THE TEUCHITLAN TRADITION

The label of the Teuchitlan tradition requires some explanation. It refers to the use of a distinctive form of public architecture found principally in the Tequila valleys of central Jalisco, with outliers in the seven surrounding states. These complexes date to the Late Formative through Classic periods (300 b.c.–a.d. 900) and are composed of successive concentric circles—a circular altar, a wider circular patio, and a ring of equally spaced structures facing the patio (Figure 1). Although they may share structures with adjacent complexes, each circle is a complete and independent unit, and individual elements do not occur without the others. Early circles have four structures around the central altar, but by the close of the Late Formative period (around a.d. 200), the circles typically have eight structures surrounding what is usually a much larger round pyramid (Weigand 1985). Teuchitlan refers to a town at the geographic center of the tradition's distribution, where the largest collection of this architecture can be found at the site of Guachimonton. All of the individual circles are thus referred to as guachimontones in recognition of that site's central importance.

Examples of guachimontones of the Teuchitlan tradition, from Santa Maria de las Navajas, Jalisco. From the 2002 Tequila Valley Regional Archaeological Project map.

The core of the Teuchitlan tradition was composed of several closely linked valleys that ring the Volcán de Tequila (Figure 2). In pre-Columbian times, the Laguna de Magdalena was a major feature of the western part of the valleys, and some natural predecessor of the modern La Vega reservoir was located in the southern part (Weigand 1993). The Tequila valleys are in many respects reminiscent of other large lake basins of the Mexican highlands (Patzcuaro, Tetzcoco)—they possess ample farmland, mountain resources, and lake fish and fowl that would have resulted in a diverse subsistence base.

Map of central Jalisco.

Just as in the rest of Mesoamerica, farmers in the Tequila valleys had to contend with a pronounced dry season-rainy season distinction. Today, this means that approximately 900–1,000 mm of annual rainfall falls primarily between late May and early October (Vose et al. 1992). This places seasonal limits on rainfall agriculture, but the total rainfall and number of frost-free days are greater than in, say, central Mexico. Weigand (1993) has argued that irrigation, terracing, raised fields, and other forms of agricultural intensification greatly extended potential food production, but more chronologically precise studies of these features are continuing (Stuart 2002).

Existing studies of the activities that took place in the public buildings have taken advantage of a unique source of data—ceramic dioramas of the architecture that depict dancing, drinking, marriages, and other activities (Townsend 1998:Figures 2, 27; Von Winning 1971:348, Figures 10, 11, 1974:Figures 41–45; Von Winning and Hammer 1972:Figures 21–23) (Figure 3). Ignacio Bernal (1949), J. Charles Kelley (1974), and Weigand (1992a) have pointed more specifically to the numerous scenes in which a tall pole is set in the central altar (e.g., Kan et al. 1970:Figure 35; Von Winning 1969:Figure 155) (Figures 4 and 5). While a group of individuals stand in the patio below, someone usually climbs the pole or balances on top. All of the authors previously cited identify the scenes as depictions of the pan-Mesoamerican volador ceremony, which is still practiced in many areas (Table 1).

Listing of known references to the volador ceremony

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North America, Mexico, Nayarit, village festival scene, ceramic, c. a.d. 200. Height, 7 cm; diameter, 15 cm. (Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Julian Goldsmith, 1989.639. Copyright 1999, Art Institute of Chicago. All rights reserved.)

1959.55.18. Pole scene, Nayarit. Two houses and a prone figure on top of a pole (volador). Several of the figures are wrapped in blankets. (Courtesy Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, CT.)

Ceremonial scene, Nayarit, 600 b.c.–a.d. 1000. Painted terra cotta. (Accession number 5444.7265; courtesy Gilcrease Museum, Tulsa, OK.)

In the ethnohistorically documented form of the volador, four young males climb a 11–25 m pole and leap off at a climactic moment of the ceremony, allowing the ropes tying them to an apparatus at the top to unwind as they spiral down. The four flyers (frequently dressed as birds) hope to make 13 circuits around the pole before touching down, totaling 52, the number of years in a calendrical cycle. As many authors ancient and modern have noted, the ceremony makes symbolic reference to both the Mesoamerican temporal round and the spatial model based on four cardinal directions (e.g., Kelley 1974; Torquemada 1943 [1612]:305–307). Lorenzo Boturini de Benaducci (1999 [1746]:21) also related this fourfold aspect of the voladores to the solstices and equinoxes, and Christopher L. Witmore (1998) recently summarized some of the suggestive evidence relating the circular imagery of the Mesoamerican calendar to the form of the guachimontones.

