

room to dress.

Na, I am going to go to the Ballcourt first, before it gets busy after the

ceremonies. Please save me some cakes from Ek Chuah, he always gets them all and I

am still famished last nights sleep.

She disappeared down the passageway as the thunder followed, rumbling down

to the foundations.

#

Her eyes surveyed the dishevelled room, searching for her pitz attire. The

traditional ball game was as much a religious adventure as a physical test of endurance

and strength. She grabbed the jaguar skins from the end of her bed and headed to the


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window sill for the head, knee and elbow protection hung on a hook. They had dried out

and stiffened in the pre storm winds and needed to be made soft again. Her fingers

began to work the dried, stiff skin as she searched out the jar of fat she kept for the task.

I swear by Hukte Ahaw if my jar is in the room of my horrid younger brother I

will scream.

She strode into the passageway, voice rising in frustration down the passageway.

Na, I need my jar of fats to make these skins pliable. Ek Chuah has relieved me

of my possessions once again. He really needs to be taught to respect boundaries. I am

going into his chamber, though not of my own choosing.

She shoved her hip into the door and entered the chamber across from her own.

It was dark, being on the forested side of the house. It smelled dank, like mushrooms

and semi rotten vegetation. The doorway was ajar, allowing a chill breeze to enter the

room. Her nose wrinkled as her toe poked at a pile of something unrecognizable on the

floor.

Agh, how can anyone live like this? Honestly, never would a woman even.. her

voice trailed off as her eyes spied the jar.

Ah ha! I knew it. She grabbed the jar, leaving the room in a flurry of slamming

doors as she crossed the hall.

She sat on the bed, fingers rubbing furiously at the skin. She stopped and stuck

her fingers into the pot, grabbing a large wad of fat. She turned the skin over, examining

the underside as she applied a thin layer of fat to the surface. She was checking for

holes, tears and any other signs of damage. The skins were as much for ceremony and

symbolism as for protection in the game. They were very well looked after.


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Legs tucked under her as she worked, the sky slowly settled, its colours

brightening as the sun rose above its horizon. The day would prove to be a good. Her

plan to attend at the halaw first, before the festivities became crowded would be a good

one. She quickly glanced at the sun as it rose, estimating the time. She would have to

hurry.

#

She emerged a short time later, fully dressed for the game ahead. The jaguar

skins she had worked and softened were wrapped from her hips to under her arms. This

was secured with a strip of wide heavy leather, wound tightly to provide support and

protection. Attached to the front was her hacha, a small stone plate carved in the shape

of a howler monkey. Hides or yojuito were wrapped around her right shin, forearm and

elbow, secured with sinew. These were then covered with carved wooden plates for

additional protection and to hit the hard rubber ball. A triangle of jaguar skin wrapped

around her head in a kerchief style held back her long braided hair. Her face and body

were painted in reds and blacks, symbols of luck and strength painted around her thighs

and shoulders. Her face was a mask of terror, a skull in stark black and white paint.

Her neck plate was her mothers and she wore it proudly. It told the story of the women

in her family in the games, the glyphs colourful against the bronze of her skin.

As she entered the common area her eyes searched out the chocolate pot. No

reason she couldnt have a small snack. She was disappointed when she couldnt find

any cakes or chocolate. It seemed that her mother had finished her cooking and had left

for the match. She could see the suns rays were moving across the plaza. It was getting

late, she had best get moving.


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She exited through the main door out onto a terrace of limestone. The doorway

she had exited was adorned with a large mask done in deep relief, brightly painted. The

house sat atop a series of limestone terraces and had a central steep staircase.

The sun was bright, helping to evaporate the earlier showers, but adding to the

humidity. The air seemed to shimmer in the early morning heat. She walked down the

steep stairs to the plaza, passing the family garden and noting that some of the produce

should be gathered.

As she crossed the open plaza she gazed to her right. The central temple in the

line of seven was glinting in the sun. The brightly painted temples seemed to be alive in

the morning light. She headed to the front of the central temple, stopping in front of

the stela and alter to pray to Hukte Ahaw for a good game of pitz. She made a note to

bring a small cake to leave as offering to the Gods for a good match.

