The language in which one thinks, which is to say, categorizes and gives shape to one's experiences, is of the greatest importance. Most of the notes I took during the incense-burner renewal ceremony were in Lacandon Maya, which provides convenient categories and concepts for the experiences I found myself living. But when I began translating them into English, I often felt as though I were trying to eat consomme with a fork.
In order to preserve nonoccidental cultures such as that of the Lacandones, we have to take special pains to preserve the language in which they evolved. We occidentals not only can, but must, learn from other cultures, or the unique and extraordinary power which our technology has given us will soon render life on this planet impossible - except possibly for the viruses that are being evolved in Arizona and Siberia. But nonoccidental cultures are fast disappearing, drowning in the flood of occidental civilization. The missionaries are on the job, with the merchants and the politicians right on their heels, and then come the conscientious and long- suffering schoolteachers.
And yet, when I tell someone on the road between Palenque and Naha, "Soy el maestro de Naja'" (I am the schoolmaster of Naha'), I experience a sense of pride that I never imagined possible. With the enthusiastic help of K'ayum Ma'ax, the third son of Old Chan K'in of Naha, the school of Naha' is now standing. It is only another palm-thatched roof, but it has electric lights from a small, water-driven turbine that we installed. The turbine, electric lights and pure drinking-water systems are the first lessons in Occidental technology and culture at Naha'; Chan K'in and his sons have recognized them for what they are, the inevitable results of conformity to natural laws, and not the blessings of any religious denomination or any political party. Much remains to be done, and I am now preparing the curriculum for the first classes, If things go as planned, the Lacandones will learn many useful lessons in how to participate in the material and technological wealth of our Occidental civilization - and that in order to do so, they must not necessarily cease to be Lacandones (hach winik) and join us in our spiritual poverty, confusion of human values and collective psychoses.
I divide my time between my office on the main floor of the National Anthropology Museum of cosmopolitan (and infernally contaminated) Mexico City, and Naha', Chiapas, where the last flickers of light from the Olmec-Maya-Lacandon cultural tradition seem a bit brighter every day - if only because the surrounding night becomes darker and darker. Any morning, funding and official permissions permitting, I get up an hour or two before dawn, throw my pack and machete into my car, and after some sixteen hours of driving (at standard VW speeds), I am nearing home.
Robert D. Bruce
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