In a recent paper, I argued that the volador ritual was only the tip of the iceberg of guachimontón symbolism (Beekman 2002). The layout of the architecture itself was a metaphor for the Mesoamerican three-tiered model of the universe, with an upper world represented by the volador pole and the central mound, a middle world defined by the patio itself, and an underworld clearly referenced by the tombs sometimes found underneath the surrounding structures. This representation of sacred space has been identified at many other Mesoamerican centers (e.g., Ashmore 1991; Joyce 2000) as part of a conscious program relating political leaders to the sacred. The primary subsistence crop of Mesoamerica, maize, is also commonly related to this worldview both conceptually and iconographically (e.g., Bohrer 1994; Taube 2000). The most controversial part of my earlier paper was the claim that the concentric circular layout of the later guachimontones actually duplicated a cross-section of one of the eight-rowed maize varieties known to have evolved in western Mexico within the same general time frame (Figure 6).

Cross-section of maize variety Harinoso de Ocho next to a plan drawing of a sample guachimontón from Potrero de las Chivas. Redrawn by the author from Wellhausen et al. (1952:Figure 51) and Weigand (1975:Figure 4).

What I only alluded to previously was that the volador ritual may not be the best explanation for the imagery present in the ceramic dioramas of the Teuchitlan tradition circles. I aim to demonstrate this by first referring to recent archaeological excavations at Llano Grande that were partly guided by studies of the ceramic models. This will be followed by a discussion of an alternative source of inspiration for the dioramas and what this might mean for both our understanding of activities in the circles and of the role of political leaders in the Teuchitlan tradition.

EXCAVATIONS AT LLANO GRANDE

The 2000 Tequila Valley Regional Archaeological Project (TVRAP) excavations at the guachimontón of Llano Grande, although recent and unsynthesized, provide useful data that help explain the role of these complexes. The settlement is located on a mesa bounded to north and south by small seasonal streams. The mesa, in turn, lies within the terminus of a pass through the mountains that surround the Tequila valleys. The settlement is composed of a concentric circular arrangement of eight structures of the Teuchitlan tradition, an adjacent compound of restricted access (elite residences?), and another 50 structures grouped into 12 compounds (Figure 7). A conservative estimate of site area is 20 ha, and the inclusion of some compounds that are physically very close but separated by moderately deep arroyos would increase that figure. Ceramics pertain to the Early and Middle Tabachines phases (a.d. 1–400), and initial radiocarbon results (to be discussed elsewhere) support this assignment. Our excavations concentrated on three of the outer structures of the Llano Grande circle and on the patio (Figure 8), of which only the latter will be discussed here.

The Tequila Valley Regional Archaeological Project 2000 map of Llano Grande, Jalisco. Contour interval is 1 m.

The Tequila Valley Regional Archaeological Project 2000 map of the guachimontón at the Group 14 circular complex, Llano Grande, Jalisco. Contour interval is 10 cm.

There was an obvious rise in the center of the patio that I had initially interpreted as the customary altar, obscured by debris tossed aside by the looters who had clearly been digging there. As excavation progressed, however, it became clear that no construction material was present. At a very shallow depth, in fact, we had reached a slightly raised solid surface that turned out to be a wide strip of consolidated ashflow that runs north-south across the center of the patio and quite close to the surface. Although solid, the surface of the ashflow was soft enough for the builders of the circle to cut into it. Numerous crisscrossing cuts had been made to produce a circular bowl-shaped depression of about 20 cm in depth and about 25 cm in diameter (Figure 9). Measurements confirmed that it lay at the direct center of the guachimontón patio, and no other holes were found in the patio. It appears that instead of constructing an altar, the builders of the Llano Grande circle had used the slight elevation for the same purpose. Several similar holes within central altars have since been found during excavations at the site of Guachimonton (Phil Weigand, personal communications 2000–2002).