Rising she turned and continued north along the path through the plaza. It was

quiet for the morning and Ixchel was enjoying the sun on her face. Soon the heat would

be oppressive. She had been named after the Mayan Goddess of Sun and Moon and

had always felt close to those celestial bodies.

As she neared the halaw she could hear the crowd. She knew her mother was

here, but had no time to try and search her out. She headed into the doorway that led

under the sloped wall of the middle of the three ballcourts. Her eyes adjusted to the dim

interior as she grabbed a torch and headed deeper into the structure. She heard her

quarry before she saw her.

We will use the nine spans today. It is a day of great opportunity for us. The

competition is wary. Two on the team are injured. The gravely female voice resounded

against the limestone walls, echoing along the passageway.


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Chibirias, I wish to speak with you. Ixchel approached the taller woman. She

was heavier than Ixchel and half a head taller. She was an imposing figure in her pitz

attire. She had left the jaws and teeth of the jaguar skin on the animal that she wore on

her head. She too was covered in symbols of black and red. She also wore feathers in

her headgear, a symbol of her status on the team. She was the captain.

Yes Ixchel, I figured you would want to speak to me before the match began. I

shall allow you to play the position you wish, but be aware, one mistake and you will be

back at your old post. Play well. She turned her attention to the hard rubber ball that

someone had given her. She weighed it expertly, tossing it between her hands. It was 6

or 7 pounds, made of hard rubber and was about the size of a large honey melon. It was

heavier than what they usually played with, but it would do well.

Ixchel was surprised. She had expected to have to put up a good debate to be

allowed to play in the strike position of the team. Maybe her last few matches had

proven more than she thought. She had certainly been practicing. She wandered back

toward the doorway and outside.

The sun made her blink as she came outside. The crowd was settling into their

seats. Some were standing about, chatting with neighbours or making last minute

wagers. Her mother was nowhere in sight. She headed to the staging area with her

teammates.

The officials and referees were present and the ceremony began. Ixchel stood

with her head bowed as the chamach spoke. The elder had been doing this as long

Ixchel had been coming to the matches. It was a comfort to hear his voice. It helped her

to still her mind and to focus on the task ahead.


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The chamach ended his liturgy and the acolytes brought out the offerings. The

wild turkey was quiet, held tightly by his legs and around his body. His dark eyes darted

around the crowd, oblivious to his fate. The ceremonial knife was made of flint and

elaborately carved. It had taken the artist one full year to make and was kept in a cloth

covering. The fruits were ripe and luscious and made Ixchels mouth water and stomach

growl.

The young acolyte unwrapped the knife and held it high for the chamach to take.

It glinted in the sun as he wrapped his hand over the hilt. He spoke loud and clear, his

voice echoing along the walls of the ballcourt. He spoke to the God Hukte Ahaw and

asked for a victory over the Gods of the Underworld. He spoke the traditional Mayan

ritual, calm and confident. This was a time of uncertainty and today was a day of

ceremony. Ceremony brought peace and a sense of order to her people.

The prayer ended abruptly and the knife glinted in the sun. The neck of the bird

gave way easily under the razor sharp edge of the blade. The blood spurted onto the

ground, soaking into the dry earth immediately. The bird struggled and was released;

running around the court, blood spurting from its severed neck. The chamach

continued his liturgy, the bird finally falling to its death throes. The crowd took a

collective breath after the excitement and anticipation of the event. The Gods had been

appeased. The chamach and acolytes left the ballcourt and went to seats along the top of

the wall. Other spectators crowded into the end areas, closing off the court.

Removing her hacha and placing it on a mat at the end of the court, Ixchel started

to head to her position, stomach tightening in a small knot. Her hips were still bruised

from the last match and her stomach tender from getting hit with the heavy rubber ball.


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Some had broken bones and even fewer were killed when they were hit in the head with

the heavy projectile.

The court measured 15 paces by 50, with sloping sides. It was open at both ends.

These were the ceremonial courts, usually occupied by those with ritual matches or for

days like these, days of dedication. These were the only courts the women were allowed

to play on. This was also the only three court complex in the world. Ixchel was glad of

the honour to play here.

Her teammates were aligning themselves five paces from the imaginary line that

ran across half of the ballcourt. The other team was facing them, about five paces away,

also lined up across the court.

