11.6 Danguilac
Danguilac
Sunday, September 05, 2004 (trip and write up)
Suzanne had scheduled to be at San Juan del Rio at 9 AM, which kinda fried me, because it was our day off and I didn?t see the need to get up at 6:00 AM to visit a ruin! But, that was when the city Secretario, Francisco Ruiz, had suggested, so it was set.
See, several days earlier Suzanne had had an entire day off and decided to scout a ruin named Danguilac on one of our maps. It wasn?t on any other maps, and it wasn?t in any book we had either. Such intrigue only enhanced her desire to find it. So off she set while I was busy at class, and she got back near the end of the day with her schedule. She told me she had found it, even given a couple of campesinos a ride into town. She said they did not speak Spanish, though the secretario in town did.
Of course, she didn?t tell me we were supposed to be in a town 2 hours away at 9 AM until we went to bed the night before. Well, I was slow in getting up. She woke me four times before I dragged myself out of bed. I ate some cereal for breakfast, we grabbed some water, and off we went.
So off we went, on the road to Mitla which we have driven many times. Past Dainzu, Labityeco, Yagul and finally to Mitla. We dove through Mitla for a while and came to a huge cloverleaf interchange, with two lanes in all directions, none of which actually went anywhere at all. On a nice secondary road we drove another 15 miles or so, and in a little ramshackle town we turned up what looked like a driveway to a tertiary road that was dirt. I as astonished hat Suzanne had ever found that road to turn up because it didn?t look like a road at all, even after we had driven on it for a while. In fact, several times as we drove along nine and a half miles of dirt back roads I was frankly astonished that she had ever found her way. But she said she essentially drove right there, no wrong turns, so we were destined to be there.
It was through some dramatic hills, steep and often covered with milagros (corn fields) or maguey fields perched on steep hillsides. Here is a picture of one maguey field. It takes up to nine years to grow the plants big enough to harvest so their roots are used to make mescal, the famous Oaxacan booze. You can see these plants are different sizes, planted to have a harvest each year.
We got into the plaza of the town and everyone was staring at us. Suzanne had said that when she was there everyone also stared, but waved to returned her greetings when she gave them a ?Buenos dias.? Since it was Sunday the streets were largely deserted, but a dozen men were lounging around the Palacio Municipio when I walked in. I greeted them and they all kind of broke out of their staring, mostly smiling, and I told them I wanted to see Senor Ruiz. Right there, they said, and sure enough, he was walking up and saying hello to Suzanne. I joined them, we did introductions, etc.
I took a minute to look at the church. It was built in 1881 (I think), which is rather late for many churches in the area. I think this is a good indication of how late any Spanish influences really penetrated here. It was quite interesting to see the sun, pair of angels, and moon carved into the exterior.
He asked if we wanted to walk all the way or to take the car, and I quickly said ?El coche,? because Suzanne had to me that he said it was 3 km. outside the pueblo. Francisco?s friend showed up, Cesar, and we piled into the car. Off we went.
I expected to get to the ruins. Nope. We went up a steep hill on a series of switchbacks for another four km. and ended in a little town which the map calls San Pedro Quiatoni, but in the town itself it has a sign declaring it to be El por Venir Quitoni. Franciso explained it was a new town, with maybe 300 or 400 inhabitants.
Interestingly, he also showed us the boundary line between it and his town, which was a wide swatch up and down the hills which had been entirely cleared vegetation, looking somewhat like a fire break. Later we saw another one, and I was reminded hat a couple of towns nearby had been in a savage border dispute, complete with multiple assaults and murders. Perhaps this was a way intended to avoid such problems.
We parked in the tiny plaza of that town. The church, where we could hear many women singing hymns, was a tiny adobe affair. When we got out of the car a couple dozen children came and lined up, openly staring at us. But Francisco got some directions from some men in the plaza and we soon set off.
We began by walking down hill, though the village. And down more of the hill. My calves began to ache, and I thought to myself, ?I?m glad we drove because it will be closer, and this hill is going to be a bitch to walk up.? And then we walked downhill some more, and then up and past some more maguey fields, and then down a hill into some tall brush with little trees about ten feet high, and then up some more. About then was when I told myself, ?OK, one foot in front of the other, that?s all it takes?? Up another hill, through a field of brush, and finally they stopped and said, ?It starts here.?
?This is the pyramid??
?Oh no, it just starts here.? My weariness left me immediately.
We looked around. Immediately we found some orange pottery and gray pottery. Didn?t tell us much. But we went over the edge of the hill and there we saw the first ruins. It was a large circular stone wall that went around the top of the hill. My first impression was, ?Wow, defensive works!? It was interesting because most of the ruins do not have defensive works like this, not have circular walls. Yagul has the remains of a similar all perched high on the hill over the ruins, and the place I called Pueblo Viejo had some unusual circular walls, but which were not defensive like these. Suzanne walked out on the walls, and then clambered down some. Cesar turned to me and said, ?She has not fear, does she!?
