San Juan Teotihuacán
In which the Mesoamericans show how to build a "real" pyramid (all apologies to those Giza enthusiasts out there).
One sunny, arid January day, I was fortunate enough to tick off a long-standing box on my great big list of places to go before I die- Teotihuacán, home of the dual pyramids of the Sun and Moon, respectively. Upon arrival, we found ourselves in a crowded, noisy, bustling place- dogs yawping, merchants hawking their trinkets, rubes wandering around looking for deals, but most likely getting fleeced- visualizing this place 2,000 years ago, I imagine it wasn’t too different- except, of course, the for ever-present tourists, which of course included myself and family. I am no different in contributing to the problems of global tourism, as I have to remind myself all the time. Keeps me humble-ish.
Ethical tourism quandaries aside, the place is staggeringly gorgeous, with pristine stonework and miles of walkable paths that highlight just how massive this settlement used to be. At 125-200,000 inhabitants at its apex, Teotihuacan was similar in size to Ancient Babylon, and during the 5th century C.E., it was the fifth-largest city in the world. And almost as inexplicably and mysteriously as it sprung up, the civilization of an indeterminate group of Mesoamerican people completely collapsed- for reasons still not known, but most likely due to climactic factors, water loss, soil erosion, and (possibly) civil war/class uprising- or a combination therein. Uncomfortable parallels to our current times.
After entering the World Heritage site, you step foot and walk north upon the “Calle de los Muertos”- the 40-meter wide, 2.4km-long street of the dead. A fitting name, as, at the end of the road, many people met their own “end of the road” in ritualistic sacrifices by the ruling priest caste. In the shadow of the Moon Temple, the poor victim’s “final destination” is either in front of or at the apex of the Moon Pyramid, set at the foot of the Cerro Gordo mountain range. The view from the road is a majestic one, with three major still-standing structures dominating the skyline (once there were around fifteen different pyramids)- the aforementioned Pyramid/Temple of the Moon to the north, the Temple of the Sun (third largest in the world, at least until North Korea finishes their contribution to the burgeoning pyramid industry), and the Palace-museum of Quetzalpapálot to the east- placed there to greet the morning sun.
But, before beginning to walk on the Calle de los Muertos, you enter a massive open arena (the Ciudadela) to the south of the main pyramids, and housed directly ahead, nestled on the other side of a hill is the Temple of the Feathered/Plumed Serpent- a gorgeously preserved edifice and site of a football-field length of tunnel preserved for almost 2,000 years. It`s a shame (obviously, it is actually for the best) that tourists aren`t allowed in because, for the last 20 years, scientists have been able, at the behest of the Mexican government, to experience a treasure trove of pristine Mesoamerican creations and history.
In the chamber, I have learned since traveling there, that Pyrite-infused walls reflect light and appear to emit sparkles like the night sky. Jade panthers, lapis lazuli, and ornate obsidian craftwork of the finest quality are untouched in this intentionally sealed catacomb. In another section of the tomb/tunnel, a mini diorama with pools of pristine mercury is found to mimic lakes in the land of dead and evoke the journey to the underworld. I can only imagine what it would be like to see it firsthand; the old adage “as above, so below” has never been as literal as it is here in Teotihuacán.
Sorry for the nerded-out archaeology lesson, now back to the trip: As you walk down the road of the dead, the massive Temple of the Sun casts a shadow in the early morning that eclipses most of the road- and straight ahead, the Pyramid of the Moon juts out of the landscape, with the Cerro Gordo (aptly named “fat mountain”) flanking it in the distance. The sun and moon pyramids are about 70 and 45 meters tall respectively- putting them well north of 200 feet, and still less than half as tall as the Pyramids of Giza- another box to still be checked off my list.
The Calle de los Muertos goes up and down through several smaller courtyards, each of which contains the remnants of houses/apartments, religious temples, merchant’s stores, and craftsmen's buildings. Most are in ruins, but moving away from the main road, you can walk through many subterranean domiciles that have been excavated in the last 50 years or so- Teotihuacan is still an active archaeological site, with at least 5 different scientists, archaeologists, and excavation teams visible to us “normies” while there- and more probably tucked away out of sight.
At the end of the road, there is a large courtyard- with the palace/museum of Quetzalpapálotl to the left, the temple of the moon straight ahead, and the Sun pyramid to the right and behind a few hundred meters. here, the acoustics are phenomenal, and it is likely where all the city pronouncements were made, in addition to the ritualistic sacrifices of lizards, predatory animals, and humans- remains of which have been found in multiple locations in and around the temples- especially the Moon Pyramid, which itself is a massive multi-tiered, multi-century burial ground.
One of the most interesting parts of the archaeological discoveries- and there are so many!- is just what a cultural melting pot this place was at its height- there is evidence in dwellings that people of Zapotec, Mayan, Mixtec, and Otomi origin lived in densely populated ethnic neighborhoods that functioned much like a modern cities’ Chinatown/Koreatown. The majority of people were farmers, but about one-third of the city was devoted to craftwork- especially obsidian or ceramics.
The buzz of activity starts at a hum, and by midday, Teotihuacán is in a full roar- literal roars, as many of the vendors interspersed throughout are mimicking jaguar roars through ceramic “whistles” in the shape of jaguar heads. We were gifted one of these with my son’s purchase of an obsidian jaguar. Proudly touted as “hand carved”, the materials from one vendor to the next look remarkably similar… But I’m sure no hawker of wares has ever misled a customer about their product. Also, I saw an Aztec-themed “Predator” statue for sale- which I am pretty sure is not authentic to the culture.
The palace/museum of Quetzalpapálotl only allows a small number of tourists in at a time- though standing in a blisteringly sunny line like it’s a Disney ride may sound unappealing, it is completely worth it- the engravings and contrast of the red stones, blue sky, and dramatic carvings make it a memorable and far more intimate experience than most of the city. Quetzalpapálotl is a butterfly god- but what is seen at the temple is loads of owl iconography (visible in the above picture), representing a religious change toward the end of this particular city’s life cycle. This place most likely served as a meeting house for a new political or religious movement or laid the groundwork for receiving a new emperor.
The weight of history pulls so strongly at this place- much like a trip to Wittgenstein Castle, the Vatican, or Angkor Wat, the feel of so many years, of lives lived, happiness sadness, birth, death, sacrifice, singing, and creation all ring soundly still- Teotihuacánmay not be what it once was, but the stirrings can still be felt- in both the bustle of modern activity as well as the contemplative silence of a briefly empty courtyard- or excavated underground dwelling. There is power and magic to be had here still. Despite the vast amounts of people there, my family was able to enjoy a quiet siesta among a copse of ancient, massive eucalyptus trees, completely undisturbed and completely silent- less than 50 yards from the main boulevard. Unexpected and refreshing, this dead-yet-not site holds so much more than I had anticipated.
Roars and entreaties from cash-strapped vendors aside, the site fills up by noon— so if you want a more sparsely populated pyramid viewing experience, I recommend getting to the park around the time they open at 8:00- definitely before 9:00 am. It is also insanely sunny, so sun care and comfortable shoes for the walk are both musts. It is about 50 minutes from Centro Mexico City, so wake up early, grab a cafe (at Tierra Garat or, if you like lines, the best bakery in the city Panaderia Rosetta), and get rolling. It’s worth it, trust me.
Awesome write up. Thanks for reaching me something new about Teotihuacan! I’ve been there a couple of times and always found it magical. I was lucky enough to have scaled the Sun and Moon pyramids. I’m glad they don’t let people up there anymore. It’s actually pretty dangerous.
“CACTUS FOR SCALE” would make a great band name.