Ixchel headed to her usual position in the middle of the four players, but stopped

half way there. She realigned her step and settled into the outside position on the east

wall. This was the strike position. The stone ring set into the upper part of the sloped

wall was on her side. It was her job to get the ball through that stone ring.

The referee entered the court and bowed to the priest and nobles that lined the

top of the walls. He stood in the centre of the court, ball in hand. He raised the heavy

ball and yelled as he threw it onto the sloped wall beside Ixchel, then backed up quickly

out of the line of play.

Chibirias launched off her position on the far left and hit the ball with her hip,

sending it towards the other team. Ixchel waited for her opportunity, watching as the

ball was hit back and forth over an imaginary line on the court. The players were only

allowed to touch the ball with hips, abdomen, right elbow, forearm and right knee. The

head may also be used but was not recommended because of the weight of the ball.


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Chibirias lost her footing and was sent into the dirt, grazing her right shoulder.

Ixtab, the captain of the other team sneered and used her yojuito to send the ball back

over the line. Ixchel left her post and dove for the ball, having it hit on her left hip. The

force knocked the wind out of her and sent her sprawling onto the dirt. She scrambled

to her feet just as Ixtabs team hit the ball back. Izel was on her feet and hit the ball

again, grunting as she leapt up and forced her body forward to meet the ball.

Ixchel and her team mates volleyed the ball for some time before the opportunity

arose to score a goal. They used both the flat floor of the court and the sloping sides to

keep the ball in play. The game was fast and punishing. Bruises were already showing

on all the players.

Ixchels breath was laboured and her head was pounding from the oppressive

heat. Sweat covered her body, the fine dust masking the painted symbols she wore. She

wiped her eyes and adjusted her head wrap tighter. Chibirias looked at Ixchel and

nodded. She hit the ball onto the sloped side of the court, causing it to bounce and

ricochet. The other team just managed to return the volley, right towards Ixchel. This

was it, her chance!

She reacted quickly, running and launching herself forward and up, the muscles

in her legs shuddering at the strain. The ball hit on her hip as she turned. It arced onto

the sloped wall. She had aimed for a particular spot in the wall marked by a flaw in the

plaster. The ball hit and ricocheted, but missed the centre of the ring and hit the outside

edge. It bounced three times and rolled down the slope to the dirt floor. The ball was

considered out of play. They had lost.

Bent over, gasping for breath, Ixchel was stunned. That play had never failed

before. She stood up, rubbing her rapidly bruising hips and adjusted her yoke. She


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reached her hacha, and attached it for the final ceremony. Her heart was heavy as she

returned to her original position on the court. She barely looked at her team mates.

The chamach returned to the ballcourt, but without the acolytes. There would be

no offerings now, they were contrite.

Because they were women playing for a pre-dedication ceremony, there would be

no further consequences to them. Had they been men and the game of a more serious

nature, someone would be losing their head, and the losing team would be giving many

hours of service to her city.

To loose in the game of pitz was shameful. It was best to win. The captain of the

winning team could sometimes be called on to lose his head. This honour was a great

one. Ones head and blood being the holiest of sacrifices one could give to the Gods.

In the case of Chibirias and her team, the shame of loss was enough. Ixchel knew

her brother would never let her forget this. She also knew it would be some time before

she was allowed to play the striker position again. She glanced at Chibirias and lowered

her head as she listened to the chamach.

As she listened to him talk of loss and new beginnings, her mind wandered to the

day ahead. The dedication would be exciting. Seeing her grandmother was always a

treat. The royal household would all be out at the ceremony.

She realized the chamach was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Her

attentions were wandering again. She must focus!

She stepped forward and dropped to one knee instinctively when she heard her

name called aloud. The chamach waved over her head and spoke of loss and trials and

hard times. She stared at the dirt, trying to focus on his teachings. He spoke of learning

and her eyes darted to his face. Learning? What would she be learning? She was of a


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noble house and all her learning was involved in female household issues. Was he

speaking of the Gods?

She tried to see into his eyes, underneath the elaborate bird mask and head dress

of feathers that he wore. His eyes were dark and unreadable. As he reached out and

touched her head, she tried to will her thoughts to him. What would she learn? She

must try to speak with him later on. Maybe after the dediction ceremony.