Photograph of carved hole in center of patio in the Llano Grande guachimontón. Scale = 25 cm.

These holes in the patio centers clearly correspond to the location where poles are depicted in the ceramic dioramas mentioned earlier. Ethnographic descriptions of the volador ceremony usually refer to setting the pole upright in a deep pit (see especially Bunzel 1952:424–425), which was then supported by earth and stones (nicely depicted iconographically in the Codex Borbonicus). The hole at Llano Grande is obviously not deep enough to support a freestanding pole, which would have required guy lines leading to the edges of the patio for support. Some images of pole ceremonies other than the volador depict such a support system (e.g., those in Durán 1971 [1579]:Plates 19 and 47). Fray Bernardino de Sahagún's (1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 2:18) description of another pole ceremony similarly states, “The tree was made fast by many ropes from the top, as the rigging of a ship hangeth from the topsail.” Support lines of this sort would have made a volador ceremony impossible at Llano Grande: Flyers would have collided with the guy lines as they circled the pole. This is only one caution, but another is that a different ceremony may be more plausible.

POLE-CLIMBING CEREMONIES

There is a great deal more regarding pole ceremonies in Mesoamerica that has not yet been explored in the literature in western Mexico or elsewhere. We can start by noting that most of the ceramic models of the pole ceremony described earlier do not really look much like a volador ritual. Instead, figures are shown climbing or balancing atop the pole. This could be due to the difficulties inherent in representing swinging voladores in the ceramic medium. But there are other pole-climbing ceremonies in Mesoamerica that deserve more attention than they have received. Many of the ceramic models may better correspond to the Xocotl Huetzi, a ceremony recorded in central Mexico in the sixteenth century but recorded ethnohistorically and ethnographically across Mesoamerica (recently noted also by Butterwick 1998:102) (Figures 10 and 11). Indeed, Boturini (1999 [1746]:21) and Toribio de Motolinía (1903 [1536–1541]:Capítulo 16:46) even confused or conflated the volador ceremony with that of Xocotl Huetzi in their descriptions, suggesting an intimate relationship and overlapping symbolism.

Xocotl Huetzi ceremony, Codex Borbonicus (from Seler 1908:Figure 75).

Xocotl Huetzi ceremony, Primeros Memoriales (from Seler 1908:Figure 76).

The Xocotl Huetzi was the central ceremony from one of the 18 veintenas (20-day periods) of the central Mexican 365-day calendar. The veintena was alternately known as Hueymiccailhuitl (Great Feast of the Dead in Nahuatl), but both terms are used interchangeably and in combination with each other. As suggested later, they may refer to two different events from the same ceremony.

As described by various Spanish and native sources (Table 2), the ritual for this “month” involved the ceremonial raising of a pole, of approximately the same height (15–46 m) as that of the volador. Atop it were placed either banners or an image in amaranth dough of a bird, of the god of fire and time Xiuhtecuhtli, or the related Otomi deity Otontecuhtli. Dancing, feasting, and drinking of alcoholic pulque were part of the ceremony, which culminated in a race among male youths to reach the top of the pole and capture the image. Depending on which source one emphasizes, at some point during the ceremony one or more individuals were sacrificed by fire as an offering to Xiuhtecuhtli or the closely related Huehueteotl (the Old Fire God). The latter is specified only in two of the codices of the Magliabecchiano group.

Listing of known references to Xocotl Heutzi and similar ceremonies

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Eduard Seler (1993a [1908]:Book 4:139–143) and more recently Annabeth Headrick (2002) have interpreted this ritual as martial in orientation and as devoted to the souls of dead warriors or princes who have gone to an afterlife with the sun. Headrick notes, however, that the Tepantitla mural painting that depicts the Xocotl Huetzi ceremony or its analogue at Classic-period Teotihuacan also includes agricultural motifs associated with the Great Goddess. Indeed, Betty Ann Brown (1988) actually argues that this monthly ritual was more oriented toward agriculture before the Aztecs turned it into an instrument of state terror, something the Teotihuacan state may have done, as well.

