The rainforests of Central America are chockablock with overgrown temples, pyramids, stelae and broken pots. Ancient Mayans believed that pottery contained spirits: they smashed their pots in order to release the spirits, which is why it’s rare to find any that consist of less than a hundred pieces.
As my rotund student archaeologist character, Charlie, puts it,
‘I reckon that belief was invented by the pot makers. Stands to reason: persuade guys to smash their pots and they have to buy more from you. There must have been a few millionaire potters.’
Mayans were partial to doing odd things in caves. They thought they were getting close to the underworld and would sometimes leave offerings deep underground. I explored such a cave in Belize , guided by a British ex-soldier (who inspired a similar character in the novel). Accessing the cave required a two hour march, constantly in and out of the water, with a final swim across to the cave’s entrance. We left our shoes inside the cave entrance so that our feet wouldn’t damage the delicate treasures inside. Another hour of marching, swimming, climbing, and crawling deep into the underworld followed. My M&S socks were ruined. Then we found this:
Smashed pots from a ceremony that took place about 1,500 to 2,000 years ago. As if that wasn’t cool enough, we crawled on for another half an hour and squeezed into an opening so tight that I could barely fit.
But it was worth the effort, because we then found this:
The bones were calcified. The victim had a hole in his or her skull. Even more tragic was the sight of a set of baby bones in the same part of the cave. Thousands of years had passed and these bones had remained undisturbed, exactly where they were sacrificed, for that whole period. We photographed the scene, but didn’t touch anything. To this day the location of that cave remains a secret in order that those remains can be protected.
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