Legends of Mayans

There's a small church that meets here on the seminary campus, and we went there on Sunday morning. No, it's not like our church at home, but it felt good to be there with people to worship and honor our God and Savior. They were kind enough to provide English interpretors for most of the service. The lesson hit home, John 13, Jesus the servant who washed feet.

The medical team from Mississippi/Alabama that is staying out at the Mission House this week was at church, and we got to meet a few of the doctors and nurses. They want Keeci and me to come and hang out with them sometime this week, to get to know us better. OK. They brought their own chef with them, and I don't think he does tortillas and beans. The only problem with hanging out with them is the language barrier, I don't speak Mississippian. Keeci, from her days in Houston, knows it a little.

In the afternoon, we took a 45 minute drive out to a place called Iximche. It was a thriving Mayan community about 500 years ago, until the Spaniards came along. The ruins of Iximche are really fascinating, with several pyramid structures, big courtyards, and remnants of buildings and homes. There's one area that is still used as a place for traditional Mayan worship, with a sacrificial burn pit. The embers were still smoldering when we got there, we're not sure what was sacrificed on Sunday, but it smelled like chicken. Or corn.

The signs that explain things at Iximche are written in Spanish and Mayan. Keeci could make out some of the Spanish, but we found it more fun to make up our own stories about what happened where. Keeci concocted a story about a blood mote around the place, kept full by the drainage of human blood from the sacrificial altars. A small group of American college kids happened to be visiting Iximche while we were there, and I struck up a conversation with 3 of them. In my dead serious expression, I told them about the blood mote. Their eyes got big and their jaws dropped open as I explained how one big pit right in front of us was kept full of human blood as a reservoir for the mote. It's amazing how, if you act like you know what you are talking about, people will believe you. Of course, I fessed up, that I had no idea what the pit was for, probably a foundation for somebody's house.

For the rest of the day, Keeci was making up stories about Mayan blood zombies. I didn't sleep well last night.