She raised herself to stand and her eyes searched the crowd for a familiar face.

She saw her mother and noted the same expression of surprise on her face that Ixchel

had just had. Obviously it wasnt just Ixchel that had questions.

She nodded slightly to her mother and indicted for her to meet at the ballcourts

south end. Ixchel stepped back to her position on the ballcourt and continued to listen

to the ceremony. Chibirias fidgeted, scuffing a foot in the dirt as it continued.

Sometimes these things could be so long and drawn out. The ceremony ended and the

spectators all rose and began to walk down the sloped walls and disperse onto the plaza.

Ixchel decided to forego talking to Chibirias. That conversation could wait till the

sting of losing the match wore off. She saw her mother and headed to meet her.

#

Na, Im sorry I did so poorly at pitz today. My mind was elsewhere. Though I

have always seen that play work. She hugged her mother as she spoke. Her mother

always smelled of jasmine, a scent that would always mean safety to Ixchel.

As they walked across the plaza in the sunlight, Ixchel watched her mother. She

was tall for a Mayan, almost 14 hands. Her long dark hair was intricately braided and

wound artfully around her head. Bright green feathers and beads decorated the braid


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and fell around her head and shoulders. Strands of shimmering metal fell down her

forehead ending in drops of jade just above her eyebrows. Her earlobes were pierced

with large pieces of bone, set with jade and obsidian. A thin chain ran from the

earpieces to her nose. Her dark eyes were outlined heavily in charcoal, bringing their

green to a shining emerald. Her neck plate was of bone, pottery and jade, decorated

with Mayan hieroglyphs depicting a mythological story. Her wrap of green forest shades

covered her chest and hips, falling in folds to just below her knees. Her skin was

bronzed from the sun. She wore thick, elaborately carved bracelets on her wrists and

ankles. Her feet covered with sandals that laced around her ankles. Ix Chebel Yax was

every inch a noble. It showed in how she walked and spoke. Soft spoken, Ixchel had

never heard her mother raise her voice. She had no brothers and sisters and received

the best of education and attention as a child. As a noble she was well educated in

writing, religion and politics, even as a woman. Ixchels father adored her, and she

understood why.

Sometimes paal, we are destined to lose to learn humility and other lessons. Do

not judge so quickly the decisions of the Gods. The fates watch over us all, guiding us if

we listen well. She smiled and reached out to stroke Ixchels face. I am sure Chibirias

understands and will allow you another chance at the striker position. Give her some

time.

Yes, I suppose you are right.

Ixchels eyes widened as she stopped and looked at her mother. Oh, did you

hear what the chamach said Na? That I will learn. Whatever do you think he meant?


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She stopped and faced her mother, eyes searching for an answer. Surely he had

already spoken with her parents about this? Her mother smiled but only shrugged her

shoulders and continued to walk, taking Ixchels arm.

I told you paal, no one knows the minds of the Gods. Do not be bothering your

Tat with this either. He has much on his mind lately. I am sure the answers you seek

will come soon.

Ixchel sighed heavily. It wasnt exactly the answer she was looking for, but she

knew it was all she would get from her mother. She sighed and looked around the

bustling plaza.

The sun shone brightly through the trees that dotted the plaza, providing much

needed relief from the heat. They were walking south from the triple ballcourts toward

their home. The white stucco floor of the plaza stretched 100 paces by 35 paces. On the

left were the seven temples Ixchel had stopped at on the way to the halaw. They were

busier now, with people leaving offerings and stopping to pray at the altar and stelae in

front of the central temple. They were very plain compared to most in the city that had

been moved to the central acropolis. The temples were raised above the plaza floor,

built on a natural berm.

The central temple had a staircase and doorway to enter the building set atop

three layers of limestone, creating a pyramid. The doorway was covered with a thatch

overhang to protect the entranceway. The deep animal reliefs carved into the limestone

and stucco were brilliantly painted with the colours of the birds of the forest. Blues,

greens, yellows, brilliant oranges and reds told of the earth and of the Gods. The

hieroglyphs included both animals and people. Large reliefs of skulls and crossbones


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adorned the rear walls of the temple. There were bright masks along the edge of the

base of the roof comb, watching all who entered.

