Page 102 - Fingerprints of the Gods by Graham Hancock

Graham Hancock – FINGERPRINTS OF THE GODS

Chapter 13

Blood and Time at the End of the World

Chicken Itza, northern Yucatan, Mexico
Behind me, towering almost 100 feet into the air, was a perfect ziggurat,
the Temple of Kukulkan. Its four stairways had 91 steps each. Taken
together with the top platform, which counted as a further step, the total
was 365. This gave the number of complete days in a solar year. In
addition, the geometric design and orientation of the ancient structure
had been calibrated with Swiss-watch precision to achieve an objective as
dramatic as it was esoteric: on the spring and autumn equinoxes, regular
as clockwork, triangular patterns of light and shadow combined to create
the illusion of a giant serpent undulating on the northern staircase. On
each occasion the illusion lasted for 3 hours and 22 minutes exactly.
1
I walked away from the Temple of Kukulkan in an easterly direction.
Ahead of me, starkly refuting the oft-repeated fallacy that the peoples of
Central America had never succeeded in developing the column as an
architectural feature, stood a forest of white stone columns which must at
one time have supported a massive roof. The sun was beating down
harshly through the translucent blue of a cloudless sky and the cool,
deep shadows this area offered were alluring. I passed by and made my
way to the foot of the steep steps that led up to the adjacent Temple of
the Warriors.
At the top of these steps, becoming fully visible only after I had begun
to ascend them, was a giant figure. This was the idol of Chacmool. It half-
lay, half-sat in an oddly stiff and expectant posture, bent knees
protruding upwards, thick calves drawn back to touch its thighs, ankles
tucked in against its buttocks, elbows planted on the ground, hands
folded across its belly encircling an empty plate, and its back set at an
awkward angle as though it were just about to lever itself upright. Had it
done so, I calculated, it would have stood about eight feet tall. Even
reclining, coiled and tightly sprung, it seemed to overflow with a fierce
and pitiless energy. Its square features were thin-lipped and implacable,
as hard and indifferent as the stone from which they were carved, and its
eyes gazed westwards, traditionally the direction of darkness, death and
the colour black.
2

1 Mexico, Lonely Planet Publications, Hawthorne, Australia, 1992, pp. 839.
2 Ronald Wright, Time Among the Maya, Futura Publications, London, 1991, pp. 343.

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