This month, I had the opportunity
to visit the ancient Mayan city of Tulum ,
located on the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico ,
and situated on a bluff facing the Caribbean Sea
to the east. (Some scholars believe that
the city was originally named “Zama”, meaning “City of Dawn ”: a reference to its facing the
sunrise.) This was apparently one of the
last major cities built by the Mayans, and it thrived sometime around the 14th
century AD. While it never succumbed to
direct invasion by the Spanish explorers who came into contact with the Mayan
civilization, it appears that the city’s decline was brought about indirectly
from this contact, as its inhabitants became exposed to diseases introduced by
these explorers for which the natives had no natural immunity. It was a fate common to many indigenous
peoples of Central and South America after the
arrival of the Spaniards and other Europeans.
Tulum was actually built after the Mayan civilization had entered into
decline (which had already been in progress for centuries before the arrival of
the Spaniards), and was a sort of satellite city-state, preserving a remnant of
the greatness that had preceded it.
Tulum was a walled city, and while
these walls certainly must have been used to protect it from invasion, they
were also used – according to our tour guide – to segregate the upper echelons
of Mayan society (mainly priests and political leaders) from the more general
population. In that respect, it was probably
similar to a contemporary American “gated community”, where the more privileged
classes can enjoy a pleasant life in suburbia without any threat of disturbance
by the less fortunate. The elite classes had always been a drain on the resources of the Mayans, and their proliferation, along with their growing appetite for wealth, were probably a factor in their civilization's decline. In the words of archaeologist Arthur Demarest: "Society had evolved too many elites, all demanding exotic baubles . . . all needed quetzal feathers, jade, obsidian, fine chert, and animal furs. Nobility is expensive, non-productive and parasitic, siphoning away too much of society's energy to satisfy its frivolous cravings." Tulum, in its
heyday, housed between 600 and 1600 inhabitants.
Of course, there are only ruins on the site now – relics of a vanished civilization. But even these relics vividly display the grandeur and magnificence of that civilization. Three structures in particular attract the modern visitor’s attention. First there is the Pyramid el Castillo (the Castle), which among its various uses might have served as a lighthouse for incoming canoes. Tulum was a center of trade, and El Castillo’s location directly across from a break in the barrier reef that lines the nearby shore would have been ideal for signaling a safe landing site for incoming seafaring traders. As pyramids go, El Castillo is relatively diminutive in size, but is still an impressive presence for the visitor standing at its base.
To the left of El Castillo, facing east, is the
The Temple of the Frescoes, which is located
directly in front of El Castillo, has, as its name indicates, a number of
interesting frescoes painted on its walls.
Images of snakes abound here as well, along with representations of
Chaac, the rain god, and Ixchel, goddess of women, the moon, weaving, and
medicine. The temple’s main function,
however, was as an observatory, tracking the movements of the sun. As our tour guide explained to us, time – and
its periodicity – was central to the Mayans, and time for them was a cyclical
rather than a linear phenomenon. As
their observations of recurring astronomical phenomena grew in sophistication,
their architecture evolved in lockstep with their knowledge, and provided
enduring, physical structures by which they could mark and predict the regular
changes seen in the day and night skies.
And so with this blog entry I come,
as it were, full circle. When I began
this blog, on December 21, 2012, it was at a time when there was a bit of a
media frenzy over claims by many that the ancient Mayan calendar, which was
coming to the end of its 5,100 year “Long Count” cycle, was predicting the end
of the world on that date. I started the
blog then as a sort of tongue-in-cheek acknowledgment of this claim, stating
that if there was ever a good time to leave something for posterity, then this
might be it. But my larger intent was to
use this as a touchstone for addressing a question that we – at least as a
society – rarely think about: What would
we like to leave for posterity for others to ponder, after our civilization has
passed away? What enduring lessons would
we like to leave behind for the benefit of others? This blog was named for the “Emerald Tablet”,
a legendary engraving which many claim to be just such an enduring relic:
preserving, in its enigmatic verses, wisdom from a bygone civilization.
The occasion of my trip to the Yucatan Peninsula this month actually
corresponded to a bit of personal marking of cyclical time: my birthday. And as I walked among the ruins and relics of
the Mayans, my thoughts turned again to this idea of what will – and should –
be left behind after we are gone. While
there is much to admire in the visible record of the Mayan achievement, it also
displays their shortcomings as well: their belief in a rather naïve cosmology
populated with numerous gods and goddesses, their equally naïve belief in a
flat, four-cornered earth, and their barbaric practice of periodic human
sacrifice, to physically recompense their cosmic benefactors for what nature
had bestowed upon them. Will our own
ruins and relics display, to some future civilization (or even species), the
follies of our own misguided beliefs and practices, along with our impressive
technical achievements?
This blog really has been my own,
personal, “emerald tablet”. Over the
past two-and-a-half years, I have had the opportunity to share many if not most
of what I have felt to be the most important or enduring insights that have
come to me during my lifetime, as well as some of my personal missteps in
searching for the meaning of life. I am
sure that, as with the beliefs of the Mayans, some of even my most cherished
beliefs will not stand the test of time, perhaps not even in my own lifetime. But, regardless of their ultimate worth, I am
grateful for having had the opportunity to share them, and hope that to the
reader they have been a source of at least passing interest or entertainment.
Of the twenty-eight entries that I
have written, four have gone “viral” – to use the lingo of the internet – in that
they seemed to have attracted a very wide readership far beyond my circle of
friends, family, and colleagues. These
are, in order of popularity:
·
“Thoughts on the Future of the Electricity Industry”
(May 2014) – the transcript of a speech I made about the challenges that the
electric industry is currently facing: that this was the most popular entry of
all is ironic, since this one probably had the least to do with the overarching
theme of the blog series
·
“Has Physics Become the New Alchemy?” (March
2013) – my diatribe against modern physics, and the sorry state that it
presently seems to be in: I contend that it is a science in need of a
theoretical overhaul
·
“The New World
Order?” (May 2013) – an expression of my concerns about how technological
development and the increasing concentration of wealth seem to be contributing
to a growing gulf between the rich and the poor, and my speculations about the
possible long-term social consequences of this
· “The Prime Directive” (September 2014) – one of my own personal favorites: thoughts on the kind of programming and instructions that might make an “artificially intelligent” computer or robot behave like an actual conscious, living organism
My personal program to date with this blog has been to put
out a new entry every month, but I am sensing that the well is finally running
dry, at least for the moment, and my account of this month’s trip to the Mayan ruins seems like a
logical place to close the circle for now. Of
course, should any future flashes of inspiration goad me into expanding the
collection, I will happily do so. But in
any case, it has been a joy and a privilege for having had the opportunity to
share these musings of mine over the past two-and-a-half years (and at least in
this small way memorialize them), and I am especially thankful for your interest
and indulgence.
Hey, John...I'm going to miss your blog. Hope you find a new outlet for all of those thoughts.
ReplyDeleteMatt