If we acknowledge this possibility, we can note that both the volador and Xocotl Huetzi rituals make a number of interesting parallel references to fertility—or, more specifically, to agriculture (Castro de la Rosa 1985; Kelley 1974:25–32; Leal 1977–1978). Both pole ceremonies have been seen by some scholars (Galinier 1997:193–203; Margain 1939; Stresser Pean 1948) as phallic in their symbolism, and, of course, much could be made of the climactic moment of the volador ceremony when the four flyers leap from the top of the pole. We have no pre-Columbian name for the volador ritual, but Xocotl Huetzi (Nahuatl for “The xocotl fruit falls”) may be a reference to ripening plants, or it could just refer to the collapse of the xocotl pole at the end of the ceremony. Walter Krickeberg (1964:160) thought that the volador represented agricultural crops descending from the heavens, and Konrad Theodor Preuss noted that the related Huichol spring and harvest-pole ceremonies represented maize's descent from and ascent to the heavens (Preuss 1998:229–230, 272–274). Barbro Dahlgren de Jordan (1954:279–80) describes volador ceremonies among the Zapotec and Mixtec as explicitly tied to pleas for rain for crops.

Rituals similar to the Xocotl Huetzi and recorded ethnographically among the Maya all share a strong emphasis on agricultural symbolism in the absence of most references to fire, warriors, or youths (Redfield 1936). Indeed, ethnographic cases of pole ceremonies from the Huichol, Zapotec, and the Maya indicate that the military and death aspects have been replaced since the Conquest with ritual clowns or monkeys (see the discussion in Redfield [1936] and compare Table 2) while retaining explicit agricultural references. Of course, no reason exists that militarism and fertility need be competing interpretations for the pole ceremonies. The annual cycles of warfare and agriculture appear to have been inversely correlated in Mesoamerica, partly because most warriors were also farmers. As Ross Hassig (1988:53–54) notes, Aztec military campaigns could not begin until the harvest had been brought in. David Webster (1999:80, 100–101) cites a variety of hieroglyphic and ethnohistoric accounts indicating that Maya warfare occurred primarily in the dry season, beginning in earnest right after harvest time. The Xocotl Huetzi ceremony, and that of the volador, thus has a twofold aspect, emphasizing the calendar, the sun, and agriculture on one side and elite ancestors and masculine youth on the other.

Indeed, the timing of both ceremonies and their relationship to annual cycles seem highly suggestive. The volador was never linked to a particular Mesoamerican “month.” Early accounts do not say much about its schedule, but I have already mentioned its association with pleas for rain, and one Nicaraguan source specifically assigns it to the end of the cacao harvest (see Table 1). The Xocotl Huetzi ceremony in the sixteenth century was firmly linked to late August among those sources from the central highlands of Mexico, as was another pole-raising ritual in Yucatan (Table 2). Because the Gregorian calendar reform was not implemented in the Spanish colonies until 1582, these dates in late August would actually correspond to early September in our current understanding of the seasonal round. This would typically be too early for a full-fledged maize harvest. But it does correlate reasonably well with the historically and ethnographically important early harvest of the green maize that has just turned milky, and thus edible, usually a month or two before the main harvest.

The changes that occurred after the Conquest as part of the general accommodation of native beliefs to the Catholic ritual schedule altered the original timing of these ceremonies. It appears as if the Xocotl Huetzi ceremony was broken up into its two aspects. The celebrations of the ancestral dead that were part of Hueymiccailhuitl and the veintena prior were recognized by Durán to have moved to November 1 and 2 to merge with All Saint's and All Soul's Days (Durán 1971 [1579]:441–443). Within the last century or so, pole ceremonies reminiscent of the Xocotl Huetzi (though long since forced to give up that name) have been documented from December through March (Table 2), and one Huichol case in October retains its connection to a green-corn ceremony (Fikes 1985:172–186; Preuss 1998:229–230, 272–274). The modern cases of the volador have nearly the same schedule (extending into April), with the better-known voladores of Papantla bucking the pattern and celebrating it several times a year (Table 1). There seems to be a special emphasis on Catholic holidays of spring renewal, such as Easter, perhaps a reinterpretation of the pre-Columbian meaning.

An interesting possibility suggests itself. The volador and Xocotl Huetzi, so frequently intertwined in their timing and meaning, may originally have been paired rituals occurring in the spring and fall. The western Mexican ceramic models are ambiguous as to which ceremony is truly being represented, but their overlapping symbolism suggests that a general reference to critical points in the agricultural cycle—specifically, maize—was meant. We cannot assume that these were the only ceremonies enacted within the circles, but the fact that the ancient ceramicists chose to represent these so frequently speaks to their importance.