?No,? I said, and we laughed.
?What as that?? she asked, so I repeated it.
?Oh, a little,? she said, and when I repeated it in Spanish everyone laughed again.
A couple of broken metate were visible there, and another a bit later which as lying at the bottom of a drop. A metate is a piece of stone carved to be square, and slightly curved, and is used to hold corn as it is ground with another stone called a mano. They are distinctive, easy to recognize and found all through MesoAmerica.
We walked around the walls, and at the back of the part we were on was a platform or little plaza. All the side of this hill, beneath those stone walls, was REALLY steep and high. As I walked along the platform a part of the all crumbled and boulders went crashing below. Yikes, but I was quick enough on my feet. At one corner I found what appeared to be a little alcove, but the roof collapsed. It was like the alcove at Cerro de las Minas where to took the picture of Suzanne.
From that vantage I had a startling view of the rest of the ruin. It was on another hilltop, about a hundred yards away, and connected by a natural bridge of gigantic boulders. It was really startling to see. Some structures were visible at the far end.
We descended to our end of the bridge. At the bottom was a large rock which had a hole carved into it which reminded me entirely of the holes at Yagul, which were used to make offerings to La Rana. Close by was a clear footprint in the rock, carved or left there by some supernatural being. No doubt it was a footprint. Then, a bit on, a second hole as at Yagul. I was impressed. It had the appearance and feeling of a sacred place.
It was not difficult to cross via the boulders. The dropped away on both sides, steep and high. At the far end was another stone wall which completely cut off the approach. I was about impossible to climb over, and so I followed the guides around one end. It was not made to be climbed around. It was difficult, especially since there was some kind of maguey perched atop it with its spiny leaves right at face level. So, difficult but not impossible, and around I went. It was clearly made to defend that approach.
For the whole of this time Suzanne had been following taking pictures and scrutinizing pottery shards.
When I got to the top I noticed that my hand was bleeding and I had a huge lump, and that my wrist was killing me. I don?t? even know where that happened. Overall, I was pricked and scraped and stabbed five or six times sufficiently to bleed.
Once past that wall, I nearly gasped to see the remains of adobe walls. These were the first adobe which I had seen in any ruin, and many of the ruins would have had adobe structures about them. Most of course had been melted away by the seasonal rains, and though they might last for centuries, nonetheless, here they were. This made me think, ?Wow, these ruins are relatively recent!?
There were a pair of rooms there, about twenty feet long, connected and opening to the interior of the second hill. A large mano was perched on the wall of one ruined adobe wall. It was flat on one side, apparently used on that part to grind the corn on the matate.
A little platform outside the buildings looked down into what must have once been a plaza. I was overgrown, as indeed, all the ruins were. In the center was a large pile of rocks, and perched upright in the center was a stone which appeared for the life of me to be a linga. I could only stare for a while.
But of course I went closer. I did not touch it though. It seemed to be too sacred. It had two little and one larger holeground into the opposite sides, looking like faces, and it had a number of red stains on it, apparently a natural stain as was often used to sanctify objects. I remembered the grana lecture I had receive, about how things were stained red to be holy.
The standing rock did not appear to be ancient. It looked to be fairly recently perched atop that pile of rocks. I had Suzanne take some pictures. On impulse from my voices, I offered it some water, and got a couple of strange looks from our guides. A little later I asked Cesar what it was and he said he didn?t know. I said it looked like a place for the campesinos to make offerings, and he agreed.
A wall, dropping off to the steep side again, was on one side. We walked across it, and there were many more pottery fragments. Suzanne showed me one of gray ware that still had the lip of the olla, and then another. I felt them and turned one around and put them together into one piece. It was quite a thrill! Of course, we left them right there where we had found them.
We went up another small hill opposite the first adobe buildings. Another adobe wall was there, and behind it, another higher part which was filled with dirt and overgrown, but which could have been building. Past that was another flat part, like half an oblong plaza, and past that only another precipitous drop. From that end Franciso pointed out the river, far far below, and the trail that led back to his puebla of San Juan del Rio.
We went around to the fourth side surrounding the plaza with the image, and more adobe ruins were there. This time there was clearly a large room with a smaller one at one end, and an apparent doorway leading to the center. The adobe walls there were at least six feet thick. No wonder it took so long for them to melt! Most of the adobe walls were that thick.
When I was estimating those walls I silently cursed myself for not taking more care to measure other parts of the ruin. After all, this was a virgin ruin! Well, next time maybe. We didn?t have the energy or time to continue.
