The bus dropped us off outside a closed down restuarant on a nowhere stretch in the grassland-semi-desert-cum-wasteland. It was a long, straight track out there... land of tall, dried, yellow grasses... skeletal black cactus trees... swaythes of parasitic white flowers to either side. The shrubs were leaping with life... juicy grasshoppers, flying beetles, wasps, butterflies... the ground swarmed with red ants... they fed on spattered remains. We'd see lizards darting, little birds escaping... high in the blue, great vultures circled under the sun. Halfway along the track we spotted a dark shape... a snake... it was there on the tarmac ahead... some feet long, undulating. We drew up to the thing slowly and it retreated a little way... began to coil in on itself hideously... as if in pain... it writhed gruesomely... tied itself in a knot... let out a sudden shriek and flipped itself over. It exposed its fat white belly. At that, we moved away rapidly... continued past it... wondering if the red mark on its head were a wound... if the beast was really dying. We watched it a while from a distance... struggling with its coils... considering it as an omen we could not fathom. Whether the snake's performance was a genuine death throe or some elaborate defence mechanism proved ultimately irrelevant. On our return that way we found it hopelessly flattened... pancaked by some speeding vehicle. The snake was dead.
The archeological site proved small though not unimpressive... uncrowded and atmospheric. The main points were the sacrificial temple (room of pillars), the ball court, the votive pyramid and the crumbling remains of La Quemada's residential and political offices... perched on a hill, overlooking the city.
The sacrificial temple was built with walls some feet thick. The former clay exterior had given way to reveal a crude layer of slabs... mottled fragments set by a cement of mud and straw. It was in some contrast to the dark grey (almost granite) edifices of Teotihuacan. Inside the temple were huge pillars... the supporting structure of the former roof... it had come crashing down in the fire.
The ball court was an 'I' shape... the surrounding walls were greatly reduced in height... colonialists had looted the stone. Like similar structures throughout meso america, it served as an arena for a cosmic ball game. A giant globe would be knocked about by opposing teams with the aim of reaching a hoop. The outcome of games is believed to have had political and cosmic implications for the local population... the players too... the losing side won the honour of sacrifice.
The Votive pyramid was a steeply inclined affair... and close by stood the remains of elite dwellings... accessible by steps up the hill. We ascended them in the mid-day heat... impossibly large and exhausting. The first level housed a network of walls and rooms... already high up, there were platforms overlooking the site... the structures, the lakes, the plains. There were heaps of rubble all about... sprouting cacti, little yellow flowers. We climbed some more flights to the next level... continued to a large courtyard with a mesquite tree. Up there, we could look out on old trading paths... undamaged by the locals primitive agricultural techniques. There was a strange feeling up in the courtyard... the vultures swooped especially close, black crows flapped and cawed. At one point, a wind swept in and with it a great buzzing... something like a swarm of bees. The noise faded quickly however, the gust subsided.
The top level of the structure was insurmountable... a wall of crumbling stone. We descended the flights then and commenced our hike back to the highway. Almost immediately a minibus pulled up and offered us a ride. We got in, watched the mountains roll by.
MORE ON MEXICAN CHURCHES AND CATHOLICISM (Guanajuato)
The colonial churches are excessive, mostly baroque. Tiered towers reach up... setting the front corners.. an archway carved at the peaks, giant green bells in place... crowned by a cross or a snowflake. Enormous carved doors open beneath a chiselled and extensive arch... it climbs upward... flanked by pillars... entwined by shapes... curling, twisting, unfurling, unfolding... leaves and feathers and vines and waves... rippling outward with some flamboyance... the saints form the points of a triangle... set in enclaves... nestled in shells and swaythed by flowers... the triangles reach upward... with Christ at the peak.
At the templo de Compana the style reaches its extreme. The building is dusty pink and grey... crumbling... saints huddled over the door, great pink flower trees to the front. The entire exterior forms a gruesome facade... single, double, triple set pillars... in rows and then in columns... the entire building creeping with stone folliage... curls. Truly hideous.
The Basilica de Neustra Senora de Guanajuato stands the most elegant... enormous and behind gates... a tall spiked fences spaced with urns and crosses... an exterior yellow and pink. Inside, stupendous and lavish fixtures... great chandeliers hanging from the domed ceiling... ornate white
balconies... marble floor. The dark pews roll on, row after row... they meet with the altar... rays bursting out... yellow, white, red... Above it Our Lady... Chalice in one hand, cross in the other... golden incandescence streaming forth.
Truly though, the Iglesia de San Roque excels in matters of taste and style. Slightly dilapidated, set in a plaza before an arrangement of lamps... hopelessly twisted posts, curling surreal flowers. The interior is set with mannequins of dread... Jesus the saviour, Jesus the car crash, Jesus the acid freak (check the eyes)... Jesus in cryogenic suspension... lying open eyed in some peculiar plastic coffin. The religious statement is something sublime.