GREEN-MAIZE CEREMONIES

To summarize (Table 3), the symbolism and scheduling suggest that the pole ceremonies described from Spanish Contact were related in one way or another to agricultural fertility. Specifically, a few references exist that tie the volador to the spring and pleas for rain, and the Xocotl Huetzi is strongly associated with the fall and an early harvest ritual. The interpretation of the Xocotl Huetzi as a first-fruits ritual may, in fact, originate with Seler (cf. Brown 1988:181n.2, although I could not find the reference she indicates).

Summary of data in Tables 1 and 2

The green-maize harvest in many ways carries more symbolic significance than the full-fledged harvest, as it signifies an end to the long period of careful rationing of the previous year's stores. It was particularly well known among eastern North American maize farmers. Several groups in the east carried out green-corn ceremonies within architecture or specially dedicated plazas (Witthoft 1949:20, 64–65), and the Delaware, Cherokee, Creek, and Natchez even used a central pole as the focal point for the dances (Witthoft 1949:16–17, 48–49, 62, 71; note especially the description of the ceremony among the Delaware). Fire played a common role in these rituals, either through the renewal of fire throughout the community or in the roasting of the first green-maize ears (e.g., Witthoft 1949:32, 53–62). We might speculate that the Mesoamerican element of tossing human beings onto the fire during the Xocotl Huetzi symbolized the latter.

In Mesoamerica, ethnohistoric evidence for an early harvest exists in the numerous references to green corn and its dietary uses by sources as diverse as Sahagún (1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 2:64, Book 6:228, 235, Book 8:38, Book 10:42, 79, Book 11:279, 281, Book 12:75) and Thomas Gage (1958 [1648]:222–223). The Otomi of north-central Mexico were said to have held a special regard for green maize (Sahagún 1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 10:179–180, Book 12:75), although the story is presented as a cautionary tale against harvesting too much of one's crop before full maturity. In the past century, early maize harvests have been reported from September to November for Mesoamerica as a whole (Palerm 1967:29–30; Reina 1967:318–324). Alan Sandstrom (1991:124–125) reports green-maize harvests from September to early October among Nahua speakers in Veracruz. Ceremonies celebrating the green-maize harvest are reportedly held in several areas of the Maya Lowlands and Highlands (Stross 1994:n. 25; see also Collier 1975:72–74).

There seems to have been a particular emphasis on green-corn harvests in western Mexico. They have been reported repeatedly among the Sierra Purépecha of Michoacan (Beals 1946:20–22; West 1948:34–39, 45). Among the Huichol, Tepecano, and Cora, green-corn ceremonies have been held from August to the end of October, depending on local humidity and planting conditions (Fikes 1985:170–186; González Ramos 1972; Lumholtz 1902:Book 2:119, 126–127; Mason 1913:348–349; Weigand 1992b:56–60;). That of the Huichol is particularly relevant: Not only it makes use of a raised pole as its centerpiece; so does its companion ritual in the spring (Preuss 1998:173–175, 229–230, 272–274, 283–284). One of Preuss's descriptions of the October ritual is as follows:

Lumholtz (1902:Book 2:46) describes the ritual in a more summary manner, as he did not witness it himself. Jay Courtney Fikes (1985:172–186) witnessed the same tatei neixa (Dance of Our Mother) as it was performed in 1979 and 1980, but he is sufficiently satisfied with the earlier descriptions that he focuses on interpretation. He notes that the ritual today is a first-fruits ceremony in which the new maize is ritually purified and thanks are given, but the tatei neixa also holds a wider symbolic significance, as it marks the beginning of the dry season and world renewal.

Each of the western Mexican groups cited so far has complementary spring rituals generally associated with requests for rain. The Tepecano have the Feast of Planting Corn in April and repeat it until the rains begin (Lumholtz 1902:Book 2:119; Mason 1913). The Cora have rain and planting festivals throughout the month of May (Lumholtz 1902:Book 1:509), and sources frequently state that the Huichol continue to ask for rain throughout the rainy season (Lumholtz 1902:Book 2:1, 6–14).