Francisco was getting ready to go around the end of the wall again, to cross the bridge and retrace our steps. However, Suzanne saw a little path down and descended. We all just looked at each other and followed. It went down and down, and then along the hillside about half way up it. To our right the steep incline swept up to where we had been. The path sent up then, and down, steep.
?Es para los chivos,? I said, and the men laughed, agreeing. (?It?s for the goats.?)
Now, when clambering or climbing I always look down to where I put my feet. If I had not I might have fallen when those rocks slipped way above there. I often take off my glasses, too, because the bifocals actually make I harder to see clearly. Well, at one point as we walked along that trail I saw Suzanne out of the corner of my eye, who had been hiking quickly way in front as usual when we are not exploring, and she was sitting on the hillside above me to my right. This surprised me of course, and I looked right at her. It wasn?t her! It was an old indigenous woman, with a red scarf on her head and a blue blouse and a skirt sitting there! This startled me even more so I stared. Oop! It was a maguey plant!
?Oh damn,? I thought, what a time to have no tobacco! But instead I just gave a quick thanks and stumbled on.
Stumbled is the right word. We had left the excitement of discovery and my weariness fell on me like rocks I had been sweating so much my shirt and head scarf were soaked and it was running off my face. As we went back I ran out of water, and was saying like a mantra, ?One foot in front of the other.? Some of those hills were steep, and I was essentially taking baby steps. The good part was that I made numerous jokes about it with Francisco and Cesar, and we had some good laughs. Jokes like: ?I think that three men here could use the energy of that one woman there.? Or, ?Why was it three kilometers to get there and seven on the way back?? Or when Franciso said, ?It?s only twenty minutes more,? and I said, ?That is twenty kilometers for me!? Well, it was funny at the time.
We finally got back to San Pedro Quiatoni. Man, I was totally beat. Francisco asked if we wanted to get a refresco (soda) or water, and of course we did, so he began to lead everyone to the local misscellania. I said, ?I?ll meet you at the car,? and staggered off to it, hoping to sit down and have a couple of minutes of quite time. Ha!
When I got there about thirty children were waiting. Open eyed staring is not bad manners there, I would guess! I aid hello, smiling, and most of them just stared. When I got to the car and sat down, about fifteen boys and a couple of adults were there, all lined up and still staring. I wondered what I could do to turn it into a positive experience, and so I tried to address them. My Spanish is good enough to greet boys! But they said nothing.
It occurred to me later that it was likely that the did not understand me. That they did not speak Spanish. That Zapotec was their language. After all, it was Francisco?s second language. Every so often one of the men would say something and I didn?t understand it, but the boys would smile or laugh a little. And when Suzanne got back with some water, they stared at her.
Finally, we thanked the men in the plaza and went off. I said to Francisco, ?I believe they do not see Americans very much, eh?? and he laughed and agreed.
Back in the plaza he asked if we were going to leave right away. We said, ?Well, is there a restaurant where we can get everyone lunch??
?No, no restaurant in town.? We were pretty surprised. The town has two thousand people! But well, it is a poor town and I am sure no one there would ever eat out, and it is at the end of almost ten miles of dirt road, so what tourists will come there? ?Try San Bartolo,? he suggested.
We told him that we would like to pay him a tip for helping us. It would have been impossible without him. But he said, ?No, no problem.?
So I said, ?For the town then, the children.?
?Si,? he agreed, and I gave him Mex$200 which seemed fair to me. He thanked us a couple of times.
?Are you coming back?? he asked. We took that as a sign that we would be welcome, and we said we would try. Then we said thanks to Cesar, farewell to the other men still sitting in the plaza, got in the car and left.
We both felt tired, and I am gratified that even Suzanne?Ms. Hiker?did! But we were probably at 5,000 feet above sea level, which is part of the explanation. But we agreed hat it had been an excellent adventure, an exciting time, a pleasant visit with strangers, and an interesting ruin.
We both had come to similar conclusions about the ruin. We believe that it was a pretty late construct. When the books say ?The Zapotecs took to the hills,? we think they went there and other places like it. I think it had been a sacred site, with the footprint and the offering bowls cut into the rock, beforehand, and people took refuge there and built the defensive structures. Indications of this are that the adobe was still there, that the rocks were not monumental but rather of an easily handled size (though I have to admit it would have been a bitch carrying them up that steep hillside!), but mostly that the works seemed entirely defensive in nature. It seemed that the first walled circle would have been the outer defensive works, perhaps where everyone gathered when the Spaniards came; and the second was the final defense, with the sacred enclosure which housed the priests and probably the chief in a small, simple imitation of the standard plaza with buildings on three sides.
The entire site was covered with paths, and there was enough litter (mostly water bottles) to make us think that people still go there. The first hill, in fact, had a combined corn and maguey field on it. And the idol, the Zapotec linga, indicated that it was probably still used by the descendants of those folks who fled there from the invaders.
A great day, a fascinating ruin.