"And all the animals drew near to him and said, "We do not like to see you so sad. Ask us for whatever you wish and you shall have it." The Man said, "I want to have good sight." The vulture replied, "You shall have mine." The Man said, "I want to be strong." The jaguar said, "You shall be strong like me." Then the Man said, "I long to know the secrets of the earth." The serpent replied, "I will show them to you." And so it went with all the animals. And when the Man had all the gifts that they could give, he left. Then the owl said to the other animals, "Now the Man knows much, he'll be able to do many things. Suddenly I am afraid." The deer said, "The Man has all that he needs. Now his sadness will stop." But the owl replied, "No. I saw a hole in the Man, deep like a hunger he will never fill. It is what makes him sad and what makes him want. He will go on taking and taking, until one day the World will say, 'I am no more and I have nothing left to give.'"The Old Storyteller, Apocalypto, (2006)
I thought we might take a little walk down Aztec Alley today. Or to be more precise, Mesoamerican images and Aztec Alphabet Alley. Knowing that the masses are out there, hungering for a little basic Nàhuatl (the Aztec language), in my infinite kindness I thought I would give you a short cheat on How To Speak Nàhuatl Like A Native. It is really quite simple. You simply add -atl, -etl or -tl to any word(s) in your sentence. Such as, " I would like a cup of chocolate, an avocado salad with a side of Quetzalcoatl Fries and please tell my mother I will be in the shade of that volcano." This becomes, " 
Jo would like uno chocolatl, it avocatl salatl con fritos Quetzalcoatl y por favor ditl mamatl jo suetl atl Popocatepetl." You can see how stunningly simple it is. ( In the above sentence, chocolatl [xocoatl], avocatl, Quetzalcoatl and Popocatepetl are actual Nàhuatl words.) Soon you, too, will be able to stroll down the brick-layed causeways of Tenochtitlan on your way to the floating flower markets, speaking like a native. Sidestepping the occasional rivulet of blood from further in the plazas, you may stop at a small vendor and ask for a cup of "chocolatl, por favor." Of course, all of this will be more amusing when you have your TimeTravelTicket© from DisneyAdventures®, but until then, you may continue to practice your Nàhuatl until pitch perfect. Every few years I cycle around, once again, to a transitory and dilettante-ish interest in Mesoamerican culture, practices and mythology. Being born and raised (for the most part)
in New Mexico, U.S.A., one might think that I would, by inclination, be more interested in Mesoamerican culture than that but I am not. My Indian background is Osage, a Plains Tribe, and thus not associated at all with blood sacrificetl, chocolatl, cactus spine piercing of my genitalatls nor throwing still beating heartls into the flames atop the sacrificial templetls. There is no getting around the fact that they were a bloodthirsty lot, the Aztecs, nor were they alone. The Mesoamerican Cultures Rollbook resounds with a chain of cultures that all, to greater or lesser degree, knew their gods only liked human blood (not animal, thank you, inferior vintage, eh?): 
Olmec, Maya, Zapotec, Toltec, Mexica, Aztec, Tarascan, Totonac, Huastec and Mixtec, to mention the prominent. As well, the gods had a different take on divine reality specific to that part of the world - Venus (the star) was important, rain as well and of course, the ever popular suffering of children which was provoked by the priests and the children's tears collected and offered to either Tlaloc or Chaac just prior to the children themselves being sacrificed. Long ago, during the brief time of my (very) late post-adolescent gang years, my friends and I would gather and smoke unreasonable amounts of a green herb and, depending on the size of the group, I would usually be asked to "make the sacrifice." This involved picking the youngest stoned female member, friend or acquaintance present, usually Martha, the youngest sister of my close friend, and commence the long, involved, herb-inspired narration of the Sacrifice of the Virgins at the Wells of Chichen-Itza (an actual historical rite).(This was all vocal, by the way.) I arrived at the village square, I picked the virgin (the chosen victim for the night, hopefully deeply stoned), I instructed her that she had been chosen by the gods for a rare and high honor, 
I led her to the temple, I urged her to drink the sacred drink (no, not chocolatl, usually a beer), smoke the sacred herb (yet more of the green craziness), and then, in a trance, we would proceed to the top of the temple where she would cry out her desire to Quetzalcoatl to be taken to the Pure Lands. Still deeply stoned, we would then proceed to the Wells of Sacrifice (the cenotés at Mayan ruins - sacrificial wells especially at Chichen Itza). I would wrap her wrists with the sacred copper bells, lead her to the edge, tell her to cry out for her god, then ruthlessly rip out her heart, throw it on a smoking brazier at the cenoté's edge, and push her body, bells still tinkling, into the void of the dark, cold water. If I was in form and the herb had been particularly good that evening, at this 
point the girl would scream - actually, all the girls would scream - as she fell off the end of the sofa with her wrists still shaking "the bells" wildly in the air. All of my friends always deeply appreciated the performance and the young female victim, after a restorative of herb or drink, would sit amazed by the fact that she had "actually been there." I must admit that I rather enjoyed it all but alas!, all good things come to an end and we all moved on to other life paths. I sometimes wonder if my "victims", now grown women, ever dream of the Wells of Sacrifice at Chichen Itza and wake sweaty, a little spooked and feeling slightly stoned. Of course, you out there in Blogland cannot avail yourselves of my hypnotic baritone, nor the amounts of herb necessary to recreate my performance art, but if you like, you can make genuine Aztec chocolatl as drunk by Moctezuma himself. Aztec Royal Chocolatl (be advised, this is nothing at all like the hot chocolate you know): combine 1 square
ground bittersweet dark chocolate, 1 tsp powdered red chili, 1 vanilla pod & 1 Tbsp honey in a cup (mortar) and grind finely. Add enough hot water to make a paste, then enough more to make one full goblet, mix. Cool. Froth with a whisk and pour from a great height into a golden goblet which, after use, must be throw away. If it is a feast day, you may add an aromatic flower of your choice to the grinding process. Okay, okay, if you want to Mexify this drink to make it more recognizable to your decadent white palate, use milk and sugar instead of water and honey and serve it hot but be aware that it isn't genuine that way.