The smaller temples had no doorways and were open to the elements. They were

the height of a person off the ground, sitting on a platform of limestone. They had

curved roofs that overhung their inscriptions. They resembled large niches. Their

hieroglyphs were very brightly painted and told of mythology centuries old.

Directly across from the temples the plaza was enclosed by the astronomy school.

The building sat atop layers of limestone terraces and was accessible by a central

staircase. The structure had five doors between front and back that led into vaulted

corridors. The corridors ended in a complex of rooms and administrative areas. The

central staircase led to the upper floor, open to the elements. The front of the building

faced the plaza immediately to the west. The cream walls and red cornices of the

building glinted brightly in the morning sun. Giant masks were deeply carved into the

walls of the building, doorways the mouths of the masks. They seemed to follow one

with their eyes. The corners of the building had smaller masks carved into them that

seemed to float at the edge of the building, adding to the mystique of the structure. The

painted friezes and artwork on the walls of the structure told the story of the creation;

the Popol Vuh. People were gathered in front of the building and moving in and out of

its doorways.

As they neared the southern end of the plaza, the nobles palaces came into view.

Her home sat atop a series of five limestone terraces. Her home was the middle of the

three south palaces. The building had a roof comb, painted cream and decorated with

colourful masks. The structure was cream, with a red frieze at the roof comb that was

heavily carved. The steep stairs were white, to match to the floor of the plaza.


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The masks on the roof comb showed birds, people and feathers. Some of the

masks wore neckplates and necklaces. One resembled the one she wore today.

The two westernmost doors of the house were open, allowing the slight breeze to

blow through. Servants were collecting chiles and grinding corn to make tortillas. The

squash would be ready soon as well.

We will need to make a trip to market for salt and beans. They will be ready this

afternoon after the ceremony. Please remember Ixchel, I hate going there by myself. It

is so much for just me to carry home alone. Her mother patted her arm and headed off

to speak to the cook about the evening meal.

Yes Na, I will be here to help. She mumbled as her mother strode away. She

looked around and headed up the steep central stairway into the central door of the

house.

#

The breeze had helped to cool the house a little. The smell of chocolate still hung

in the air as she entered the central room of the house. The ceiling was stucco and lower

at both ends and higher in the middle. There was a small table with four chairs and a

hearth to cook at. There were thick woven rugs and low seats to sit on scattered around

the room. Hieroglyphs and artwork depicting hunting scenes decorated the walls.

Animal fat burned in holders attached to the walls or in pots set on tables.

The door at the back of the large room was open, allowing the breeze to come in.

It opened to the terraces and the back patio. A favourite place to sit in the afternoon of

the day, it was usually shaded. This was usually where the howler monkeys were,

waiting for the cook to hand out the leftovers.


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At the bottom of the back central staircase another small garden grew squash,

chiles and corralled a small tapir, still not large enough to feed the household. There

were a few wild turkeys wandering about. The tom was watching over his harem of

females, tail splayed out behind his head in a fury of browns and creams.

Ixchel turned to her left and entered a small doorway. The corridor was dark.

Her door was on the left, her brothers opposite. She banged a fist on his door and

hollered into the doorway.

Ek Chuah, are you here? You owe me some animal fat, and I am sure more. I

just didnt find out what yet. She kicked the door with her foot and banged again,

harder.

Ek Chuah!

She turned on her heel and stormed into her room. She slammed the door in

frustration and crossed the room to open her window. It wasnt really a window, it was

a door she had cut in two sections across the middle, making it open at top and bottom

separately. She had then secured the bottom piece permanently. She now had a

window onto the plaza, a very peaceful spot in the late evening or early morning before

sunrise.

She headed to her chest on the floor against the wall. It held her skirts, wraps,

headdresses and pitz uniform. She took out clothes for the ceremony at the Temple of

the Inscriptions. She chose turquoise, her favourite colour. She sat at a chair and

checked her headdress for damage to the feathers, replacing them as necessary.

Occasionally she glanced out the window at the plaza, watching it come to life.

They were making more stucco for the central temple. The bright red dust added

to the paint made the temples stand out in the days shadows and come alive. They were


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very impressive as they were meant to be. The seven in this plaza were unique and not

very old. The ones in the central acropolis and other parts of the city were centuries

older. This plaza was large; one of the largest in the city, but it had been kept quiet and

tranquil. Bird watching was a favourite pastime in the plaza and there was an

abundance of them.

