Mesoamerican Culture: The Human Bond with Nature

Waking at sunrise one morning, I walked into the front room to check on the volcanoes Iztaccíhuatl and Popocatéptl. Checking the volcanoes has become my new morning ritual — akin to checking to see whether Mt. Rainier was 'out' when I lived in Seattle. On this day my curiosity was rewarded by seeing their outlines etched against the early morning sky.

Iztaccíhuatl (Sleeping Woman) reclines at the left. Her head nearly touches the left margin. A dip under her chin is followed by her breasts and folded arms, then her knees and finally her feet sticking up. Beyond her feet is a long, low ridge linking her to her warrior-suitor Popocatéptl (Smoking Mountain) at the right. At 17,167 ft. Iztaccíhuatl is the third highest mountain in Mexico. Popocatéptl's Sulphur plume is colored pink against the early morning light.

Here's a close up of Popocatéptl, don Gregorio, don Goyo.  

Standing guard over Iztaccihuatl is her unrequited lover, snow-capped Popocatéptl (Smoking Mountain) in all his glory! At 17,800 ft., Popocatéptl is the second highest mountain in Mexico and rises about 10,000 ft. above the Valley of Mexico (altitude: 7,000 ft.).  Photo courtesy of Reed

Like other agricultural peoples around the world, Mesoamerican culture regarded man as inextricably linked to the land, Mother Earth, and to the naturaleza (natural world). The geography of Mexico is such that early peoples were subjected to earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes from the East (Caribbean) and cyclones from the West (Pacific Ocean), floods and drought.

It is little wonder, then, that vulnerability to the vicissitudes of nature gave rise to and reinforced a profound dependency on the seasonal arrival of las lluvias (the rains) to assure the corn crop. A widely-repeated dicho (saying) captures this traditional wisdom:

Sin maís no hay país (Without corn there is no country).

A short walk around the corner from our apartment yielded yet another discovery. Growing in a protected space in the middle of Escocia [Scotland] Street is a specimen of the national tree of Mexico, the Montezuma Cypress (Taxodium mucronatum).

This Montezuma Cypress grows practically in front of our neighborhood Tiendita de Abarrotes (Grocery Store).

The Montezuma Cypress occupies a unique place in Mexican cultural consciousness. These words, written recently to introduce a paper discussing Mexico's national tree, capture not only its symbolism, but its emotional power as well:

"Old Man of the Water...what would our country and our culture be without you; endearingly Mexican [emphasis in the original], you bury your roots in the depths of the soil in order to extract from it the vital essence that gives you life." 

The phrase 'vital essence' refers to the Mesoamerican concept of the Life-Force, believed to give life's energy not only to the natural world but to the seres humanos (human beings) who are its inhabitants. It is believed that water carries this Life-Force, as epitomized in this traditional dicho (saying):

El agua es vida  (Water is life).

In Mesoamerican culture, work was traditionally regarded with pleasure, even considered to be a privilege, because it enabled human beings to maintain a harmonious relationship with the land and with the natural world. A Purhépecha friend, relating stories of her childhood spent helping her father in their fields, expressed this pleasure when she observed,

"Those days in the fields were fiesta days; we were always exploring something."

Today, the Montezuma Cypress is harvested and used for wood beams and furniture, among other uses. Based on the testimony of my friend, it is reasonable to believe that today's artisan woodworkers maintain this ancient connection. Contemporary legends about how artisans approach their work support this view.

Water was sacred in the Mesoamerican cosmology; it was believed to carry the Life-Force to the natural world — plants, animals and man. Cypress trees generally require a lot of water; many times they grow in swamps.  But because of its adaptability to many of Mexico's different ecosystems, the Montezuma Cypress is found throughout Mexico — from sea level in Montemorelos, Nuevo León, to Mexico City at 7,000 ft.

The sacred role of water in the Mesoamerican cosmology draws our attention to the writer's use of the nahuatl (language of the Aztecs) word ahuehuete, which translates as 'Old Man of the Water'. It is probably not too much of a stretch to imagine that 'Old Man' is a veiled reference to the ancient water god. In any event, the writer's reference to it demonstrates the value accorded to the ancient meaning by contemporary Mexican cultural sensibility.

The Tule Tree is named for the town where it grows, Santa Maria de Tule, Oaxaca; it is probably the most famous Montezuma Cypress. Scientists estimate that it is more than 2,000 years old. With a diameter of 37.5 ft, 35 people holding hands can barely encircle it. It is said that five hundred people can be sheltered in the shade provided by the canopy of the Tule Tree.

Here is the classic photograph of the Tule Tree. With a 14-meter diameter and a circumference of more than 45 meters, encircling the leafy juniper requires more than 30 people holding hands, as shown in the image.

With the sacred ceiba tree (Tree of Life in Maya cosmology), the ahuehuete is an element of the natural world inextricably linked to Mexican culture stretching from prehispanic to modern times.

To the Aztecs, the combined shade of an āhuēhuētl (Montezuma Cypress) and a pōchōtl (Ceiba pentandra) metaphorically represented a ruler's authority. As a demonstration of the power and presence of government, the Aztecs planted Montezuma Cypress trees along important avenues traveled by their kings.

These magnificent trees are not uncommon in our new neighborhood of Coyoacán (Mexico City). Whenever we come upon one, we smile at each other — mutual recognition of the irrepressible vitality of the Life-Force.