Why I got into all of this today I have no idea, perhaps simply nostalgia, recollections of simpler times (mine, not the Aztecs), or simply because I am in my cycle of revisiting Mesoamerica. Who knows? Whatever the reason, enjoy the drink, you never know when someone may pop into your life and tell you it is time to don the bell-bedecked bracelets, the gods are waiting . . . .
Leducdor
Jo would like uno chocolatl, it avocatl salatl con fritos Quetzalcoatl y por favor ditl mamatl jo suetl atl Popocatepetl." You can see how stunningly simple it is. ( In the above sentence, chocolatl [xocoatl], avocatl, Quetzalcoatl and Popocatepetl are actual Nàhuatl words.) Soon you, too, will be able to stroll down the brick-layed causeways of Tenochtitlan on your way to the floating flower markets, speaking like a native. Sidestepping the occasional rivulet of blood from further in the plazas, you may stop at a small vendor and ask for a cup of "chocolatl, por favor." Of course, all of this will be more amusing when you have your TimeTravelTicket© from DisneyAdventures®, but until then, you may continue to practice your Nàhuatl until pitch perfect. Every few years I cycle around, once again, to a transitory and dilettante-ish interest in Mesoamerican culture, practices and mythology. Being born and raised (for the most part)
in New Mexico, U.S.A., one might think that I would, by inclination, be more interested in Mesoamerican culture than that but I am not. My Indian background is Osage, a Plains Tribe, and thus not associated at all with blood sacrificetl, chocolatl, cactus spine piercing of my genitalatls nor throwing still beating heartls into the flames atop the sacrificial templetls. There is no getting around the fact that they were a bloodthirsty lot, the Aztecs, nor were they alone. The Mesoamerican Cultures Rollbook resounds with a chain of cultures that all, to greater or lesser degree, knew their gods only liked human blood (not animal, thank you, inferior vintage, eh?): 
Olmec, Maya, Zapotec, Toltec, Mexica, Aztec, Tarascan, Totonac, Huastec and Mixtec, to mention the prominent. As well, the gods had a different take on divine reality specific to that part of the world - Venus (the star) was important, rain as well and of course, the ever popular suffering of children which was provoked by the priests and the children's tears collected and offered to either Tlaloc or Chaac just prior to the children themselves being sacrificed. Long ago, during the brief time of my (very) late post-adolescent gang years, my friends and I would gather and smoke unreasonable amounts of a green herb and, depending on the size of the group, I would usually be asked to "make the sacrifice." This involved picking the youngest stoned female member, friend or acquaintance present, usually Martha, the youngest sister of my close friend, and commence the long, involved, herb-inspired narration of the Sacrifice of the Virgins at the Wells of Chichen-Itza (an actual historical rite).(This was all vocal, by the way.) I arrived at the village square, I picked the virgin (the chosen victim for the night, hopefully deeply stoned), I instructed her that she had been chosen by the gods for a rare and high honor, 
I led her to the temple, I urged her to drink the sacred drink (no, not chocolatl, usually a beer), smoke the sacred herb (yet more of the green craziness), and then, in a trance, we would proceed to the top of the temple where she would cry out her desire to Quetzalcoatl to be taken to the Pure Lands. Still deeply stoned, we would then proceed to the Wells of Sacrifice (the cenotés at Mayan ruins - sacrificial wells especially at Chichen Itza). I would wrap her wrists with the sacred copper bells, lead her to the edge, tell her to cry out for her god, then ruthlessly rip out her heart, throw it on a smoking brazier at the cenoté's edge, and push her body, bells still tinkling, into the void of the dark, cold water. If I was in form and the herb had been particularly good that evening, at this 
point the girl would scream - actually, all the girls would scream - as she fell off the end of the sofa with her wrists still shaking "the bells" wildly in the air. All of my friends always deeply appreciated the performance and the young female victim, after a restorative of herb or drink, would sit amazed by the fact that she had "actually been there." I must admit that I rather enjoyed it all but alas!, all good things come to an end and we all moved on to other life paths. I sometimes wonder if my "victims", now grown women, ever dream of the Wells of Sacrifice at Chichen Itza and wake sweaty, a little spooked and feeling slightly stoned. Of course, you out there in Blogland cannot avail yourselves of my hypnotic baritone, nor the amounts of herb necessary to recreate my performance art, but if you like, you can make genuine Aztec chocolatl as drunk by Moctezuma himself. Aztec Royal Chocolatl (be advised, this is nothing at all like the hot chocolate you know): combine 1 square
ground bittersweet dark chocolate, 1 tsp powdered red chili, 1 vanilla pod & 1 Tbsp honey in a cup (mortar) and grind finely. Add enough hot water to make a paste, then enough more to make one full goblet, mix. Cool. Froth with a whisk and pour from a great height into a golden goblet which, after use, must be throw away. If it is a feast day, you may add an aromatic flower of your choice to the grinding process. Okay, okay, if you want to Mexify this drink to make it more recognizable to your decadent white palate, use milk and sugar instead of water and honey and serve it hot but be aware that it isn't genuine that way.Why I got into all of this today I have no idea, perhaps simply nostalgia, recollections of simpler times (mine, not the Aztecs), or simply because I am in my cycle of revisiting Mesoamerica. Who knows? Whatever the reason, enjoy the drink, you never know when someone may pop into your life and tell you it is time to don the bell-bedecked bracelets, the gods are waiting . . . .
Leducdor
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