The plazas white stucco covered limestone floor was sloped slightly, allowing

runoff to flow into the water reservoir to the northwest. All the plaza floors were built

like this. Water management was critical in the city.

The city was built in an area that was swampy and wet, the lowlands. It provided

rich soil to grow. There were plenty of fields outside of the centre of the city that

provided corn, beans and other produce. The outlying fields were essential to feeding

the large population, even with family gardens.

The water reservoirs that dotted the city as well as the rivers that ran under the

stuccoed causeways provided a much needed way to manage the water in the rainy

climate. The agricultural irrigation system was excellent.

The land also provided limestone. The entire city was built on beds of limestone.

It was soft to quarry and easily carved with stone tools. The quarried limestone trenches

within the city also provided foundations for the stuccoed causeways that were built.

Trade and travel routes in and around the city relied on these causeways, as did water

management.

The monuments and temples built in the city were usually completed in a short

amount of time, within five years. Every individual who reached a certain age was

required to provide the king with a certain amount of service, usually three years. The

captives of war were also subject to this service. So were slaves. It was an efficient way


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to build, using the resources of the people to build the city. Slaves and prisoners of war

could achieve freedom after their service by farming an unoccupied plot of land. The

city grew rapidly as a result.

It was not unusual to see work going on somewhere in the city. How exciting to

be able to look out her window and see the new bright red temples, their roof combs of

cream glinting brightly in the morning sun, covered with masks and hieroglyphs telling

glorious stories.

She finished her repairs and began removing her pitz attire, placing it on hooks

on the wall to catch the air and help them to dry. She went to the low table and took a

large heavily decorated bowl from under it. Placing the bowl on the table, she filled it

from a jug of water on the floor beside the table. The water was cool, having been drawn

by her servant while she and her mother were returning from the courts.

She washed her face, arms and legs, removing the grime of the courts and

enjoying the coolness of the water. The day was turning into a humid, hot one. She

wrung out the cloth and dipped it again into the bowl. Washing her stomach and back,

permanent tattoos became visible as the temporary ones for the ceremony washed off

with the grime.

One was across her shoulders, a straight thick line. The other was a lightning bolt

shape down the centre of her back to her waist. Two large round dots, one on each hip

were misshapen from the black bruises over them from the pitz match.

She finished and dumped the bowl out the window, placing it back under the

table. She reached for her jewellery, turning and standing in front of the polished metal

mirror. She put a single tube of jade through each earlobe. These were attached to a

finely braided rope attached to a single carved jade bone that pierced the centre of her


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nose. She had these piercings all her life. They were a sign of womanhood and

considered very attractive. The jade did accent her dark green eyes nicely.

She began to dress, putting on clean sandals. They were plain, a thick

strap covering the front of the foot and laces from the back anchored to the sole and

wrapped around the ankle. Around her ankles she added stone chains made from small

balls of jade.

Her wrap started just under her arms and fell to her ankles, more formal than the

shorter ones usually worn in the day. It was adorned with beads on the hem and around

the top. Her necklace was heavy and was made from jade and teal coloured beads,

delicately carved. It was tight against her neck and fell to just past her collarbone. She

added extra bones to the ones in her earlobes and a chain that attached to her necklace

from her ears.

She put thick teal bracelets made of carved wood on her biceps and wrists then

turned to the mirror and added heavy charcoal to the outside of her eyes. Finally she

put a single jade sliver through the skin under the centre of her lower lip.

She set to work braiding her long dark hair and worked quickly. She soon had a

number of thick black braids. Her headdress was made of wood and carved bone. It

curved low down her forehead ending at a point on the bridge of her nose. The feathers

that adorned the top and sides were from wild turkey, died teal and blue. Elaborate

artwork decorated the bone around her head that formed the base of the headdress.

Pieces of jade and obsidian decorated the top, making a base for the hundreds of

feathers that sprang out the top.

She placed the headdress, adjusting the braids to sit comfortably under it. She

pulled the braids through sections of the crown that had holes for the purpose. She


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wound the braids through the holes and around her head, securing the piece. She

moved her head, checking the attachments and made a few adjustments.