The ubiquity of green-maize ceremonies among western Mexican indigenous groups may relate to the presence of a variety of the maize race Harinoso de Ocho, known as the Elotes Occidentales (Wellhausen et al. 1952:70–73, Figure 24). According to E. J. Wellhausen and colleagues (1952:71), flour corns such as Harinoso de Ocho are excellent for roasting, which was a culturally preferred method of eating green maize still practiced today in Jalisco. However, maize harvested early must either be eaten relatively soon or boiled and dried to prevent rotting. An emphasis on an early harvest may signify that the previous year's maize stores will not hold out until the regular harvest (not particularly plausible in a relatively rich and diversified environment such as the Tequila valleys). It could also be a risk-avoidance practice, bringing in part of the harvest before frosts can wipe out the crop (again, not very plausible with the reduced risk of frost in this region).

Note, finally, that the appearance of green maize is not a single event. The first milky ears may appear up to two months before they are considered numerous enough to harvest (Berlin et al. 1974:120–121), and green-maize celebrations have been known in which the festivities were broken into two separate events spaced a month apart (e.g. Witthoft 1949:41–44). The Aztec feast of Huey Tecuilhuitl, in fact, occurs 40 days before the Xocotl Huetzi and marks the very first appearance of green maize in the ceremonial cycle (e.g., Durán 1971[1579]:437; Sahagún 1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 2:96–107). The veintena 20 days after Xocotl Huetzi, however, has been interpreted by N. C. Christopher Couch (1985:70) as a celebration of the full-fledged harvest, and various elements described by Sahagún (1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 2:124), such as the scattering of fully ripened seed, support this.

AGRICULTURAL RITUAL IN WESTERN MEXICO AFTER THE TEUCHITLAN TRADITION

The central pole continued to be an element of sacred centers in western Mexico well after the Teuchitlan tradition disappeared in the Epiclassic period (a.d. 600–900). Antonio Tello makes reference to a pine tree standing in the main plaza of Ocotlan, on the shores of Lake Chapala, when Nuño de Guzman invaded Jalisco in 1530 (Tello 1997 [1650–1653]:77). Around 1600, the two Jesuit priests Arnaya and Santarén each reported that a zapote tree stood in the plaza of the communal houses in Acaxee communities to the north, in Durango (Beals 1932:212). This tree was the centerpiece for two rituals. During planting time, the Acaxee would hang idols and the bones and skulls of the dead from the zapote so that the dead would sow the first seeds (a belief recorded among the Cora and Huichol of the late nineteenth century, as well [Lumholtz 1902:Book 1:509, Book 2:28, 49]; see Furst [1982] for the wider Mesoamerican parallel to this). Later, the Acaxee would give the first maize cobs to their deities by placing them at the foot of the same zapote (Beals 1933:27–29).

In the very early 1900s, J. Alden Mason (1918) recorded an annual cycle of rituals among the Tepecano Indians of northern Jalisco that is worth final consideration. Many of these rituals took place in patios (Mason 1913:348–349, 1918) that turn out to be ruined guachimontones (Weigand 1975:215–219). The translations are replete with references to the sky, the four cardinal directions, and requests for rain, extremely common features to ritual among the Huichol and Cora, as well. Among the various ceremonies transliterated and translated by Mason in Colotlan, several refer to the chanes (Mason 1913:125–129), apparently a locally used term for snake creatures called o'oikam in the actual Tepecano rituals.

The chanes are known as haiku to the Huichol, who believe that they share most of the attributes described earlier, that they have wings (Seler 1993b [1908]:Book 4:194), and that they are associated with the four cardinal directions (Preuss 1998:100). They are known to the Cora as chacanes (Hinton 1972:36).

Similar creatures were recorded among the seventeenth-century beliefs of the Tecuexe, Nahua-speaking peoples of central and eastern Jalisco.

Ohhuican Chahnequeh (dwellers in dangerous places, in Nahuatl) were described by Ruíz de Hernando Alarcón (1984 [1629]:232) as forest spirits, and they are still known in some areas of Mexico today as chaneques, a kind of duende, or goblin. The koo savi of modern Mixtec belief are feathered serpents whose passage through the clouds produces rain (Monaghan 1995:105–110, Figures 6 and 7).

