Teotihuacan: Wandering through Time

Avenue of the Dead, photo by G. Enns

Our early morning bus took us out of the city proper and into the expansive northern barrios of multi-colored apartments cascading like giant colorful blankets down the mountainsides—yellow, turquoise, blue, pink, orange. The Mexicable gondolas glided smoothly through the air and up the hills. 

Soon, the city gave way to green pastures, small plots of nopales cacti, and flat-roofed houses. Within the hour, the bus squeezed through the narrow lanes of the pueblo of San Juan Teotihuacan and to Puerta 2 of the archeological zone of Teotihuacan. 

We were early, with hardly any people around. The vendors were just opening up the metal roll-up doors of their stone cubicles and artfully displaying sun hats, clay animal whistles, and figurines of ancient gods.

Soon, face to face with the Pyramid of the Sun, a literal human-made mountain, we knew we had left the modern world behind. Recent scholars now speculate that it was built not for the sun god but for Tlaloc the water god; evidence of a large mote and many child burials (usually associated with water) have been found around its base.

We turned left and began our walk down the center of the Avenue of the Dead, past steep stone steps, temples, and the Palace of Quetzalpapalotl to the massive Pyramid of the Moon, with its precipitous steps to the top where a ceremonial temple once stood.

Spearthrower Owl

Around the central square are many smaller temple complexes, entrances to the living spaces of priests and the well-to-do. Who ruled this empire? Mayan sources point to a conqueror named Spearthrower Owl.

We have lunch in the shade of a temple, then wander up ancient steps and into the Palace of Quetzalpapalotl, probably home to a high ranking priest or dignitary. Inside, stone pillars and walls are adorned with images of quetzals and butterflies, owls and jaguars. A courtyard opens up to views of the main ceremonial square.

Where did the Teotihuacanos come from? Destructive volcanic eruptions making surrounding villages and towns uninhabitable may have brought them together on this high plane. Yet ultimately, drought, famine, and war may have taken its toll. The empire and the culture receded once more into the hills and fields and valleys. Other empires rose up. Various people inhabited the area, building onto the ancient structures, then left the vast complex largely to nature. Centuries later, peoples wandering up from the lower plains were awestruck. Who had the power to build mountains but the gods?

“Look at my works, ye mighty, and despair,” says Shelley’s Ozymandias, yet nothing of his works remains; it’s all swept away by time.

But here, the pyramids do remain, evidence of a Herculean effort on the part of tens of thousands—architects, engineers, hydrologists, quarrymen, stonemasons, mortar makers, rope makers, woodworkers, paintmakers, and painters. Archeologists have found men’s bones worn down by heavy lifting. Were they the labor that made these monuments happen? Some women’s teeth were worn down from biting fiber. Were they the makers who supplied the ropes to pull and hoist? Enemy captives were ritually decapitated or bludgeoned to death. Did they supply the blood to secure blessings from the gods?

We wandered back down the Avenue of the Dead and circumambulated the Pyramid of the Sun. Individual vendors sitting on the ground tried to tempt us over with bird songs and jaguar calls from clay whistles. I haggle, then buy a frog, a jaguar, and a sea turtle for the kids. 

Then we leave, back up the steep stone steps, the kids using both hands and feet as I imagine ancient Teotihuacano children did. At the top we turn around once more. The great pyramid, inhabiting the land for over 1,800 years, is still and silent, framed by a blue hazy sky and white clouds.

We walk back down past the trinket stalls and tour guides to Puerta 2 and catch the bus back to the modern world.