There, that should hold for the ceremony. She surveyed herself in the mirror,

satisfied with the result. She grabbed her bottle of jasmine water, sprinkled herself and

headed for the door.

#

The thunderstorm of earlier was adding to the humidity of the day. The air was

becoming oppressive as the sun rose higher in the late morning sky. The sun was bright

as Ixchel exited the house and headed north through the plaza.

She walked out the far end of the pitz court she had played on earlier and headed

northeast. She followed the path through the forest, approaching two reservoirs. The

northernmost was the smaller of the two and the one that her plaza drained into. The

other was much larger, almost three times the size, and sat directly south of the complex

that was her destination.

As she walked through the thick forest she heard the parrots and toucans talking

amongst themselves. They were punctuated by the occasional howl from a monkey or

screech of a falcon. The trees, tropical cedar, Honduran mahogany and the sacred giant

kapok tree were tall and green. They provided a respite of relief from the scorching sun.

She could hear water running into the reservoir as she approached.

Out of the dense jungle green a large, haphazard building of cream stucco with

red friezes and colourful, painted walls emerged. Some of the sections of the structure

were one story, with small roof combs. They sat atop small knolls and had steep temple

steps. These were beside low structures with many doors and colourful walls. Other

buildings had terraces and patios and were two or three levels high. Some even had


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rooms under the terraces. The colours were as bright as the birds in the surrounding

forest. The artwork on the walls told of feasts and gatherings. There were stories of

nobles giving offerings and the king and his many duties. The colourful masks that

decorated the corners and doorways of the buildings were in the Mayan tradition. Faces

of protection, happiness and good fortune, animals and people all carved deep into the

limestone, then covered with stucco and painted brightly.

This was the colourful, noisy type of community Ixchel wished she lived in. She

enjoyed the solitude of her plaza court, but the hustle and bustle of this place was

intoxicating to her! She breathed in deeply, catching the odours of the mid-day.

Tortillas, maze cakes, turkey on a spit and squash all hit her nose at once. Her stomach

growled reminding her she still had not eaten since her cakes this morning.

She picked up her pace along the path and entered the south western end of the

complex. She headed across a small open court surrounded by a small temple and the

new palace of the old kings son, Yax Nuun Ayiin II. He would take the throne in time,

once he was old enough, a few years maybe. His new home was still being built. It was

two levels and had three doors. It was covered with masks and deep carved reliefs that

were still in their plain stucco state. They would be impressive once painted. Artists

were painstakingly carving and painting the walls, making them seem to come to life.

They had carved reliefs of Yax Nuun Ayiin II on the walls in various stages of war and

sacrificial ceremonies. He had many enemies who cowered at his feet.

The small courtyard was full of people. Some were just speaking with neighbours

or watching children play. There were women cooking on small fire pits on patios and

terraces. The temple had a few giving offerings, but mostly the mid-day meal was the

focus of the courtyard. The smells propelled Ixchel toward a small, brightly painted


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house in the far northwest corner. It was two stories and had a small terrace on the

southern end of the upper floor that provided a panoramic view of the courtyard. The

house also gave an excellent view of the twin temples of Jasaw Chan Kawiil and his wife

Kalajuun UneMo and the grand plaza and ceremonial ball court to the north. Like the

other temples in the city, they were bright red in the sun, their roof combs brilliant as

they towered over the plaza.

Ixchel headed into the house through a doorway surrounded by a large mask

deeply carved into the wall, glaring on those who entered as if they held a secret. It

always made Ixchel shudder and she hurried into the cool interior of the house.

She was immediately hit with the smells of the family meal. She entered a large

room with a central firepit that was blazing with a spit of tapir. It sizzled and popped as

the juices ran onto the flames. There was a pot bubbling on another small firepit against

a wall. She could smell beans and chiles in the pot, along with garlic and maybe

oregano. Chayote fruit and green shoots were in a large bowl in the centre of a large

table. There was a special pot on a stone altar carved into the north wall. The smell of

chocolate, chilli peppers, cornmeal and honey drifted under Ixchels nose as she grabbed

a chair at the large table. The hot drink was called xocolatl and was special to those of

wealth and nobility.