The chanes most closely relate to the Cholan and Tzotzilan Maya term for “snake,” chan, which can also mean the number “four” or “sky.” This is not a mere phonetic correspondence, as the chic-chan (in Chorti, “[deer?] snake”; Karl Taube, personal communication 2002) are rain spirits of the first order. The sky chic-chan are described by Charles Wisdom (1961:444–447) in his early-twentieth-century ethnographic work as horned, frequently traveling in mated pairs, and four in number, each associated with a major body of water and one of the cardinal directions. Rainbows are their bodies, thunder is their voice, and storms are caused by their passage across the sky. Chic-chan from the earth are similar, and they are described as living upstream during the dry season and moving downstream with the coming of the rains and the swelling of the rivers.

As mentioned earlier, the main section of the site of Llano Grande sits atop a mesa bounded by deeply cut seasonal arroyos to the north and south, which join at the head of the mesa. The arroyo below the junction is called the Arroyo el Chan, and our local informants could not provide us with an explanation for the toponym. The correspondence is tantalizing and would help to link the disparate evidence for agricultural ritual to the area around Llano Grande. But research among the rural populations of central Jalisco has tended to focus more on the rich history of tequila and haciendas than on the persistence of still older belief systems.

AGRICULTURAL RITUAL AND POLITICAL POWER

I have drawn on western Mexican imagery, later ethnohistoric and ethnographic data on ritual and religious beliefs, and their parallels elsewhere in Mesoamerica to argue that the guachimontón was intimately connected to important rituals of the agricultural cycle. Specifically, ceremonies linked to the planting and harvesting of maize are depicted in ceramic models of the architecture. The degree to which this religious significance may have translated into political power is an interesting question. The connections between Mesoamerican rulership and the agricultural symbolism discussed here are numerous. Virginia Fields (1989:18) and Brian Stross (1994:15, 21–25) have shown how maize imagery was frequently associated with lowland Mesoamerican rulers and their ritual duties during the Late Formative period. The practice of ritual bloodletting among Classic-period Maya royalty had fertility—especially agricultural fertility—as its goal (Schele and Miller 1986). Joyce (2000) has similarly argued that Formative- and Classic-period Zapotec rulers justified their status through their role as mediators between commoners and the divine in promoting agricultural success.

Depictions of ritual are one thing, but can any of the imagery discussed be considered an iconography of rulership, as Mark Miller Graham (1998) asks of the western Mexican corpus? One example of an architectural scene shows the central pole with a flat, starburst-shaped object atop it, with a painted circle surrounding a cross on the dorsal surface (Von Winning and Hammer 1972:Figure 50) (Figure 12). This may, of course, refer to the quadripartite concepts that we have discussed, though I suggest that another connection exists to be made here. Commonly depicted in western Mexican art are small, solid clay people seated or standing next to an upright pole with a disk on top (e.g., Von Winning and Hammer 1972:Figures 62–64). The captions commonly label the poles as sunshades. But consider the larger, hollow figure illustrated in Figure 13. A male, decorated with jewelry and body and facial tattoos, holds a staff that is clearly a larger and more detailed version of the object interpreted elsewhere as a sunshade. The vertical bar has latitudinal stripes, while the flat “shade” at the top has four equally spaced nubbins around the upper rim of the disk and a single larger nubbin in the center, forming a cross. The clay artists of western Mexico frequently simplified the guachimontón in a similar way to depict the circular complexes in a secondary role—for example, the battle scene depicted in Figure 14 (for another example, see Von Winning and Hammer 1972:Color Plate 5). Here a single structure, a circular patio, and a stubby central pole are enough to indicate the guachimontón form.

Detail of a small ceramic diorama, reportedly from Nayarit. Redrawn by Kathy Beekman from Von Winning and Hammer (1972:Figure 50).

Detail of a hollow figure, Ixtlan del Rio style, Nayarit. Redrawn by Kathy Beekman from Anawalt (1998:Figure 1).

Pottery warrior group, Nayarit style. (Catalogue number 30.3/196; courtesy Division of Anthropology, American Museum of Natural History, New York, NY.)

If the staff in Figure 13 is a stylized representation of a guachimontón with pole, its context suggests that it is an emblem of office, whether religious, political, or both. In this sense, it may be comparable to the Classic Maya “Jester God,” or the “Double Headed Serpent Bar.” These symbols of rulership are not found with every image of Maya kings, but they identify the holder as a person of the greatest political power when they do occur (Freidel and Schele 1988:552; Schele and Miller 1986:72–73, 111). The associated sky imagery common to the Serpent Bar also relates the holder specifically to the celestial regions (Schele and Miller 1986:109, 120–121). On the sarcophagus lid of the ruler Pacal II of Palenque, the Double Headed Serpent Bar is even depicted as wrapped around the central World Tree (Freidel et al. 1993:77–79), again relating rulers and the tree (or pole) that links them to the heavens. Postclassic rulers from the central highlands were likened to cypress trees (Sahagún 1950–1969 [1578–1580]:Book 6:252), a common reference to their central position as a spiritual axis mundi and link to the heavens. Hasso von Winning once made a similar observation about the pole ceremonies depicted in western Mexico (Von Winning and Hammer 1972:25), citing them as conduits between this world and the upper world. The individual in Figure 13, by using an abstracted guachimontón and pole as a symbol of authority, is making a parallel statement: By virtue of his role as a mediator in ritual activity, he holds a special relationship with the celestial regions.

Although various concepts and imagery related Mesoamerican rulers to agricultural fertility, how may this relate to the activities that took place within guachimontones such as that at Llano Grande, where cosmological and agricultural symbolism created a locus for political power? The Franciscan Antonio Arias y Saavedra (McCarthy and Matson 1975:204–215) reported that, as of the mid-seventeenth century, Indians from the Pacific coast visited the highland Cora Sun temple at the ceremonial center of Nayarit to ascertain the timing of the first rains from the Sun God and the preserved corpses of past priests that were kept in its temple. The Sun God received these requests, because it was believed to be the one who sent rain, and the dead priests served as its oracles (McCarthy and Matson 1975:210). Later in the year, farmers brought the first fruits of the harvest to that temple. The modern Mestizo inhabitants of Tuxpan, Jalisco, have done the same thing in recent times, paying the town's Catholic priest a percentage of their crop and offering first fruits to the church (Silva 1956:71). No poles or trees are reported in these two cases, but the parallels to the Acaxee report seem clear. The use of dried and mummified past priests or rulers as oracles is a fascinating extension of Headrick's (1999) argument that preserved mummy bundles served the same purpose elsewhere in Mesoamerica and were important symbols of lineage at Classic-period Teotihuacan.

Similar themes have been recorded in more recent times and within the guachimontón architecture itself. Weigand (1975:216–220) has described how a ruined guachimontón at Cerro de Colotlan, in northern Jalisco, was used by the Tepecano Indians in the early twentieth century. There, priest singers, each representing a separate lineage and seated within a separate structure, communicated with their deities by passing messages through both a fire in the patio and with the help of an eagle, which would transmit messages skyward. The responses, relayed through the shaman, determined where individuals were to plant and who was to hold political office. Weigand adds that, as of the late 1960s and early 1970s, offerings were still left at the circle both before the beginning of the rainy season and later at harvest time. The Cora and Tepecano cases provide clear examples in which beliefs regarding the role of hereditary priests as mediators between farmers and the supernatural might have been transformed into a broader form of authority.

RESUMEN

Las investigaciones actuales sobre la tradición teuchitlan siguen mejorando nuestro conocimiento de la relación entre el occidente de México y el resto de mesoamérica. Se define esta tradición por el uso de arquitectura pública distinta, pero hay pocos estudios que la relacionan a las élites y a la sociedad. Se propone que un análisis más emic del sistema político pueda clarificar la relación entre la arquitectura, el ritual y las élites políticas en el formativo tardío de Jalisco (300 a.C.–200 d.C.) En este estudio, se relacionan las maquetas de cerámica de la arquitectura con los datos arqueológicos de Llano Grande y las descripciones históricas de la celebración Xocotl Huetzi de las épocas posclásicas e histórica. También hay ejemplos etnográficos recientes del mismo rito que nos ayudan a interpretar las maquetas. Al final, se discute una interpretación del ritual y sistema político de la tradición teuchitalan que se enfoca en la agricultura y en el maíz.