As she looked around the room she saw the cook with the large pot of maize being

boiled. It was then dried and crushed into flour then cooked on a comal to make

tortillas. Her friends mother was busy making tamales, tortillas stuffed with mashed

sweet potato and spices and wrapped in cornhusk and then steamed. Her best friend

entered the room from the far doorway. She waved a fork and looked for a plate as the

servants began putting trays of food on the table.


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Ixzaluoh was named for the Goddess of Water and Weaving. She had dark hair to

her waist and eyes the colour of the palace reservoir, deep and blue. Her small nose was

slightly upturned, giving her an elfish look. She was always sunburned across her nose

and had a smattering of freckles. She was short but had a small waist and long legs for

her height. Her arms were toned and her shoulders showed her strength. She had four

brothers and two sisters and had to fend for herself and had learned to defend herself as

well. She was quick to smile and tried not to act her noble role.

So, are you ready to go to the ceremony? She reached for a plate and shovelled

the greens onto a plate and began to eat.

Of course, I have on my good outfit. Didnt you notice? Ixchel looked to her

friend, eyebrow raised. She turned her head and modelled her braiding job.

Lovely, just lovely Ixzaluoh smiled and nodded her approval. She patted her

own hair with her hand and turned to show Ixchel her accomplishment.

She had left her long hair straight and had added a large headdress, covered with

feathers from many birds. There were long ones and short ones, ones of green and

yellow mostly, some red and a few white. They were arranged out of a headdress made

of wood and bone and carved delicately into a wreath painted with figures of offerings

and ceremony. It was gold and yellow and green in colour and showed off her colouring

perfectly. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in a flat sheet of obsidian.

Her ears were pierced with large coral hoops and connected to a chain that ran to

a piercing at the centre of her lower lip. She also had a pierce at the base of her throat, a

single hoop of ivory through the skin. Her shoulders were covered with scars in the

shape of lines and circles. These reflected her status. These were now traced in black

charcoal to darken them.


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Her neckplate was small but gold and turquoise made it heavy. The stones were

arranged around plates that showed a story of ceremony and offering to the old kings

father. It had been her mothers and she wore it proudly on special occasions. Her wrap

was the same length as Ixchels and blue in colour. It matched her eyes and they stood

out almost as much as the gold and turquoise of the neckplate. Her sandals were plain

like Ixchels but she had stones of blue at her anklets.

Oh, I so love your feathers. I see youre wearing your mothers piece, its so

beautiful. Maybe you will attract someone special. Ixchel took a bit of greens and

smirked. She knew he would be there, so did Ixzaluoh.

Ixzaluoh sputtered and glared at Ixchel then her eyes darted to her mother to see

if she had heard the comment. It was obvious from her smile that she had.

Oh, how can you say that? He is disgusting. Vulgar. He has no couth and is

loud. I do not care if he is there, I will not speak with him. She speared a piece of tapir

as it was put on the table by the cook. Her mother came to the table with a plate of

tamales and sat down. She handed one to Ixchel then her daughter and smiled.

You should be careful what you say Ixzaluoh, Ixchel is right, maybe you will

attract someone. Your Tat is convinced you will never marry. He is ready to declare you

to the Gods for service to them. She focused on her plate, ignoring the glaring stare

from her daughter.

Ixchel snickered to herself and ate her food quickly. They would have to leave

soon to get a good place at the temple. She wanted to be inside for the ceremony. She

finished her plate and grabbed a maize cake for the walk.

Come on, I dont want to miss the procession. You can eat on the walk. She

grabbed another cake and tossed it to her friend as she stood. Ixzaluoh kissed her


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mother on the cheek and she and Ixchel headed out the northern door of the house onto

the busy Grand Plaza.

#

To alter in front of Temple II (Temple of the Masks) for Lady Kalajuun Une' Mo',

Past ceremonial ballcourt and Temple I (Temple of the Great Jaguar) tomb for

Jasaw Chan K'awiil on south side, note central acropolis structure facing Temple I

structure 5D-120

Note jaguar clan family home at eastern end of central acropolis

Past east plaza ballcourt and radial temple near ballcourt

Past east plaza market and onto causeway

Past Group G on causeway

Causeway to Temple VI (Temple of the Inscriptions)

www.mayaruins.com for excellent pics of above structures.

ixchel manuscript

Documents